Chapter 66: Dissolution, The Cameras Arrive

Students came out from the tunnels first. They came in small groups, then in large crowds. First-year students helped each other up the stairs, their faces pale and shocked. Older students carried hurt classmates on simple stretchers. Medics from the Academy clinic pushed through the crowd.

They all stopped when they saw the courtyard.

The damage was complete. The training dome was a pile of broken rock. The front of the main building was cracked and burned. The water fountains were filled with grey mud. The green grass was gone, replaced by a swamp of melted rock and crystal pieces.

And in the center of it all, a sixteen-year-old boy in torn clothes stood beside a broken sword, watching the sky where the Rift had been.

Helen Croft walked painfully toward him. Her war-hammer dragged behind her, too heavy to lift. Her rib wound soaked through her bandage with every step. She stopped two meters from Alvian and looked at him with a face he could not read.

"Vance," she said again.

He waited.

"What are you?"

He did not answer. He did not have an answer that would make sense to her. ’I have a cosmic gambling system attached to my soul that lets me multiply EXP by up to ten thousand’ was not something he could say out loud.

"Tired," he said instead. It was the truth.

Darius Magnus came out of the main building’s broken door. His chest bandages were soaked in blood. His hands were burned from using so much fire magic. He had saved many students in the tunnels with his rock walls. He looked like he had been through a war.

He saw Alvian and stopped.

The two boys looked at each other across the ruined courtyard. The camera drones captured the moment from six different angles. The video would be shown on every news channel for the next week.

Darius opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"You saved us," he said. The words came out like they hurt him to say, like every word was a heavy stone he had to drag out of his chest.

Alvian looked at him. The boy who had made fun of his E-Rank Talent at the Awakening Ceremony. The boy who had called him weak. The boy whose father had hired killers to attack him and stole his friends.

"Yeah," Alvian said. He did not add anything else. He did not need to.

Serah came out of the tunnels last.

She was covered in sweat and dust. Her SunFire shield had drained her power to almost nothing. She could barely stand. Her legs shook with every step. But she walked into the courtyard on her own power, her electronic pad held in her shaking hands, still recording information.

She saw Alvian and her face showed five different feelings in three seconds. Relief. Joy. Fear. Confusion. Something else she did not have a name for.

She ran.

Not the careful walk of a scientist. Not the organized step of a researcher. She ran across the ruins of the courtyard, stepping over crystal pieces and walking through grey mud, and stopped three meters from him because her legs stopped working.

She caught herself on a broken stone bench. Her breathing was heavy. Her Essence was at maybe two percent. But she was alive and he was alive and the Rift was closed and the Colossus was dead.

"You closed it," she said. It was not a question.

Alvian nodded.

"How?" She looked at the scattered crystal remains. At the broken sword. At the melting dust covering his skin. "That was a Level 75 Calamity Boss. You’re Level... what, seventy now?"

"Seventy," he confirmed.

"Seventy." She stared at him. "You killed a Level 75 Calamity Boss at Level 70 with a cracked sword and an E-Rank Talent."

"The sword did most of the work," he said.

They both looked at the broken sword on the ground. It was split down the middle. The blue lines were dark. It was completely useless.

"That sword did not do most of the work," Serah said directly.

Alvian’s mouth moved slightly. Almost a smile. Not quite.

The camera drones flew overhead in circles. Their lenses recorded everything. The tired boy. The broken sword. The dead Colossus. The closed Rift. The video was already spreading across every network in Vaeloria.

[DING!]

[ALERT: Network traffic spike detected.]

[Video titled "Ironclad Student Solos Rank 5 Calamity Rift" trending on 11 sites.]

[Host’s name, face, and registered Talent (E-Rank Clearwater) are now public knowledge.]

[The difference between your registered E-Rank and your shown S-Rank abilities is causing big arguments online.]

[One unknown magic analyst has published a research report arguing that Clearwater has been classified wrong for three hundred years.]

[The System thinks this analyst is someone the Host knows personally.]

Alvian looked at Serah. She was looking down at her pad, which was still recording data. Her face was a little red. She was not looking at his eyes.

He said nothing about it.

The next hour went by in a blur. Medics arrived. Guild Guards arrived. Royal Guard vehicles appeared at the Academy edge, smooth armored flying cars carrying the King’s symbol. The courtyard was blocked off. Students were moved to safe areas. Teachers were carried to medical tents.

Alvian sat on a broken stone bench and let the medical team check his body. They could not find anything wrong with him. His VIT 855 had already healed the spatial damage. His HP was full. His Essence was coming back.

"You are completely healthy," the medic said, looking very confused. "You just fought a Calamity Boss and you have no injuries."

"I am hard to kill," Alvian said.

The medic looked at the grey mud covering the courtyard. At the crystal remains of the Colossus. At the melting dust on his skin that was slowly burning through the bench he was sitting on.

"Yes," she said slowly. "I can see that."

His INT 142 thought about everything in the background. The Fate Enforcer timer. The political problems. The King’s reaction. Martha’s illness. The Tears of the Phoenix locked inside a safe that no one could break into.

All of these problems felt heavy in the back of his mind.

But for now, the Rift was closed. The Academy was safe. His friends were alive.

He looked up at the sky. The clouds had fixed themselves over the spot where the Rift had torn reality open. The spatial hum was gone. Everything was quiet.

[Time until Fate Enforcer deployment: 71 hours, 47 minutes.]

[The clock is ticking, Host.]

[The System recommends the Host enjoy this moment of peace while it lasts.]

[It will not last long.]

Alvian closed his eyes. Just for a second. Just to take a breath.

Then he opened them, picked up his broken sword, and started walking toward the Undercity.