Chapter 30: Traces of the Curse

Chapter 30: Chapter 30: Traces of the Curse

Raphael’s heart skipped a beat, and instinct urged Raphael to expend all his magic power to forcibly dissipate the entangled threads. But right at that moment when life hung by a thread, countless fragments from the recently shattered glass pane suddenly transformed, turning into cold halos of light that enveloped tens of thousands of threads inside.

The very next second, a terrifying suction force followed the drifting threads, surging out from Jeremy’s body.

The threads did not disappear at all. More accurately, Jeremy was using these very crystal fragments as a conduit, brutally devouring and absorbing Raphael’s magic power in reverse.

Raphael immediately realized Jeremy’s ruthless intention. A calculation flashed through the blond youth’s mind to borrow his natal ability to suck back the leaking energy flow. However, if Raphael chose that extreme fighting method, the collision between the two explosive streams of magic power would undoubtedly lead to the consequence of both sides suffering a fatal backlash.

Raphael hesitated. Raphael could not bear to hurt Jeremy.

And with just that single beat of hesitation, Raphael utterly failed.

The moment the magic power flow was cleanly devoured, the threads disappeared into nothingness. When the freezing, razor-sharp crystal fragments pressed right against Raphael’s throat, the entire Zone A grandstand sank into a deadly silence, so quiet that one could clearly hear the sound of the wind blowing across the arena.

The announcer’s voice, amplified by magic power, echoed throughout the academy: "Arena Area Number 1, Jeremy from class 659 of the Anima Faculty claims victory!"

After this resounding announcement, thousands of spectators in the grandstand seemed to awaken from a stupor, immediately erupting into heaven-shaking exclamations.

"How could that be?! Did Jeremy actually win?!"

"Why couldn’t Jeremy win? Is it only logical that someone possessing a low-tier Spirit Covenant must be forced to lie at the bottom?"

"Now that you mention it, up until the very last minute, Raphael still did not use the exclusive ability of his Mark. I am truly very curious to know what the true capability of Spirit Covenant number 09 actually is!"

"It is truly absurd... No matter how you look at it, Raphael winning would make more sense."

"One can only say Raphael went easy on him! The holding back was so blatant it was like pouring an entire sea of water onto the combat arena!"

"I have to say, what the hell do you guys find so absurd? Going easy or not, where did Raphael go easy? I think your brains are the ones waterlogged! How annoying, watching an actual combat match and still spouting so much nonsense!"

The grandstand was noisy and bustling with conflicting opinions, but it absolutely did not affect the two youths standing on the marble arena floor in the slightest.

After the official result was confirmed, Jeremy’s expression remained unchanged as Jeremy decisively recalled his natal Holy Artifact. Jeremy turned around, taking long, straight strides to step down from the arena ring.

The first competition day had a total of four hundred participating students, clearly divided into the first half and the second half. Jeremy had completed his battle in the first half, so whatever happened in the second half had absolutely nothing to do with Jeremy anymore. Right now, the only thing Jeremy needed to do was rest and wait for the others to finish competing to prepare for the second round tomorrow.

After popping the cap and draining a physical stamina recovery potion, Jeremy did not hesitate, taking long strides to leave the competition area.

The surrounding crowd began to thin out, but the sound of patient footsteps from behind continuously followed close on Jeremy’s heels.

Jeremy frowned and stopped his steps, turning around to look at Raphael, who was stubbornly following him. Jeremy pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket, casually wiping away the dark bloodstains clinging to his fingertips, and a deep, cold voice rang out: "Is there anything else?"

Raphael wanted to step closer, but Raphael’s legs halted slightly due to tension. Raphael had to stop in place, mobilizing a bit of gentle magic power to condense a golden light bubble floating in mid-air. After carefully placing a high-grade healing potion and the previously prepared gifts inside, Raphael then raised his hand, gently pushing the bubble to float in front of Jeremy.

"... Are you angry?"

"Why should I be angry?" Jeremy glanced at the sparkling magic bubble in front of him, a hint of speechlessness welling up from the bottom of Jeremy’s heart. Did this guy still keep this habit of coaxing children?

Withdrawing his indifferent gaze, Jeremy looked straight into Raphael’s eyes, his tone as sharp as a dagger: "Or is it like they said, that you deliberately went easy on me just now?"

Raphael fell silent for a moment. Raphael’s pale lips pressed together slightly as Raphael replied in a low voice: "I did not. Since childhood, you have always been more outstanding than me, and the present is no exception."

"..." Jeremy’s line of sight slid slightly downward. Raphael’s hand hanging loosely by Raphael’s side curled slightly, and Raphael’s thumb was unconsciously twirling the silver ring worn on the index finger.

Whenever Raphael lied or tried to hide something, Raphael’s expressions and micro-reactions on his body could never be hidden. This was data lying deep within the original owner’s memories.

Jeremy had no interest in digging deep to find out what Raphael was thinking. Actually, whether Raphael went easy or not, it brought no difference to Jeremy. This was inherently not a holy war for dignity or proud aristocratic honor; to a pragmatic person like Jeremy, as long as the final result was victory, all methods were valid.

Jeremy pushed the golden bubble back in reverse and bluntly refused: "If you did not, then there is no need to bring it up again in the future. I do not need these things, goodbye."

"Wait!" When Raphael saw Jeremy decisively turn around intending to walk away, a look of fluster immediately appeared on Raphael’s face.

Raphael took hurried steps forward, reaching out to tightly grasp the sleeve of Jeremy’s black cloak. Due to tension and excessive force, every single pale knuckle on Raphael’s long, slender fingers stood out clearly. But the moment Jeremy coldly turned his head to look back, Raphael hurriedly let go as if burned.

"... Jeremy, I absolutely did not intentionally sever contact with you these past few months. It was not until right before the enrollment day that I could recover my consciousness. After that, because time was too rushed and the enrollment procedures piled up, I could not send a letter. I am truly... very sorry."

The youth possessing blonde hair stood in front of Jeremy, speaking with a cautious attitude, careful with every word, exactly like a criminal who was extremely terrified of making the person opposite him unhappy.

The direct bloodline of the Clevein family indeed bore a malicious bloodline curse. Before officially reaching the milestone of adulthood, the heir would be continuously dragged into endless nightmares. During those stages of disease outbreak, their bodies would suffer from a persistently high fever, completely losing consciousness and falling into a deep coma.

In the family’s history, there had been quite a few cases where once falling asleep, they would permanently never wake up again. Every single coma was a direct gamble with the reaper for them.

Regarding this point, the original owner knew very clearly, and Raphael had also mentioned it in the handwritten letters from years ago. If it was only because of this force majeure reason that contact was severed, then fundamentally there was no need to lower oneself to apologize to this extent.

Actually, Jeremy also could not understand; both being prestigious heirs of Duke families, why did Raphael always appear so passive and yielding in front of Jeremy. If forced to find a reasonable explanation, perhaps it was because Raphael overly cherished this childhood friendship.

Jeremy really wanted to turn his back and walk away, but ultimately Jeremy was still borrowing this physical vessel to be reborn. In the fragmented patches of the original owner’s memory, the title of "only son" of the Valmont Duke mansion was essentially just a cold shell brimming with irony.

In that gloomy childhood where the whole world turned its back, Raphael was the sole exception, the only friend outside the family that the original owner had once desperately clung to. Because he faced a person holding such great significance to this physical vessel, Jeremy truly could not pronounce heartless words to sever the relationship.

"There is no need to apologize, I never took that matter to heart."

Upon hearing this response, Raphael’s originally bleak silver-white eyes seemed to be lit up with a bit of vitality: "Then in the future... can I use the magic ID card to connect to the light screen to contact you?"

Jeremy faced those eyes brimming with anticipation, clicked his tongue inwardly, and ultimately still nodded and dropped a word: "Alright."

After finishing adding the contact identification code, joy was almost clearly visible on every contour of Raphael’s face. Jeremy operated the device to turn off the virtual light screen. Because Jeremy had just had the lesson of delay, this time Jeremy absolutely did not give Raphael any more opportunities to prolong the conversation.

Jeremy merely blandly dropped a sentence: "I still have things to do, see you later," and then immediately took long strides to leave very quickly. As for whether they would actually meet again or not, Jeremy would just let time answer that.

This time, Raphael did not reach out to hold Jeremy back anymore. The youth stood rooted to the spot, his intense gaze glued to Jeremy’s straight back until Jeremy completely disappeared behind the turn of the quartz stone corridor.

The moment Jeremy left, from the dark corner of the nearby marble slab, a black-haired young woman slowly stepped out. The girl stood respectfully beside Raphael, her flat voice speaking up to remind him: "Young Master, treat your wounds first."

Raphael ignored the advice, completely not bothering to look down at his bleeding abdomen, where the muscle fibers were torn into a mess due to bearing the rebounding force of magic. Raphael’s eyes still looked toward the direction where Jeremy had just disappeared, his tone cold to the point of being chilling: "Anno, what do you think would be the core reason causing a person to completely change their personality?"

Faced with the master’s sudden contemplative question, the young woman called Anno immediately understood clearly who Raphael was referring to. Anno carefully chose her words to answer: "There will be that possibility when the pain and grievance one must endure surpass the limits of human endurance."

Raphael let out a soft chuckle. The flustered, cautious, and tense appearance in front of Jeremy earlier seemed as if it were merely a mask that had just been removed.

Inside Raphael’s eye sockets, the silver-white pupils rippled with gentle fragments of light, but deep at the bottom condensed a thick streak of darkness that could not be dissolved in any way: "Then do you feel... Jeremy has changed a lot?"

Anno froze for two seconds, and only then lowered her voice to reply: "These past two years, Young Master Jeremy moved from the Western territory to the capital to live alone, having to endure a lot of grievances and being openly ostracized by the aristocracy. It is also normal for his personality to change a bit for self-defense."

The smile on Raphael’s lips instantly vanished cleanly, and the surrounding temperature seemed to plummet: "Ostracized?"

"... Yes." Anno observed her master’s sharply cold side profile, a surge of unease welling up from the bottom of her heart.

In recent years, the frequency of the Young Master’s coma outbreaks had become increasingly dense, and the time spent sinking into slumber had also lengthened terrifyingly. Even for this enrollment, the elders in the family had to consume countless resources, casting a series of magical sealing layers onto his body to temporarily suppress that curse, only then could they help Raphael smoothly step foot into the academy.

Throughout the entire period of maintaining that seal, every single hour and minute Raphael had to grit his teeth to endure the cruel backlash of magic power eroding his body. Perhaps it was also precisely because of having to live with that extreme pain that the Young Master’s temperament became increasingly erratic and unpredictably twisted.

Sometimes gentle and mild like a spring stream; other times sensitive and fragile like a baby bird unable to withstand the slightest rustle of grass in the wind; and there were also moments... when Raphael would turn into someone entirely ruthless and cold to everything around him, exactly like an outsider looking at an unfamiliar world.

In a worse scenario...