Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 85: The Courtyard Massacre

The hallways of the Academy were nearly empty. The deeper Ronan and I ventured into the restricted wing, the quieter it became. As we grew closer to the door that would open up to reveal a whole lot of bullshit, I struggled with the concept of what we needed to do, who we had to work with, and how everything would end up.

I raised my hand to knock on the door, but Ronan suddenly stiffened beside me.

"There is blood."

My pulse spiked as I looked around. Eventually–a handful of seconds at best–I followed his gaze downward. A dark red pool was slowly creeping from beneath Veldrin’s door, seeping into the cracks of the stone floor. It was fresh.

"Shit."

Instinct kicked in. I reached for the door handle, but Ronan moved first.

With a single, powerful kick, the wooden door buckled and crashed open, splintering shards of wood everywhere as he revealed to us what lay within. The moment we stepped inside, the scent of blood hit me like a physical force, the coppery tang filling my nostrils and lungs. Overwhelming me with what was typically just another experience, a scent I was all too familiar with and would likely deal with for another week, month, year, or decade.

Veldrin was slumped over his desk, his head tilted at an unnatural angle, his lifeless eyes staring at the piles of parchment scattered before him. His robes were soaked in blood, the deep gashes along his chest and throat evidence of a brutal execution. He was, for all intents and purposes, an eviscerated pile of gore. There were still defining features, things that told me he was indeed Veldrin. His fingers were still curled slightly as if reaching for something, a final act of defiance before death claimed him. Amidst all of the chaos, one thing was clear, the artifacts were gone.

The shelves had been torn apart. Books lay scattered, some ripped from their bindings, others smeared with streaks of blood. The desk had been rummaged through, drawers pulled open and their contents left to spill across the floor. It wasn’t just a murder, a mindless killing, this was a statement, a demonstration to tell us that we were in the wrong, that if we continued, this could be us as easily as it was Veldrin.

I stepped forward, my stomach churning. "No way... He wasn’t the villain? This fucker wasn’t the one that would betray us and give the Mcguffin to the big bad evil guy? He really was this world’s Snape..."

At first, I wanted to believe it was a setup. The cult was clever—this could be some elaborate trick to make us lower our guard. Maybe they faked his death. Maybe—

No, it was the truth. There were certain things that couldn’t be faked. No matter how much I argued internally with myself, I couldn’t dismiss any of this.

Ronan crouched near the desk, his glowing eyes scanning the scene with the same unsettling precision as always. "This was done recently."

I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat. "They took everything. Every artifact we recovered."

Ronan nodded, reaching down to brush his fingers against one of the open books. A deep cut in the wood marked where a blade had sunk in before slicing through. "They were in a hurry."

I exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the desk as my mind raced.

Had we been watched? Had they known about the artifacts all along? Or had we just been too slow—too distracted—while the cult was moving forward with their plans? fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

I clenched my fists. "We should’ve come sooner."

Before Ronan could respond, a scream rang through the halls. It was distant and sharp. A primal, raw, terrified sound that sent ice through my veins. Just as I thought it was all done, another, even louder. Then, everything became total chaos as the ground trembled beneath us. A force that vibrated through the stone of the academy floor.

There was no time, I had to move, I had to say fuck all to the Veldrin experiment, to the cult threat that lingered. I had to save Mara at any cost.

"Go!" I snapped.

Ronan and I bolted from the room, sprinting through the halls as the panicked echoes of students filled the air. As we rounded the next corridor, the first wave of fleeing students crashed into us—eyes wide, faces pale with terror.

I grabbed one of them by the shoulder. "What’s happening?!"

"The courtyard—" His voice cracked as he gasped for breath. "They’re killing everyone!"

The kid tore free from my grip and kept running, but I didn’t need to hear more.

Ronan and I shoved through the wave of bodies, forcing our way toward the heart of the chaos, and by the time we reached the courtyard, the massacre was already underway.

Blood stained the cobblestone. The scent of burning flesh filled the air. Cultists, their robes stripped of any pretense of disguise, moved through the panicked crowd like wolves among sheep, cutting down students and visitors alike. So many bodies littered the ground, it was like the entire graveyard of the capital had been uprooted and scattered across the floor.

Some students and some faculty were still alive, writhing, clawing at their own throats as their mana was ripped from their bodies. The cultists weren’t satisfied enough to just murder everyone, they had to harvest the life force of every person in the vicinity.

Faculty members had begun to fight back, but they were being overwhelmed. The cultists were too organized and too well-prepared, and they had surprise on their side. The moment a professor cast a spell, the magic was absorbed into ritual circles that had been hastily drawn in blood, redirecting the energy back into their ranks. It was an absolute slaughter.

I locked eyes with Ronan, and without a word, we surged forward. A cultist lunged at me, his curved dagger gleaming in the firelight of burning students. I dodged the strike, twisting as my blade met his throat. Blood sprayed, hot and fast, as he crumpled.

Another came from my left. Ronan intercepted him with a precise flick of his fingers, a wave of fire bursting from his palm. The cultist’s scream was short-lived as he collapsed into a pile of smoldering ash.

We pushed deeper into the fray as a professor near the stage had conjured a barrier, shielding a group of students behind him as he chanted an incantation. But before he could release the spell, one of the cultists raised a hand, fingers splayed, causing the professor to freeze.

A sickening crunch echoed through the courtyard as his entire body twisted in on itself—bones snapping, limbs contorting unnaturally before he collapsed into a heap of shattered flesh. It was all followed by the student’s gruesome demise. Bodies were piling up quickly and there was little to nothing I could do. I had to find Mara, if I could do anything, it would be to save her.

I barely had time to register the horror before the very sky itself came alive as dark clouds spiraled above us, a vortex of pure abyssal energy that began to swirl around.

The courtyard was changing as stone columns cracked and twisted, reshaping into something else. The magical torches that peppered the courtyard now flickered and died, replaced by eerie violet flames that cast deadly shadows against the walls.

I had seen this place before, but not here, not in the Academy. This was a vision I gleaned from Mara’s memories, through the connection we so closely shared. This was the cult’s temple and the courtyard was no more as it shifted to match my nightmares.

This wasn’t just a mass killing, no mere act of terrorism, this was another ritual, one that was in full swing, and one that we had likely no chance of standing against or stopping... They had all the key fragments.

However, if we didn’t stop it, the Academy—and everyone in it—would already be lost.

The screams shattered the illusion of safety. One moment, I had been standing among the gathered students, watching as the ceremony unfolded, feeling like a stranger in my own skin. The next, chaos descended.

The air rippled, a suffocating weight pressing down on my chest as the once-bright sky darkened unnaturally. It wasn’t a storm—not a natural one. This was magic. Powerful, ancient, wrong.

A sharp cry rang out beside me. I turned in time to see a blade driving into a student’s ribs, red splattering across my vision, and warm droplets peppering my cheek. She choked on her own breath before crumpling to the ground, eyes wide in shock.

Something inside me snapped into place, telling me to move, to get my ass moving now or never. I spun toward the threats and began running before I even registered the thought.

The once-orderly courtyard that served the simple purpose of a graduation ceremony, was now nothing more than a slaughterhouse. The cultists continued to shed their disguises by the dozens as they ripped through the gathered students and visitors like they were nothing. Professors retaliated, spells flying in every direction. The air crackled with energy, explosions lighting up the scene in bursts of fire and ice, but this was a fight they couldn’t win.

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