The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character-Chapter 305: Show For The Protagonist [5]

At that moment, Something inside Ryen snapped.

Meanwhile, The battle continue.

Flames and steel collided against the sound of shattering air.

Leona's sword howled through the air like a streak of white light, while Rachel's flame tiger lunged, its roar tearing through the chamber. The masked man didn't dodge. He didn't need to. Each strike that should've hit him cleanly—each blast that should've burned through armor—simply vanished. Like the air itself refused to let him be touched.

[Predictable,] he murmured, his voice almost bored.

He sidestepped Rachel's next strike and twisted his hand slightly. The flames recoiled midair, turning back toward their caster like a betrayed pet. Rachel's eyes widened as she raised her arm in reflex, but the backlash still sent her crashing to the ground, skidding across the stone.

Leona let out a furious cry and lunged again, her sword shimmering with freezing energy, the temperature around her dropping so fast the floor began to crack with ice.

The masked man caught her blade between two fingers.

Two.

[You're all the same,] he said softly, his tone neither cruel nor kind—just empty. [Charging in with conviction and calling it courage.]

He pushed, and the sheer force sent Leona flying backward.

At the same time, Kiera swung her mana-infused whip with trembling hands — the motion clumsy, desperate. But against Zaho Yuren, who moved as if the world itself slowed for him, it was useless. He caught the whip midair, fingers closing around it effortlessly, and gave a sharp tug.

Kiera let out a startled cry. "Uwaaaah!?"

Her boots scraped against the stone floor as she was yanked forward. Before she could even think to release the weapon, she was pulled straight toward me.

And yet — instead of freezing or panicking like I expected, she clenched her jaw, twisted her wrist, and threw a punch at me.

Her movements were rough, untrained, fueled by nothing but emotion — but that wasn't what mattered.

What mattered was that she moved at all. That she didn't let fear stop her.

"Bring him back…!" she screamed, tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes.

[Hmm?]

"Bring him back…!"

Her voice cracked, raw and unsteady.

Oh? What's this? Are you crying?

"You killed him!" she shouted again, striking my chest with all her might. "Bring back our Rin, you bastard!"

Our Rin?

I almost laughed behind the mask. Who's "our" Rin, you idiot?

The others are definitely going to misunderstand that.

[Are you whining?] I said softly, brushing aside her fist. [I can't grant that.]

"Oh, of course you can't."

A new voice cut through the chaos — calm, almost tired. Nora stepped forward, her mace glowing faintly with holy light. The radiance cast a faint gold shimmer across her armor as she continued, "If you had not killed him, this wouldn't have happened."

She moved swiftly, light magic flaring around her body. When she swung, the air cracked with power — and the impact shattered the black shield protecting me. But that single second she used breaking through was all I needed to step aside, letting her blow slam into the ground where I'd stood.

Dust billowed. The floor fractured.

[You haven't lost your reason like the others,] I said, turning my head slightly toward her.

"No?" she replied, her tone sharp but eerily steady. "I'm pretty angry, even if it doesn't look like it."

…Huh. You? Angry? Why?

She lifted her gaze, meeting mine through the mask — and for the first time, there was something real in her eyes.

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you," she said quietly, tightening her grip on the mace. "But I liked that guy lying there. I wanted to be friends with him — maybe even as close as I am with Ryen."

Her words were simple, but the sincerity in them hit harder than her weapon.

I blinked once behind the mask.

No… I didn't know she thought of me that highly.

For a brief moment, the chaos seemed to quiet — the air still heavy with magic and heat, yet filled with something else now.

Sincerity.

The kind that could pierce through all the noise, the anger, the hate.

Nora stood there, breathing hard, her hair disheveled and face streaked with dust and sweat. But her eyes never wavered.

Even after watching Rin fall, even after facing something she couldn't possibly comprehend — she was still standing.

Still speaking.

Still believing.

Behind her, the others were gathering themselves again — Rachel pushing herself up from the ground, Leona gripping her blade with trembling hands, Kiera clenching her fists, her eyes red and swollen.

And Ryen…

Ryen's hands were shaking.

Not from fear. Not anymore.

It was something else — a mix of disbelief, fury, and guilt twisting together inside him like poison.

"…You're wrong," he said suddenly, his voice low. "You think you can talk like you're above us — but you don't know what it means to care about someone."

He took a slow step forward.

"I don't know who you are, or what you want. But Rin… he's my friend."

The masked man tilted his head slightly, the gesture subtle but unreadable.

[Your friend?]

"Yes," Ryen said firmly, even as his legs trembled. "And that's why I can't let you walk away after this."

[Walk away?]

He almost sounded amused.

[You think you can stop me?]

"I don't care if I can't," Ryen said through clenched teeth. "Even if I can't touch you, even if I die trying—"

His words cut off as his aura flared. The floor beneath his feet cracked, faint ripples of mana spreading outward.

Leona glanced at him, startled. "Ryen—wait, don't—"

But it was too late.

Ryen moved.

Faster than anyone expected. Faster than he ever had before.

His blade drew a silver arc through the air, striking directly at the masked man's chest.

And for the first time since the fight began — the masked man actually raised his arm to block.

The clash was brief but deafening. Sparks exploded in the air, shadows writhing like serpents.

[Interesting,] the masked man murmured, pushing Ryen back with ease. [You're not completely hopeless.]

Ryen stumbled, panting heavily, his hand gripping his sword until his knuckles turned white.

"Don't—" he gasped, "—underestimate me."

The masked man's tone softened, just a little — almost like he was humoring a child.

[I'm not. That's why I'll say this only once.]

He glanced at the unconscious Rin lying on the ground, then back at Ryen and the others.

[If you want to save him… then survive what comes next.]