I Was Born With A Bloodline That Ended The World-Chapter 92: Only Hope

A few days passed in the academy, each one feeling a little more electric as the rumor of the upcoming tournament solidified into reality.

Posters were hung in hallways, names were mentioned in conversations, and bets were already being quietly made.

Some students were buzzing with excitement, practically bouncing off the walls.

Others were less enthusiastic, feeling the weight of expectations and the growing tension between classes.

But most of them signed up anyway. The allure of rewards, rumored to be more than just credits or trinkets, was too strong to resist.

Rhian noticed the shift in atmosphere everywhere he went.

In the cafeteria, students talked about strategies over plates of steaming food.

In the courtyards, impromptu sparring matches broke out, everyone trying to sharpen their skills before the real challenge began.

Even the instructors seemed to be caught up in it, some offering extra drills and practice sessions, others just watching with faint smirks as the younger carriers pushed themselves harder than ever.

Rhian, for his part, didn’t mind the change.

He liked the feeling of purpose it gave the air, the sense that everyone had something to prove, and that there was something worth fighting for, even if they didn’t all agree on what it was.

For now, he kept his focus on the upcoming fights, letting the restless energy fuel his thoughts.

The headmistress sat at her desk, her fingers drumming lightly on the edge of a thick folder. The office was quiet, save for the sound of papers rustling and the faint ticking of a small clock on the wall.

Then, a voice broke the stillness, calm and steady, though it carried a hint of amusement.

"Not so easy running an academy, is it?"

She didn’t look up, simply kept reading as she answered. "Living people are too demanding."

A low chuckle rolled through the room, and the figure behind her took a step closer. "I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not. Don’t you see the resemblance?" he said, his voice lowering, almost conspiratorial. "How they treat each other, like those with power or clean blood are worth more. Like those born different are nothing but tools, or burdens to be used and discarded."

The headmistress sighed softly, still not meeting his eyes. "I see it. Every day."

"They treat the evolved like they’re lesser," the voice continued, leaning against the window frame. "Like they’re a stain on their perfect world, a reminder of something they’d rather not face."

She nodded once, her expression tight. "It’s a disease that’s been growing in the city for years. And no matter how many times I change the name, or rewrite the rules, it’s still there, just under the surface."

The figure gave a low hum of agreement. "You’re trying to fix a sickness that’s already in the bones, Hel. That’s not something that can be treated with new words or policies."

She turned slightly, her eyes meeting his for the first time. "I know. But I have to try."

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Then keep trying. But remember, sometimes you have to break what’s rotting before you can build something better."

The headmistress gave a low, tired sigh, leaning back in her chair as the voice filled the room.

"I assume this tournament you’re holding is for him?" the voice asked, his tone casual but pointed.

"Yes," she admitted. "I realized something... I’ve been holding him back. After you told me that all-seeing bastard tried to kill him in a portal... I panicked. I didn’t want to risk losing him."

A soft chuckle echoed from the shadows. "The cold ruler of the dead, panicking..." he said, almost teasing. But then he grew serious again, his tone softening. "Understandable. After all, he is our last hope. So much riding on his shoulders, and not enough time."

She pressed her lips together, her eyes briefly closing. "How much closer are you to finding the World Tree’s true location? We need him to get there first, before the others."

The figure in the shadows was silent for a moment, as if weighing his answer. "Closer," he said at last. "But not close enough. The branches are illusions, scattered through the realms. We’re getting closer to the root, closer to where the truth lies. But even then... there are forces that want him dead before he ever gets that far."

The headmistress nodded once, her jaw tightening. "Then we’ll keep buying him time. Whatever it takes."

"Your part," the voice said, calm and deliberate, "is to make sure he gets the opportunities he needs to grow stronger. Drop your portal restrictions."

The headmistress didn’t reply at first. She drew in a slow breath, her fingers tapping lightly on the stack of papers before her. "I’ll make sure he’s safe," she said finally. "But for now... I’ll make sure he gets a challenge."

"You need not worry about his protection," the voice said, low and echoing slightly in the still air. "That’s my duty... I may be a much lesser version of myself, but I am still the same."

The headmistress turned to speak, but the space where he had been was empty. Only the soft creak of old wood in the quiet office answered her.

She sighed, the breath long and tired.

Her hand drifted to the green plant on the window sill, fingers brushing against the leaves. At her touch, the plant withered, its leaves curling and browning in an instant.

She closed her eyes for a moment, fingers tightening on the stem.

"Just a little longer," she whispered.

She pulled her hand back, and the plant slowly straightened, the green returning to its veins. She watched it return to life, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Then she turned back to her desk, shoulders squaring, eyes cold once more.

There was no room for hesitation now.

She knew that if he failed, it wouldn’t be just him who suffered the consequences.

Every realm connected to their world, every fragment of the nine realms that had once been protected by ancient bonds, would be left vulnerable to destruction and corruption.

The balance would shatter, and what little order remained in the chaos would crumble completely.

She understood that it wasn’t just about keeping him safe or making sure he was strong enough.

It was about making sure he was ready for what was coming, whatever that meant.