CHAPTER 55: The Fifty-Fifth Fracture

A hush settled over the greenhouse, like the world was holding its breath.

And then—

Something snapped.

A sharp crack echoed from the treeline. The vines above rustled—not from wind, but from presence. Uninvited.

Alric’s head whipped around. “Did you hear—?”

The glass above shattered.

A glyph appeared midair—dark, twitching, malformed. It wasn’t drawn. It was branded into the world, pulsing and collapsing in on itself like it was being devoured by its own creation. The lines bled black. It stank of rot.

“What the hell is with his glyph?” Alric asked.

Oizys stared at it. “That’s not magic.”

The glyph exploded.

A blast of black miasma tore through the greenhouse. Vines incinerated. The lattice collapsed. The wave roared forward—

Alric grabbed Oizys and threw them both behind a steel planter. The blast slammed overhead, raining glass and spores. A second later, it was quiet—except for the stink of scorched decay.

Alric peeked out.

A figure stood at the entrance. His cloak was in tatters, stitched with warped glyphs leaking black ichor. More hovered around him—unstable, some cracking apart midair.

He coughed, clutching a scorched arm. “Still alive? Tch.”

Alric stood. “What kind of twisted attack was that?”

Oizys grabbed his arm. “Curses. Not magic. They corrode everything. And they feed on the soul.”

“Then why the hell is there a curse user here?!”

Oizys didn’t answer.

The man lunged forward—straight at her.

“Die, false god!” he screamed, firing a spear of black plasma. A jagged glyph pulsed inside it, trailing sickened light behind.

Alric stepped in front of her. “Axiom Shield!”

A golden barrier snapped into place—perfect, circular. The cursed blast struck it and immediately began to eat through.

Alric’s eyes widened. “It’s breaking through! What is this?!”

“All curses do that!” Oizys shouted. “They weren’t meant to exist in this world!”

The shield cracked again. Then again. The fractures spread like spiderwebs.

Alric raised his hand. A second glyph appeared—his. Clean. Golden. Precise. It spun slowly, words of law circling the edge.

“Law of Dominion.”

Golden lines radiated outward, tracing a full field of law.

“This space obeys me.”

The cursed blast froze. Then unraveled—dissolving into harmless ash. The curse user staggered back. His glyphs flickered and shattered midair.

He screamed. “What—what did you do?!”

Alric stepped forward. “Your curses don’t belong here. I just reminded them.”

The man growled and summoned another glyph.

Alric vanished.

He reappeared in front of the man—his fist already moving. The punch landed hard in his gut. Then Alric twisted, releasing a wave of kinetic energy.

The man flew back—slamming into the academy wall with a deep explosion.

He stayed embedded in the stone, bleeding and barely conscious.

Alric walked toward him, his Dominion field moving with him.

He grabbed the man by the collar. “Who are you? Why’d you attack her?”

Me, Saaya, and Yuuka arrived just as the man coughed blood.

“Like I’d tell you,” he rasped.

His eyes locked on Oizys.

“We’re coming for you. All of you fallen gods. You should’ve stayed locked in the 10th fractal.”

“Shut up.” Alric slammed him into the ground and knocked him out.

“You’re not laying a finger on her.”

The light around Alric faded.

“Where’s the barrier?” I asked.

“Five-minute limit,” Alric said. “Pushing it further risks backlash.”

I stepped toward the body. “Saaya. Reverse the cause of his injuries. Alric—get ready to lock his powers again.”

Yuuka’s voice echoed in my head. “Already alerted the headmaster.”

Alric held out his hand. The glyph reignited. The golden barrier flickered back into place.

Saaya pressed her palm to the man’s chest. His wounds reversed. His body reformed.

I slapped him across the face. “Talk. Who sent you?!”

The man snarled. “Shut up, science reject. The devils of the underworld are rising. You’re already dead.”

The barrier trembled.

“I can’t hold it!” Alric shouted.

The barrier broke

The cursed glyphs began to reactivate.

The man started laughing—until it cut off with a choking sound. Blood spilled from his mouth.

Smoke poured from his body.

We turned.

A woman floated above the treeline, wrapped in black smoke. Her hand was extended—palm pointed down.

She fired seven black bolts. They struck the man at once.

He disintegrated instantly.

Not just dead. Gone.

“What the hell?!” I shouted. “Why’s his body falling apart?!”

“Is that curse magic too?!” Saaya asked.

The woman’s voice rang out across the treetops.

“Hades knows you’ve returned, Oizys. It’s only a matter of time before Thanatos finds out. You’ll die in the lower worlds—just like the rest.”

Then she vanished.