Shining Star: Part Four

Shining Star: Part Four

*SKRREEEEEE-CHUNGK!* Anicet’s spear slammed to the ground, the result of losing a power struggle against the crushing strength of Chad’s mighty arms.

With Astary defeated, the fate of the Nixie prince seemed sealed, and yet his stubbornness was unquenchable. He had survived alone against two Class S, even succeeding in eliminating Tsuki, but [Fatigue.PhaseThree] drained his [SP], and his Blue Bar was nearly entirely gray. He was now weaponless and exhausted, and yet far from vanquished.

“Anicet, please. It’s been an hour already. Just surrender and try again another time.” Though Chad’s words overflowed with confidence, the ’Hero’ was starting to feel a little paranoid. Even though [Fatigue.PhaseTwo] and a third of his [MP] left were giving him the upper hand, his Red Bar had been severely drained by various [Malus] inflicted by Nixie Prince's [Passive.Skills], pushing the ’HRE’s’ Scion dangerously close to a hazardous edge. Could he have planned this from the beginning? Or has the Holy Trinity rewarded his unshakable stubbornness? Chad wondered, wearing an unbothered expression to mask the pain of his organs slowly being consumed from within.

”Why…did you…do that?” The Scion of the Evernightmare Kingdom asked while hyperventilating.

“Did I do what?” Chad scratched his square chin.

“Astary…why?” Anicet’s voice trembled as he pointed a shaking finger at his blood rival. “She’s your fiancée…the woman you swore to protect—why?!”

Chad raised an eyebrow. “Are you stupid, or what?!" The Golden Prince yelled at the Dark Scion. "Astary is the reincarnation of Heroine Stella, even her weakest [Skills] can buff a Class F into a killing machine. This is a test, and as the leader of my team, I have a duty!” Then, his tone shifted, colder and harper. “But if we’re looking to blame someone, then it’s you—Anicet.”

The Nixie Prince blinked. ”What the hell…are you talking about?!”

“All it takes to kill a dragon is to aim at its wings, and as the team leader, protecting your most valuable asset should’ve been your top priority.” Chad couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of Anicet’s enraged expression. “That being said, Astary’s not without blame either. You, at least, told her to stay back, but she—overconfident as always—stayed too close, thinking she could be anything more than a cheerleader in this fight.” He shrugged. “Well, better for she to learn that lesson here than in a real battle, don’t you think? And besides, why do you care so much about Astary? She’s my woman, not yours—am I wrong?” Wait a minute…maybe…no way—that would be the funniest shit ever. Chad cruelly chuckled at the thought.

“Then…I must teach you a lesson about…arrogance—[TrueEnding].” A new weapon materialized in Anicet’s left hand. In many ways, it resembled Bad Ending, still a black spear, but instead of solid obsidian, it was mass of darkness that twisted endlessly on itself, shape-shifting with every blink. From Chad’s perspective, everything near the Nixie Prince was distorting, like water spiraling down a black whirlpool—around the lance the very fabric of space-time seemed to collapse. “I’m putting everything I have left into one final attack,” Anicet declared, his voice resembling the eerie static of a broken Hydro. “Surrender now, or die—not even teleportation will be fast enough to save your life.”

Chad erupted with joy—he couldn’t have wished for better words. "[JudgmentDay]!" The Prince's Ceramic-Woven Armor began to gleam, an orangish hue spreading through its white surface, followed by an immense and continuous emission of golden smoke. *Pop!* A bubble of ceramic formed on the armor, inflating for a couple of seconds before bursting. *Pop!* *Pop!* *Pop!* A myriad of new bubbles inflated and exploded, over and over again, until the ceramic began to liquefy like candle wax. Some of it dripping to the ground, but most of it flowing directly into his body, melting flesh, bones, and organs in its path. The 'Hero' laughed heartily—pain was one of the few things that still made him feel alive.

At first, the Teapot Armor softened like pizza dough, then it expanded into a sheet of incandescent ceramic before enveloping him, molding to Chad’s body like a second skin. The 'Hero' now resembled a marble statue of an ancient demigod—completely white and entirely naked—adorned only with a few golden accents---lips, nipples, and nails. The rest of the molten ceramic flowed down his back, reshaping itself into thirty-six massive wings, each dotted with dozens of golden orbs—all bearing a gleaming golden pupil.

"DO NOT BE AFRAID ANICET"

The two warriors stared each other for a few everlasting seconds, then the inevitable happened. With a burst of speed that rivaled even veteran Essentias, they charged at one another without breaking eye contact.

*Waaaaaaaaaah!* Anicet’s lance and Chad’s punch were mere millimeters apart when a siren’s blast ripped through the air, signaling the end of the test and teleporting them away.

***

The thud of footsteps, the bark of shouted orders, and the lack of heavy machinery echoed through the space as a continuous stream of people streamed into the once-silent cave. At the center of the chaotic stage stood an amber dome. Inside, a team of doctors—clad in red-and-yellow coats, each emblazoned with the Miraval Tree on the back—were taking care of four withered human bodies. These unlucky patients were covered by black spots from head to toe, no flesh remained between their skin and bones, and their blood vessels had turned as dark as coal—a nightmarish sight. And yet, somehow, they were still alive, suspended on the edge between life and death by dozens of tubes connecting them to various medical machines outside the dome.

Inside the amber glass, the stench was the hardest thing to endure due to the billions and billions of spores that saturated the air, eager to corrupt new victims, as the doctors within silently prayed that the antibiotic pills they had taken would be enough to spare them from the same eerie fate as their patients. ”Where is Esteve?! Where is the Amberizer?! Where is the reflector?!—I need some damn light!” DDD-Class ’Nerve Weaver’ Joaquim De Miraval’s entire career now hung by a thread. In front of him, four Class S students were dying—including the Princess of his empire—and, legally speaking, it was his fault.

He had joined the Dungeon Raid as required by the annoying protocols to test the goblin’s toxin strain—a routine task that now might cost him his head. ”Esteve has denied your request,” a sweaty operator outside the dome reported. ”He’s urging us to immediately transport them to the hospital, claiming it’s the only way to save their lives.”

”Every damn inhabitant of this city will be dead within a week if even a single spore of this virus leaks out!” Joaquim’s voice juxtaposed the rawest fury with the sheerest fear. ”Tell that idiot of my brother to get here immediately—or send the fucking Amberizer!” Over his many years as Medical Director of the Hôtel-Dieu de Saint Miraval, Md. Miraval had become the Empire’s foremost expert on poisons, bacteria, and viruses. However, this time it wasn’t something science could simply explain—an ancient evil had just been awakened.

Every year, selected experts in the various medical fields from across the ’HRE’ and Joseong gathered together for a prestigious conference to establish the guidelines that would shape healthcare across both empires. Amid the rigorous debates, one peculiar tradition always stole the spotlight—a deduction game. The rules were simple. Using modern medical knowledge, participants were challenged to diagnose a mysterious historical case that had claimed the life of a historical figure. Last year, however, one case remained unsolved—a weird and unsettling tale about a parasitic mold that devoured its host.

“The mold is blocking all my attempts to connect with their nerves. Damn it! Keep the Ether injections going…it’s our only hope.” His three assistants moved with precision, injecting the colorless liquid into the necks of the four Class S students. For a brief moment, over their empty Red Bars, an Indigo Bar flashed into existence, only to vanish a few minutes later, forcing the team to inject again.

Each injection of Ether costs as much as a speedboat. But there’s no other option—I have to keep them alive until the Amberizer arrives.

***

Anicet and Chad watched in horror the nightmarish vision through the window wall of a room overlooking the Dungeon’s entry. Their four classmates—Kafka, Mikhail, Armen, and Bradamanthe—were dying right before their eyes.

”I’m going to see my sister. LEAVE—NOW!” The ’Hero’ roared at Mr. Anhogi, who stood firmly between him and the exit.

”Are you telling a loyal soldier of the ’HRE’ to let his future Emperor run straight into a pointless death?” The professor didn’t budge, sneering at the blend of hatred, anxiety, and disarray visible over the Scion’s face.

”We’re working to figure out what happened,” Mr. Blues said, eyes scanning a spread of reports on his desk. ”So please, don’t slow us down with an infantile reaction.” The 'Thermal Elegance' was compiling a list of those who could have poisoned the goblins’ weapons. However, despite his meticulous analysis, the list was disturbingly short—himself, Mr. Anhogi, and Md. Miraval. Still, if I were the culprit, I wouldn’t have boxed myself in so easily—it’s just silly.

”He’s right,” Anicet interjected. ”During the test, I saw your sister and Armen get infected by the goblins’ weapons. Frankly, I doubt any Dungeon Programming could generate such a sophisticated poison. So, instead of wasting your energy on something only a doctor can do, you should focus your mental strength on finding who tried to assassinate the Princess of the Holy Rolandish Empire.” His words cast a incandescent veil over the room, yet it was hot enough to soothe the Prince’s heart.

“We can also confirm his theory,” Tsuki added. “Have you forgotten? The mold on Mr. Rustaveli and Mr. Yazov only appeared after the goblins struck them. But there’s more that you probably haven’t noticed. Kafka was hit only because he tried to protect Miss Rougedior, and after his teleport, Mikhail stepped in—suffering the same fate. It seems this so-called culprit was after royal blood.” Next to the ’Time Samurai,’ the ’Dust Symphonist ’ sat on the floor paralyzed, cursing herself for the pathetic performance that had ruined the lives of two of her classmates

A failure as a Marquis, a failure as a woman, and now, a failure as an Essentia. She had finally received the confirmation of her greatest fear—she had been born only to be a disappointment.

”It seems that, despite their immortality, gods can still rot,” Chad enigmatically whispered, posing his eyes on the amber dome one last time. ”What happened to Shadow Eye? I don’t see him here…or in the cave.”

”He’s burned alive three thousand…seven hundred…and thirty-seven times,” Astary replied, her light dimming to its lowest. ”His mind couldn’t handle the shock, and the doctors sent him for psychiatric treatment…but honestly…I’m not sure of anything anymore.” She rested her head on Chad’s shoulder, waiting for his touch, but the ’Hero’ didn’t move—lost in thought.

”Your Native classmate just needs time to recover—unlike those four,” Mr. Anhogi cut in coldly. ”But don’t worry. Beneath our feet, horrors beyond human comprehension, far more terrifying than that ugly mold, are being studied—a cure will be found soon. Nevertheless, whether this was an accident or an assassination attempt, it’s our duty to uncover the truth—not yours.” He jerked his thumb toward the door. ”Now fuck off—you all are just a burden to us.”

“I agree with Verdan,” Mr. Blues said, still half-buried in his reports. “Today’s lessons are suspended. However, I must ask you all to remain within school grounds, and report anything or anyone suspicious.”

”I’ll help Ælfgifu back to her room. See you tomorrow,” Tsuki gently said, lifting her friend with care. But before leaving, she paused, expecting a hand from the ’Hero,’ but he didn’t even offer a goodbye.

“Sorry, Astary,” he muttered instead, turning away. “I need some time to myself.” And just like that, he walked off the room, leaving the ’Nostalgic Reactionary’ and the ’Shining Star’ alone.

Anicet glanced at Astary. Her poker face betrayed itself through subtle signs—tiny vibrations at the corners of her mouth and too many nervous finger movements. The Nixie Prince had always observed from afar the so-called normal people, believing that if he studied them long enough, he might one day learn how to act like one of them. Instead, he had learned how to read their true feelings with just a single glance.

During his first week at Miraval Academy, Nixie Prince noticed that although Astary was a strong girl, whenever a problem involved Chad, that strength vanished, turning her into a completely different person. I can’t just ask her out…I’m not her friend…It’s too soon. ”See you tomorrow, Miss Von Sternenstaub,” Anicet whispered, avoiding her eyes. But before he could reach the door, he felt something gently touch his shoulder and a whisper in his ear.

”Please…just for today…don’t leave me alone.”

THE WORLD'S END BLOG:

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