Chapter 49: Shadows After the Flame

Words : 1094 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

Chapter 49: Shadows After the Flame The afterparty had ended, but the echoes of celebration still lingered in the halls. Laughter, music, and drunken cheers faded behind me as I walked the cobbled path back toward the dorms. The stars overhead blinked faintly, uninterested in the dramas of humans and monsters alike. My coat hung loose, the collar flipped up to guard against the midnight chill. The student council badge glinted on my chest—ironic, really. Victory felt quiet. Too quiet. Just as I rounded the dormitory garden wall, a silhouette broke from the shadows, waiting near the steps. I didn’t need to see her face to know who it was. "Lucielle," I said flatly. She didn’t flinch. Only looked at me with unreadable eyes. "Now that your friend has won," I continued, "I assume you’re happy. I wonder if you’d be this joyful if it had been me instead of her. If I’d switched places with Layla." My voice was calm, deadpan. "Maybe I’m just not that important." Lucielle’s lips trembled, but her voice came out heavy—honest. "That’s not true," she said. "You were. You are. You will always be the most precious thing in my life. That cannot be changed." I looked away, the hollow ache beneath my chest stretching wide. Her words sounded lovely. They always did. But the weight never matched the tone. "Your actions say otherwise," I said quietly. "And your mouth... it says what’s convenient." She moved forward, but I stepped away. "Well, anyway," I muttered, "I’m getting late." I started to walk past her, then paused. "Oh. One more thing." I turned my head halfway back. "In two days, I’ll be leaving the Academy temporarily. There’s an auction I need to attend. Use student council privileges to approve it. I expect the paperwork signed by tonight." "Ashen, wait—" she reached out. I ignored her and kept walking. The cold night swallowed me whole, and I let it. My thoughts were a thousand miles away—no longer on Lucielle’s tremble, nor on the victory celebrations behind me. The auction would be a game changer. I knew it. I had to rely more and more on my shadows with each passing fight, and my mana pool was... pathetic. It was barely enough to maintain shadow constructs at peak output, let alone summon a phoenix or overwhelm Rin at full strength. If that bird hadn’t weakened Rin... I would’ve lost. Full stop. And Rin had the Holy Sword now—blessed relic of a divine guardian, capable of nullifying corruption and dark enchantments. It was one of the most powerful mythic weapons available. To maintain balance, I needed my own. The Dark Sword of the Demon King’s General. In the future, I remembered, that sword had been picked up by an antagonist—a forgettable villain who rose overnight to rival the protagonist himself. His reign of terror had nearly shattered the kingdom’s capital. But now? That sword hadn’t been recognized for what it was yet. Most would think it cursed, or unusable. I’d use that ignorance. I’d claim it before the story caught up. No more surprises. No more near losses. Rin wouldn’t get another leap ahead—not if I could help it. The next morning arrived with golden light and thin clouds overhead. I walked the wide path toward the Academy gates, clad in the newly issued student council uniform. It was navy with gold trim, a high collar, and an emblem stitched into the right chest. People noticed. They stepped aside. Whispers followed me like shadows. "That’s him... Ashen Crimson." "They say he helped summon the phoenix..." "Didn’t he fight Rin one-on-one?" "I heard he was controlling the battlefield like a tactician from the start..." I didn’t acknowledge them. But inwardly? I smirked. "Brilliant," I murmured under my breath. "Nice going." Inside, I moved through the grand hallway toward the classroom annex. Marble tiles reflected sunlight. Mana lanterns pulsed in rhythm. Students lined up along the corridor, still exhausted from the war—but now with different eyes. Respect. And fear. The classroom doors were open. As I stepped in, the first thing I saw was Headmaster Evelyn. She stood at the lectern, arms folded, her icy silver hair tied in a high braid, and her gaze sharper than any blade I owned. "You’re just barely making it in," she said coolly, voice echoing. I put on a disarming smile and gave a casual bow. "Apologies, ma’am. Some fans wanted my autograph on the way in. Had to sign a few shirts." Scattered laughter erupted. Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "Enough. Go to your seat." I walked to my usual spot and dropped into the chair. Sasha sat beside me. Her expression was... pink. Her fingers nervously fidgeted with the corner of her notebook, and when I turned to greet her— "H-Hey," she said softly. "Hey," I replied without skipping a beat. Behind me, a familiar voice called out. "Yo," said Eren, slapping the back of my chair. "Looks like you’ve become the Academy’s next celebrity. Enjoy the spotlight. I’ll be taking your seat next semester." I turned halfway. "As if I’d let you." Noora’s voice cut between us. "Enough, you two. If you start fighting here, the Headmaster will burn you both to ash. You want to be barbecued? Hm?" I grinned. "Noora, no need to worry about me. I’m her disciple. And a valuable one at that." I shot a glance at Eren. "Maybe worry about your brother." That was a mistake. CRACK! A shock pulsed through my spine like lightning. I nearly leapt out of my chair. "Ghhh—! Tssh! Master?! What the hell was that?!" Evelyn didn’t even look in my direction. "That’s for being cheeky," she said mildly. I slumped forward with a cough. Sasha tried not to laugh. Noora definitely did. I sighed. "I swear she takes joy in tormenting me." "You deserve it," Noora whispered. "Agree," Sasha added under her breath. I leaned back, resting one leg over the other, arms folded. "Whatever. I’ll have my revenge in the next assessment." Eren leaned in from behind. "Careful. That woman will fry you extra crispy next time." I closed my eyes. "I’m already planning the funeral." Class began. But my thoughts were far from the lecture on elemental resonance. I stared out the window. Two days. Just two days. Then the auction. Then the sword. And then, finally, maybe, I’d stop playing catch-up. I’d stop needing others to cover for me. No phoenix. No allies. No hail-mary last moves. Just strength. Real strength. Enough to make sure I never lost again.

Chapter 49: Shadows After the Flame

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