The Unvanquished: Child of Nihility-Chapter 79: Paralyzed

Chapter 79 – (Paralyzed –What happened? Why... can’t I move? What’s with that eye)

The sun had climbed gently overhead, casting angled beams across the tiled Central Region walkways. The cafeteria pavilion – set at the north edge of the central zone – stood ahead, nestled between modern advanced buildings. The wind carried the faint aroma of spirit-dishes, fried beast-meat, and golden rice.

Morca walked alone, hands in his pants pockets, his gaze loose but inward. His steps were measured, silent – the kind of walk that blurred into the background of a bustling street.

Until–

"Morca!"

A voice behind him, sharp, feminine, and unmistakably familiar.

But he didn’t stop. He knew that voice. Knew it too well. And yet... not because he looked down on her, but quite the opposite. He knew there were a lot of eyes on him now, especially here in the public Central Region where both foes and paper tigers lurked.

He didn’t want to implicate anyone in his mess – especially her. So he kept walking.

"Morca Sherman!"

Closer this time – footsteps now – hurried ones.

The already frowning Tyler knew he could hear her. But why was he giving her the cold shoulder? ’Is it because he considers me too weak that he looks down on me now?’ she thought, clenching her fists.

’I will just see for myself,’ she decided, gritting her teeth so hard that if not for the street noise, Morca might have heard it. With that, she hurried toward him.

As if noticing her pace, Morca sighed inwardly. And just as the footsteps reached his back, he halted and turned slightly.

Tyler Sherman was already standing behind him, breath erratic. Her chest rose and fell with exertion, her uniform coat unfastened halfway as she caught her breath. The sharp lines of her black eyes locked onto him with something between concern and frustration.

A few seconds passed before she found her words.

"What is on your mind these days," she said, tone cold but not harsh, "that you can space out in the middle of the street like that?"

Morca blinked once, then tilted his head slightly, studying her with those mismatched eyes – crimson and abyssal, calm and unreadable.

He gave a faint shrug, his expression neutral but faintly amused. "You know this is a busy street," he said smoothly. "I didn’t hear you the first time."

’He’s lying,’ Tyler thought, having regained her composure. Her breathing slowed, her shoulders straightened. But as she stepped closer and raised her eyes to meet his, something... shifted.

Their gazes locked. And in that instant, her body froze – her breath caught mid-motion.

She couldn’t move – not a single muscle. Not her hands, not her lips. Not even her eyelids.

Her thoughts spiraled. ’What happened? Why... can’t I move? What’s with that eye?’

Panic rose in her chest, but she couldn’t speak – just staring into that abyssal, swirling black eye she couldn’t look away from.

Her mind screamed, but her voice refused to follow.

And through it all, Morca remained quiet, his expression unreadable. His eyes – one glowing piercing crimson, the other swirling with endless black – held her like a chainless trap. No force. No visible aura. Just... a strange presence.

’...She must have been paralyzed by the left eye without me knowing,’ he thought. As if noticing the fracture he’d caused, Morca gently turned his gaze away.

The restriction shattered instantly.

Tyler stumbled a half-step backward, eyes wide, heart thundering. ’D..Did... He just att... attack me? No, I’m the one who looked at him...’

She gasped quickly – like waking from drowning. Just one glance and she already looked like a jerk...

Morca didn’t speak again. ’Hope she didn’t misunderstand...’ He looked around, confirming that the little scene hadn’t gone unnoticed.

’Though not intentional, this is enough for them to misunderstand something,’ he thought, continuing toward the cafeteria, hands still tucked in his pockets.

As if nothing had happened.

And behind him, Tyler remained still, gripping the sleeve of her coat, her heart refusing to slow.

’That wasn’t aura pressure. That wasn’t aura suppression – then... what was that just now?’

Still shaken but unwilling to be left behind, Tyler quickly composed herself and hurried after Morca. ’I must find some clue.’

Together, they crossed the final street leading into the Cafeteria Pavilion – one of the most prominent structures on the northern side of the Central Region, where all cadets of EDA had their meals.

The moment they stepped through the rune-gate entrance, a subtle shift in atmosphere welcomed them.

---

EDA Cafeteria Pavilion

A towering four-floor structure, the Pavilion was crafted from obsidian steel and white-glass panels, with golden mana-lines tracing its vertical edges like veins of fire. The building pulsed faintly, alive with the constant churn of foot traffic and low conversation.

Each floor had its own identity:

The First Floor – Wide, open, bustling. This was the commons – where most cadets, regardless of class or affiliation, gathered to eat, talk, or unwind. Dozens of self-serve mana-trays lined the walls. The scent of roasted beast meat and spiritroot stew wafted through the air.

Second Floor – Quieter. Mostly reserved for Elite, Exceptional, and Unique Class cadets of any year. Entry required ID sync from one’s wrist device. The lighting here was calmer, the seating more refined – long rune-carved tables with privacy enchantments along the walls.

Third Floor – Restricted. Reserved only for higher-year cadets with merit or reputation. Those who had passed through more than just dungeon survival – those with a record of victories.

Top Floor – The most secluded. Accessible only to elite Monument Tower-ranked cadets. Each table was sectioned into alcoves, guarded by subtle barriers that muffled sound and isolated presence. Even instructors respected this space.

Morca and Tyler stepped into the first floor. The low hum of voices greeted them, alongside the gentle clinking of mana-cutlery and trays. Cadets were seated in groups, chatting and eating.

Tyler walked beside him, eyes flicking warily toward the booths.

"Are we eating here?" she asked lightly, trying to mask the lingering tension in her voice.

But Morca didn’t answer. His eyes, for a moment, had lifted – not at her, but instinctively upward...

---

Third Floor – Overhead 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

A broad-shouldered figure leaned against the window of the third floor’s shaded corner.

Clad in the standard EDA uniform, his was distinct – not like the black-lined design of first-year cadets, but a steel-gray and black trim worn by second-years.

On his chest was a blood-red thorn insignia – an Apex Thorn Division cadet.

---

In the academy, going out on a dungeon clearance for the first time required a team of four or five cadets who were all at least Saint Rank. The leader, ideally, should be a Sage Rank expert, guiding three or more members. With that foundation, a division would naturally form – and that was how the Apex Thorn Division, among many others, came into existence.

The Apex Thorn Division was only one of them. And it’s not limited to second-year cadets. It operated more like a mini-organization within the academy, led by one of the top twenty third-year cadets ranked in the Monument Tower. As for Leron Vance, he was merely the sub-leader responsible for the second-year group – a natural role for someone ranked fifteenth among them.

Why did the academy encourage divisions? Simple: pressure sharpens the blade. Competition breeds excellence.

---

The second-year cadet sipped his dark liquor slowly, his gaze locked on the two figures below.

One eye narrowed.

"That’s him. And he seems to have noticed me," he muttered low and slow. "The one who triggered a reaction from the Tower."

He didn’t move. But his presence did.

Behind him, another cadet at the same table shifted subtly – a silent acknowledgment of something stirring.

---

Back on the first floor, Morca’s gaze lowered again as if nothing had happened. But Tyler noticed the faint tension that brushed past his shoulder.

"Morca?" she asked again, quieter this time.

He blinked once, calmly, then offered a faint reply.

"Let’s eat first."

With that, they moved toward the serving station – unaware that multiple eyes now followed their every step. Unaware... but not unprepared.

---

First Floor – Cafeteria Pavilion

The two found a corner booth, away from the heaviest foot traffic. With mana-light flickering gently above them and soft chatter murmuring in the distance, the space offered just enough peace.

Their meals were simple – spiritroot stew with smoked beast strips, fried needles and a small energy-crystal fruit for digestion. Tyler poked at hers a little before speaking.

"You’ve changed a lot, Mor..." she said softly, watching him with narrowed eyes. "Especially that left eye of yours. It’s not just a color thing. It holds something else. Power... strange power. When you looked at me earlier, I felt like... I couldn’t move at all."

Morca didn’t stop eating. He simply paused, chewing calmly before replying.

"Says someone who broke through to Saint Rank last night," he countered with a low hum. "You’ve changed too."

Tyler’s brow twitched. A faint blush rose to her cheeks – not from flattery, but from the reminder. She looked away, eyes settling on her drink.

This monster... she thought inwardly. I won’t give up so easily. I’ll close the gap... no matter what it takes. That eye of his... one day, I’ll face it head-on.

But aloud, she only replied with a grin. "Guess we’re both evolving then."