Chapter 76: Want to Stroll with Me?
"As the student council president, she doesn't even understand the most basic courtesy of respecting her teachers."
Dean Silver irritably flicked her tail, muttering complaints in the direction Akxia had disappeared.
"If I had known that Starfall University was full of problem children, I never would have accepted that old man’s invitation to become the dean."
If it had been any ordinary student, Dean Silver could have punished them slightly by deducting points from their respective faculty.
However, Akxia was already the top-ranked student council president, standing at the pinnacle among the students of Starfall University, leaving Dean Silver with no means to punish her.
Of course, Dean Silver still had one trump card—like what she had done to Ishta before, exiling her to his exclusive sub-dimensional space for solitary confinement.
But Akxia's Nightblade was far too dangerous, and Dean Silver genuinely worried that her subspace might be sliced apart by the 「Angel of Death’s Decree」 if he let down his guard.
That sub-dimensional space wasn't just used for confinement—it also served as her personal storage.
If it really got cut, she wouldn’t even have a place to store her dried fish anymore.
"Well, it can't be helped, Dean Silver."
"If we weren’t problem students, we wouldn’t have become Nightworld Travelers, nor awakened our Nightblades."
Rast raised his hand and casually stroked the dean’s fluffy snow ferret head.
"And you too, kid."
Dean Silver’s fur bristled instantly. She escaped from Rast’s hand and leapt onto her head.
She glanced down at Rast and noticed that the boy’s gaze was still fixed on the door of the hospital room—on the direction Akxia had already vanished.
"What’s wrong, still hung up on little Akxia?"
A cunning glint flashed in the ruby-like beast eyes of Dean Silver. "Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell little Shiltina?"
"If you don’t want me snitching, remember to bribe me. I’m not asking much, just one grilled fish cake from that cake shop you mentioned earlier."
"Doesn’t matter. If Dean Silver wants to tell Shiltina, then go ahead."
Rast smiled.
After spending some time with Dean Silver, he had roughly figured out the dean's behavior pattern.
This snow ferret often acted as if it was gluttonous, constantly needing to be fed by others—throwing tantrums and rolling on the floor if not fed.
But in truth, given her position as the Dean of the Magical Beasts Research Institute and her own level of power... if she really wanted to eat something, not to mention an ordinary grilled fish cake, even a royal delicacy wouldn’t be hard to obtain.
As for why she acted like such a greedy beast every day—in Rast’s view—
It was actually just a convenient excuse to stay close to people like him and Shiltina for longer periods.
Of course, in Dean Silver’s own words, it was so-called “investment.”
You could say this snow ferret embodied the very definition of a tsundere.
He looked toward the direction Akxia had left. "I was just wondering... what exactly did Akxia mean earlier when she said, ‘we’re the same kind’?"
"In a way, you and little Akxia really are the same kind."
Dean Silver lazily yawned while lying on top of Rast’s head.
"Since you’ve personally experienced little Akxia’s healing, you should understand how she became a doctor, right?"
"「Angel of Death’s Decree」—a command that forces all life within its domain to die instantly, a word of death that reaps life."
"But if this incantation is used on diseased organs, cells, or bacteria... or like earlier, directly kills the evil god’s curse entangling you, then naturally it can also serve to heal the injured."
"However, 'equal exchange of cost and reward,' 'risk and benefit coexist'—these have always been iron laws of the transcendental world."
"A Nightblade as powerful as the Angel of Death’s Decree—how could it not come at a price?"
Dean Silver paused briefly.
"The funeral bell rings in your ears, death whispering by your side, feeling life being stripped away bit by bit... that experience of nearing death is not pleasant at all."
"Even ordinary people who are only affected incidentally during treatment would suffer such extreme near-death agony that their brains would activate a protective mechanism to forcibly erase the memory."
"But for the wielder of the Angel of Death’s Decree—"
"Every time she activates the Nightblade, while stripping others of their life, that pain of near-death is returned to Akxia herself, magnified tenfold, a hundredfold."
"That is the cost of the Nightblade. As the angel who delivers death, only by personally experiencing it—fully understanding the weight of life—can one be qualified to wield the scythe of death and life."
Dean Silver glanced at Rast.
"Under normal circumstances, anyone healed by little Akxia would also be affected by the Nightblade’s backlash and would forget everything because of the brain’s protection from pain."
"Originally, we hoped you’d forget all the things you weren’t supposed to hear too."
But now it seemed that this guy hadn’t been affected at all.
Even with the god of death whispering at his ear, that kind of trauma-inducing pain didn’t even make Rast frown.
Thinking about it, that wasn’t surprising.
According to Shiltina, this guy had experienced all kinds of deaths over and over again in the Deep Blue Port loop.
Three hundred years. A hundred thousand deaths. His experience with near-death likely wasn’t much less than Akxia’s herself. Hoping he’d be traumatized was indeed a fantasy.
"I guess that’s why little Akxia said you’re the same kind."
Dean Silver sighed.
If normal people saw even the shadow of the god of death, they’d be scared enough to wet their pants.
But Akxia and Rast—these two were the kind of lunatics who went tugging the god of death’s beard for fun.
Really, there wasn’t a single normal person in Starfall University.
"That aside, why are you so concerned about little Akxia?"
Dean Silver shot Rast a suspicious look.
"Don’t tell me you’ve really fallen for her? What about little Shiltina?"
"I am indeed interested in President Akxia."
Rast nodded honestly. "But I’m interested in her Nightblade."
"I feel this Nightblade is fated with me."
“I knew it—”
Dean Silver felt a headache coming on. "Even though your Nightblade, Copy Eye, can replicate other skills, abilities like that often become harder to copy the stronger the target is."
"Considering the danger of the Angel of Death’s Decree and Akxia’s own level, you shouldn’t be able to copy it..."
Halfway through, Dean Silver suddenly stopped.
She just remembered—her own one-of-a-kind unique sequence had actually been copied by Rast in just a few days, including the ability of “Whisper Under the Moon.”
Though theoretically, Akxia’s ultra-high-risk Nightblade should be impossible to copy...
But what if?
Rast’s specialty was breaking common sense.
Back then, when he emerged alive from the Disaster Remnant as a Rank-2, he had already left the entire academy upper echelon stunned.
Dean Silver still felt smug recalling the expressions of those normally stern old fossils all staring slack-jawed.
"Even if you do manage to replicate little Akxia’s Nightblade, don’t use it recklessly."
Dean Silver’s tone turned uncharacteristically serious.
"According to the data from the Relic Institute, little Akxia’s 'Angel of Death’s Decree' is ranked at the top tier even among ultra-high-risk Nightblades—it’s classified outright as 'Forbidden.'"
"Because of its extreme danger and uncontrollability... if it’s exposed, it might attract attention from secret organizations and major nations across the entire continent."
"Little Akxia’s information is kept extremely limited, and her whereabouts unpredictable... all because the school is trying to protect her."
"If you don’t want to suddenly vanish without a trace outside campus, or get captured and dissected, even if you successfully copy it, you better not reveal it in front of others."
"Of course."
Rast nodded seriously.
The world of transcendents wasn’t about being brave and bold—the longer you survived, the more worth remembering you became.
If possible, he had no problem becoming a master-level schemer.
…
Rast’s body had already mostly recovered thanks to various alchemical potions.
It was only due to that black flame curse within him that his body hadn’t been able to fully heal before.
Now that Akxia had erased the curse, within just a few days, Rast passed all of the academy hospital’s tests and was discharged smoothly.
As Rast stood at the entrance of the hospital, taking deep breaths of the fresh outdoor air and wondering if he should fire a few thousand practice rounds at the shooting range to shake off his rust—
A nostalgic scent of violet shampoo floated in on the cool morning breeze.
A girl in a pure white dress sat leaning against the stone railing by the entrance, hugging her knees and gently swaying her feet as if quietly waiting for someone.
The morning sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting a warm glow on her pale cheeks. Her chestnut-colored long hair shimmered faintly.
It was Shiltina.
This was the second time Rast had seen Shiltina wearing something other than her usual red-and-white knight uniform—the last time was on a cold night in Frozenwater Town.
And this time, for some reason—
For the first time, Rast didn’t sense that usual stern and tense atmosphere she always seemed to carry.
Sensing Rast’s gaze, Shiltina leapt down gracefully from the railing and walked up to him.
Then she extended her fair hand and offered him an invitation.
"To celebrate your discharge..."
"Want to go stroll around the school festival with me?"