Chapter 382: Scared "I swear... this place was just fine yesterday," Sybil whispered under her breath as they walked carefully through the ruined marketplace. Her voice wasn’t even loud, yet it felt like it echoed off the broken walls around them. Just one day ago, this place had been filled with life... students had been chatting while buying snacks, merchants yelling out prices as usual and even the children of the sellers were running between the stalls. Even Azel’s favorite fish kebab seller was here... Now everything was death. Bits of broken stalls were scattered everywhere. Half-burnt wood, torn cloth hanging off shattered beams, crushed herbs and items scattered across the dirt. The ground was stained with dark patches of dried blood. And most painfully... bodies. Sybil stopped walking for a moment when she noticed a familiar figure near a collapsed table. It was the chip-seller old woman... the one who always gave her an extra packet of chips for free whenever Sybil looked like she needed cheering up. Now the woman was split into four different pieces, her limbs arranged in horrifying angles. Sybil’s throat tightened. She clenched her fist hard enough for her fingernails to cut her palm. "Monsters..." she muttered. Above them, curses perched on cracked rooftops with their twisted silhouettes hunched like hungry vultures. Some had long arms dragging on the ground. Others had too many glowing eyes. A few had elongated mouths that stretched across their sickly humanoid torsos. They were sniffing the air like rabid animals. "You should get used to it," Torrent said from the front, floating calmly as if the stench of death didn’t faze him at all. "All of us are trapped on this island with our enemies. Even a Great Mage like myself can’t break through the barrier they put around us. Until the barrier weakens, we don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here." He looked back at the students following behind him. "So steel your minds," he continued. "This is not an ordinary school day. This is survival. And survival demands your everything..." The group continued moving until someone suddenly stopped. A tall young nobleboy, normally well-groomed and proud-looking, now stood trembling in place. His eyes were bloodshot and his breathing was uneven. Everyone turned toward him as he shook his head violently. "I refuse," he whispered. Then louder... "I refuse!" Torrent raised an eyebrow. "Explain." The nobleboy clenched his teeth with tears burning his eyes. "I was with my sister... and my roommate... We were just cooking dinner in my dorm room... and then everything collapsed!" His voice cracked. "They were slashed through before I even understood what was happening! They died in an instant! And I survived only because a piece of the ceiling blocked the slash from reaching me!" He pointed at Torrent with his expression twisted with grief. "And now you expect me to fight? To risk my life? The Academy should’ve stopped this! It’s useless! Useless!" His hands shook violently. "Tell me why I should give my life so others survive! My magic is average... I know I won’t last long! Why should I die for strangers?!" Torrent floated closer slowly. The nobleboy stepped further back, panicking. "Don’t come closer! I mean it! I’m done! I don’t want to do anything anymore!" He turned, running blindly... And slammed straight into something massive. Sybil’s eyes widened as a large muscular curse emerged from behind a collapsed fruit stall. It towered over the nobleboy with its head shaped like a warped human skull and its body stitched with dark veins full of corrupted mana. The noble fell backward, landing hard on the ground. He looked up into the curse’s empty sockets and all of his courage evaporated. He pissed himself instantly, a wet stain spreading across his trousers. "No... no, no... HELP!!! HELP ME!!!" he screamed as he scrambled backward with his limbs shaking uncontrollably. "Professor—! Please—!" Torrent stared at him coldly. "I hate students that disrespect their Professors." Before the curse could strike, Silas stepped forward silently. He raised one hand, releasing a sharp wave of sound. The curse’s head exploded like a burst watermelon, chunks of corrupted flesh splattering onto the stones. Torrent flicked his finger dismissively. "Since you want to leave so badly... get the fuck out of here. And don’t ever show your face near the Academy again. If I see you, I’ll kill you myself." The nobleboy scrambled up and ran, disappearing into the shadows. Torrent watched him leave with a tired sigh. ’They don’t make men like they used to,’ he thought. Then he rolled his eyes at himself. ’Why am I talking like an elder...? I’m barely a hundred.’ Before he could dwell on it, another sound made itself known. "P-please!!! Someone help!!! We’re trapped under this rubble!!" The voice was muffled but they could all hear it. Torrent immediately turned toward the sound. With a simple gesture, he raised an entire pile of rubble into the air, revealing three marketplace women beneath it. They were crushed, bleeding, and barely breathing. Rain rushed forward the instant Torrent’s eyes met hers. ’These injuries aren’t out of my expertise,’ she thought as she knelt. ’Lucky.’ Her hands glowed with holy light. She placed her palms gently on each woman. The holy energy wrapped around them and seeped into their wounds. Bones snapped back into place and the bruises faded. Within seconds, they were healed. One woman gasped awake. "My... my child! My son!" she yelled, panic returning immediately. She staggered to her feet and ran to the side of the building. Rain and Sybil followed close behind. The backside of the shop was still intact... miraculously. The woman banged loudly on the locked storeroom door. "Arnie! Arnie, answer me!" A small voice responded. "Ma... ma?" A click. The door opened slightly, revealing a terrified eight-year-old boy. "Arnie!" The woman fell to her knees and hugged him tightly. "Thank the goddess... you’re alive..." Sybil exhaled softly, watching the emotional reunion. Rain, however, felt something different. A warmth spread in her chest. ’Is... is this how it feels to have a child?’ she wondered. She tried imagining what her own child would look like... And strangely, the child in her mind had silver hair. She blinked in confusion. ’Why am I thinking of him...?’ And then... A loud, furious voice exploded inside her skull. [SO YOU’RE THE ONE THAT STOLE AZEL FROM ME?! AT LEAST HE’S ALIVE BUT STILL!! YOU HOMEWRECKER! WHORE! PROSTITUTE! HUBBY THIEF! YOU LOOK LIKE A CHILD!!!] Rain froze. That was Nyala’s voice. The pure goddess of light, the one worshipped by millions was cursing like she was about to fight someone in an alley. But the curses weren’t the important part... "Azel is alive?" she whispered.