The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character-Chapter 299: Soul Bound Staff Hidden Functions [1]

I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand against the cold stone wall. My palm came away slick with condensation, or maybe sweat—I didn't check too closely.

For now, all I could do was play the part.

...Act like I was in control.

—You are either very bold or very reckless idiot who doesn't know he can die while pulling this kind of stunt.

And in next moment, Zaho Yuren voice comes through Lan.

I wanted to argue with him but even I know that this time I was beyond reckless.

"Yeah, you are right this time. I was really reckless there. I almost died."

—This time? Kid, I am always right.

I let out a dry chuckle, the sound muffled beneath the mask. "Always right, huh? You're starting to sound like a nagging old man."

—I am an old man. One who actually survived long enough to earn the title. Unlike you, who seems determined to sprint face-first into an early grave.

His voice rattled in my skull like steel grinding on stone, equal parts disdain and begrudging concern.

"Fair point." I slid down against the wall, letting myself sit for just a moment. My body felt heavy, bones aching in a way that had nothing to do with wounds and everything to do with qi depletion. "Still, if I hadn't overplayed it, Shibazorak would've broken me in half. You saw his last punch."

—Hmph. And if I hadn't helped bleed off that impact, you'd be paste smeared across the floor. Don't flatter yourself.

I tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling's jagged lines of stone. "I know. That's why I'm admitting you're right for once. Don't make me repeat it."

Silence, then a low, smug rumble.

—Heh. At least you're learning humility. Slowly. Like a mule that only moves after ten beatings.

I smirked faintly despite the fatigue dragging me down. "…You really don't pull punches, do you?"

—Why would I? If you're going to carry my legacy, you'd better learn to stop gambling your life on theatrics. Power isn't about flash. It's about survival. And right now, you're circling the drain.

The words stung because they were true. I had played the role too hard, pushed too much qi into Black Shadow, into Enhancement, into the act of being someone untouchable.

And now? Now I was nearly hollow.

"…So what do you suggest?" I asked at last, my voice low. "Because like it or not, I still have to walk into that boss room."

The staff at my side pulsed faintly, Lan humming with the presence of Zaho Yuren's lingering spirit.

—Now you're finally speaking sense. Honestly, you should have asked for my help from the start, knowing you have no talent at all.

I blinked. "…What?"

—Help, obviously.

I tightened my grip on the staff. "What kind of help are we talking about?"

—Tch. You really don't get it, do you? You "passed" my trial because I allowed it. If I hadn't, you'd still be face-down in the dirt. Anyway, I'm not just here to rattle around in your head. [Soul-Bound Staff] isn't some cursed weapon; a spirit lives in it for a reason. My reason is simple: to assist the one who carries it.

My stomach dropped for a second. He could do that?

There had been no mention of this in the original novel. Nothing in the setting notes either. The only oddity I'd ever noticed was how the original wielder, Lan, had been forced to activate the staff.

I narrowed my eyes. "…Then why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

—Because you never asked.

"…That's it?"

—What, you expected me to hold your hand? Pathetic.

I gritted my teeth. "Then why bother telling me now?"

—Because it's painful to watch you just stand there and take punches like an amateur. At least show some self-respect.

That stung more than it should have. I exhaled slowly. "…Fine. What can you do?"

—Hmm. That depends on how much punishment you can endure.

The air shifted slightly as the staff's body lengthened and twisted, its edge glinting faintly in the dim light. Even in its base form, Lan was a relic powerful enough to be ranked near-mythical. I had probably been underestimating it all this time.

—In your current state, you're running on scraps. I can't pull off anything flashy through you, not yet.

Lan tilted itself toward the heavy stone door looming ahead. The faint glow of its runes flickered, as if already unsettled by the staff's presence.

—But at the very least, I can push you past your limits. Strong enough to stand on your own and crush the thing waiting behind that door.

A shiver ran down my spine.

"…Strong enough to solo it, huh?"

—If you trust me.

I stared at the staff, my fingers tightening on the worn grip. Trust him? That was a tall order.

"Bold claim," I muttered. "But how do I know you won't just… hijack me the moment I let you in?"

—If I wanted to control you, brat, I'd already be walking around in your skin. You think I'm that patient?

That mental image was not comforting. My grip tensed. "…That's not the most reassuring answer."

—You asked. I answered. Don't whine when you hear the truth.

His voice carried that same abrasive honesty as always—grating, but impossible to ignore.

I dragged a hand down my face, the mask scraping lightly against my palm. "Let's say I do trust you. What does that even look like? You flood me with power and I keel over after five seconds?"

—Not if you stop fighting me.

I blinked. "…What?"

—Every time you draw on Lan, you're wrestling with me. Like a child trying to snatch food out of his father's hands. Wasteful. Stupid. If you'd stop struggling, I could lend you my strength directly instead of you trying to brute-force it.

That… made uncomfortable sense.

"So all this time," I said slowly, "I've basically been making things harder for myself?"

—Hah! Finally catching on. Took you long enough.

I bit back the urge to argue, because honestly, he wasn't wrong. "Then why didn't you just… tell me sooner?" 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

—Tch. Do I look like your babysitter? Trials exist for a reason. You only grow when you're forced to bleed for it.

The staff pulsed again, as if laughing at me.

I leaned my head back against the stone wall, shutting my eyes. "…You're infuriating, you know that?"

—And yet here you are, still alive, thanks to me.

"Cocky old bastard."

—Reckless little brat.

The silence that followed wasn't exactly comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Somewhere between grudging respect and the bickering of two men who'd been forced into the same boat.

Finally, I exhaled. "Alright. Let's say I trust you. What happens next? How do we… link up, or whatever you're hinting at?"

—Simple. Stop clinging to control like it's your lifeline. For once, let me steer.

My eyes opened, narrowing at the staff. "You're asking me to drop my defenses in front of you. To give up control in the middle of a boss fight."

—If you don't, you won't survive the fight at all.

The bluntness in his tone made my stomach sink. No mocking, no smugness. Just certainty.

"…You're serious."

—Deadly.

My pulse quickened. Memories of Shibazorak's fists slamming into me flashed through my mind, the sound of bones threatening to snap, of my qi burning down to cinders. He was right—I couldn't bluff my way through the next battle.

I let my head fall forward, eyes on the glowing runes of the heavy door. "…If you make fool of me, I'll find a way to erase you. Spirit or not."

—Heh. That's the spirit. But don't worry, boy. You're too stubborn to die easily. That's why I bothered sticking around.

I couldn't help it—I laughed, soft and bitter. "…That almost sounded like a compliment."

—Don't get used to it.

The staff pulsed once more, heat radiating faintly from its core. The runes on the dungeon door flickered nervously, like prey sensing the presence of a predator.

—Now then. Ready to stop pretending you're in control?

I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in my throat. My hand tightened on the staff's grip, my knuckles white beneath the gloves.

"…Guess there's no other choice."

—There never was.

The weight of his voice settled inside me, heavy as iron.

For the first time, I felt like I was standing on the edge of something vast. Not power. Not glory. A precipice where one misstep could swallow me whole.

"…Alright, old man," I muttered, my voice steadying as I rose to my feet. "Show me what survival looks like."

—Finally.

The dungeon trembled faintly, as though it, too, was waiting for the answer.

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Author Note:

Thank you for reading the chapter. I hope you continue to do read more in future.

It's my first novel so if there's any kind of mistakes you find in the novel related to grammar please tell me and I'll edit it as soon as possible.