The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 94

CLAIRE BLADEHEART'S POV:

Humility. Loyalty. Resoluteness. Courage.

These were the words instilled in me even before I understood what they meant. These were the four qualities that were necessary in order to have a heart as sharp as a sword. This was the creed of the Bladeheart family.

Ignorant as I was as a child, I had truly believed that I would be able to follow this sacred doctrine my family was built upon… no matter what the circumstances.

How truly ignorant I was.

This was the thought that clawed at my mind, making my heart ache as I stood helplessly, watching… simply watching.

Simply watching as Theodore was beaten and burned into an unrecognizable state.

Simply watching as Elijah fearlessly tried to defy, despite being unaided, a figure so powerful I could only submit and hope… hope that I'd somehow make it out alive.

Even with my eyes fixed on the scene, I had trouble registering what exactly was occurring, much less believing it to be real.

What all of the student mages here could not hope to do, what all of the professors here failed to accomplish—Elijah, single-handedly, had achieved.

I had never deemed him as anything more than Arthur's silly friend. He had given me the impression of being easy-going, almost ditzy at times, but not at this moment. After he had cursed aloud at Lucas, his demeanor shifted into someone unrecognizable.

As thoughtless and downright mad as he may have been, that ditzy friend displayed what I couldn't.

As if Elijah's enraged cry had released his soul, Elijah's body seemed almost lifeless as his shoulders slumped and his head hunched forward. I couldn't help but look away when suddenly a blast of black metallic spikes shot out of the ground. I thought Arthur's friend had already died, but I realized it wasn't Draneeve or any of his henchmen that invoked the mysterious spell; it was Elijah that casted it.

The spell he had used then was unusual, almost unnatural, but it was when he placed his palm on the surface of the barrier—when a black flame magic began coiling around his hand, melting the transparent barrier like it was butter—that a cold chill ran down my spine.

Seeing that mysterious magic destroy something so easily when not even the professors combined could scratch it, I felt hope. Maybe he would be able to end this. It was also then, alongside this feeling of hope, I felt an almost tangible contempt for myself.

I looked down to realize my hand had unconsciously gripped the hilt of my sword. I couldn't help but scoff at myself. What use was this sword of mine if fear rendered me unable to even take a step forward?

Looking back up, I fixed my eyes on Elijah. He swayed as he walked, almost staggering like he wasn't really in control of himself. Anyone that tried and opposed him was almost instantly pierced by a black spike. The speed at which each spell was casted shouldn't have been possible. They couldn't even be called spells, but more of an automatic defense mechanism.

I had never heard of something like this before, much less seen it with my own eyes—magic that was so unnatural… sinister... evil.

What confused me, and probably everyone else present, was how Draneeve behaved towards Elijah. Elijah was killing his mana beasts left and right; he had already killed three of his robed underlings. He should've been angry—downright furious at him for opposing his plans, but instead he looked… afraid.

I was only able to make out parts of what Draneeve was saying to Elijah as he frankly ignored the mastermind of this disaster, making his way towards Lucas.

I heard him several times repeating how he didn't know…

I also thought I heard him refer to Elijah as 'sir'... no, that couldn't be right.

After his useless attempts at calming Elijah down, Draneeve started barking out orders to his robed lackeys, telling them to not lay a hand on Elijah. It was a strange sight as our fellow student was trying to kill his allies but the leader was ordering his allies not to fight back.

The other students were baffled at all of this, not quite sure what to make of it; some were voicing their doubts on whether he was actually on our side, perhaps suspecting that Elijah was actually in league with Draneeve. This was until he collapsed on the ground, his final attempt at killing Lucas ultimately unsuccessful.

While at first, we were too shocked by Elijah's sudden outrage and display of cryptic powers to move, some of the professors composed themselves enough to realize that the fracture in the barrier made by Elijah at least gave us a chance to fight back.

This thought had already crossed my mind. I knew that with all of the mana beasts either dead or badly injured and Draneeve partially occupied with Elijah's body, now was the perfect chance to retaliate.

I knew this, yet my feet stayed nailed to the ground beneath me. I knew this, yet I was still afraid…

"Students, clear a way!" An arcane professor led a small group of professors toward the hole in the barrier. The students absentmindedly shuffled out of the way. While many were too discouraged to want to join them on their crusade, the image of Doradrea's decollated head and Theodore's lifeless body burnt in their minds, some students still gathered the courage to try and join them.

Clive was one of them. I spotted him rushing towards the professors, his hands already wielding his bow and arrow but the professor in the back stopped him from going with them.

"Fools," I whispered under my breath. It was still hopeless. Did the professors think that they could now somehow beat Draneeve? They should know better than us. Was it their sense of duty that was driving them to their deaths like this? Or was it their pride preventing them from being rational?

Was being courageous akin to dying a fool's death? Was that what the Bladeheart creed wanted from me?

Kathyln must've heard me. Her red eyes, still quivering, were looking at me, as if I had an answer.

But I didn't. I knew my limits and I knew only a fraction of what my enemies were capable of and even that was enough to rob me of any confidence to unsheathe my sword.

Like from an overused story my mother would always read to me before sending me to bed, the professors marched towards the fracture in the barrier like heroes on an expedition to save the princess from the evil magician.

I could see the arcane professor, whose class I took last semester, in the lead. Behind him was the spell formations professor who taught underclassmen. There was one professor that I couldn't recognize following a few steps behind with a crooked wooden staff. Then joined Professor Glory. She caught my eye and gave me a firm, solemn nod before taking out a second sword from her dimension ring.

The look she gave me then sent chills down my spine. It was a look that I had never actually seen before, but one that my instincts knew—it was the look of someone accepting her death.

The Bladeheart creed clawed its way up into my mind.

Humility. Loyalty. Resoluteness. Courage.

Damn it.

Thinking of this caused a mixture of emotions within me: frustration, for lacking the resolve and loyalty a Bladeheart should display for her academy; shame, for lacking the courage to fight alongside them; and ignorance, for foolishly believing that I had what it took to be a leader of the Disciplinary Committee… to be a Bladeheart.

I shook my head in hopes to clear my dark thoughts.

Living through this would give me another chance to redeem myself, would it not? I couldn't be courageous, loyal, resolute and humble if I was dead.

I turned my attention back to Draneeve, who had kneeled next to Elijah. It looked like he was checking for signs, making sure that Elijah was still alive, carefully, almost tenderly, like a royal attendant would for his king. Our professors, prized mages throughout the entire content, were promptly ignored as he barked out further orders to his robed subordinates to prepare something.

Finally, getting up as he carried Elijah's limp body in his arms, Draneeve began walking towards the back of the stone platform where several robed men were fumbling with what looked like an oddly shaped anvil.

"Lukiyah. Change of plans. You will take care of the ones ignorantly approaching and dispose of these—" he glanced down at the students captured, his eyes stopping at our Student Council President, "— trash."

"I will be heading back first. I expect you to follow us through the gate promptly after," Draneeve continued, the pompous expression he once had nowhere to be seen.

"Why are you bringing that along with us?" Lucas started to say, but his voice ended in a gasp as his eyes bulged out. The arrogance on Lucas' face left him in a second as he crumpled to his knees, sweat dripping down his face.

"You are but a mere tool. You will do as I say, no questions asked, and if you continue to display this sort of ignorance again, there will be consequences." Draneeve's voice was commanding and sharp, different from how it was when he first revealed himself.

Lucas' face struggled to remain firm as he clawed at his heart until Draneeve kicked him, toppling him over on his side.

"Say it!" he growled.

Even from here, I could see Lucas' jaw clenched angrily, but he convulsed and repeated through gritted teeth, "I… am… but… a… mere… tool."

"It is ready, my Lord," one of the robed mages near the anvil announced.

"Hmph." Draneeve proceeded, leaving Lucas heaving, trying to compose himself before getting up.

We all watched as this happened. Even the professors, brave enough to march towards a mage so powerful that he played with a Disciplinary Committee member like he was a ragdoll, were stunned as he crumpled a mage to his knees with just a thought.

Professor Glory was the one to catch on that something was amiss. She pointed towards Draneeve, who was heading towards the anvil that was now glowing, crying out, "We can't let him leave!"

The four professors rushed through the hole in the barrier when a pillar of fire, as thick as one of the support beams in the academy hall's main entrance, shot up in front of them.

Lucas was still recovering, his face still lined with pain as he looked at the four professors. The desperate expression on his face was now gone, though, as he walked confidently towards the professors, conjuring another pillar of flame using his other hand.

By this time, it was already too late. Draneeve and a group of his robed lackeys were now gone, taking Elijah with them, leaving behind a glowing anvil-shaped object.

"Lucas! How dare a student of this academy be involved in such acts of terrorism?" Professor Glory roared as she imbued mana into both of her swords. The rest of the professors also held up their weapons, the arcane professor already muttering a spell.