Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 111. Intruder (2)

The man let out a low chuckle, as if amused by his own audacity. "Oh come on, that was a good joke," he said with a grin, gesturing with open arms. "At least laugh a little."

No one laughed.

Not even a twitch of a smile.

The room was quiet as death.

His expression twitched—irritation bleeding into it as he scratched the back of his head. "Tch. Tough crowd. Fine, fine. Just so you know, I have no intention of laying a hand on that old hag. Seriously, look at me."

He gestured at himself with both hands, sweeping down his perfectly tailored coat, his sharp jawline, his unnaturally symmetrical features.

"Do I look like I’d need to stoop to that?"

He wasn’t wrong. The man was the kind of attractive that made people stop mid-sentence. But the sentiment was irrelevant.

His presence here, his intent to take Liana, had nothing to do with looks or preference.

Whatever he wanted—it wasn’t good.

Liana slowly stepped forward.

Her eyes stayed locked on him, but her voice was directed toward the others. Quiet. Heavy. "Do you promise not to harm the children? If I go with you willingly?"

The man gave a mock flourish and bowed at the waist like a courtier from a bygone era. "Yes, milady. Scouts honor. These brats were never part of the plan to begin with. Just collateral if you didn’t cooperate."

He extended his hand to her. "Shall we?"

There was a pause.

Liana turned her head slightly, just enough to glance over her shoulder.

Her gaze fell on Lilith—bloodied, unconscious, her body still contorted where it had slammed into the wall.

Then to Celeste, lying amidst broken wood and shattered glass, unmoving. And then to Freya—sitting on her knees, arms trembling, her face pale and drenched in cold sweat.

Then finally to Evelyn.

Their eyes met.

"Take care of them," Liana said softly. "And Amelia."

Evelyn didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her throat was tight, and her chest ached.

Then the man groaned. "Ugh. Enough of the damn sob story already."

Without another word, he seized Liana’s hand and snapped his fingers.

The air distorted with a crack, and a spiraling rift opened beside them—an unnatural tear in space that shimmered with iridescent hues. It pulsed with malevolence.

Without ceremony, he yanked her through it. Her body disappeared into the fold, and he followed right behind.

SHRINK.

The portal sealed behind them with a faint, final chime.

Silence returned.

And Evelyn collapsed to her knees, her breath escaping in ragged gasps.

Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, her hands slick with cold sweat.

"We... just survived dying," she whispered, her voice dazed. She wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular—just releasing the weight sitting on her lungs.

She forced herself upright and dove into her inventory, pulling out a small, square-shaped metallic device. Its surface gleamed faintly—an emergency teleportation device.

She activated it and pressed it against Celeste’s chest, then moved to Lilith and Freya, doing the same. Finally, she took a deep breath and pressed one against herself.

Just as her fingers hovered over the activation glyph, she heard it—

Footsteps.

Fast. Approaching.

Her eyes widened, heart spiking again. She gripped the device tighter, thumb ready to slam it if the person wasn’t one of theirs. No more gambles. No more unknowns.

But what if it was Art? Or Zyon?

She couldn’t risk leaving them behind.

She waited, tense, body coiled like a spring.

The footsteps came closer.

Then—

Zyon burst into the room, panting, his face strained with urgency. His coat was stained with dust, but there were no signs of injury. In his arms, he carried an unconscious Amelia, cradled protectively.

He skidded to a halt the moment he crossed the threshold.

"Did something happen—? Everyone is—"

His words died in his throat.

His eyes landed on Lilith.

And everything stopped.

His pupils dilated.

The color drained from his face.

There she was—Lilith—broken, bleeding, her breathing faint and ragged. Crushed like an insect.

Zyon stared, frozen.

Whatever he had seen outside—whoever he had fought or fled from—none of it compared to the carnage in this room.

He looked at Evelyn.

She looked back.

Neither spoke.

There was too much to say—and not enough strength left to say it.

Zyon’s words caught in his throat. For a second, he just stood there, eyes glued to Lilith’s broken form like a man struggling to comprehend the scene before him.

Then, regaining some semblance of focus, he gently placed the unconscious Amelia on the nearby couch, making sure her breathing was steady before rushing over to Lilith’s side.

One glance was enough to tell him how bad it was. Her stomach was caved in, her breathing shallow and ragged, her mouth still leaking thin streams of blood.

She looked more like a mangled doll than a human being.

But she was alive. Barely.

"Still breathing," he murmured under his breath, more to reassure himself than anyone else.

Then he turned to Evelyn, his voice low, calm, but carrying an undertone of tightly restrained fury. "What the hell happened here?"

Evelyn was still trembling, but she managed to meet his eyes. "A man appeared—black hair, black eyes. He came out of nowhere and... he destroyed Lilith. Then he walked inside like he owned the place and grabbed Celeste by the head. Nearly crushed her skull. Freya tried to intervene, but she froze from his glare alone."

She took a shaky breath before continuing. "Then he took Lady Liana. Just like that."

Zyon’s jaw clenched. The remnants of the man’s presence still lingered in the air—dense, suffocating, like a stain on reality itself.

The floor was cracked where Lilith had crashed, and debris of marble and stone were scattered everywhere.

"I see," he said grimly. "We need to get them medical attention—now."

"I was just about to teleport everyone," Evelyn said, fumbling with her inventory ring. "But when I heard the footsteps, I stopped to check. Just in case it was you or Art."

Zyon gave a slight nod. "Good call."

Evelyn knelt and retrieved a square-shaped teleportation device from her inventory.

With practiced precision, she activated and affixed one to Amleia. She handed another to Zyon, who clipped it to his belt.

"Where’s the destination?" he asked, already preparing himself for transit.

"Rose Academy," Evelyn replied without looking up. "Medical ward."

A soft mist enveloped them all in a swirling light. A faint shimmer passed through the room—and in the next instant, they were gone from the manor.

...

When Zyon opened his eyes again, they were back.

The sterile scent of antiseptic and mana-dampened air hit him first, followed by the stark white glow of medical-grade lighting.

The academy’s medical ward was the same as always—cold, clinical, lined with cryopods.

Standing by the far window was a young woman in a pristine nurse’s uniform—her pink hair tied into a neat bun, and sapphire-blue eyes scanning over a clipboard.

When she noticed the group of injured students appearing out of thin air, her calm demeanor shattered.

"Good heavens! What happened?!"

She rushed forward, the clipboard clattering to the floor as she took in the sight—Lilith sprawled on the floor, Celeste barely conscious and bleeding from the nose and ears, and Freya shaking visibly as Evelyn supported her.

Evelyn didn’t waste a second. "Please help them. Especially her—" she pointed at Lilith’s pale and bloodstained form, "—and her." Her finger shifted to Celeste, who was now mumbling incoherently.

Freya had regained some semblance of composure, enough to remain standing, but her wide, tear-filled eyes showed how close to breaking she truly was.

The nurse knelt immediately beside Lilith and Celeste, placing her glowing hands on each of their foreheads to check their vitals. After a moment, her expression grew grim.

"The brunette—Celeste—has sustained severe cranial trauma. Swelling in the brain, multiple fractures... she’s lucky to be alive. As for this red-haired girl—" she looked to Lilith, "—her intestines are torn. Several ribs are shattered. Internal bleeding everywhere."

She looked up, eyes sharp and furious. "Just what were you children doing?!"

Zyon stepped forward, voice calm but annoyed. "Will they survive?"

The nurse hesitated, then gave a tight nod. "Yes... if we act now. Get them into the cryopods. I’ll adjust the regenerative acceleration rates. They’ll need constant monitoring, and full healing could take weeks. Maybe months."

Evelyn finally let out a deep, relieved sigh. Her hands were still trembling as she supported Freya, but some of the panic drained from her expression. "It doesn’t matter how long it takes... just save them."

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