Kicked Out, I Rose as the Strongest Support

Chapter 5: Traces in the Ashes

The low hum of the hovering helicopter in the night sky above Metropolis Aethelgard faded into the pitch-black darkness.

Darian Voss stepped deeper into the shadows of the artificial pine trees fencing off the back area of the Astral Vanguard Academy. The faded hooded cloak he wore fluttered softly in the bone-chilling night wind.

Beneath the folds of fabric over Darian’s chest, Pippo poked its tiny nose out, exhaling a breath as soft as silk. Darian gently stroked the crystal fox's back to soothe it.

"Almost there, Pippo. We just need to grab what's left of my things," Darian whispered in a barely audible breath.

As the team's former chief strategist, Darian knew every corner and blind spot of the hostel complex's surveillance cameras by heart. He slipped through the narrow gap between two old buildings, bypassing the night guards' patrols with eerie composure.

His body felt weightless. The dual circuits in his chest constantly flushed a soothing warmth through him, making his reflexes and footing far more precise than ever before.

Darian scaled the iron drainpipe on the side of the building without making a single vibration. Within seconds, he stood tall on the third-floor window ledge.

It was the window to his dormitory room—Room 304—the place that had served as his sole refuge in this cruel world for the past two years. Darian touched the wooden window frame.

The lock was already broken. Darian narrowed his eyes, a grim foreboding spiking through his gut. He pushed the window sash open slowly and stepped into the pitch-black room.

The smell of dust, scorched wood, and a pungent acidic stench immediately assaulted his senses.

"What happened here?" Darian muttered, his voice trembling slightly.

Pippo leaped out from beneath Darian's cloak, landing gracefully on his shoulder while casting a soft blue glow from its forehead crystal. The gentle light illuminated the small room.

And the sight unfolding before Darian's eyes instantly caught his breath in his throat.

His dorm room had been completely destroyed. The mattress he rested on was shredded to ribbons, scattering foam and feathers across the floor. His wooden bookshelf was split clean in two.

Hundreds of notes, energy circuit diagrams, and textbooks he had meticulously organized over the years now lay in ruined scraps. Even the wardrobe where he kept his personal belongings had been pried open by force, its hinges snapped off.

Darian stepped slowly through the wreckage of his own home. Every step produced the crunch of shredded paper and shattered glass beneath his boots. He knelt beside the desk where he used to spend long nights devising team strategies.

The iron box where he kept his hard-earned energy crystal savings from two years of labor was completely empty. His academy savings access card was gone.

Even his trophy for Best Support Strategist, an award earned through blood and tears, had been smashed into flat metal scraps.

Not a single item of value remained. Everything had been ruthlessly ransacked. Darian gripped the splintered edge of the desk, a suffocating wave of emotion burning through his chest.

This wasn't a mere robbery. This was an attempt to erase every trace of his existence from the world.

Suddenly, Darian’s eyes caught sight of a thick piece of paper pinned to the wooden desk surface with a rusted dagger. Darian pulled the dagger free, lifting the sheet stained with coarse black ink.

Written across the paper was a crude insult scrawled in massive letters:

"TRASH BELONGINGS FOR A DEAD TRASH PIECE."

In the bottom corner of the paper was the official seal of the logistics division of Bram Sterling's team:

"Seizure and Asset Distribution of Deceased Member."

Darian crumpled the paper into a ball, crushing it inside his fist.

"Asset distribution of the deceased..." Darian whispered, his voice so cold it could freeze the air around him.

Darian's blood boiled with absolute fury. The sting of betrayal at the bottom of the toxic abyss clawed at his heart once more.

Bram and his lackeys hadn't just thrown him into the pit of death. They couldn't even wait to loot every remnant of his life the moment news of his death aired!

They took his savings, destroyed his achievements, and dragged his name through the mud as if Darian Voss had never meant a thing. Darian clutched his chest, suffocating under the agonizing grip of emotion tearing at his soul.

His knuckles turned stark white. He clenched his fist so hard that the cuts on his palm split open again, trickling warm blood down his fingers.

Darian closed his eyes tight. An overwhelming emptiness and destruction dragged his spirit to the absolute bottom. His entire past, every memory of his struggle at this academy, had been trampled into nothingness.

"Yip... yip..."

A soft, gentle bark broke the silence of the ruined room. Pippo rubbed its cheek against Darian's neck with profound warmth. The tiny crystal fox licked the blood trickling from Darian's palm, trying to channel comfort through their mental bond.

Darian opened his eyes, gazing down at the tiny creature that had never abandoned him.

"I'm fine, Pippo," Darian said with a bitter smile.

Yet Pippo didn't stop there. The fox's crystal ears perked up instantly. Its forehead crystal vibrated softly, emitting a rhythmic pulse of golden-blue light that beat in perfect harmony with Darian's heart.

Pippo leaped from Darian's shoulder, landing nimbly atop a pile of shattered wooden planks. The little fox darted toward the darkest corner of the room, right beneath the remains of the shredded wardrobe.

"Yip! Yip!"

Pippo began frantically scratching at the old wooden floorboards in the corner. Darian narrowed his eyes, watching the crystal fox's antics closely.

"Pippo? What is it?" Darian asked, bewildered.

Pippo didn't answer, instead scratching harder at the gaps in the floorboards with its tiny front paws. The crystal on Pippo's forehead projected a beam of golden light that landed squarely on a loose wooden plank.

Darian walked over and knelt beside the little fox. Curiosity began to push aside the grief weighing down his chest. He inspected the old wooden floorboard Pippo was pointing at.

It was the most hidden corner of the room, one that had been concealed beneath the heavy dormitory wardrobe for years. Darian touched the edge of the plank. Infusing his fingers with the newly awakened Aether energy surging through his body, he pried the old floorboard open without any effort.

Creak!

The plank lifted, revealing a dusty secret compartment beneath the floor. Lying inside the narrow space was an ancient metal box, black and silver in color.

Darian’s eyes widened at the sight of the intricate engravings on the metal surface. They were rare Aether circuit patterns he recognized instantly.

His parents' heirloom box.

Five years ago, before his parents vanished without a trace during a dimensional gate exploration mission, they had left this metal box to him. They told him it contained their family's greatest secret.

Yet for five consecutive years, Darian had never managed to open it. The circuit lock system on the box required an extraordinarily vast and pure supply of Aether energy to trigger.

Darian's former weak Support circuit had lacked the power to activate the locking mechanism. Darian gently lifted the ancient metal box from the hidden compartment.

It felt heavy and cold in his hands. Pippo fluttered its transparent wings happily, spinning in midair before landing right on the metal lid.

"Is this why you brought me here, Pippo?" Darian whispered in awe.

Pippo let out a soft bark and pressed its crystal forehead against the circuit engravings on the lid.

BZZZZZT!

Instantly, the bleeding wound on Darian's palm brushed against the center gem engraving. A drop of Darian's fresh blood landed on it, absorbed completely into the golden lines.

Ping!

The ancient metal box vibrated violently in Darian's arms. The dusty circuit patterns across its surface flared to life one by one, triggered by the fusion of Darian's blood, the flow of the Potential Blooming Circuit, and Pippo's crystal resonance.

A warm, golden light spilled from within the box, driving away the darkness of the ruined dorm room.

Click! Snap! Clack!

Mechanical gears whirred loudly inside the metal casing.

A second later, the iron lock shaped like a dragon's head on the front released automatically. The ancient lid lifted slowly.

Darian held his breath. Lying inside the box was a thick, old leather-bound journal with faded gold lettering etched across its cover. Beside the journal, an Aether recording crystal floated softly into the air.

Pippo radiated a golden-blue glow, pulsing in flawless synchronization with the recording crystal.

Szzzt!

A soft hiss of energy echoed through the room. The recording crystal projected a gentle beam of light, shaping the silhouettes of two warm figures in the air. The long-lost echo of magical voices—the combined voices of his father and mother—whispered softly, echoing with crystal clarity directly into Darian's mind and soul:

"Darian, my son... if you are listening to this recording, it means you have been betrayed by the world, and your true circuit has finally awakened."