The Strongest Student of the Weakest Academy-Chapter 220: Silverleaf Academy (LXVIII)

"Gulp...!"

Francis’s breath caught in his throat.

He slowly turned toward the silver-haired youth who now stood with his back half-turned, violet swords still orbiting him like an executioner’s crown.

The crackling sparks of divine light around the Emperor flickered and dimmed.

Because he saw them.

Those glowing red eyes.

Red like ancient blood.

Red like death that never left.

His pupils shrank, and the world spun.

And suddenly, a memory came flooding back.

A dim hallway, a slit of moonlight, and the cold wave of the wind. And then, it came silence, complete utter silence. The silence that came only after death.

He remembered the pain.

That cold, suffocating fear that had wrapped around his throat when someone, something, had sliced through the layers of his defenses like they were made of paper.

He barely survived that night, but the attacker had left a deep trauma on his soul, along with a deep scar on his thigh.

He had never seen the attacker’s face back then, just a blur of motion.

A shadow wrapped in red, and a pair of glowing red eyes that stared straight through him, as if he were already dead.

And now...

"You..."

The Emperor staggered back, his knees buckling.

He already knew who that person was.

Aestrea finally turned to face him completely.

His hair drifted in the breeze of shattered spells, his coat fluttering like torn wings.

His glowing eyes, cold, almost hollow, and ruthless, locked onto Francis like a predator watching prey it had already marked long ago.

"You’re... the one... that night..."

The words barely escaped the Emperor’s lips.

His hand trembled, and he tried to raise his staff again...

Clank!

But it clattered from his grip and hit the golden crystal floor with a dull clink.

He didn’t even notice; all he saw was that smile.

That terrifying, wicked smile Aestrea was now wearing.

"You remember now," Aestrea said softly.

"Good."

Violet light pulsed outward.

And for the first time in his entire reign, Emperor Francis of the Empire felt what it truly meant to be hunted.

His legs gave out as he collapsed to one knee, hand scraping the floor for something, anything, to hold onto.

Aestrea’s voice was calm.

"I told you back then, didn’t I?"

The air around them warped from the sheer pressure.

"I’d come back again and... I’d kill you."

He stepped forward, every footfall like the tolling of a death bell.

Clack...

Francis tried to summon his mana.

Nothing responded.

Clack...

The throne behind him cracked.

The holy domain above was shattered.

And those eyes, those damn eyes, never looked away.

"You... monster—"

SHHHHHK.

One of the violet swords shot forward, stopping a hair’s breadth from his throat.

Aestrea’s lips parted again, and his voice was barely a whisper.

"...I’m worse than that."

Slowly, he raised his hand towards Emperor Francis.

Fwoom!

The floating violet swords responded instantly, each one of them snapping into perfect position, all angled downward, all aimed at one man.

The violet light reflected in his wide, terrified eyes. His lips moved, but no words came at first, just ragged, shallow breathing and the ugly sound of fear clawing its way up his throat.

"N-No... no, please..."

His voice cracked.

Thud!

He fell to both knees, hands outstretched, palms flat on the cold floor as he bowed his head low, trembling like a broken servant.

"Please, don’t... don’t kill me...!"

His voice shattered as fast as his pride.

"I-I’ll give you anything, anything!"

Aestrea didn’t speak.

Instead, he made the swords shift slightly closer.

Francis’s breathing became panicked gasps.

"I’ll give you the Empire!" he shouted suddenly, voice shaking, his hands now gripping Aestrea’s boots like a madman begging a god.

"The treasury! The armies! Everything I have, it’s yours!"

Still no response.

"ISABELLA!" he screamed. "You can have her, my wife! The Empress! She’s still beautiful, I swear! And I didn’t even touch her, so she’s pure! Take her, take her body, her title!"

Aestrea’s eyes didn’t change at all.

Francis collapsed further, arms limp at his sides.

Tears poured down his face.

"ELLA!" he choked, eyes going bloodshot as he forced the name from his lungs. "You-you know her... my daughter... take her too! She’s yours! You can have her, do what you want with her, I’ll order it! I’ll bind her to you, anything, just... just don’t..."

His voice failed him.

"...don’t kill me..."

Aestrea tilted his head slightly.

The light from his swords cast long, sharp shadows across the floor.

And still, the Emperor sobbed, tears mixed with saliva and blood smeared across his lips as he whispered over and over again....

"Please..."

"...please..."

"I don’t want to die..."

"...I don’t want to die..."

The man who ruled the Empire.

The man who was worshipped like a god.

The man who had once looked down on all life from a golden throne was now a broken insect at the feet of the one he feared most.

Aestrea still didn’t speak.

His crimson eyes gleamed like burning embers in a blizzard as his hand slowly lowered.

The violet swords above him... all shot towards the Emperor.

SHWOOOOOM—!!!

Hundreds of them tore through the air in perfect unison, their screeching edges warping the space around them, turning the golden ruins of the Seraphic Throne into a death zone of slicing death and flashing purple light.

But just as they were about to slice Francis...

CLAAAAANG—!!!

A blur of black steel crashed down in front of the Emperor.

The Sword Duke.

Armor cracked, chest rising with ragged breaths, yet still strong.

He had crossed the distance in an instant, sword raised, absorbing the full brunt of the attack with a spiral of defensive swings and his black aura.

The violet swords ricocheted off, exploded into sparks, or embedded into the broken marble, shaking the entire palace.

Behind him, the Emperor collapsed backward, panting wildly before realizing that he was actually alive.

He was still alive.

A manic smile exploded across his blood-smeared face.

"Y-YES! KILL HIM!" he roared, pointing toward Aestrea with a trembling hand. "SWORD DUKE, KILL HIM NOW! I COMMAND Y—"

But before he could even finish the sentence...

Aestrea slowly tilted his head.

That smile returned.

That same devilish, slow, cruel smile that Francis had seen in his nightmares long ago.

『 Bleed 』

The Emperor’s heart dropped instantly.

FWWWWSSHHH!!!

"GHHHHHHUUUUAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

Every wound on his body, new, old, even those healed with holy spells, ripped open at once.

A geyser of blood exploded from his chest, his arms, his thighs, his ribs. Arteries burst, skin split, and a tidal wave of crimson sprayed into the air like a grotesque fountain.

The Emperor collapsed, gurgling, clawing at his own neck, his eyes wide.

And then...

POP!

Lifeless.

His head hit the cold floor with a dull, wet thud, rolling slightly.

The light in his eyes was gone.

The golden aura around him vanished like smoke.

The Sword Duke’s eyes widened in horror, his fingers trembling around the hilt of his massive blade.

His gaze slowly rose to meet Aestrea’s, who now stood there with Lilith clinging gently to his arm.

She’d arrived quietly, back to her normal form.

Her black dress was torn, her legs scratched and bloodied, her ribs exposed in places, but already healing, threads of black energy weaving over the wounds.

"He was pathetic," Lilith whispered, smirking as she leaned her head against Aestrea’s shoulder.

The Sword Duke watched her, and then looked back at Aestrea, then at the corpse behind him.

Everything he’d lived for was now...

...Gone.

Aestrea stepped forward, his violet swords circling in wide arcs behind him like the rings of a death god.

His voice was cold as ice, as he stared at the Sword Duke.

"Do you still want to continue this war, Sword Duke?"

As he spoke, he casually twirled his finger once in the air.

Whrrrrrrr!

The blades mirrored him, spinning once in a slow circle.

The Sword Duke’s throat tightened. He glanced down at the Emperor’s blood pooling beneath his boots...

...then looked up one final time.

And bowed his head, lowering his massive sword.

"...No," he said quietly.

"There’s nothing left to fight for."

The air stood still, and the war... was finally over.

Aestrea gave a faint, tired smile, but was victorious. He turned away, walking calmly toward the shadows at the side of the ruined throne room.

He stopped beside one broken pillar and then spoke.

"You can come out now, Empress Isabella."

A soft chuckle echoed in reply.

From the darkness, her heels clicked on the marble floor.

And then, she finally stepped out.

She was tall and elegant, cold as winter, beautiful as sin.

Her white hair shimmered faintly with soft blue and green highlights. Her long dress flowed behind her like a stream of moonlight. And her sharp, perfect face curved into a smirk.

Her light green eyes locked onto Aestrea’s red ones without fear.

"You’re impressive," she said softly, her voice as smooth as silk soaked in wine. "You did what no general, no hero, no prince could do."

Aestrea didn’t respond as he simply watched her with tired eyes.

"Get straight to the point," he let out a small yawn.

Isabella nodded.

"I want to propose a deal," she said, stopping just a few feet away. "The empire is without a ruler now. And I, as its Empress... can offer you whatever you desire."

Her voice was sweet, as faint pink mist enveloped her.

Lilith raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing, simply watching.

But interestingly enough, that offer made Aestrea chuckle.

A dark, sharp laugh, rising from his throat as if the very idea tasted bitter to him.

Isabella’s smirk faltered, and her eyebrows furrowed.

"...What’s so funny?" she asked, her voice colder now.

Aestrea took a slow step forward, silver hair brushing past his shoulders as his crimson eyes stared into hers.

"Could you maintain the throne..." he said casually, letting the words linger, "...if the Eldest Princess... and the Second Prince... returned?"

The question was directly shot at her, making her lips twitch almost instantly.

She didn’t answer immediately, but then... that cold confidence returned, her lips curling up into a deep smile.

"With your help," she said slowly, "I’d surely maintain it... no?"

Aestrea scoffed.

"Why would that benefit me?"

He didn’t even hide the scorn in his voice. His expression stayed flat, disinterested, tired. Even Lilith blinked at how blunt he was.

Isabella was silent for a moment.

Then she stepped closer, just a breath away from him now.

Her hands reached for the hem of her dress, sliding the golden trim down her shoulder just slightly, exposing the flawless, pale skin of her collarbone and the faint, glowing rune etched near her heart.

A divine seal.

"A Purified Virgin Body," she whispered.

Her tone shifted, turning into a tempting voice.

"If you take me... that divine body will activate. And the one who claims it, shares the gift."

She looked directly into his eyes, her smirk returning.

"You have a divine body, don’t you? You’d know what that means."

Aestrea’s eyes narrowed as her words made him think slightly.

Because Eleonora had mentioned the Purified Virgin Body before. It was a divine physique that only activated when the bearer gave away their virginity.

And once it did... it could absorb any kind of energy into the body.

Holy mana.

Dark mana.

Corrupted energy.

Divine blessings.

Cursed spells.

Anything.

Even corrupted or chaotic forces that would kill anyone no matter their strength, the body could purify and store, molding the user into an evolving vessel that could grow endlessly.

And the most terrifying part?

Whoever took the bearer’s virginity... would inherit a fragment of the same benefit.

Permanently.

For someone like Aestrea, whose Twin Heart Mana Body already increased the energy output inside his body, that would mean transcending even further.

Possibly reaching a level of compatibility between powers that no mortal had ever held before.

Isabella knew what she was offering.

And she was smiling as she did.

Even Lilith, still leaning against him, blinked and glanced between them, a faint scowl forming on her lips.

However, that made Aestrea curious.

She already had a Sanctified Soul, but now, she even had a Purified Virgin Body. How many secrets did the woman in front of him have?

"Haaa..." He exhaled slowly.

He didn’t speak, simply lowering his gaze to the glowing rune on Isabella’s skin.

"...So you’ve kept it sealed all this time?" he asked quietly.

Her smile widened.

"Not a single man has touched me."

"And you’re offering it to me?"

"I’m offering you more than that...," she whispered, stepping closer until their faces nearly touched.

"I’m still offering the entire kingdom."

"And what do you get?"

The moment Isabella heard those words, she reached out, gently brushing her fingers along his chest.

"In return... I ask only for protection. For the future. For the crown."

Lilith narrowed her eyes but said nothing, simply tightening her grip on Aestrea’s arm.

But Aestrea didn’t move; his eyes flickered between the glowing divine seal on Isabella’s chest and the hunger behind her gaze.

And for the first time in a while...

He was truly... considering it.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢