2026-07-05 03:01:31"Give it up, Aster Vale. Or we’ll have to use force."
The oneeyed Inquisitor’s voice echoed through the narrow alley behind the winery, carrying an air of authority that made the atmosphere stifling. Behind him, twelve silverrobed mages simultaneously slammed their staffs into the ground. A dome of silvery light—a HighLevel Mana Suppression Formation—encased Aster and Kaelen. The air inside the dome grew thick as sludge, forcing anyone with mana in their veins to their knees.
Beside Aster, Kaelen Drago did not kneel.
The protagonist’s crimson eyes burned bright in the darkness, radiating a bloodred aura that seethed and growled like a cornered beast. Hot steam rose from his shoulders, melting the night dew clinging to his cloak. Kaelen was ready to detonate his core—a suicidal act that would level half the district and kill the Inquisitors, but would also trigger a fatal backlash on his own body and invite the wrath of the World Laws.
"Master Drago, please, don't," Aster held Kaelen’s shoulder with one hand. His voice sounded remarkably calm, even as his heart hammered against his ribs like a sledgehammer. If you detonate here, we’re both dead! And if you die, who’s going to save the world from the Abyss Tide?!
Kaelen turned, staring at Aster’s hand resting on his shoulder. In Kaelen’s mind, shattered and reassembled by one hundred and fortyseven time loops, this simple gesture held profound meaning. Master Aster... is holding me back. He doesn't want my hands stained by the blood of these Clydes family lapdogs. He wants to handle it himself as part of testing my patience!
"Very well, Master. I will stand down," Kaelen whispered, his bloodred aura slowly fading, though his eyes remained fixed on the Inquisitors with intense killing intent.
The oneeyed Inquisitor—Vance—frowned, slightly surprised to see Kaelen Drago, the academy’s monster, obeying a scholarship student who didn't even possess a magical aura. But the arrogance of the Magic Tower quickly swallowed his suspicion.
"Hand over that cracked stone and the mindaltering artifact you used at the black market," Vance commanded, raising his lightningruneetched staff. "The Clydes family has accused you of allying with a dark cult. The Magic Tower is merely performing a purge."
Aster let out a soft sigh. A purge? You call extortion and robbery a purge?
Aster’s hand reached into his wide cloak pocket, touching the small cylindrical object he had fashioned that afternoon. His original intention was simple: he had run out of toothpaste in the dorms, and being too lazy to go to the store, he had recycled an old, flattened toothpaste tube, filling it with a mixture of powdered lime and wild mint from the backyard.
He pulled the object out. A dented aluminum toothpaste tube, the paint peeling, its plastic cap cracked.
Vance stared at the item in Aster’s hand, then laughed dismissively. "What is that? A miniature alchemy bomb? Do you think you can threaten the Magic Tower with trash?"
"It’s not trash, Inquisitor Vance," Aster said in a flat tone, looking straight into the man's single eye. "It’s a cleaning tool. And it seems you all have quite a lot of... grime attached to you."
Aster twisted the cracked cap and aimed the nozzle at the silver dome and the Inquisitors. He pressed his thumb against the dented aluminum belly of the tube.
Pshhhht.
The system in his head shrieked with a blinding mintgreen light.
[Item: Recycled Toothpaste Tube (Quality: F)]
[Error: Material does not contain standard cleaning agents.]
[Absolute Compensation Implanted.]
[Concept Granted: Absolute Conceptual Plaque Removal.]
[Defining 'Plaque' as: All forms of magical enchantments, killing intent, hidden contracts, and soul stains attached to the host.]
[Cleaning down to the roots.]
From the cheap nozzle, a thick, softly glowing white foam sprayed out. The foam didn't fall to the ground; instead, it expanded in the air at an absurd speed, carrying the sharp scent of mint and ozone that made the Inquisitors’ eyes water.
The white foam struck the silver manasuppression dome.
Krek... Kkrrakk .. ting!
The HighLevel magic dome, rumored to be able to withstand the rampage of an adult dragon, didn't explode. It peeled away. The magical runes forming the dome disintegrated and dissolved into the white foam as if they were nothing more than rust or stubborn plaque being scrubbed away by an invisible toothbrush. Within two seconds, the dome vanished, leaving behind the fresh, mintscented night air.
"W-What?!" Vance stumbled back, his eyes widening in horror as he stared at his staff. The lightning rune on his wooden staff was peeling off, turning into plain, smooth, clean wood without a trace of magical energy left.
The white foam continued to spread, sweeping over the twelve Inquisitors. They were not physically harmed. However, whenever the foam touched their skin, the mana inside their magic cores felt "scrubbed" until empty. The killing intent and arrogance that had been burning in their hearts suddenly vanished, replaced by a feeling of cleanliness, freshness, and an overwhelming urge to go home, brush their teeth, and get to bed early. Their magical weapons fell from their hands, turning into shiny, mundane metal and wood.
Kaelen Drago watched the scene, his breath hitching. The Magic Tower's Suppression Formation... highlevel weapon enchantments... all of them rinsed clean by just a spray of white foam?! Master Aster treats the Magic Tower’s prideandjoy magic as nothing more than dental plaque to be cleaned in the morning?!
"You... you erased our enchantments?!" Vance’s voice trembled. He fell to his knees as his mana was drained, the "clean" sensation forcing him to lose his fighting spirit. "What kind of magic is this?! Who are you really?!"
"I told you," Aster said, tucking the nowcompletelyempty toothpaste tube back into his pocket. "It’s just a cleaning tool. You all should be more diligent about your... personal hygiene."
Aster turned, intending to drag Kaelen away before the real Magic Tower reinforcements arrived. However, the leftover white foam from the spray slowly descended and landed on Vance's chest, right beneath his silver cloak.
And that was where the true nightmare began.
As the minty foam touched the skin on Vance's chest, the oneeyed man suddenly screamed. It was not a scream of physical pain, but the sound of a deep, causal bond being violently severed.
The toothpaste foam had detected a conceptual "stain" or "plaque" hiding deep within Vance’s soul. It began to scrub, forcibly pulling the stain out.
"ARRRGGGHHH! STOP! STOP SCRUBBING!" Vance roared, clawing at his own chest.
Before Aster and Kaelen’s stunned eyes, the skin on Vance’s chest split open, bloodless. From beneath his skin, a jetblack tattoo shaped like an eye with tentacles—the symbol of the Abyss Sect—was yanked out by the white foam. The tattoo shrieked at a high frequency that shattered the nearby warehouse windows.
Aster froze. Wait. What?!
In the original novel, Inquisitor Vance was a loyal dog of the Magic Tower. But that "plaque removing" foam had just revealed a truth never written in the book: Vance, and perhaps many other highranking members of the Magic Tower, had been infiltrated and controlled by Abyss parasites for years! The Clydes family hadn't sent the Magic Tower to arrest Aster. It was the Abyss Sect, having infiltrated the Tower, that hijacked the arrest order, utilizing legal authority to seize the "Dragon Heart Scale" (the Cracked Stone)—the only artifact capable of repelling the Abyss Tide!
The black parasite, forcibly pulled from Vance's chest, did not die. Sensing its existence threatened by the concept of "absolute cleanliness," the black mass shot upward, pierced the roof of the winery, and exploded in the academy city's night sky.
The mass formed a giant dark purple beacon that pulsed like a heartbeat, sending coordinate signals to another dimension. The purple light illuminated the entire Aethelgard night sky, bathing the city in a terrifying light of death.
[Critical Warning: The Abyss Summoning Beacon has been activated.]
[The Abyss Tide that was supposed to occur in Chapter 50 has been accelerated.]
[Time to arrival: 72 hours.]
Aster stared at the pulsing purple sky, the empty toothpaste tube slipping from his hand and hitting the ground.
"I think..." Aster muttered, his voice sounding weary and hollow amidst the academy’s warning sirens, which began to wail from every direction. "...we just made them very angry."
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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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