Chapter 40: Breaking Point

*Date: 33,480 First Quarter - Chalice Theocracy*

After the class day was over, Aris was heading to the library to meet Lyra and check the effects of the witness stone.

Fox immediately confronted him. "You drew too many eyes on yourself today."

"So?" Aris replied, still riding the high of his victory.

Fox lowered his voice to a whisper. "In case you didn't notice, you are... a spy here."

The reality hit Aris like cold water. "Oh... You're right. I shouldn't draw more attention."

In the library, Lyra had finished her railed ladder system and was having fun testing it, sliding books up and down the tracks with obvious satisfaction.

Fox was irritated. "Is that why you're here? To build stupid contraptions?"

"Someone's cranky today. What's wrong with him?" Lyra asked Aris.

"Today Rathvoss made us duel," Aris explained.

Fox intervened with exasperation. "And he wiped the floor with the fae girl the leader of their peer group."

"Ooh, good job, Aris!" Lyra said with genuine enthusiasm.

Fox's frustration boiled over. "Good job? What's wrong with you? He should lay low!"

"Oh right. Don't do it again, Aris," Lyra said, finally understanding the implications.

Fox threw up his paws in exasperation. "Why am I the only one who actually cares about your wellbeing? Do whatever you want." He ducked down in a corner, clearly fed up with their lack of caution.

"So I'm guessing the witness stone actually worked?" Lyra asked.

"You have no idea how many projectiles I manifested. It was like multiple energy blasters," Aris said excitedly.

"A what?" Lyra asked, not understanding the reference.

Aris bit his tongue, remembering not to talk about outside technology. "Never mind. It was a lot."

"Okay, you read or study for a couple hours. After everyone leaves, we can examine the witness stone's effects. It should protect its power until morning."

Aris gestured for Fox to join him at a corner table. Both took seats, and Aris started reading his study materials, trying to focus despite the excitement still coursing through his veins.

After a couple of hours, when the library became empty, Lyra came over and activated Aris's status display.

[Name: Aris Orvellis]

[Level: 36] Timer: 8:43:12

[Race: Human]: 10% bonus to all stats

[XP: 10/52,685]

In the right corner were his titles:

[Adept Healer]: 3 tier 1 healing spell slots [ 3/3 ], 1 tier 2 spell slot [ 0/1 ], +2 Manifest +2 Resonance, [Healing Touch RP points: 5/5], [Light Missile RP points: 5/5], [Cure Disease RP points: 5/5]

[Dabbler Alchemist]: Tier 1 potion crafting chance 20%, Tier 2 potion crafting chance 5%, Tier 3 potion crafting not available, +1 Endeavor +1 Harvest

[Reader]: Step to scholarly mind. +2 Insight. Learning increased 10%.

[Lucky Apprentice]: Double each luck-based content. Luck spent [13/1,000]. Luck-based content can't be lower than 5%.

[Blood Initiate]: Sacrifice your health to gain power.

[NW points: 4] Reach 100 for Local Legend

[Echo: 5] Captured echo: 3, temporary echo: 2

Templar Specialty *temporary echo: Holy Smite, Holy Defense

His stats were dramatically enhanced:

**Core Body**

- Vitality: 36

- Force: 46

- Agility: 21

- Resilience: 11

- Stamina: 11

**Mind & Spirit**

- Insight: 15

- Manifest: 37

- Will: 11

- Empathy: 11

- Resonance: 13

**Social Influence**

- Renown: 18

- Command: 18

- Credence: 18

**Craft & Survival**

- Ingenuity: 11

- Endeavor: 12

- Harvest: 12

- Attunement: 11

**Hidden/Meta**

- Narrative Weight (NW): 4

- Resonance Points (RP): NA

- Mythic Tone: Temporary

- Continuity: NA

"Oh my Lord! Look at those stats. It was a level 36 templar witness stone," Aris breathed in amazement.

"Hmm. It's not compatible with you, but hey, it's a win," Lyra observed.

Fox looked at the timer with concern. "Look at the timer, idiots. You've spent your super power, and there are only eight hours left."

"We can figure out how to recharge it, right?" Aris asked hopefully.

"Sure we can..." Lyra said in a voice that suggested she didn't believe it either.

Fox jumped from the window in frustration. "I can't deal with your lack of planning. Zero strategy just go with the flow. I saw pheasants in the yard. I'll catch them." He bounded away on magical steps through the air.

"I think he's regretting coming here," Lyra observed.

"I wonder how I can manifest Holy Smite or Holy Defense?" Aris mused.

"Don't use them on students. You might kill someone without meaning to," Lyra warned seriously.

"It's late. I'm going to bed," Aris said, feeling the exhaustion creeping in despite his enhanced stats.

The Academy halls were never silent. Even after curfew, the marble corridors seemed to breathe with shifting lantern light, wind sighing through tall windows, and the faint drip of water from rooftop gutters. Aris had grown used to these sounds during his late nights in the library, nose buried in beginner spellbooks that only half responded to his clumsy touch.

But tonight, something was wrong.

When he rounded the corner leading toward the dormitory wing, his breath caught. Five figures stood in the gloom, their pale outlines lit by blue faelight. The faint scent of crushed flowers hung in the air - fae magic.

"Human," one of them whispered, voice like silk hiding a blade. "You thought you could humiliate Sliver Stoneflower and walk away?"

Aris froze. The five fae students, one older than him by a year or two, spread in a crescent, cutting off his retreat. Their eyes glowed faintly, their postures sharp and graceful like predators preparing to strike.

"You don't understand," Aris said, his voice cracking despite the strength pulsing in his limbs from the witness stone. "It was a duel. I didn't—"

"Enough excuses." A taller boy spat the words with venom. "She is our leader. Our friend. Our beloved. You scarred her face in front of everyone. That cannot stand."

The first blows were fists and knees, the fae trying to prove their superiority without magic. Aris blocked, shoved, and swung back with desperate strength. He caught one in the ribs with a punch that sent the boy staggering and kneed another in the thigh hard enough to make him grunt in pain.

Wrestling lessons with Demir, taught by his father, had given him one or two moves that served him now.

For a moment, hope flickered and his body felt quicker and stronger than it ever had before, thanks to the witness stone's power.

But five against one was no fair duel.

One fae tripped him with a graceful sweep, another kicked him as he went down. Pain exploded across his ribs and stomach. Boots pounded him while cold laughter echoed in the corridor like the sound of breaking glass.

Aris rolled desperately, scrambled to his feet, and swung wildly. His fist caught someone's chin, snapping their head back with a satisfying crack. Another spell burned across his shoulder - raw faelight that seared his tunic and left angry red marks on his skin.

He staggered but stayed upright. "You're cowards!" he spat, blood running down his chin.

The tallest fae smirked with cruel satisfaction. "Cowards? We're making sure you understand your place." He raised his hand, fire blooming in his palm like a deadly flower.

The fight turned magical.

Thorns whipped from one fae's wrist, binding Aris's arm and slicing his skin with razor-sharp edges. A bolt of green flame seared past his ear, close enough to singe his hair. He ducked and rolled, his body screaming with bruises and cuts. Desperation gave him strength. He shoved free, slammed his shoulder into another's chest, and threw him down hard against the marble floor.

But they kept coming, elegant and cruel and relentless.

One by one, the blows and spells dragged him lower. He dropped to his knees, vision swimming with dark spots, blood dripping onto the polished marble. His breaths came ragged and painful. He could no longer tell where the bruises ended and the burns began.

"How is he still conscious?" one asked with grudging respect.

The tallest fae stepped forward, fire coiling between his fingers like a spear of concentrated death. "This is the end, human. You don't belong here."

Aris's arms trembled as he tried to push himself up. He thought of Lyra, of Fox, of his master Nebu. Of everything he still hadn't done, all the secrets he hadn't uncovered.

"This can't end like this," he told himself with fierce determination.

And then something lit in his chest like a star being born.

The witness stone throbbed, filling his head with words not his own. Holy Smite. A picture bloomed in his mind: golden fury pouring down like the wrath of the Templars themselves.

At the same time, another instinct rose. His common sense, his desperate fear of dying here in this cold corridor. Holy Defense. A shell of light. Protection. Survival.

Both commands tangled in his mouth as he merged them together in a moment of pure instinct.

The air snapped like reality itself was breaking.

Silence swallowed the corridor as if the world held its breath. Then light detonated from his body - not a beam, not a shield, but a crushing wave of golden force that rolled outward like a collapsing star made manifest.

The fae had no time to scream. They were hurled against walls and floor with bone-crushing force, unconscious before they hit the ground.

The lanterns blew out in the shockwave. Dust rained from the ceiling like snow. Cracks spider-webbed across the marble walls.

And Aris collapsed too, the witness stone's power ripping through him like molten iron, leaving him gasping and broken.

When the hall finally stilled, six bodies lay sprawled in the wreckage. Five fae boys knocked unconscious and bleeding, and one human boy face-down, breath shallow but alive.

No victors. No witnesses. Just silence and the weight of power unleashed without control.