"Raargh!"
A monstrous snarl echoed from the thick smoke Alan had just stepped out of.
This ti, before Francis could even raise his weapon, Alan had already unleashed a blinding arc of light sword magic. The strike sliced cleanly through the smoke—and through the white-robed undead hidden within it, cutting both in half in one fluid motion.
Seeing this, the remaining students of Lioncrest Academy inside the grand hall were utterly shattered in spirit.
Their once-proud vice headmaster, along with the elite white-robed guards—tier-diamond mages, no less—had all perished at the hands of Alan and his companions.
And it hadn't even been a drawn-out battle. No, these were swift, one-sided executions. They never even had a chance to resist.
The disparity in power was so vast it left them breathless with despair. Victory was not just out of reach—it was inconceivable.
Worse still, the sudden intervention of the Church-Royal Coalition, joining Sirius Academy mid-battle, had beco the final nail in the coffin.
Even though none of them wanted to admit it… the truth was clear: Lioncrest Academy had fallen. Its destruction was now a certainty.
Once Alan and his comrades had eliminated the last two undead guardians, the battlefield descended into chaos.
So Lioncrest students, overwheld by fear and unable to bear the looming specter of death, tried to flee. But before they could even reach the gates, bolts of elental energy—fired from unknown directions—pierced their hearts mid-stride, killing them instantly.
Others, clinging to their pride, chose to fight to the bitter end.
The result? They died even more miserably than the rest.
Their limbs and heads were severed in an instant by Alan's blade, leaving only limbless torsos lying in pools of blood—ghastly remnants of what once were proud magi.
In less than three minutes, a force of several hundred had been reduced to fewer than ten.
Alan signaled for his allies and the Coalition troops to stand down. Then he walked toward the cowering survivors, gathering the remnants of the Lioncrest defenders into a single spot.
His gaze was cold as steel.
"Do you want to live—or die?"
The first student he questioned glared at him defiantly, his voice trembling with fury.
"Go to hell, bastard! Just kill already, and spare your humiliating nonsense!"
Alan's expression didn't even twitch.
"You want to die? As you wish."
Swish!
Lun Sancta flashed. In the blink of an eye, another mutilated corpse collapsed onto the blood-soaked floor.
This display broke the last threads of resistance in the remaining survivors. The student had died in front of their eyes—violently, without even a chance to struggle.
The second student Alan turned to was visibly shaking.
"You?"
"I… I…"
He stamred. The pride of being a Lioncrest student clashed with the overwhelming dread of death. It was tearing him apart.
"You can't answer? Then you can die too."
Alan's next strike ca even faster. Another life ended with a flash of holy light.
Then ca the third.
"I don't want to die! Please, don't kill !"
Before Alan's sword could even fully rise, the student collapsed to his knees, sobbing and begging for rcy.
One after another, the remaining students followed suit. Pride no longer mattered. They dropped to their knees, crying and pleading with Alan to spare their lives.
By now, the na Lioncrest Academy was just that—a na. A hollow shell. When Kelin and the last white-robed guards fell, so too did any remaining shred of honor the institution might have had.
To these survivors, survival was worth more than any title or creed.
They would do anything to live. Compared to that, kneeling was nothing.
"Good. Seems you're all reasonable enough. That saves the trouble of making long speeches. Now get out of here—all of you. Drag the bodies of those who died blocking the road and carry them back to our new Sirius Academy."
"Yes, sir. I'll go right away… right now…"
The first student to respond began to rise to his feet, only for Alan to step forward and stomp, shattering the young man's kneecap with a brutal crunch.
He scread in pain, collapsing and writhing on the floor.
The others stared in confusion and horror. Why had Alan suddenly attacked him?
Alan swept his gaze across the group, his voice sharp with irritation.
"Did you forget what I said when I arrived?"
"You are to crawl—on your knees. In this posture. Carry those bodies back to Sirius Academy just like this. If I see anyone stand up, I'll shatter their knees, one by one, and make sure none of you ever walk again."
"W-What?!"
Gasps echoed across the hall.
They had once been the pride of Lioncrest Academy, their heads held high. And now, they were being told to crawl like animals, dragging corpses through the streets under the watchful eyes of the public?
It was humiliation beyond imagination. Far worse than death.
"What's wrong? Not willing?"
"Weren't you just saying you'd do anything to live?"
"Was that a lie? Because if it was… I have to say—I hate liars."
With that, Lun Sancta stabbed downward again with a sickening thunk.
Alan drove the blade into the chest of the first student—piercing him clean through once more. But he didn't kill him outright.
No.
He twisted the blade inside the student's heart, grinding and tearing the tissue as the young man shrieked like a dying animal. The screams echoed through the hall like banshee wails.
The others turned pale. Not one dared breathe.
To imagine their own hearts being shredded from the inside—that thought alone paralyzed them.
"Go!" Alan roared. "Or do I need to break your knees one by one?"
The survivors didn't hesitate anymore.
Like stray dogs, they dropped fully to all fours, crawling out of the great hall. Then, one by one, they slung the corpses of fallen Sirius students over their backs and began crawling—inch by inch—toward the newly rebuilt Sirius Academy.
Alan stood at the gate of the ruined Lioncrest hall, watching their retreating figures with a long exhale.
At last, Gayle's final regret was laid to rest.
This academy, once a giant that had stood tall for centuries, was no more. It would live on only in history.
After a mont of solemn reflection, Alan dusted himself off and turned toward the Church-Royal Coalition.
Before he could take more than a few steps, two figures darted from the Coalition's formation and rushed to either side of him.
It was Daniel and Denken.
They each supported one of Alan's arms, helping him upright.
Alan chuckled softly and waved them off. "Thanks, but I'm fine. Kelin's desperate self-destruction didn't even singe a hair on ."
Then he turned to gaze at the towering remnants of the Lioncrest Hall behind him. His eyes glinted as he addressed the two elder n.
"Now that Lioncrest has fallen, it's a lawless wasteland. All of their potions, equipnt, magical artifacts—they're ours now."
"As thanks for your support, and to keep things fair, I suggest we divide the spoils evenly. Thirty-three percent each. That way, no one feels cheated."
Daniel and Denken exchanged glances, then both broke into laughter.
"You brat. Still worrying about fairness at a ti like this? Screw your noble principles—we old n don't need to be coddled."
"Exactly," Denken added. "You and your Sirius Academy bore the brunt of the burden. You get the lion's share. Forty percent goes to you. The rest, we'll split fifty-fifty. Now that, I'd call fair."
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