2026-07-18 09:19:17The night sky above the Aethelgard Magic Academy was no longer black. It had bruised—a swollen, throbbing purple that beat in sync with Aster’s heart, which felt ready to explode.
Aster ran. Their lungs burned like embers, their feet stumbling over magical tree roots protruding from the alleyways behind the academy. Behind them, deep in the old winery district, a pillar of violet light still pierced the clouds, swirling like a giant drill boring into reality. It wasn't fireworks. It wasn't a New Year's party. It was the Abyss Beacon.
And Aster Vale, a junk dealer who just wanted to sell some used toothpaste, was the one who had just triggered it.
"Pick up the pace, Master! The Magic Tower’s security perimeter will be active in three minutes!" Kaelen shouted from behind. The young man didn't sound tired at all. Instead of panic, Kaelen's voice vibrated with a tone suspiciously like... excitement?
"Don't... call... me Master!" Aster gasped, wiping away the cold sweat that stung their eyes. "And stop running like we’re out for a morning jog! We just triggered the apocalypse, Kaelen! The apocalypse!"
They took a sharp turn into a narrow alley between two abandoned dorm buildings, seeking cover from the aerial patrols that had undoubtedly already been deployed. Aster slumped against the damp stone wall, their legs feeling as though their bones had turned to jelly. They took a ragged breath, trying to calm a heartbeat that felt like the war drums of a barbarian tribe.
But calm was impossible. Because right before their eyes, a semitransparent blue screen—visible only to them—was glitching.
[SYSTEM ERROR: CRITICAL TIME ANOMALY DETECTED]
[CAUSALITY ANALYSIS: 'DRAGON WHITENING' TOOTHPASTE INTERACTED WITH ABYSS PARASITE HOST.]
[RESULT: TOTAL PURGE. PARASITE DEAD. HOST (VANCE) EXPERIENCING SPIRITUAL ANAPHYLACTIC SHOCK.]
[SIDE EFFECT: MANTIC PARASITE DEATH TRIGGERED EMERGENCY BEACON TO ORIGIN DIMENSION.]
Aster gulped, the taste bitter as bile. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," they muttered, clutching their own hair. "I just wanted to make Vance’s teeth white so he could give a sweet smile to the Board of Directors. Why is the side effect a longdistance call to hell?!"
The system screen flickered again, this time a painful, bloodred.
[WARNING: 'ABYSS WAVE' SCENARIO (CHAPTER 50 EVENT) HAS BEEN FORCIBLY TRIGGERED.]
[ESTIMATED ARRIVAL OF ABYSS FORCES: 71 HOURS 59 MINUTES 42 SECONDS.]
[WORLD STATUS: PANIC. WORLD LAWS ARE ATTEMPTING TO REPAIR BUG... FAILED. REPAIRING... FAILED.]
[SYSTEM SUGGESTION: RUN. OR WRITE A WILL.]
"Seventytwo hours..." Aster whispered, eyes wide as they stared at the digital numbers counting down in their vision. "Three days. I have three days before this world gets eaten by monsters from another dimension. Three days! I haven't even finished paying off the pressure cooker installments at the flea market!"
They imagined dying a ridiculous death, eaten by a multimouthed monster, while their debts were passed on to Toby, their roommate who couldn't even cook instant noodles without burning them.
"Master?"
Kaelen’s voice broke Aster’s panicked reverie. The young man stood at the mouth of the alley, back straight, his silhouette framed by the faint purple light from the sky. Kaelen wasn't looking at Aster hyperventilating in fear. Kaelen saw a man sitting in deep contemplation within the shadows, staring at his own hands with a vacant gaze—as if bearing the weight of a great sin for the sake of humanity's salvation.
"Do you see that, Kaelen?" Aster pointed at the purple sky with trembling hands. Their voice was raspy, broken by dehydration and pure terror. "The sky... it's broken. Everything is wrong. I... I didn't mean for it to happen this fast."
I mean, I didn't mean to trigger the apocalypse this quickly! I need at least a month to save up for retirement and run to another continent!
However, to Kaelen’s ears, the sentence sounded different. Very different.
Kaelen stepped closer, his eyes shimmering with an intensity that made Aster shudder. For Kaelen, a Time Looper who had lived through 147 painful life cycles, seeing Aster Vale "regretful" was an alien concept. The Master never felt regret. The Master was only... calculating.
"Didn't mean for it to happen this fast?" Kaelen repeated Aster’s words, then gave a soft snort, a faint smile of admiration etched on his lips. "Of course. It’s too soon even by their standards. But that is the genius of it, isn't it?"
Aster blinked, confused. "Huh? What are you talking about? We're in huge trouble! Those rats... those monsters are coming!"
"Exactly!" Kaelen slapped his palm, his eyes burning with the fire of fanaticism. "Rats! Master, you truly see them. For hundreds of years—I mean, for all this time—the Abyss Sect has been hiding in the deepest holes of the Magic Tower. They are parasites that couldn't be touched because we didn't know who they were. Inquisitor Vance was only one of thousands."
Kaelen knelt before Aster, his voice dropping to an intense, conspiratorial whisper.
"If you had killed Vance quietly, the others would have run. They would have hidden again for another hundred years. But by triggering the Abyss Beacon now... in the middle of the city... in front of everyone’s eyes..." Kaelen let out a small, slightly manic laugh. "You just burned their house down! You forced every rat, every traitor, every cultist to crawl out of their nest in one sweep! They have no choice but to gather to welcome their 'master' descending from the sky!"
Aster stared at Kaelen, mouth agape. Their brain struggled to process the logic they had just heard.
Wait. What?
"You..." Aster gulped, trying to find words that made sense. "You think I... did this on purpose?"
"Don't be humble, Master," Kaelen cut in quickly, looking at Aster with profound respect. "This strategy is too cruel to be admitted openly. Baiting the enemy with the apocalypse? Using the threat of total destruction to purge the academy in one night? This isn't just a tactic. It’s a divine strategy. A Grand Design."
[SYSTEM NOTE: USER CHARISMA INCREASED ACCIDENTALLY. 'MYSTERIOUS AURA' EFFECT ACTIVE.]
Aster felt like crying. System, please turn off that effect. I’m not mysterious, I just have diarrhea because I ate cheap clams this afternoon!
"But Kaelen," Aster tried to argue, their voice sounding pathetic to their own ears. "72 hours. We only have 72 hours. That’s not enough time to... to prepare anything. We don't have an army. We don't have a fortress. We only have..." Aster reached into their pocket and pulled out the crumpled, nearly empty tube of toothpaste. "...this."
Kaelen stared at the toothpaste tube as if looking at the Holy Sword Excalibur.
"A weapon of mass destruction," Kaelen muttered in awe. "And you say it isn't enough? Of course it isn't enough for an ordinary person. But for you? 72 hours is a luxury. Just enough time to make them tear each other apart before you step in."
Kaelen stood up, glaring at the darkening sky with a challenging look.
"Let them come. Let the Magic Tower panic. Let the noble Valerius family tremble behind their castle walls. Because this time, Master... we won't be hiding. We will sit on the front lines, drink tea, and watch them crumble by your own design."
Aster looked at Kaelen’s broad, confident back. In their heart, two voices screamed.
The first was their survival instinct screaming: RUN TO A CAVE! SLEEP UNDERGROUND! SELL A KIDNEY FOR A BOAT TICKET!
The second was their economic logic: If I run now, my security deposit is gone. And if the apocalypse really happens, the gold coins under my mattress will be useless.
Aster let out a long sigh, a breath that sounded heavy and resigned to Kaelen, even though they were actually busy counting the remaining coins in their pocket.
"Alright," Aster said finally, standing up with legs still trembling slightly. They had to go back to the dorm. At least Toby was there, and Toby had a stash of instant noodles. If the world was going to end in 72 hours, Aster Vale wasn't going to die with an empty stomach. "We're going back to the dorm. I need to... pick up some things."
Junk. I have to grab all my junk. Maybe there's something I can use as a shield or at least sell to refugees later.
Kaelen nodded firmly, his eyes shining with meaning. "Retrieving war artifacts, I see. Understood. Your secret armory at the dorm must be ready."
"Not an armory..." Aster muttered while starting to walk again, dragging their feet. "Just a pile of trash under the bed."
"Humble to the end," Kaelen praised himself, walking behind Aster like a knight escorting his king to the battlefield. "Trash to the world, but a weapon to The Observer."
They moved through the shadows of the academy city, which was starting to descend into chaos. In the distance, the Magic Tower’s emergency bells began to toll, breaking the night’s silence with a deafening, panicked tone.
Aster stared at the system notification still blinking in the corner of their vision.
[COUNTDOWN: 71:45:10]
[SURVIVAL TIP: DON'T DIE.]
"Thanks for the tip, really helpful," Aster muttered sarcastically at the empty air.
They didn't know how they were going to survive an accelerated apocalypse with nothing but junk and a bodyguard who suffered from delusions of grandeur. But one thing was certain: Aster Vale had just become the most wanted person in the entire kingdom, and they didn't even know why.
"Kaelen," Aster called out softly without turning.
"Yes, Master?"
"If anyone asks later... we were just out for a night walk. Understand? Don't say anything about the toothpaste."
Kaelen smiled thinly, a smile full of secrets and blind loyalty. "Of course. The secrets of a divine strategy must be guarded. Let them think this is a natural disaster. They don't deserve to know that this is your work of art."
Aster could only close their eyes and pray that the gods governing this novel had a sense of humor. Because if not, Aster was certain that in 72 hours, they would be the most regretful ghost in existence.
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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
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