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Chapter 35: The Clashing Heroines
A shocking piece of news spread across Zerion Academy.
Nia Cynthia, heir to the Cynthia Duchy and the next Yellow Tower Master, had gone missing in the Demon Dungeon during a magic experiment.
The one who discovered this was Sharin Sazaris, Nia's research assistant.
As the daughter of the Blue Tower Master, Sharin had a rapport with Nia and frequently exchanged ideas with him.
During one of these exchanges, Sharin noticed an anomaly in Nia's magic and went to the Demon Dungeon to meet him.
However, she could not find Nia there.
Instead, she found only Nia's staff and the necklace granted exclusively to the heir of the Cynthia family.
For a mage to lose their staff in the Demon Dungeon was tantamount to death.
The news of his "disappearance" was, for all intents and purposes, an announcement of his death.
Led by Nia's younger sister, Nikita, the student council organized an investigation into the Demon Dungeon.
They uncovered traces of a new type of Apostle emerging from its depths.
Despite their efforts, they could not locate Nia's body.
Several follow-up searches ensued, but Nia's presence remained elusive.
Eventually, it was concluded that Nia had perished.
The gruesome events in the Demon Dungeon threw the world into chaos.
This was the second fatal incident involving the Demon Dungeon within a year, and it reignited worldwide concern over its dangers.
Amid this turmoil, doubts about Nia's death began to surface, prompting some to launch their own investigations.
While the world reeled from the news, I slowly folded the morning newspaper I was reading.
‘It was a good call to use the back entrance.’
I had sent Sharin through the main entrance but took an alternate path through a hidden entrance to the Demon Dungeon that few knew about.
The Demon Dungeon creates and erases entrances daily.
Thanks to my knowledge of this phenomenon, my presence remained undetected.
‘Sharin will likely remain above suspicion.’
As Nia, the next Yellow Tower Master, had occasionally interacted with Sharin, the daughter of the Blue Tower Master, her testimony lent credibility to the narrative.
A week after news of Nia's disappearance spread, Nia successfully joined forces with the First Prince, his identity intact and undetected.
‘My involvement will surely reach the First Prince.’
After all, it was largely thanks to me that Nia survived.
He would undoubtedly mention my contribution to the First Prince.
Naturally, the Prince would find my existence intriguing.
‘This might speed up certain events, but…’
It was a choice I had made.
To help Nia, Sharin had accompanied me on this mission, and she remained silent about the details afterward.
Knowing her personality, she wouldn’t divulge this matter lightly.
She understood the complications that could arise from even a careless word.
I decided to trust her.
‘In any case, the world now believes Nia is dead.’
More precisely, Nikita needed to believe that Nia was dead.
For her to take the path of becoming the Dragon of Calamity, the boss of Act 4, this narrative was essential.
Like clockwork, the story was heading toward its intended trajectory.
Yet, my chest felt heavy.
For the sake of the story, Nikita had to experience this profound loss and hit rock bottom.
That truth weighed on me.
‘I hold Nikita in high regard, after all.’
Nikita had always been a character I admired.
Her determination and resilience resonated deeply with me no matter the adversity.
Yet, despite that, I couldn't help but feel vulnerable when it came to Nikita.
‘Could it be…’
Was this the lingering influence of this body’s original owner, Vikamon?
Vikamon had harbored feelings for Nikita, and many of his heinous deeds against Lucas were driven by his affection for her.
I had displaced Vikamon's soul to take over this body.
Perhaps the emotions he felt lingered within it, influencing me.
A sigh escaped my lips.
The real Vikamon no longer existed in this world.
My attempts to gather information about him had only yielded what I already knew.
‘Vikamon, were you so reluctant to see Nikita in pain?’
I asked the question to the Vikamon who might be listening from somewhere unknown, raising my head.
Even so, this was a trial that Nikita had to endure.
Without her transformation into the Dragon of Calamity, the story could not progress to Act 4.
I folded the newspaper and placed it back in its holder, situated by the entrance for students to read as they arrived.
Walking through the morning corridors, the humid rain pattered lightly against the windows.
It seemed to foreshadow the coming rainy season.
This marked the end of the first semester of second year, signaling the approaching conclusion of Act 3.
It was also the time for the main storyline of the Flame Butterfly Arc to unfold in earnest.
My footsteps echoed softly as I walked the corridor.
Snippets of students' conversations about Nia’s death reached my ears.
For the students, Nia’s death was a significant topic of discussion.
I passed the chattering students and arrived at a familiar door.
Student Council Room.
Knocking twice, I slowly opened the door.
Creaaak.
A familiar figure came into view through the open door—a girl staring blankly out the rain-soaked window.
Seeing her, I quietly stepped inside.
"Senior Nikita."
When I called her name, her vacant eyes finally turned toward me.
A faint glimmer of life returned to them.
Tear stains still marked her cheeks, remnants of nights spent crying.
Even after a week, they had yet to fade.
The moment Nia’s disappearance was reported, Nikita had led the student council into the Demon Dungeon.
She scoured the area with relentless determination but could confirm only one fact:
Nia Cynthia was dead.
For her, it was not just the loss of a brother but of someone deeply beloved.
Her world collapsed.
Even Nikita, strong in spirit as she was, could not withstand such a blow.
Her gaunt face reflected the toll of just one week.
And yet, she managed a faint, fragile smile.
“Junior, there isn’t much student council work these days. You don’t have to come so early in the morning.”
“I’m not here for work. I came to check on you, Senior Nikita.”
Hearing my response, Nikita did not argue as she normally might.
Instead, she simply fell silent.
Despite having little student council work to do, Nikita continued coming to this room daily.
Perhaps, lost in grief over her brother, she had instinctively gravitated to this place as her refuge.
“I see,”
She replied softly.
Her reaction was far more subdued than usual.
Boom—
The sound of thunder resounded in the air.
It felt as if the sky was echoing Nikita’s emotions.
Without a word, Nikita sat down in a chair and started moving her pen.
Watching her silently, I also sat down and followed suit.
Scratch, scratch—
The only sound between us was the pen strokes on paper.
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This was the first time since I started spending time with Nikita that we hadn’t exchanged a single word.
Yet, I hesitated to open my mouth.
I knew the whole truth.
Nikita’s brother, Nia Cynthia, was alive.
I had saved him with my own hands and even set him on a path forward.
By now, Nia was surely working hard with the first prince to uncover the truth.
Was it right, then, to hide this fact from his family, Nikita?
Was it right to keep it a secret while she was mourning so deeply?
I pressed my lips tightly together.
The world moves forward according to its predetermined history.
I saved Nia Cynthia.
Because of this, some parts of the future have surely changed.
But not the predestined story.
The changes brought by Nia Cynthia’s death will manifest only after the predetermined events conclude.
For now, only the death of Nia Cynthia remains in the narrative.
‘At least for now, the world is progressing according to the timeline.’
This was why I decided to save Nia Cynthia.
I was determined to save everyone I could, steering the story in a direction that didn’t disrupt the established order.
This was the realization of that resolve and my first step forward.
My eyes landed on Nikita.
‘To truly save Nikita…’
Nikita Cynthia must become the Dragon of Calamity.
Only then can I remove her from the predetermined story, allowing her to live the life she truly desires.
For this reason, I had to hide Nia Cynthia’s survival from her.
“Nikita.”
So—
“I promise, if anything happens to you, I’ll be the first to rush to your side.”
This was all I could say for now.
Nikita’s gaze met mine.
Her tear-streaked eyes curved slightly into a faint smile—a smile that was likely her best effort.
“Well, that’s a comforting thought.”
It became a smile deeply imprinted in my memory.
* * *
Even after Nia Cynthia’s supposed death was announced, time moved forward.
Apparently, Nia had a more significant influence during his two weeks at the academy than expected.
Some of the students cried, mourning his absence.
These were the students who had secretly admired him, having fallen in love at first sight.
Of course, there were others who remained indifferent.
They had heard his name once or twice but had no particular connection to him.
Not everyone feels sadness over the death of a stranger.
And so, time passed.
Before I knew it, summer had arrived.
The cicadas clinging to the trees cried out incessantly.
Mornings were spent training with Aisha.
After morning classes, lunchtime was consumed by student council work.
After afternoon classes, evenings were spent on magic engraving training with Sharin.
Caught up in such a packed schedule, time flew by.
At one point, I even crossed paths with the third princess, Iris Hysirion, but she didn’t say anything particular about Nia.
She might have guessed that Nia was still alive given her sharp insight.
Alternatively, if she believed Nia was dead, she might have simply found it unfortunate and saw no reason to discuss it with me.
From my perspective, it was a relief not to get entangled with Iris yet.
The time to interact with her would come much later, in the second half of Act 3.
Now, the story had reached the end of Act 3, Chapter 4—the climax of the heroines’ individual episodes.
And then, I encountered an entirely unexpected problem.
“What nonsense are you spouting?!”
An enraged voice pierced the air.
I had just finished my morning lecture and was heading to lunch when I saw a group of people.
Among them was a girl with honey-blonde hair that reminded me of the sun.
Her face was contorted in an expression more intense than I’d ever seen.
Isabel Luna.
She was the main heroine of the Firefly Arc.
My brows furrowed in curiosity.
It was unusual, to say the least. Isabel had never raised her voice at someone like this, even when she was directly criticized.
“B-Belle, calm down. Is it really worth getting so angry? We were just curious, that’s all.”
The girls who had asked the question were visibly flustered.
They hadn’t expected Isabel to react so vehemently.
“Well, that’s a bomb waiting to go off,”
Muttered Seron, who was standing beside me, her lips curling in disdain.
I shot her a questioning glance, asking if she knew what was going on.
Seron shrugged casually as if it were no big deal.
“They’re the ones who’ve been trying to match Isabel with someone from their class. They love stirring things up like that.”
So they were the origin of the rumors.
“Lately, Isabel’s been focused solely on her training, hardly talking to anyone. I guess those girls directly asked her about it.”
Still, my curiosity didn’t abate.
‘Normally, Isabel would have sighed and corrected them.’
I knew her well enough to believe that.
No matter the situation, she wouldn’t have raised her voice like this.
“I kind of get it now,” Seron said, seemingly having figured something out.
Being another girl, she likely had insights I didn’t.
“What is it?”
“After Lucas died, Isabel was in a deep slump, right? Then you—you damn sweet potato—provoked her, intentionally or not, and helped her regain her strength.”
That had been my plan all along.
Anger, after all, can be fuel for life.
“But since when, exactly? Was it after the Demon Dungeon incident? Isabel has grown much more… intense.”
After that incident, Isabel hadn’t once met my eyes.
But it wasn’t just me.
Isabel had distanced herself from everyone around her.
Instead, she poured herself into training.
“If she’s been single-mindedly training like that and then someone pesters her about love or relationships, it’s bound to piss her off.”
As Seron spoke, Isabel turned and stormed off.
The other girls looked at each other in confusion, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Even the boys were tilting their heads in puzzlement.
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck.
Anger can indeed fuel a person’s resolve and drive them forward.
But I also know the other side of anger.
When it burns too fiercely, consuming everything in its path, it eventually leaves nothing behind but ashes.
‘If Isabel started changing after the Demon Dungeon incident…’
Something must have affected her deeply, shaking her to the core.
“I’ll go ahead.”
I left Seron behind and walked off.
She called after me, asking about lunch, but I brushed her off, saying I’d eat later.
I already knew where Isabel would be.
There was a place she always went to when she was feeling down.
Exiting the martial arts building, I walked for a while until I reached a park.
The stone walls of Zerion Academy surrounded it.
Looking closely at the wall, I found the stone steps that workers had left behind while constructing the wall.
I lightly stepped onto the stairs and climbed up.
At the top of the wall, I spotted Isabel sitting at the far end, staring blankly at the sky.
“Isabel.”
When I called her name, Isabel turned around belatedly to look at me.
She gazed at me for a moment before letting out a long sigh.
“How did you know I’d be here?”
Her response wasn’t the same as usual.
I realized it then.
The flames of anger that had reignited her life—
They were now burning out.
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Table of Contents
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