Heir of the Darkgod in the Holy Academy

Chapter 2: The Awakening of the Void Core

"I accept the Throne of Death," Leon whispered, his voice razor-sharp in the deepest recesses of his soul.

The echo of the ancient voice vibrated violently, traveling through every knuckle and sinking deep into his magic core. The old, chain-bound tome resting atop his tattered bag suddenly melted into a dense, pitch-black fog.

The fog surged toward Leon's left chest like cold lightning.

"Aaghh!" Leon gritted his teeth against a stifled groan, digging his fingers into the wet mud.

His left chest throbbed wildly. There, a new magical vortex took shape—a deep purple abyss radiating an endless aura of darkness.

An extraordinary chill rushed through his veins. The searing pain on his back vanished, replaced by a soothing cool that crept rapidly across his skin.

Void Healing—Void Restoration Magic.

The scorched, blistered flesh on his back began knitting back together in seconds. Damaged skin sloughed off, replaced by a pristine, unblemished new layer.

His cracked ribs clicked softly as they realigned with perfect precision. He felt his strength fully restored—making him feel vastly stronger and lighter than ever before.

The dark magic vortex in his left chest spun stably, radiating pure, seemingly boundless energy. Mia, standing trembling beside him, gasped with wide eyes.

"Bro... Brother Leon?" Mia stuttered, her voice shaking violently between terror and disbelief.

The little girl had watched firsthand as thin wisps of black smoke rose from the tears in Leon's clothes, sealing all his severe wounds in mere moments. Leon took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

His irises, which had briefly ignited in deep purple, gradually faded back into their usual dull brown. He turned to Mia with a gentle smile, veiling the intimidating aura that had emanated from his body.

"I'm fine, Mia," Leon soothed, gently patting the little girl's head.

"But... but those bad people burned your back..." Mia sobbed, wiping her tears with her dirty sleeve.

"My light magic managed to protect my back just in time," Leon lied without hesitation.

He deliberately flicked his right hand, summoning a faint yellow glow—the extremely weak light magic of a 1st-Circle mage. Mia rubbed her eyes, naively believing his simple lie.

"Let me take you inside. Mother Maria must be worried," Leon said, helping Mia to her feet.

He guided Mia back toward the back door of the old orphanage at the end of the alley. But as Leon took a step, a subtle tremor rippled through his mind.

A thin thread of shadow extended from the magic core in his chest into the distance. It was anchored directly to the shadow of Valen's boot from when the noble had stomped on his chest minutes prior.

Leon paused at the threshold of the orphanage door, focusing his mind on the shadow thread.

Instantly, voices from hundreds of meters away echoed clearly in his mind, as if he were standing right beside the speakers.

"Young Master Valen, are you sure you want to proceed with this plan?" a guard's voice echoed in Leon's head.

"Of course, you idiot!" Valen snapped in a fierce, hatred-filled voice.

Leon honed his hearing, leaning against the rotten wooden doorframe.

"But if we burn that place down, the Holy Church might suspect something," the guard hesitated.

"That trash brat named Leon saw my face when I beat his sister," Valen growled coldly. "I can't let my reputation at the academy be flawed, no matter how small."

The clinking of glass bottles sounded from the other side of the shadow thread.

"Douse the entire orphanage with this magic fuel tonight," Valen ordered mercilessly. "Burn it all down while they're fast asleep."

"What if someone survives, Young Master?" the guard asked again.

"No one will survive," Valen replied with a cruel laugh. "Just tell the media and the academy that the trash Leon failed to control his own fire magic and burned down the orphanage. Worthless commoners like them are better off as ashes anyway."

The shadow connection broke as Valen's carriage moved further away. Leon's expression turned ice-cold.

The gentle smile he had shown Mia vanished completely. A dense, suffocating killing intent boiled within his chest.

Valen didn't just want to ruin his life; he intended to slaughter the innocent orphans and Mother Maria. Valen had truly dug his own grave.

"Leon? Why are you standing out there?" Mother Maria called from the kitchen, holding a bowl of warm soup.

"It's nothing, Mother," Leon replied, his voice returning to a calm and friendly tone. "I was just enjoying the evening breeze."

He stepped inside, making sure Mia got her food and rested in her room. Leon waited patiently for night to fall.

When the wall clock struck one in the morning, absolute silence enveloped the city. The steady breathing of sleeping orphans echoed through the building.

Leon rose from the edge of his bed without making a sound. He stepped toward the second-floor window and leaped onto the roof without making a single sound.

The cold night wind whipped past his face. Leon stood tall atop the tiled roof, gazing down at the dark street leading to the orphanage.

He raised both hands into the air. His right hand flickered with a faint, fragile glow—his disguise as a useless 1st-Circle mage.

But in his left hand, pitch-black darkness churned wildly. A deep purplish-black void flame danced on his palm without emitting any heat. Instead, it absorbed the surrounding moonlight, creating a chilling vacuum.

"Dual Core..." Leon muttered, clenching both hands shut again.

He concentrated the dark magic from his left chest over his body. The shadows beneath his feet writhed, creeping up to cover his tattered clothes.

Dense threads of shadow wrapped around him, morphing into a long, billowing cloak as dark as a starless night. The shadows crept up his neck and chin, covering his entire face.

The mass of darkness hardened, forming a pitch-black skull mask etched with ancient runes on the brow. Beneath the skull mask, two eyes ignited with an eerie purple flame.

The identity of Leon Vance, the trash mage, was gone. All that remained atop the roof was a living legend awakened from ancient darkness.

Sovereign Erebus.

In the distance, Leon spotted three shadowed figures creeping through the dark alley, carrying torches and canisters of magic fuel. They were Valen's trusted guards, sent to burn down the orphanage.

A cold smile curled beneath Leon's skull mask. He stepped forward onto the empty air at the edge of the roof.

Instead of falling, his body dissolved into the night shadows, darting like a black bolt of lightning toward the arsonists. Leon landed soundlessly on a high wall directly above the three guards.

He flexed his fingers, calling upon the power of Void Necromancy raging within his soul. Erebus stared down at his prey from the dark, whispering in an otherworldly voice that echoed coldly in their ears:

"Welcome to the hunting ground of the God of Death!"