Aether Chronicles: Birth Of A Legend-Chapter 159: More Monster-Like

With a flicker of Aether, Raegar summoned his dagger into his trembling hand. The assassin scrambled to react, but he was a force of nature, unstoppable in his final act as he had to protect his family, the one who loved and cherished him, alongside Yuki. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Using the last shred of his strength, he drove the dagger upward, the blade piercing through the enemy's jaw with a sickening crunch. The tip punched through bone and brain, snuffing out his life in an instant.

Raegar watched as the enemy's body went rigid, then collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, blood pooling beneath him on the ravaged earth. He stood over his fallen foe, swaying, his chest heaving as the garden's alarms wailed on.

The dagger slipped from his grasp, and he sank to his knees, the poison and blood loss dragging him toward oblivion. Yet, in that fleeting moment, a flicker of triumph burned in his remaining eye; he had defied death, if only for now.

He looked up just in time to see the assassins break and people rushing over to him, but the damage was too much, his body started to shake, thanks to everything. His world went black as his face slammed into the scorched ground.

The professor and headmistress burst into the garden, their faces paling as they laid eyes pm his broken form kneeling amidst the carnage. Horror seized them, their breaths catching at the sheer extent of his injuries.

His right arm was a mangled ruin, muscles torn apart, jagged shards of bone protruding through shredded skin, glistening with blood in the flickering crimson light of the alarms that was turned off seconds later.

Raegar's body was a canvas of brutal violence, countless slashes and gashes crisscrossing his flesh, each cut weeping crimson. Worst of all, the hollow socket where his right eye once sat stared blankly, a gruesome testament to the battle's toll.

The headmistress clutched her chest, her voice trembling. ''By the Aether… how is he still alive?''

Professor Riverhold, his usual stoicism shattered, shook his head grimly. ''That eye… the arm… these wounds will scar more than his body. His growth as a mage could be crippled.''

Their eyes traced the devastation, Raegar's blood-soaked frame, the fallen Tier Nine assassin, the garden reduced to a battlefield of shattered stone and scorched earth. The weight of his survival and the cost it carried hung heavy in the air as they rushed to his side.

''Get him to the nurse's office now!'' Professor Morris appeared out of nowhere with a panicked look on her face.

The blonde scooped him up before sprinting toward the Head Nurse, who was rushing toward them. When the fox woman saw his weathered frame, her amber eyes widened in shock.

''Follow me and don't fall behind, Valentina!'' Aiko exclaimed.

The two sprinted toward the hospital wing of the school, and they worked to save Raegar's life. The fox burned away the poison and healed what she could, but the damage was too great.

When they finished, the headmistress and his friends appeared outside the office, prompting her to go outside. Aiko's voice was steady but heavy with the weight of her words.

''I saved his arm,'' she began, her gaze meeting each of theirs. ''But his right eye… It's gone. Ninety percent of his body is scarred, deep, brutal marks that will affect him physically and mentally. His path as a mage and person will be harder now.''

She paused, her gaze softening with a plea. ''He'll need you all to be there for him, more than ever.''

Everyone exchanged determined nods to help with his recovery. They spent their free time helping Nurse Kitsunia. Time blurred into an indeterminate haze, moments stretching into hours or perhaps days, lost in the quiet tension of waiting.

When Raegar finally stirred, a sharp surge of pain tore through his body, wrenching an involuntary yelp from his lips. His vision swam as he tried to anchor himself in the moment, the intensity of the agony nearly overwhelming.

Grimacing, he clenched his teeth against the waves of torment, each pulse a reminder of his weakened state. As his senses sharpened, he realized the nurse's room was cloaked in darkness, save for the soft, silvery glow of moonlight streaming through a high window.

He glanced up, only to see the moon hanging high in the night sky, casting faint shadows across the sterile walls and beds. No one was there as it was empty and creepy to him, as it seemed like the darkness was moving.

Raegar glanced around while muttering. ''Damn school is too big.''

The stillness of the room, coupled with the late hour, amplified the weight of his solitude, the quiet broken only by the faint throb of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He slid his legs off the bed, only to stop.

As his gaze drifted downward, a sickening jolt of horror gripped him. His skin, once unblemished, was now a canvas of countless scars, jagged, raised lines crisscrossing his body in a brutal tapestry of pain.

Each mark told a story of trauma endured during his fight with the Tier Nine Assassin, their raw, uneven edges glinting faintly in the moonlight. He recoiled at the sight, a visceral cringe seizing him as revulsion and grief collided within.

The scars were not just physical; they felt like a betrayal of the person he once was, a permanent reminder of the ordeal that had reshaped him. 'Damn I look more like a monster but why does my sight seem strange?' he internally mused.

When he realised his right eye had popped due to the power overload, this was too much for his body. ''Fuck! Using Overdrive damaged me even more.''

His breath hitched, caught between anguish and disbelief, he struggled to reconcile with the stranger his body had become. He glanced around only to see a large mirror on the opposite wall.

''Let's check out the damage,'' he muttered. ''I bet it's bad.''

With a heart pounding like a war drum, Raegar summoned every ounce of his faltering strength and slid off the bed, his legs trembling beneath him like fragile saplings in a storm as they shook.

Each step was a defiant act of will, his weakened muscles protesting as he staggered toward the mirror. But his body betrayed him, chunks of flesh carved from his legs sent him lurching forward, crashing to his knees.

Pain flared, yet he clawed his way back up. When he finally stood before the mirror, the sight that met him was a dagger to his soul. A bloodied bandage shrouded one eye, a cruel veil over half his vision, and his reflection revealed a warrior ravaged by fate.

His body bore scars far worse than he'd dared imagine, deep, gnarled wounds etched into his flesh like the runes of some cursed saga. Raegar glanced at his right arm, which hung mangled, its sinew and bone contorted into a parody of its former glory.

Yet, miraculously, it responded to his will, flexing with a stubborn resilience. Anger welled in his uncovered eye, not from pain but from the heartbreaking weight of what he'd become thanks to the assassins.

He mumbled in frustration. ''I've become even more monster-like.''

Just then, a cold aura descended on the room, prompting him to turn around. Raegar spotted the headmistress standing there with a pity-filled expression. He equipped the Death Rose Armor and put the mask back on.

''Evening, headmistress,'' he greeted the older woman. ''Thank you for helping me.''

Corrine smiled before questioning. ''Do you have any idea who attacked you?''

''Nobles or the Keepers of the Blood,'' Raegar instantly answered while slumping into the nearby chair. ''Or some other cult that hates me. I must admit they were smart and did their research because one of them nullified my spells.''

The headmistress was about to speak, but he continued. ''I'm going to rest in my dorm, I want to get some fresh air.''

Following that, Raegar hobbled out of the nurse's office, leaving the older woman behind as he wanted to be alone. While walking through the corridors, he summoned his daggers, which appeared in his hands.

'Looks like they were lost in the fight, but at least I can find them,' he thought, smiling.

Afterward, Raegar continued walking back to the Western Tower, and after half an hour, he appeared at the entrance with a bottle of sake in his hand. He was drinking to numb the constant pain that plagued his body.

Ten minutes later, he snuck into his room, avoiding the professors roaming the corridors. Once inside, he dragged a soft chair toward the window and slumped down while drinking the sake.

Raegar exhaled a shuddering sigh of relief as the fiery burn of alcohol coursed through his veins, dulling the waves of pain that surged with every movement. It was a fleeting mercy, numbing the agony that gnawed at his scarred, broken body.

He sank deeper into the plush embrace of the cushions, their softness cradling his frame, easing the strain. Each breath felt like a small victory, a quiet defiance against the torment that sought to claim him.