The Strongest Student of the Weakest Academy-Chapter 418: The Beginning Of The End [LXXX]

From Aestrea’s outstretched hand, two beams burst forth at the same time, one being a pitch-black color that swallowed all light around it, and the other pure being a white, which was radiant and cold, shining with absolute clarity.

They spiraled around one another as they came from his hand, twisting together like two intertwined serpents, perfectly balanced yet utterly destructive.

FWOOOOOOOOOM! 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The beams surged forward.

Sound was erased first.

Then color.

Then matter.

Everything in front of Aestrea, whether that was flames, sand, shattered ruins, or even distorted air, was wiped away without resistance.

The fused god barely had time to scream before his body was caught within the spiraling beams.

His axe disintegrated instantly, golden flames extinguished in less than a millisecond.

"NOOO, WAIT!!!!"

It was already too late for him to try to beg or anything like that.

Swish!

The moment the beams touched him, his existence began to unravel from the inside out.

Blood, bone, divinity, soul... everything was torn apart and erased from existence simultaneously.

There was no pain, no release, no afterlife waiting.

Only nothingness.

The beams continued onward even after erasing him, tearing through the domain itself as if it were made of paper.

Crack!

CRACK!

Space split open.

A massive fissure ripped across reality, stretching endlessly in both directions.

Inside it was not darkness, but actually swirling galaxies, shattered stars, and distorted cosmic currents churned violently within, as if the universe itself had been cut open and laid bare.

It was beautiful, but also very terrifying.

The edges of space struggled violently to seal the wound, but the Karma-infused destruction prevented it from closing.

The fissure widened further, pulling in light, heat, and remnants of existence like a cosmic abyss.

The domain collapsed completely, meaning that the volcanoes, the sand, and everything else had disappeared.

Only that giant fissure remained.

Aestrea lowered his hand slowly.

His body descended, feet touching nothing as he stepped forward into the void without hesitation.

The moment he entered the fissure, unimaginable pressure crashed down upon him.

Cosmic winds screamed, tearing at his body with enough force to shred powerful gods apart. Shards of broken space sliced past him, each one capable of ending strong gods.

Aestrea gritted his teeth and then reached out with both hands.

Grip!

He directly grabbed the fissure itself.

His fingers sank into space, gripping the edges of reality as if they were solid. Blood seeped from his palms as the pressure tried to rip him apart.

"Close..."

He pulled.

The galaxy-like abyss resisted violently, the forces within surging as if enraged. Stars exploded within the wound, cosmic energy lashing out wildly.

"Fucking close already!"

『 ✯ Authority of Karma ✯ 』

His Authority flared again, the yin-yang symbol blazing behind him as black-and-white light surged through his arms.

He forced the fissure shut.

CRASH!!!

Reality snapped back into place.

A shockwave erupted outward, flattening what little remained of the battlefield.

Space stabilized, sound returned, and the world reasserted itself as if nothing had ever been torn apart.

Aestrea stumbled forward slightly as the last traces of the fissure vanished.

"Fuuuu."

Drip... drip...

Blood dripped from his hands, evaporating before it could touch the ground.

And slowly, the yin-yang symbol behind him faded as the carps in his eyes slowly dissolved, replaced once again by moon-shaped pupils.

’One last opponent left...’

He shook his right hand slighly before continuing further into the now-erased remnants of whatever seemed to be ruins.

He just walked a few hundred meters and finally reached the place that seemed to be Octo’s true hideout.

At the very center of the devastation stood a large, circular chamber that somehow remained untouched.

Unlike the chaos outside, this place was clean, intact, and strangely quiet.

Dim lights lined the walls, softly humming, illuminating a massive throne-like chair positioned at the far end of the room.

Someone was sitting there.

A man.

His back was turned toward Aestrea.

One leg was crossed over the other, fingers lazily tapping against the armrest, as if he had been waiting the entire time.

"So you finally made it."

The voice was very calm.

Aestrea didn’t answer, and seeing this, the man let out a soft chuckle.

"You know... when I was a child, I used to think the world was beautifully simple."

His fingers stopped tapping.

"I believed everyone could be fixed. That if you just pushed people in the right direction, showed them the correct path, they would all become better versions of themselves."

He leaned back slightly in his chair.

"But reality doesn’t work like that, does it?"

A slow sigh escaped him.

"I was born weak. No great lineage. No divine favor. While other gods awakened their authorities naturally, I had to steal scraps just to survive. Experiments, failures, mockery... I was always the one standing behind the glass, watching others be called ’chosen.’"

His shoulders rose faintly.

"I hated it."

Silence filled the chamber.

"So I studied them. Minds. Emotions. Fear. Obedience. I learned how easy it is to bend people when you remove choice from the equation."

Aestrea took a single step forward.

The man continued.

"I planned everything carefully. The perfect system. A world without resistance. No wars. No chaos. Just control. Absolute, beautiful control."

He laughed softly.

"I was going to brainwash everyone. Slowly, and gently... rewrite them so they wouldn’t even realize what they had lost."

His head tilted slightly.

"And then... you appeared."

The tapping returned.

"A random nobody. An existence that wasn’t even part of my calculations. You invaded my base, slaughtered everyone, and ruined decades of preparation."

For the first time, irritation crept into his voice.

"I didn’t even remember meeting you. Not once. No rivalry. No past grievance. You weren’t supposed to matter."

He paused slighly.

"But then my reports came in."

And then, another chuckle slipped from his lips.

"That ’nobody’ was the Fallen God."

The chair slowly began to turn.

"Imagine my disappointment."

The man finally faced Aestrea.

His appearance was twisted, wires embedded into his flesh, mechanical parts fused unnaturally with his body.

One eye glowed with cold calculation, while the other twitched erratically, veins bulging around it.

Tubes ran along his arms and neck, pulsing faintly as data and divinity flowed through them.

Octo smiled.

"You see now?" he said, spreading his arms slightly. "I had plans. Perfect plans. And then fate decides to send you."

Aestrea’s gaze remained calm.

Then, Octo slowly stood up; his movements were oddly elegant for someone so distorted.

"But then I thought... maybe this isn’t a setback."

He took a step forward.

"Maybe this is an opportunity."

He stretched his arm outward toward Aestrea, palm open.

"You and I aren’t so different," Octo continued, his voice starting to grow more excited than before.

"You enforce your own way of balance. I enforce order. You judge. I decide."

His smile widened, eyes gleaming with manic brilliance.

"Help me."

The word echoed.

"Together, we can rewrite the world. No resistance. No suffering. No meaningless struggle. We’ll make everyone obedient, peaceful, perfect."

His fingers curled slightly, as if already grasping the future.

"You don’t have to fight anymore, Fallen God."

"Join me."

The room fell as Octo waited for Aestrea’s response.

He felt strangely certain that his offer was irresistible, but for someone like Aestrea who went through almost one thousand reincarnations...

It was mediocre at best.

Chronos was too damn strong, just like the Creator of Everything had told him. She deliberately made him that way.

So, Aestrea didn’t have time to listen to these stupid gimmicks of a mere cannon fodder than like Octo.

’...What a waste of time,’ he sighed inwardly.

Octo kept his arm stretched out, palm open, his fingers twitching slightly as if already imagining Aestrea’s hand resting in his own.

The silence dragged on for quite a while.

"Hahaha..."

Then Octo laughed hollowly.

"Ah... I see it already," he said, withdrawing his hand and pacing in a small circle before the throne.

"That look in your eyes... that judgmental look. You’re weighing me, aren’t you? Deciding whether I’m worth erasing."

He stopped walking.

"But before you do," Octo continued, turning his back to Aestrea once more, "you deserve to hear the rest. After all... you’re already part of my story now."

He snapped his fingers.

The walls of the chamber flickered, then lit up with countless projection screens.

Images started filling the air as countless cities, realms, and divine territories appeared.

Billions of living beings moving on with their lives, unaware of whatever is happening right now.

"When I was young," Octo muttered softly, as if it were some kind of precious memory.

"I learned something very important. Freedom is something... overrated."

He gestured toward one of the projections, showing a war-torn land littered with corpses.

"Give people freedom, and they kill each other for it. Give them a choice, and they choose greed. Give them power, and they drown the world in blood."

Another screen showed starving civilians bowing to a tyrant god.

"So I asked myself, why not remove the problem?"

Octo turned again, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Choice is the problem."

He spread his arms wide, almost theatrically.

"My plan wasn’t crude mind control, despite what others believed. No, no... that’s inefficient. Temporary. People resist it eventually."

He tapped his temple.

"I was going to rewrite the foundation of thought. A universal resonance. A subtle frequency layered into reality itself. Not commands, but instincts. Obedience would feel natural. Peace would feel inevitable."

"You call that peace?" Aestrea asked curiously.

Octo smiled wider upon hearing his words.

"I call it mercy."

He walked closer to him.

"You, of all beings, should understand that. You judge the world. You erase those who tip the balance too far. You decide who deserves to exist."

His voice sharpened.

"So why is it wrong when I try to prevent imbalance before it even happens?"

He leaned in slightly.

"Do you know how many times your existence alone has terrified gods into submission? How many wars ended simply because the Fallen God might appear?"

Octo’s hands trembled, not with fear, but excitement.

"You’re proof that control works."

He straightened abruptly.

"That’s why I studied you."

"I traced your movements across eras. Every time you appeared, civilizations reset. Corruption vanished. Balance returned. You don’t rule... yet the world bends anyway."

Octo’s mechanical eye glowed brighter.

"So I realized something incredible. There’s a certain authority that is within every single Fallen God... and that is... Karma."

He pointed at Aestrea.

"You don’t just control Karma."

"You are Karma’s exception."

The projections changedagain.

This time, they showed ancient experiments of failed fusion subjects, fractured souls, broken gods screaming as their minds collapsed.

"I tried to recreate you," Octo admitted calmly. "I failed. Again and again. No one could hold that authority without breaking."

His lips twitched.

"But then fate handed you to me."

Octo took another step forward, stopping just an arm’s length from Aestrea.

"If you help me," he uttered quietly, almost reverently, "I don’t need to enslave the world."

"I can let you decide who keeps their will."

"You could remove suffering permanently. No more rebellions. No mad gods. No endless cycles of chaos that even you have to keep cleaning up."

He extended his arm again.

"Rule with me."

"Not as a tyrant."

"But as a designer."

His eyes, filled with expectation, looked at Aestrea.