Chapter 96: The Ash of Victory

Words : 1174 Updated : Sep 23rd, 2025

Chapter 96: The Ash of Victory My return to consciousness was slow, a gradual ascent from a deep, dark well of oblivion. I was aware of hushed voices that felt miles away, the gentle crackle of a nearby fire, and the rhythmic, hollow drip of water somewhere in the darkness. When I finally managed to pry my heavy eyelids open, the world was a blurry, unfocused smear of shadow and flickering orange light. I was no longer in the scorched, bloody clearing. I was in a small, dry cave, a makeshift camp that my team must have established in the aftermath of the battle. A warm, heavy woolen blanket was draped over me, and the searing, white-hot pain in my shoulder had been reduced to a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed in time with my own weak heartbeat. Cecilia was sitting by the fire, her back to me, her shoulders slumped with a weariness that went far beyond simple physical exhaustion. The others were asleep, their own battered bodies scattered around the small cavern, a testament to the brutal, near-fatal efficiency of the Chimera. I tried to sit up, a low groan escaping my lips as a fresh wave of pain shot through my shoulder. Cecilia turned at the sound, her ice-blue eyes widening in surprise. "You’re awake," she said, her voice a low, quiet murmur, almost lost in the crackle of the flames. "Thanks to you," I rasped, my own voice a rough, unfamiliar thing that scraped against my throat. "Your healing spell... it must have bought me enough time." "It slowed the venom," she corrected, her gaze dropping back to the fire. "But it didn’t stop it. Liora and Nyx... they worked together. A combination of holy light and void magic. They managed to purge the worst of it from your system while you were unconscious." I blinked, genuinely surprised. "Liora and Nyx? Working together? I thought they’d rather kill each other." "Desperate times," she said, a faint, humorless smile touching her lips. "It seems nearly dying together is a powerful bonding experience." A comfortable, if heavy, silence settled between us, broken only by the crackle and pop of the fire. The shared trauma of the battle had forged a strange, new bond between us, a fragile truce in our own, private war. We had seen each other at our most vulnerable, our most desperate, and we had survived. And in that quiet, intimate space, my thoughts, free from the immediate threat of death, drifted not to my new powers, not to the victory, but to her. To the promise I had made, the one that had become a silent, unspoken chain between us. "You haven’t spoken about your mother’s killer," I said, my voice a low, gentle probe in the darkness. "Not since before we came here. After the Student Council War, you were so desperate for answers. You asked me again and again." She flinched, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, her shoulders tensing for a fraction of a second. "You said," her voice was a quiet whisper, "that when the time comes, you will tell me." "And you trust me that much?" I asked, a note of genuine curiosity in my voice. "To just... wait?" "If you are hiding the truth from me," she said, her gaze still fixed on the dancing flames, "then there must be a reason. A reason you believe is more important than my own need for vengeance." "Yeah," I said, my own voice a low, regretful murmur. "You’re right. There is." She looked at me then, her icy, beautiful eyes searching mine, and in their depths, I saw a flicker of the old, desperate fire, the one that had driven her to seek me out in the first place. She froze, her body going rigid, her hand instinctively moving to where the hilt of her rapier would be. "If I tell you the truth now," I said, my voice a quiet, painful whisper, "you will fight for it. Your rage, your grief, it will take over you. And, ultimately, you will die." "I am not a fool," she hissed, her voice a low, dangerous thing. "I can take care of my own affairs." I knew she was powerful, a prodigy of ice and steel. But she didn’t have the allies, the resources, the sheer, ruthless cunning to go up against the shadowy figures who had orchestrated her mother’s death. In the future I remembered, the one I was so desperately trying to rewrite, when she finally learned the truth, she was blinded by her rage. She fell into a trap, a beautiful, deadly snare laid by her enemies. And Rin, the hero, the protagonist, had come to save her. But that was in another lifetime. Now, in this new, twisted timeline of my own making, Rin was no longer her savior. He was just a boy, powerful but naive, and his path was no longer intertwined with hers. My interference had saved her from one fate, but it had also left her vulnerable to another. Shit, I thought, a wave of cold, helpless frustration washing over me. What in the hells is this situation I’ve created? "Tell me, Ashen," she whispered, her voice a desperate, pleading thing that broke through my own chaotic thoughts. "Who was it?" "It’s too early, Cecilia," I said, my own voice a low, firm murmur, my gaze unwavering. "I won’t risk your life. You are... you are too precious to me. I won’t let you die so foolishly." She flushed, a faint, beautiful blush that was a stark contrast to her usual icy composure. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her own mind a chaotic battlefield of conflicting emotions. I hadn’t lied. She was precious to me. She was a powerful, intelligent, and now, surprisingly loyal pawn in my long, bloody game. She was very important for the future, for the future of this world, and for my own future as well. I couldn’t afford to lose her. "I can’t help you get your revenge right now," I said, my voice softening, a calculated but not entirely insincere gesture. "But in the future, when the time is right, I will be there with you. I will help you get the justice you deserve." She looked up at me then, a new, unwavering resolve in her ice-blue eyes. "You promise?" "I promise," I said, my own voice a quiet, unbreakable vow. We sat in a comfortable silence for a long, long time after that, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the gentle, rhythmic breathing of our sleeping teammates. The unspoken words, the shared secrets, the fragile, dangerous alliance we had just forged, hung in the air between us, a tangible, living thing. And as the first, faint rays of dawn began to pierce through the darkness of the forest, we began our long, slow journey back to the Academy. The mission was over. The quest was complete. But the real war, I knew, was only just beginning.

Chapter 96: The Ash of Victory

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