Astral villain system: The saint's demonic ascension

CHAPTER SEVEN

Solvyn’s face turned ashen on seeing him. How come he made it out? Even he, an archmage, didn’t have the confidence to enter the forbidden realm and exit unscathed.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Sword light flashed. More students and mages began to land, circling the platform. An old man holding a black staff with a purple orb on top landed just behind Solvyn, a few meters away.

“Archmage Mavis.” The students bowed their heads in acknowledgment, whispers rippling.

More students landed with him, alongside higher-ranking mage professors, their robes snapping in the dead wind.

“What’s going on? Why’s the alarm for the Netherworld Wasteland intensifying?”

Theon’s lips curled slightly in a wicked smirk, his gaze settling on the one who pushed him into the portal like a stomp from Godzilla’s foot.

The young man’s heart skipped multiple beats. His knees turned to jelly, blood pressure spiking until his vision swam. He opened his mouth to scream but couldn’t get out a single sound.

Theon’s stare felt like a powerful storm, swirling and swarming with monsters about to devour him whole. The worst was that he appeared to be the only one seeing the abyss in Theon’s eyes.

A scream finally ripped from his throat. “A ghost!!!”

Theon’s attention moved to the second target. He was trembling all over, hands shaking, legs convulsing. His lips wouldn’t stop quivering, but unlike his other counterpart, he didn’t directly crumble to the ground.

He inhaled sharply, teeth clamping down on his lower lip until blood beaded. He turned to Archmage Solvyn, bringing a trembling arm up to point at Theon. His name was Kane, one of Theon’s chief tormentors. “It’s him. He unsealed the portal and jumped in!”

“That’s impossible.” A female mage interrupted, frowning. “With his weak constitution, he couldn’t have entered there, even if he had a death wish. No one would willingly choose such a gruesome way to die.”

Emboldened by Kane’s words, his other counterparts who were trembling pulled themselves together, finding courage in numbers.

One of Kane’s followers, a girl this time, pointed at Theon. “He must have heard about the legendary treasures hidden in there and decided to try his luck.”

“Desperate trash! If you want to die, go die alone!”

Solvyn’s gaze never left Theon for a moment, watching carefully, as if he wanted to determine if it was him, or someone who wore his likeness to manifest. His eyes narrowed. ‘This can’t be right. Even a celestial would die there. Why did he come back? Could it be that his father did something tricky while placing the seal to protect his future descendants?’

It was Theon, alright. Although something in his stare had changed, it was undoubtedly him. Solvyn was sure of that. The arrogant tilt of his chin that always followed him despite all he did to break the trash. The way he clawed his way up from the sand after rolling out from the portal, standing tall despite a body torn apart by elements. It was undoubtedly him.

His clothes were ripped in multiple places, blood soaking his robe, claw marks visible on his exposed arm. But he was undoubtedly alive despite being a waste still in the Spirit Gathering Realm.

Solvyn sent strands of spiritual energy to probe Theon’s body. Theon almost laughed.

That same invasive spiritual energy going straight towards his head was back. But this time, it wouldn’t find anything, nor could it do any damage.

Theon was wearing a special treasure to hide his current cultivation realm and protect his mind. Even if Solvyn dug around for a year, he would find nothing.

Solvyn’s lips curved slightly, barely noticeable in the dark night lit only by the reflection of flaming torches and crystals carried by the students. He was satisfied. Nothing changed. Everything was intact in the trash’s body. Just a Spirit-Gathering ant playing at destiny.

“Theon Dravorn,” Solvyn’s voice rang out, cold and judicial, echoing across the platform, “you risked the safety of the entire academy and celestial realm just for some fleeting benefits. You opened the portal in search of dark energy and demonic legacies in hopes of advancing your mediocre and talentless body. In your desperation, you almost ruined the lives of millions who would have died if we didn’t notice the portal’s anomaly on time. Theon Dravorn, you rebellious child, do you know your fault?”

Theon tilted his head, blood still dripping from his sleeve onto the dirt. A single drop. Then another. The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring.

He laughed. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t sane. It was the sound of someone who’d walked through hell and found it boring.

“Opened the portal?” Theon looked up at Solvyn, meeting his gaze without flinching. “With what?”

“I don’t even have access to the cheapest, lowest-quality spirit stones. Let alone a void-key. How could I have gotten the token required to breach a forbidden area?”

Theon watched Solvyn’s face darken, something deadly flashing in his eyes. Then he looked at Archmage Mavis. Calculated. Deliberate.

“Child,” Archmage Mavis said softly, his tone measured, eyes sharp with interest. “You have to explain clearly. Entering a forbidden area is no small crime.”

Theon’s lips curved slightly. “I didn’t enter. Someone wanted me dead. Threw me in and left me for a corpse.”

As Theon spoke, his gaze went straight to Solvyn, unwavering, accusatory, and piercing. A spear of intent.

A collective inhale followed. Kane froze, lips turning purple. He truly didn’t expect Theon to really dare to point fingers at his excellency, Archmage Solvyn.

Theon watched the clock turn in Archmage Mavis’s head. He knew Mavis never liked Solvyn. Faction interests always had them secretly at loggerheads. Having him here couldn’t have been more convenient.

Archmage Mavis stabbed his staff into the ground, the purple orb vibrating with fake righteous anger. “Someone dared to kill the son of a martyr. Speak, who was it?”

Theon scoffed in his mind. The person he wanted dead the most was Solvyn. But with his current level of strength and Solvyn’s stellar reputation, bringing him down at the moment was impossible.

Accusing him of murder would be suicidal. The best option was to hit him where it would hurt the most.

Solvyn’s lips turned up smugly on seeing Theon silent, despite his face being cloudy with resentment. He already knew how it would end. Even if Theon knew the truth, would he dare to call him out? He, the master of Nyxar Dominion?

He miscalculated.

Theon’s hand subtly clenched in his sleeves. ‘System. In the newbie welcome bonus pack, I saw a free draw card where I can get the system to give me one item for free. Is it available now?’

‘Definitely,’ the system answered in Theon’s mind, cold, precise, eager and thirsting for blood.

‘Write me a secret order from Solvyn to Kane to kill me. Solvyn’s writing and seal. Make sure it’s brief and believable to strike the nail deeper into the coffin. And most importantly, some parts should be soaked in my blood.’

‘Processing in progress. Done.’

Theon’s stare hardened. All through the period, he never looked away from Solvyn’s. His hand raised slowly, trembling. A performance of fear. Promising ruin.

Solvyn froze, his secret smile dissipating. What was that psychotic trash doing?

Theon’s finger finally settled on Kane, cold and final. “It was him. He pushed me inside the portal with his friends.”

Gbim! Kane’s heart hammered hard against his ribs, palms turning clammy from sweat. Solvyn’s gaze narrowed, shock rippling through him. Kane’s accomplices weren’t spared either. They couldn’t stop trembling.

The consequences of killing a fellow disciple were too severe for anyone to bear. The exception was in mortal combat tournaments. But this was the most despicable method, frowned upon by all.

“Nonsense!” Kane shouted back after struggling to regain use of his voice, but it cracked halfway.

Archmage Mavis’s brows drew together in a furrow, grip tightening on the staff until the wood creaked. The other students and mage professors were whispering vehemently, speculations boiling over. “Are you sure of this?”

Theon forced a hint of tears to his eyes and nodded, expression grave, like sadness swallowed him whole. “I would never accuse anyone lightly. Also…”

He paused, biting his trembling lips, ‘unsure’ of whether to continue or stay silent. His hesitation a weapon.

“Speak!” Archmage Mavis urged him on, voice thunderous now. “Fear not. I’m here. Don’t hold in grievances.”

Theon inhaled deeply, like he was gathering all the courage he could muster. From the grave.

“Also!” His voice boomed, rising to a shout that startled birds from dead trees. “He claimed it was the Celestial Dean who ordered him to kill me!”

The words landed like a heavenly cannon and fell like tribulation thunder. Even the eerie wind synonymous with the Dark Forest stopped blowing, as if it couldn’t believe it either.

Theon didn’t look at Mavis. His eyes never left Solvyn, watching the noose he prepared tighten around the target’s neck. Watched the blood drain from the archmage’s face, watched the mask crack, watched the untouchable god become a cornered rabbit.

Solvyn’s lips parted. No sound came out. For the first time tonight, the man who judged gods was speechless.

Something wicked and filled with schadenfreude flickered in Theon’s stare as he watched Archmage Mavis’s lips lift in wicked satisfaction.

‘Alright. Since the Archmage loves to play games… let’s see how he handles this one.’ His bloodstained fingers tapped his thigh, once. Measured. Patient. ‘Will he save his precious secret son and burn the saintly reputation he’s spent decades polishing? Or will he throw Kane under the bus to save himself?’

Because yes. Kane was Solvyn’s secret illegitimate son, hidden from the world.

And Theon had just fired an arrow that wouldn’t fall without drawing blood.