The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character-Chapter 303: Show For The Protagonist [3]

Ryen's throat felt dry as dust. The words wouldn't come out at first — the sight of Rin's limp form drained all sound from him.

But someone had to speak.

"Who… who the hell are you?" Ryen managed, his voice raw and shaking.

The others stood frozen behind him — Professor Lena, Rachel, Leona, Kiera and Nora— every one of them instinctively keeping their distance.

The aura pressing from the masked man wasn't something a sane person would approach. It wasn't rage, or killing intent. It was heavier than that — like standing before something that wasn't supposed to exist in this world.

The masked figure tilted his head slightly at the question, as though genuinely curious why they were asking.

"[Who I am…?]" the voice echoed, calm and distant. "[Does that matter?]"

Ryen gritted his teeth, stepping forward despite the invisible weight bearing down on his chest.

"It does. You're standing over his body! You killed the boss, didn't you? What did you do to Rin?"

The masked man's gaze shifted to the boy still suspended in the air. For a second, the shadows around Rin's body flickered — almost protectively. Then the man looked back at Ryen.

"[Killed? I guess you could say that or is he really dead? Why don't you guess?]"

The answer came so simply, it chilled Ryen more than an outright confession would have.

Ryen's knuckles turned white as he gripped the hilt of his sword. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, but his feet refused to move. Every instinct screamed that drawing his weapon here would be suicide.

Behind him, Nora gasped softly, her trembling hands covering her mouth. Even Professor Lena — the calm, composed instructor who had led them through near-death situations before — stood pale and silent, her mana trembling uncontrollably.

The masked man watched them all, silent for a long, suffocating moment. Then, almost absently, he brushed his thumb along Rin's shoulder.

"[This one... was interesting,]" he said at last, the distortion in his voice deepening, echoing like a whisper from a cavern. "[He tried to fight something far beyond his reach... and still smiled at the end. Foolish, but admirable.]"

Ryen's chest tightened. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, to cut that mask from the man's face — but he couldn't even tell if what he was feeling was anger or fear anymore.

"Put him down," Ryen said hoarsely, every word scraping out like broken glass. "Now."

The masked man turned his head slightly, as though considering the request. Then, with a lazy flick of his wrist, the shadows holding Rin receded.

Rin's body hit the ground with a dull thud — soft, final, and horrifyingly quiet.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then Rachel's voice broke through the silence, raw with disbelief.

"...You bastard…"

Leona's sword flashed to life beside her, frost racing down the blade as mana surged through her veins.

"I'll kill you!"

Both of them charged forward without hesitation — Rachel's flames roaring into the shape of a tiger, Leona's sword cutting through the air with a whistle that made the air itself tremble.

The masked man didn't even flinch. He merely lifted one hand, the gesture slow, unhurried — almost bored.

"[Not bad.]"

The moment his fingers twitched, Rachel's flames scattered like dust, the blazing tiger dissolving into harmless embers. Leona's blade met his palm a second later — and stopped dead.

No sparks, no clash — just a sickening stillness, as if the world itself refused to oppose him.

"[But tell me,]" he said softly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve, "[aren't you directing your anger at the wrong person?]"

Leona's eyes widened, trembling with fury. Rachel froze mid-step.

"[You're the ones who couldn't save him,]" the masked man continued, his tone still calm, almost sympathetic — which only made it worse. "[He's the one who couldn't run away. And the Rose Dragon… it's the one that killed him.]"

He looked down briefly at Rin's unmoving body. Then his voice hardened.

"[So why blame me?]"

He flicked his wrist, and the force of it sent Leona skidding backward across the floor. Rachel caught her before she hit the wall, flames sputtering in shock rather than power.

"[Don't blame others for what you lost because of your incompetence,]" he said coldly, his words like ice slicing through the air. "[It's disgusting.]"

Then he shifted.

It wasn't a battle stance — not exactly. It was loose, almost casual, yet every motion flowed with a frightening precision. No wasted energy, no visible weakness. Just pure, disciplined lethality.

"[Still, if your rage needs somewhere to go…]"

He raised his hand slightly, shadows curling lazily around his fingers like smoke answering a master's call.

"[I'll be your opponent.]"

That single sentence snapped whatever restraint remained.

Professor Lena shouted something — maybe to stop them, maybe just out of instinct — but it was too late.

The others surged forward.

The sound that followed was chaos.

Boots striking stone, weapons flaring with mana, shouts and spells layering over one another — a storm of desperation and fear wrapped in courage.

Ryen didn't move. Not right away.

He stood frozen as his teammates charged, every instinct screaming that this was wrong.

The way the masked man stood there, still as a painting in a room on fire… it didn't fit. There was no tension in his stance, no hint of defense — as though their combined power was little more than a passing breeze to him.

Leona reached him first. Her sword came down in a blur of frost and fury.

It never touched him.

The moment her blade neared his body, the air thickened — not with mana, but with something older, heavier. The strike slowed, then simply stopped, suspended inches from the mask's pale surface.

A pulse followed — quiet, almost soundless.

Then the backlash hit.

Leona was thrown backward like a rag doll, her sword shattering into glimmering shards of ice. Rachel screamed her name, launching a burst of flame that should've turned the chamber into an inferno.

The masked man didn't dodge.

He merely waved a single finger through the air. The fire parted neatly down the middle, the flames evaporating into black smoke.

"[Reckless,]" he murmured, voice calm, almost disappointed. "[Is this what passes for strength now?]"

Rachel gritted her teeth, blood trickling from her lip. "You—"

"[You think fury equals power.]" His tone deepened, no longer calm but colder — like a truth being spoken aloud. "[You throw yourselves into battle without purpose, without clarity. That's why you lose.]"

"Shut up!" Rachel shouted, summoning another wave of flame — but her knees buckled before she could release it. The fire collapsed into sparks around her, her mana drained to nothing.

A flicker of shadow at her feet — that was all it took.

....And it was just beginning of the long lasting fight.

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Author Note:-

Sorry for long one month paused. I'll update regularly from tomorrow onwards.

Thanks for reading