2026-07-05 02:54:32The night wind whipped against Aster’s face as he tumbled from the secondstory window. His feet landed hard in the thorny bushes beneath the dormitory, tearing his uniform trousers and scraping his calves. Biting his lip to stifle a cry of pain, he scrambled away from the building.
Behind him, he could hear the heavy footsteps and shouts of the Vespera thugs ransacking his room. Green searchmagic flared against the dormitory walls like the beams of a prison spotlight.
Aster didn’t stop running until he reached the Old Greenhouse behind the Herbology building. The glass structure had been abandoned ever since a professor accidentally grew a giant carnivorous plant that devoured three firstyears five years ago. No one in their right mind would look for Aster here.
He slipped inside through a cracked glass door, hiding behind giant, mosscovered clay pots. The scent of damp soil and rotting leaves filled his nose. Aster leaned his back against the cold glass wall, hugging his backpack—containing the bundle of "FateSevering Nail Clippers"—tightly to his chest.
"A long night," he whispered to himself, staring at the vinecovered glass ceiling. He couldn't sleep. Every rustle of leaves made his heart jump, thinking it was the Vespera thugs coming to collect a debt that no longer existed.
**
Dawn arrived slowly and painfully. Aster awoke from a fitful nap to find his uniform damp with dew and his hair full of unrecognizable pollen. He cleaned himself as best he could with water from an old bucket, then snuck out of the greenhouse.
Today was the third day. The day the cursed cafeteria incident was supposed to happen.
Aster had no intention of going to the cafeteria. He had lied to Toby about a "village tradition fast." However, he needed to ensure the incident actually occurred and that he wasn't there. If the Laws of the World forced the scenario to play out another way, he needed to know the reach of that "fate."
He hid behind a large marble pillar in the corridor connecting the library building to the grand cafeteria. From this vantage point, he could see the entrance clearly without having to step inside.
The clock tower’s silver bell chimed seven times. The cafeteria’s double doors swung open, and students began to trickle in for breakfast. The aroma of dark black coffee and toast wafted out, making Aster’s empty stomach growl in protest.
Then, the temperature around the entrance dropped several degrees.
Kaelen Drago stepped inside.
His silver hair was slightly disheveled, his crimson eyes sharp yet weary, and his shoulders tense as if bearing an invisible weight. But what made Aster hold his breath was the aura surrounding the protagonist. The air around Kaelen’s shoulders distorted slightly, like hot asphalt in the midday sun. Silver cups on nearby tables vibrated faintly as he passed. His mana blast was unstable. Extremely unstable.
Aster swallowed hard. If I were there right now, a single touch would turn me to ash.
A few minutes later, the moment arrived. A thin firstyear student—not Aster, nor the chubby student he remembered from the novel—walked hurriedly, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of black coffee. The student’s foot caught the leg of a chair. His body lurched forward. The tray in his hands flew toward Kaelen’s table.
Aster’s heart stopped.
Kaelen turned. His crimson eyes widened. And Aster could see clearly from thirty meters away that Kaelen’s right hand moved—not to reflexively release a mana blast, but to hold it back. Kaelen’s fingers clenched tight, the veins in his arms bulging, and sweat broke out on his temples. He was fighting his own reflexes.
A thin, transparent mana barrier appeared in the air, deflecting the coffee splash back into the cup. However, a small shockwave still escaped, sending the thin student tumbling to the floor with a bloody nose.
There was no massive explosion. No ashes. Just a bloody nose and a few cracked cups.
Kaelen stood up, his breathing ragged. He stared at his own trembling hands, then at the fallen student. A complex expression flashed across his face—relief, frustration, and... sorrow?
Aster exhaled a long breath. I’m safe. The incident happened, but no one died. Kaelen managed to control it... at least partially.
However, just as Aster prepared to leave his position behind the pillar, something unexpected happened.
Kaelen turned his head. His crimson gaze swept the corridor, passing through the crowd of students, and stopped directly at the pillar where Aster was hiding.
Aster’s breath hitched.
Kaelen was staring at him. From thirty meters away, Aster could see clearly that the protagonist’s eyes held no anger or arrogance. Those eyes held something far more baffling: relief mixed with deep grief, as if Kaelen were looking at a ghost that should have been buried long ago.
Kaelen’s lips moved slowly. Aster, subconsciously focusing his vision, could read them.
"You... are still alive."
Kaelen stepped out of the cafeteria, leaving his breakfast untouched, and walked straight toward Aster. His gait was fast but not aggressive. Every step carried a wildly fluctuating mana aura, making the torches on the corridor walls flicker unsteadily.
Aster froze behind the pillar. His brain spun wildly, searching for an excuse. Why is the novel’s protagonist looking at me like that? Does he know I was in debt to Vespera? Do those thugs work for the Drago family? Is he here to collect my debt?!
Kaelen stopped exactly two meters in front of Aster. A distance far too close for an extra and a protagonist. Aster could see the dark circles under Kaelen’s eyes and a faint burn scar on his neck that was never mentioned in the novel’s description.
"You didn't come to the cafeteria," Kaelen said. His voice was flat, but there was a subtle tremor hidden behind every word.
"I... am fasting, Mr. Drago," Aster replied, his voice sounding calmer than he felt. "It’s a village tradition."
Kaelen stared at him for five seconds that felt like five years. Then, the corner of his lip twitched ever so slightly.
"One hundred and fortyseven," Kaelen muttered, more to himself. "One hundred and fortyseven times I have watched you die on this day. Burned. Crushed. Suffocated. Eaten. Every time, I failed to save you."
Aster stared at him blankly. What is he talking about? Is the protagonist insane? Or is he speaking in metaphors I don’t understand?
"I... am sorry?" Aster offered cautiously, unsure if he should apologize for dying 147 times or for not coming to the cafeteria.
Kaelen looked at Aster with an intense gaze, as if trying to verify that Aster was real and not an illusion. Then, he nodded slowly, once, with terrifying certainty.
"This time is different," Kaelen whispered. "Something has changed. I can feel it."
He turned and walked away, his whiteandgold robe fluttering in the morning breeze. But before he disappeared around the corner, he stopped and looked back.
"Be careful with the Vespera family. They won't stop looking for you just because the contract is severed."
Aster stood rooted to the spot, his hair standing on end. How did he know about Vespera? How did he know my contract was severed?!
In the silence of his mind, the system’s blue screen flickered.
[Chapter 3 Death Scenario: Coffee Spill avoided.]
[Death Flag 1 successfully destroyed.]
[Warning: Entity 'Kaelen Drago' has detected a divergence in Fate.]
[Note: Time variable on Entity Kaelen Drago is unstable. 147 layers of temporal memory detected.]
Aster stared at the notification with a furrowed brow. 147 layers of temporal memory? What does that mean?
Before he could process the information, the system screen flickered again with an urgent bloodred color.
[Warning: Causality Anomaly detected in the Underground Black Market.]
[Item: Cracked Stone (Earth Dragon Heart Scale) will appear in the black market in 36 hours.]
[Entity 'Valerius Clydes' has sent an envoy to purchase the item early.]
[Time remaining for intervention: 35 hours 58 minutes.]
Aster stared at the notification, the blood draining from his face. Valerius sent an envoy early? In the original novel, Valerius went to the black market the night after tomorrow. Why is he moving faster now?!
Is it because I severed the Vespera contract, and the Laws of the World are trying to compensate by accelerating another antagonist's timeline? Aster thought, panicking. If Valerius's envoy buys that stone before I get there, I'm dead!
He had to go to the black market tonight. But he still needed five gold coins. And the only valuable item he possessed was the "FateSevering Nail Clippers" wrapped inside his backpack.
Aster stared at his bag with a look of despair. "It looks like I'm going to be the craziest merchant in the entire Aethelgard black market," he whispered to himself. "Selling rusty torture tools for five gold coins. What could possibly go wrong?"
The system in his head flickered once, as if it were laughing.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 145: Back to the Shop
Nine o'clock at night.The bell above the door of Vale Junk Shop rang. Ting.The sound was small, rusty, and slightly out of tune. But to Aster Vale, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. A sound that meant he was home. A sound that meant the workday was over. And most importantly, a sound that meant it was time to count his money.Aster stepped inside, closed the wooden door with creaking hinges, and locked the double latch. He did not turn on the main light right away. Moonlight filtering through the front window was enough to guide him to the rocking chair behind the counter. The chair creaked in protest as he sank his tired body onto its thin cushion.From inside his woven rattan bag, he pulled out a notebook, a pen, and a broken mechanical calculator with a snapped indicator needle. Then, he began taking out bags of coins.Clink. Clink. Clink.The sound of gold hitting the wooden counter was tonight's symphony. Aster lined up the piles of coins, sorted them by income sour
Chapter 144: Two Different Paths
The corridor connecting Floor One to the surface was still intact. The stone steps creaked under the footsteps of Helena and Kael—two figures who should have never walked side by side. The Grand Inquisitor of the Church of Sacred Light. The General of the Valdris War Faction. Two institutions that had stood on opposite sides for two hundred years.Behind them, four royal knights escorted them. Not escorting them as prisoners. Escorting them as... witnesses. As people who did not know what to do about two individuals who had just stopped being themselves.Sunlight poured in from above. Real sunlight. Not crystal light. Not the glow of moss. Not mirror reflections. Sunlight that was warm, honest, and reflected nothing other than itself.Helena stopped at the dungeon gate.The black stone arch towered before her—ancient symbols eroded by three hundred years, security seals that were now dark, a surface no longer glowing. The gate looked old. Tired. Like someone who had stood for too long
Chapter 143: From Cult to Community
Malachar did not walk like a Grand Priest. There was no cape billowing without wind. No eyes burning with the fire of conviction. No voice sounding like dry bones scraping together inside a cave.He walked like an old man who had just woken up from a forty-year sleep, realizing that all his dreams belonged to someone else.His steps were short. Hesitant. His old shoes touched the mirror floor without confidence—without direction. Where should he go? What should he do? Who was he, if not the Grand Priest of the Abyss Remnant Cult? Who was he, if not a hunter of God? Who was he, if not anything at all?The Cracked Mirror still lay on the floor. Its cracked surface now reflected the ordinary light of the Maze—a light that showed no souls, no truth, nothing other than the surface. But Malachar did not need to look at the mirror anymore. He had already seen it. And what he saw was still burning behind his eyes.A former bishop. Alone. Fired. Without friends. Talking to walls.Not a Grand P
Chapter 142: Toby, the Unwanted "Prophet"
He found a gap between two cracked mirrors—a narrow two-meter space hidden behind the reflection of light. There, far from the battle, far from the screams, far from poison daggers, mana nets, and giant fists slamming into the floor, Toby did the only thing he could do while the world was collapsing around him.He cooked.The Kerosene Stove burned with a small blue flame. Its bent chimney puffed out thin steam that smelled like chicken broth mixed with damp moss and a hint of ozone from the dungeon air. Inside the dented pot he brought from the shop, dungeon water boiled—water he scraped from the leaks along the Maze walls, water no sane person with an appetite would ever drink.Toby stirred the soup with a wooden spoon he had chewed on in three places. A greasy apron was tied around his neck—an apron he found in a supply sack when they first entered the dungeon. It was way too big for him, but enough to keep his fur safe from splatters.This was not the thick, black, asphalt-smelling
Chapter 141: Aster Faces the Three Leaders
Reinforcements arrived in four minutes and thirty seconds.A platoon of Aethelgard royal knights—forty men in silver armor with golden lion crests on their chests—entered Floor Four in a two-column formation. Their captain, a woman with a scar on her temple and eyes that had seen too much to ever be shocked by anything, swept her gaze across the Maze.And even she stopped.Twenty Valdris shadow soldiers sat on the floor. Weapons lay beside them. Masks unfastened. Empty eyes. Not fighting back. No need to bind them—they weren't even trying to stand up.Twelve cult followers knelt on the other side of the Maze. Their red eyes blinked with a confusion never before seen on the face of any cultist. Some were crying. Some were staring at their own hands. Some just stayed quiet.Kael's five guards lay near the shattered mirror wall. Unmoving. Breathing, but unmoving.And in the middle of it all, three people sat in front of a small cracked mirror. Crying.The platoon captain swallowed hard.
Chapter 140: The Last Line of Defense
The effect of the Rusty Shop Bell pulled everyone to a single point. The effect of the Dusting Broom erased intent from everyone within a ten-meter radius. But not everyone was within that radius. And not all intent could be erased.Kael's five personal guards stood at the edge of the Maze. They felt the pull of the bell. They felt the broom's erasing effect. But they were veterans of three border campaigns—their souls had been forged too hard, too many times, for the outer layer of their intent to be wiped away by a single sweep of a broom.And four of Malachar's followers—four of the twelve who had been brainwashed too deeply, for too long, for the chains on their souls to be loosened by a single wave of cleansing—stood up. Their red eyes glowed. Ritual knives were drawn.Nine figures moved. Not toward the mirror. Not toward the three crying leaders. Toward Aster.Toward the old man crouching on the moss, his back to the world, pressing the buttons of a broken calculator.Kaelen mov
You may also like
Changing Life With Instant Wealth System
Dee Hwang 24.9K viewsEasySync System: Amazing Wealth
Baby Bunny29.1K viewsThe Charismatic Steve With System
Jusuf Morris 29.2K viewsFrom A Useless Cripple To An Almighty Boss
Sweet savage41.9K viewsBelittle Me Now And Cry Later
DiamondWrite 443 viewsThe Fruit of Unpredictable Divinity
Khayra Pena141 viewsI Awakened the World's Worst Class, Then Became Unstoppable
Landing Vale747 viewsTHE UNKNOWN FRONTIER
Djienaba Wone 231 views