Kicked Out, I Rose as the Strongest Support

Chapter 4: The Captain's Lie

"Stay hidden in the depths of this cave until I call for you again."

Darian Voss gently withdrew his hand from the armored forehead of the Ancient Drake. The massive dragon exhaled a warm breath, rustling the hem of Darian's ragged cloak, before turning back and stepping into the shadows until its magnificent form vanished down the subterranean corridor.

Darian adjusted the hood of his faded cloth cloak, concealing his face and black hair. Beneath the folds of fabric over his chest, Pippo shifted restlessly.

"Easy, Pippo. We need to move fast," Darian whispered softly, patting the small bundle in his arms.

The little crystal fox nuzzled its snout against Darian's neck, letting out a soft squeak before curling up obediently under his cloak. Darian followed the ancient energy conduit, which led directly to the borders of the metropolis of Aethelgard.

His footsteps were firm, calm, and silent. Darian’s chest felt light and open. The Potential Blooming Circuit inside him operated in flawless harmony, surging with pure Aether energy that kept his stamina at absolute peak.

Gone was the crippling exhaustion that used to torment him whenever he finished channeling support power.

After climbing thousands of steps up a spiraling iron staircase, Darian finally pushed open the heavy metal hatch leading to the outer district's surface. The stench of poison and damp cavern air instantly gave way to the crisp scent of ozone and the roaring wind of the majestic metropolis.

Skyscrapers built from Aether steel towered into the clouds. Golden neon light pulses flowed down the walls of the futuristic buildings, radiating the opulence of the city of Aethelgard that never slept. Hovering vehicles zoomed through the city's skyways in a bustling rush.

Darian stepped out from a narrow alleyway, blending seamlessly into the pedestrian traffic walking along the thick glass sidewalk. He lowered his head slightly. In his mind, he envisioned an emergency unfolding at the Astral Vanguard Academy.

As an elite hero squad, the loss of a member in a toxic dungeon mission should have triggered an emergency rescue team or an official academy investigation. Perhaps a search party had already been dispatched to the Dark Abyss to scour for any sign of him.

Darian pulled his cloak tighter as he walked through the crowded streets toward the Astral District's Main Plaza.

Yet the sight that welcomed him at the central plaza was completely outside his expectations. Thousands of city residents, academy students, and reporters packed the crystal-paved plaza.

The atmosphere wasn't filled with anxiety or panic. Instead, the crowd stood spellbound, gazing up at the sky. In the center of the plaza, a massive holographic projection screen hovered, radiating bright light.

Darian halted in the shadow of a concrete pillar. His gaze drifted up to the giant screen broadcasting a live press conference from the hall of the Astral Vanguard Academy.

Bold, glowing red text spanned across the bottom of the screen:

"EMERGENCY LIVE BROADCAST: CAPTAIN BRAM STERLING BREAKS SILENCE ON FALLEN TEAM SUPPORTER"

A cold chill ran through Darian's chest as the figure on the holographic screen zoomed in.

Bram Sterling stood tall at the center of the press stage. The captain wore spotless, gleaming white Aether armor, radiating the aura of a flawless young hero.

Dozens of floating camera drones orbited Bram, flashing continuously. Beside Bram, the rest of his teammates stood with bowed heads, wearing expressions of fabricated grief.

Bram held an Aether microphone with trembling hands. His handsome face was pale, masked in profound sorrow.

"Today... is the darkest day for our team," Bram's voice echoed through the city speakers, his tone raspy and poetic.

The captain raised his left hand, slowly wiping the corner of his eye with his leather glove. A single tear rolled down his cheek under the harsh camera lights—a masterclass in crocodile tears.

Darian froze where he stood. His jaw clenched tight as a string of brazen lies spilled from Bram's mouth.

"We entered the restricted zone of the Dark Abyss," Bram said during the broadcast, his breathless panting expertly rehearsed.

"I warned Darian Voss repeatedly to stay behind our defensive line..."

Bram shook his head with bitter regret.

"But his greed and recklessness couldn't be stopped. Darian unilaterally broke formation and rushed into the Boss Monster's nest to steal a rare Aether crystal core before the fight was over!"

Shocked whispers immediately broke out among the thousands of spectators in the plaza.

"He ignored my orders," Bram continued, his voice dripping with bitterness.

"His attack enraged the monster. When it launched a counterattack, I threw myself forward to shield him! But... Darian panicked, stumbled backward over the cliff edge, and fell into the toxic abyss!"

Darian felt the blood in his veins boil with rage.

Every single word Bram uttered to the media was the exact opposite of what had happened. It was Bram, reckless and starving for fame, who had almost died to the monster's tail strike.

It was Darian who had leaped forward, sacrificing his own body until his energy circuits shattered to save Bram's life. And it was Bram himself who had stomped on his bloody chest and kicked him down into the toxic pit!

Yet now, before the entire populace of the Metropolis of Aethelgard, Bram disgustingly twisted the truth. He painted himself as a self-sacrificing hero, while framing Darian as a greedy, foolish, ungrateful idiot who died by his own stupidity.

"Unbelievable! Was Darian Voss really that terrible?" a citizen beside Darian exclaimed in anger.

"No wonder! I always suspected that talentless Supporter was just a parasite holding Captain Bram back!" an academy student nearby chimed in.

"Poor Captain Bram... he's actually weeping for a useless teammate like that!"

Cheers of empathy and praise for Bram resonated across the plaza. The crowd cursed Darian Voss's name with pure hatred, completely oblivious that the very man they were vilifying stood right among them.

Darian clenched his fists inside his cloak pockets, his knuckles turning white. His fingernails dug deep into his palms, drawing fresh, warm blood.

The sharp sting in his palms was nothing compared to the sickening heartache tearing through his chest. Two years of loyalty, kindness, and self-sacrifice had been repaid with total character assassination.

Grrrrr...

A low, dangerous growl rumbled from beneath Darian's cloak.

Pippo sensed Darian's agony. Their soul bond was so strong that Darian's pain resonated directly into the crystal fox's soul.

The warm golden glow radiating from Pippo faded. In its place, the crystal on Pippo's forehead flared with a deep, ominous blood-red light.

Its crystal body trembled violently.

Pippo nudged the edge of Darian's cloak aside with its snout, glaring up at the giant screen displaying Bram with round eyes that now burned with furious red light. Its transparent wings unfurled slightly, preparing to unleash a destructive shockwave to shatter the projection screen hanging in midair.

"Hold on, Pippo," Darian whispered in a barely audible tone.

Darian gently stroked Pippo's head with his blood-stained palm. His cool touch slowly soothed the fox's boiling fury. The crimson glow on Pippo's forehead softened back into a calm golden light, though its tiny breaths still let out tense growls.

Darian took a deep breath through his nose. The explosive heartbreak and fury surging in his chest stopped burning wildly. Instead, it condensed, froze, and crystallized into an ice-cold, unshakeable resolve for vengeance.

Putting on a cheap PR stunt for the media wouldn't save Bram from destruction. And Darian had no intention of destroying Bram quietly from the shadows.

He would make his return on the grandest stage of all: the Academy Qualification Tournament.

He would expose every single lie in front of millions of citizens across Aethelgard. He would grind Bram's pride into the dirt, right where the captain felt most untouchable.

Enjoy your grand stage while it lasts, Bram, Darian thought, a cold smirk curling the corner of his lips.

Because when I step onto that stage, I will crush everything you pride yourself on until you beg for mercy at my feet.

On the live broadcast stage, the camera lenses zoomed in tight on Bram Sterling's face. A female reporter stepped forward, thrusting an Aether microphone directly toward the captain.

"Captain Bram! Do you feel no guilt over failing to retrieve Darian Voss's body from the depths of that toxic dungeon?" the reporter pressed.

The broadcast fell dead silent. Bram lowered his head deep, remaining still for a few seconds as if choked with suffocating guilt.

But from Darian's sharp gaze beneath the plaza pillar, one detail escaped the notice of millions of viewers. As Bram slowly raised his head, for a fraction of a second before his eyes flashed with fake sorrow, his lips curled into a cruel, triumphant smirk aimed straight at the camera lens.

A chilling, demonic sneer—mocking Darian's death as a closed case. Then Bram effortlessly put his grief-stricken mask back on, staring straight into the camera lens to deliver his final, innocent-sounding line.

"I tried to save him... but why risk lives for a trash Supporter who was nothing but dead weight to the team?"