The Academy's Doomed Side Character-Chapter 195: Zhao Yuren [2]

The air around us shifted.

Suddenly, the ground cracked like it was caving in on itself. Flames rose. Screams echoed from invisible mouths. The sky darkened into storm-black as red lightning forked across the sky.

Zhao Yuren slammed the base of the staff on the ground, and the world moved.

"Survive the dungeon I died in," he said. "See what I saw. Fight what I fought."

"Last ten minutes... and I’ll know you’re worth it."

I gritted my teeth. The pressure was already immense.

But I nodded.

Because this was it. My one shot. And I’d rather burn with it than crawl away empty-handed.

"Let’s begin."

---

The sky screamed.

It wasn’t thunder. Thunder didn’t weep like that. It was something deeper—ripping through the atmosphere like a dying god’s wail.

The moment Zhao Yuren slammed the staff down, I was dragged—my body pulled by force into a new world.

No, not a world.

A memory.

His last memory.

Everything hit me at once.

Smoke.

Blood.

The iron tang of bodies ripped open.

The heat of flame brushing my skin.

Thud—!

I landed hard, tumbling across cracked tiles.

Around me, corpses lay in heaps. Not all human. Not all whole. Burned faces, torn limbs, a child’s broken wooden sword clutched in a hand missing its owner.

I gasped, the air thick with ash and mana so wild it buzzed beneath my skin.

The city was unrecognizable—buildings collapsed into rubble, streets split open with crimson light pouring out from the chasms.

And from deep in those rifts... I heard something breathing.

Swoosh!

A shadow moved.

Then another.

Swoosh!

I turned.

Eyes glowed in the smoke—twelve of them. No, more. Pale and rimmed with gold, like coins dipped in blood.

The creature stepped forward, dragging a body in its mouth.

Ten feet tall. Hunched like a beast. Bones sticking out of its spine like spears. Its skin looked stretched—patched together from different animals. Its claws twitched, and the air around it screeched.

It looked at me.

And charged.

I barely had time to dodge. It moved like thunder—each step splitting the ground.

My shoulder clipped its forearm, and even that sent me sprawling back, bones rattling.

"Cough...cough!"

I rolled, coughing, and summoned mana into my palms. I didn’t have Zhao’s power. I didn’t even have proper weapons.

But I had tricks.

And desperation.

I reached into my pocket—drew a talisman, slapped it onto my forearm, and activated it.

A shield shimmered up just in time for the next blow. The monster’s claw came down like a guillotine and cracked the shield instantly.

I flew into a wall.

Vision blurred.

I coughed blood.

"Shit..."

I stood up again, legs trembling. No retreat. No escape.

And then—

The world bent.

Just slightly. Like glass pressed too hard.

Suddenly, I wasn’t alone.

The battlefield blurred—and a vision bled in like spilled ink.

Zhao Yuren.

A younger version.

He stood in the same place I did, but his eyes were burning. His mouth was screaming a name I couldn’t hear. His right arm—missing. His body—half-burnt. He was dragging someone behind him. A woman? A girl?

No.

A child.

A hallucination—but it felt real.

Then I heard it—

Her voice.

> "Please... don’t die..."

A child’s cry. A whisper, buried beneath fire and screams.

Zhao Yuren didn’t answer. He just turned—roared—and hurled his spear through a monster’s eye, even as another tore into his side.

I blinked.

And the world returned.

The monster loomed before me, inches away.

I dropped to my knees, sliding under it, and drove a dagger laced with poison into its leg. I knew it wouldn’t kill it—but it made the limb lock, just for a second.

I used that second to scramble up its back.

Climbed like a rat.

It bucked. Screamed.

I jammed another talisman into the base of its skull and activated a burst.

BOOM.

It staggered.

But not enough.

It grabbed me mid-air and slammed me into the ground.

Crack.

I felt a rib give out. Maybe two.

"Ahhh!"

I screamed—but not loud enough to be heard over the monster’s.

My vision swam.

And then—I saw it again.

Another memory bleeding in.

Zhao Yuren standing at the edge of the rift.

Half-dead.

The child in his arms—dead.

His hands trembled.

He looked up at the heavens. He screamed a question. A howl of rage and sorrow.

> "Why did no one come?"

He was alone.

Not a hero. Not a legend. Just a man. Tired. Bleeding. And forgotten.

I felt it—the emptiness. The fury. The betrayal.

My heart ached.

I screamed—and used the pain to fuel one last spell.

With my blood, I activated the last talisman etched into my skin. It flared to life.

A chain of light burst from the air—wrapping around the monster’s neck. It fought. It howled.

I used the last of my strength to drag it down—slamming it into the same chasm Zhao had once died in.

The monster roared—flailing—until its body hit the light below.

Then silence.

I dropped to my knees.

My vision dimmed.

And the sky faded.

---

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the throne realm.

Zhao Yuren stood before me. The staff planted into the ground.

He said nothing for a while.

Then, finally—

> "You saw it, didn’t you?"

I nodded weakly.

> "You felt what I did."

"...Yes."

He looked down at me.

And for the first time—

He smiled.

Not cruel. Not mocking.

But sad.

And proud.

> "Then take it. The staff is yours now."

> "Carry my fire, brat. Burn the world... or save it."

...And just like that I was kicked out of the conscience world of Zhao Yuren.

----

"Hufff...!"

Back in the forest behind the academy, I opened my eyes and gasped for breath.

My whole body was drenched in sweat. My chest rose and fell like I’d just finished a marathon. It wasn’t just fatigue—it was the weight of that memory. Zhao Yuren’s last moments. His pain. His rage. His final stand.

It felt so real that I could still smell the blood and smoke.

I wiped my forehead and sat up slowly, glancing at the ground in front of me.

The old, rusty bracelet was gone.

In its place was a long metal rod, simple in design but pulsing with a quiet pressure, like it was watching me. Waiting.

I stood up, wobbly on my feet, and reached for it.

The moment I touched it, I realized—

It was heavy.

Not just physically, but spiritually. Like it carried the weight of someone’s life, someone’s entire legacy.

I gritted my teeth and tried to lift it.

Not even an inch.

Seriously?

I crouched, dug my heels into the ground, and tried again with both hands.

Still nothing.

The damn thing might as well have been rooted to the earth.

I exhaled, frustrated. But there was no point in brute-forcing it. That wasn’t how Zhao fought, either. He was clever. Relentless, yes—but never mindless.

If I couldn’t lift it with strength...

Then there was only one way left.

I placed my palm gently on the rod, closed my eyes, and whispered, freёnovelkiss.com

"Become lighter."

Mana stirred.

A faint glow traced down the shaft of the staff like it was listening, testing me. The pressure eased—just a little. I felt a flicker of warmth, like an old warrior acknowledging my intent.

I opened my eyes.

And this time, when I lifted it...

It rose.

Still heavy—but manageable.

Like it had accepted me.

Like it belonged to me now.

I held it up and smiled.

"...Let’s see what you can do."

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