2026-07-05 03:00:02Kaelen Drago’s grip on Aster’s wrist felt like cold iron fresh from a polar ice bath. The protagonist’s fingers trembled violently—not from weakness, but from the weight of emotions seemingly pent up for centuries.
Aster stared at Kaelen, eyes wide. His heart raced with adrenaline as he scrambled to process this absurd situation. Why did the novel’s protagonist just emerge from the shadows to grab my wrist? Does he know I just embarrassed Valerius? Wait, what did he just say? The World’s Law is going to kill me?
“Let go, Lord Drago,” Aster whispered, trying to pull his hand away without triggering an explosion of mana from Kaelen’s unstable core. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is just an ugly rock that fell from Mr. Clydes’ hand. I was just picking it up so no one would trip over it.”
“Don’t lie to me!” Kaelen’s voice was raspy, his rubyred eyes radiating a terrifying sense of desperation. “I have watched you die one hundred and fortyseven times, Aster! Every time I try to change your fate, this world corrects it in an even crueler way! That rock... it is a causality anchor for Valerius. If you take it tonight, before the time is right, the World’s Law won’t just send a monster to kill you. It will erase your very existence from space and time!”
Aster swallowed hard. His brain spun. One hundred and fortyseven times? A time loop?! Kaelen Drago is a regressor?!
No wonder Kaelen’s gaze in the cafeteria was so full of grief. No wonder he knew about Vespera’s debt. But this realization didn’t change the fact that Aster needed that stone. If he didn’t take it, he would be slaughtered by the Abyss Wave in Chapter 50. Between being erased by the World’s Law now or eaten by a monster later, Aster preferred to try and outsmart the system.
“Lord Drago, I truly appreciate your concern,” Aster said with a forced, polite tone, “but I really need this stone to prop open my dorm door. It’s always creaking.”
Kaelen stared at Aster as if he had just declared an intent to slap the Creator God. “You... you want to use the Earth Dragon’s Heart Scale as a doorstop?! Have you lost your mind?!”
Before Kaelen could continue his protest, the air inside the black market suddenly shifted.
The temperature, previously humid and stuffy, plummeted below freezing. Thick white steam billowed from Aster and Kaelen’s breaths. The chaotic noise of the black market, once filled with laughter and hushed deals, vanished entirely. Aster looked around and found that hundreds of merchants, buyers, and even Valerius—who was still crying on the floor—were frozen in place. Time itself seemed to have stopped.
Only Aster and Kaelen could still move.
Krak... Krekk...
A deafening cracking sound erupted from the black market’s ceiling, which was made of solid granite. Aster looked up, the blood draining from his face.
The cave ceiling was no longer stone. The surface had transformed into a slowspinning, golden geometric vortex. In the center of the vortex, hundreds of lidless “eyes” formed of pure mana light stared directly at Aster. The gaze was emotionless, devoid of anger. It was the look of a programmer staring at a bug or a virus in their source code, ready to hit ‘Delete.’
[Critical Warning: World’s Law has detected HighLevel Fate Theft.]
[Entity ‘Aster Vale’ is attempting to modify the Causality Anchor of Valerius Clydes.]
[Causality Execution Protocol Activated: Erasure Tribulation.]
“I won’t let you die for the 148th time!” Kaelen shouted. Bloodred mana erupted from his body, shattering the timefreeze around him. He drew his greatsword, stepped forward, and stood directly in front of Aster, ready to throw his own body into the World’s Law’s strike to protect the extra.
Aster panicked. This protagonist is going to commit suicide?! If he dies here, who will save the world in Chapter 50?!
Without a second thought, Aster reached into his backpack. He had no weapons. He had no shields. All he had was a pile of junk he’d scavenged that afternoon because he was worried about the underground black market leaking sewage water.
He pulled out a folding umbrella.
Its frame was made of the ribs of a young Wyvern he’d found in the academy’s kitchen trash, and the canopy was stitched together from a patchfilled tarp that had once covered an oxcart. The thing looked pathetic, bent in several places, and smelled faintly fishy.
I just need cover from the falling rocks! Aster thought, pressing the umbrella’s open button.
Kla-klik.
The system in his head shrieked with blinding blue light.
[Item: Wyvern Rib Folding Umbrella (Quality: F)]
[Error: Materials unable to withstand atmospheric pressure.]
[Absolute Compensation Injected.]
[Concept Granted: Absolute Sky Repulsion.]
[Defining ‘Sky’ as: All forms of intervention originating from ‘Above’ (Weather, Sky Magic, Tribulations, and the Gaze of the World’s Law).]
From the golden vortex in the ceiling, a silent, deeppurple pillar of light shot down. It wasn’t ordinary lightning. It was an erasure beam. Wherever the light touched, matter didn’t just break; it ceased to have ever existed.
Kaelen closed his eyes, gripping his sword tightly, ready to feel the agony of his 148th death.
But the destruction never came.
BOOM—Ssssshhhh...
The sound wasn’t an explosion, but a soft hiss, like water hitting a hot pan. Kaelen slowly opened his eyes, and what he saw made his brain, tempered by hundreds of time loops, nearly stop functioning.
The pillar of erasure light struck the canopy of Aster’s junky umbrella. Instead of piercing through and erasing them, the purple light slid off. The concept of “Absolute Sky Repulsion” forced everything descending from above to veer away. The deadly light glided smoothly along the patched tarp, turned ninety degrees, and slammed into the distant main vault of the black market, melting the meterthick steel door into a pool of molten metal in an instant.
Above them, the hundreds of golden eyes of the World’s Law blinked wildly, as if suffering a logic error. How could a causality tribulation be repelled by a fishysmelling umbrella?!
After three seconds that felt like a century, the golden vortex closed with an awkward pop, and the cave ceiling reverted to ordinary granite. Time in the black market resumed, but instant chaos erupted as the merchants realized their main vault had melted away.
Kaelen fell to his knees, his sword slipping from his grasp. He looked at Aster—who was busy dusting off his junky umbrella—with a fanatical gaze that bordered on religious worship.
“You...” Kaelen’s voice trembled, tears involuntarily welling in his eyes. “You just slapped the face of the World’s Law... with an umbrella? You deliberately baited a causality tribulation just to test the durability of your mortalmade artifact?! Master Aster... just how far does your plan to manipulate fate truly go?!”
Aster stared at Kaelen blankly, then looked at his umbrella. Master?! Who are you calling Master?! I was just afraid of getting hit by falling rocks!
“Lord Drago, this black market clearly violates building safety standards. Their ventilation is so poor it’s creating static electricity that almost struck us,” Aster said flatly, hurriedly folding his umbrella and stuffing it back into his bag.
He crouched down and picked up the Cracked Stone lying on the floor. To hide the stone’s aura from the World’s Law—which might still be watching—Aster pulled out a cheap tin lunchbox he’d brought to hold Toby’s leftover bread.
[Item: Tin Lunchbox (Quality: F)]
[Concept Granted: Existential Isolation (Hides contents from the scanning of gods, laws of nature, and landlords).]
Aster dropped the Cracked Stone into the lunchbox, shut it tight, and slid it into his robe pocket. “Let’s go before the black market guards accuse us of melting their vault.”
Aster grabbed Kaelen’s arm—who was still in deep shock—and dragged the protagonist out of the black market’s chaos, heading up the secret stairs toward the surface.
They arrived in the wine cellar. Aster pushed the giant wine barrel that served as the exit, breathing in the fresh night air of the academy city with relief. Finally, I’m safe. I have the stone, and I have the remaining gold.
However, the look of relief on Aster’s face vanished instantly.
In the backyard of the wine cellar, which should have been empty, stood a dozen people in silver robes with the crest of the Royal Magic Tower on their chests. In the center, an old oneeyed man held a magic compass; its needle spun wildly before pointing straight at Aster’s chest.
“Aster Vale,” the oneeyed man said, his voice cold and echoing with the authority of highlevel magic. “In the name of the Magic Tower and the Patriarch of the Clydes family, you are under arrest for the suspected use of prohibitedlevel demonic artifacts, destruction of black market property, and the murder of a nobleman’s character. Surrender, or we will use force.”
Beside Aster, Kaelen slowly rose, his bloodred mana aura beginning to boil and scorch the night air, ready to slaughter anyone standing in his “Master’s” way. Aster, however, quickly held Kaelen’s shoulder, his eyes locked on the Inquisitors while his hand slowly reached into another pocket of his robe, touching a cylindrical object he’d crafted from an empty toothpaste tube.
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Chapter 120: Iced Tea and the Canceled Invasion
White smoke still curled up from Viktor Ironforge's black armor, forming a thin pillar that merged with the storm clouds slowly thinning above the arena. The crown prince of Valdris knelt in the middle of a lava crater that had cooled into rough obsidian. His body trembled violently, not just from the residual electrical shocks still dancing along his nerves, but from the complete collapse of every conviction he had held dear his entire life.Military power? Destroyed by a pair of dull scissors.Combat formations? Severed by empty wind.A family heirloom weapon? Reflected straight back by the breeze of a bamboo fan.Viktor raised his head with great effort. His neck felt stiff, and his vision was blurry from the smoke trapped inside his cracked helmet. Yet his eyes remained locked on a single spot in the VIP stands. The spot where Aster Vale sat relaxed, looking as though he had just finished boring administrative paperwork rather than a life-or-death battle.In a raspy voice from a s
Chapter 119: "It's Really Hot Today, Isn't It?"
The Grand Arena of Aethelgard Academy fell silent, but it was not a peaceful quiet. It was a suffocating stillness filled with black smoke still drifting up from the charred bodies of the Valdris soldiers. Amidst the lava craters and the remnants of melted steel shields, only a single figure remained standing, though his posture was unsteady and covered in electrical burns.Viktor Ironforge.He knelt on the cracked ground, his breathing ragged like a steam engine running out of fuel. His iron helmet was dented in several spots, and through the slit of his visor, a pair of eyes showed no trace of clarity or military strategy. Those eyes were red, wild, and vacant. His mind had collapsed under the weight of an absurd defeat. His comrades were down not because they lost a fair fight, but because of impossible accidents. His spear had been deflected. His lightning storm had reversed direction.To Viktor, this was not a normal defeat. It was a cosmic conspiracy. And his primitive instincts
Chapter 118: Panic of Team Ironforge
Goran's death had not yet been fully processed by the collective consciousness of the crowd when Viktor Ironforge let out a bone-rattling roar of rage. His face, hidden behind his black iron helmet, radiated a dense crimson aura so intense that the surrounding air vibrated. He no longer cared about strategy. He no longer cared about formations. The only thing remaining in his mind was total annihilation."I will burn you all to ashes!" Viktor screamed, his voice echoing like trapped thunder inside a cave.He drove the Ironforge War Spear into the ground with full force. Fissures radiated outward from the point of impact, spreading rapidly across the entire arena floor. From the cracks, glowing red light flared up, illuminating the pale faces of the remaining Valdris soldiers.The sky above the arena turned into a pitch-black canvas. The storm clouds that had been concentrated over a single point expanded to cover the entire stadium roof. Red lightning bolts no longer struck individual
Chapter 117: The Deflected Lightning
The air in the Grand Arena felt so thick it could practically be cut with a knife. The pungent smell of ozone mixed with the scent of melting granite, creating a suffocating, hellish atmosphere. Viktor Ironforge stood at the edge of the fresh lava crater, his breathing heavy and ragged, yet his eyes blazed with a fury never seen before. He could not comprehend what was happening. Every one of his attacks, every single one of his military tactical calculations, kept getting thwarted by absurd, trivial things: wind suddenly shifting direction, ground collapsing for no reason, or blinding sunlight striking at the exact critical moment.To Viktor, this was no longer a battle. It was a cosmic insult."You think you can escape the destiny of Valdris?" Viktor roared, his voice echoing against the stadium walls, which were dead silent with fear. He gripped his Ironforge War Spear with both hands. The tip of the spear was still glowing blood-red, gathering the remaining unused storm energy. Th
Chapter 116: The Gust of Fate
Aster Vale let out a long sigh, a sound resembling steam escaping an old kettle. Sweat still dripped from his chin, falling onto his box of fried rice, which had now turned into a shapeless, sticky clump. He glared at the clumping grains of rice with pure hatred, as if they were personal enemies trying to derail his meal plan."It is so hot," he complained softly, more to himself than to anyone around him.Beside him, Professor Balthazar was still trembling, his eyes glued to the arena where a second blood-red lightning orb was taking shape at the tip of Viktor's spear. The energy was so overwhelming that the fine hairs on Balthazar's arms stood straight up. "Master Aster! That is an apocalypse-level attack! If it hits them, nothing will be left! We must call the guards! We must—""Silence," Aster cut him off without looking over. He raised his right hand, tightly holding the Bamboo Hand Fan he had pulled from his bag. The fan looked pitiful: its frame was cracked, its woven palm leav
Chapter 115: Packed Lunch and Sweltering Heat
Amidst the chaos enveloping the arena—where red lightning still flashed across the black sky, a lava crater hissed on the granite floor, and three Aethelgard students struggled against impending death—the atmosphere in the VIP stands was dominated by a far more trivial yet equally critical issue: culinary quality.Aster Vale sat stiffly in his red velvet chair. On his lap rested a simple teak lunchbox he had brought with him that morning. Inside was his custom-made special fried rice, crafted from premium unsold ingredients left over from the night market, mixed with salted duck egg and slices of dried beef as tough as shoe leather. To Aster, this was not merely food; it was maximum caloric efficiency achieved at minimum production cost.However, his surroundings were conspiring to ruin his meal.The thunderstorm summoned by Viktor's Ironforge War Spear did not only bring the threat of death to the fighters below, but it also drastically altered the entire stadium's microclimate. The
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