I regressed and became the Sword Ice King - Chapter 387

Chapter 387: Chapter 387- Festival 118- Raid on a Rainy Night 57
Tension hung like a pint of water frozen in mid-air. Stale and motionless, yet, threatening to cause a whole mess of destruction.

The wind swirled, and thunder echoed in the skies. The black canvas of the night blocks the luminance of the glowing moon.

Despite the darkness that crept over the Roofs of the Homeric Academy for Gifted Children, the night wasn’t completely left in its obsolete blackness.

What stood apart were the vibrant colours of elemental explosions. Mana surged in the air like a rocket exhaust, infringing the motion of the wind.

It swirled haphazardly. Spreading chaos while the voices of battle picked up into the air.

Collisions. Strikes. Fists stained in blood. Bodies burning with adrenaline. A surge of madness frantically blinded them into a fit of red. It was a madhouse. A desperate attempt to overthrow the other.

Words ran deep, and actions deeper.

Amelia ran through the battlefield. Or what comprised it.

Fallen Lecture buildings, levelled to the ground. There were tons of rubble and boulders, some as large as a whale, and a few others as small as an elephant.

Yet, it stood gagantous in its sight.

Ahead of them was the still pond of the Academy.

Its ornamental flowers dangling in a silent hue. Vibrations rippled through the water, shaking the semblance of the pond. A pained rhythm that spread like cancer.

It shook once. Then twice. Then a third time, and in the next moment, a surge suddenly emerged. Like a tentacle of pure aqua malice, it sprang into the air. A hundred more followed in its wake as it invaded the battlefield.

Flowing like vicious serpents as they slammed against the Robed figures.

It was a deadlock. A bloody one.

Knights and warriors charged at the Frontlines. Throwing themselves against the incoming number of robed figures.

Some of them retaliated with equal or higher force, while the Mages laid back.

In the air, from a distance. A battle of magic and mana commenced in all its spectacle.

The air crackled with the intensity of their spells. Cast with ridiculous speed and accuracy before projecting towards their foes.

It would strike against another spell, cancelling each other in a rippling flow of broken mana before erupting in a small explosion.

The force sent a shockwave through the air, adding depth to the battlefield in a way no normal human artillery ever could.

Below were the Knights and Warriors, weapons in arms with glares sharp enough to pierce through titanium.

Amelia led the lots, Mayo charging beside her math-measured steps.

Mayo was a level 50 Guardian. An indisputable help in their confrontation.

Though, quiet and withdrawn. He was one to bare his fangs when time required him to do so.

And now? He did just that.

With blood coursing through his veins in a blood rush. Filling him with immeasurable energy, he jumped into the air. A flicker of white light ensued over his entire being as a form took shape from the light.

With a solid, loud thud, he landed right in the middle of the battlefield.

A shockwave disperses in concentric circles through the entirety of its space.

A new form overtook him. A gigantic armour. Silver with red linings, brimming with the intent of a giant as he stood, hovering the Robed figures.

He grabbed his arms in the air, dual Blades forming as he smashed it against the crowd.

The world quaked as a dome warped into life. Rising from the ground with a hum as a shockwave blasted from its insurgency.

Amelia staggered for a moment in the process, and so did many others with her, but they held true.

Charging passed the armour of her Deputy Class Monitor, she raised her shield into the air as it collided with the blade of a Robed figure. A piercing force permeated through her bones as she reeled from the impact.

The air cracked from the intensity and soon, the collision force grew wider. Brimming with life and malice.

Swords slammed against swords. Spears crashed through shields. Shields held and fought back, pushing with the entirety of their strength.

While a dome dispersed out in a fluid motion, phasing through the Students and slamming into the Robed figures like a bunker wall.

A groan escaped their lips, some slipping past it with ridiculous strength while a few others struggled with the moving dome.

Amelia bit down as he charged through, sword flowing through the air in a fluid motion. A slice of principle and skills as it reached the neck of one of the Robed figures.

In a sudden and sharp motion, the figure curled around the ground, feet stretching like springs on an ice field. Curling around the attack before reaching for Amelia in a heartbeat.

He grabbed her by her neck, pulled her into the air and slammed her into the ground in successive motions.

-BOOM!

Amelia coughed up blood, a crunching sound sweeping through her body like an electric current.

A crater formed below them as the wind swept the robe off his head. The face revealed in all his splendour.

She gasped as they locked gazes for a moment. Startlement and realization grew on her pale face.

“Mr. Felix?!” She muttered slowly.

Above her was another well-known Lecturer. A few of those had claimed to be one thing yet proven to be something else.

Her Battle Arts lecturer. Or at least for her class.

“What do you think you’re doing, Amelia?” His voice came in a low, hushed and dangerous hue.

Resistance laced at the tip of his tongue.

“What kind of students attack their own Lecturers?!”

Amelia’s expression grew from shock to startlement. Then slowly, painfully slowly. Resilience began to take root in her expression.

“So…..you’re one of them as well.”

A silence hung between them. Both are deep in their thoughts. Calculating. Contemplating.

While the world around them went into a frenzied panic.

Screams ensued in the air. Blood plastered like spray paint against the wet ground. Wounds festered. Blades sliced. Spears struck and soon, skills began to activate.

“It doesn’t matter now, Amelia. What matters is you tell the others to stop this nonsense. You can not defeat us. You are too weak.”

Amelia’s brows furrowed. A crease formed on her brow as her lips twitched slightly.

He was right, and she knew it.

The chances of a win in their favour were slim. After all, the experience was laid bare in the hands of the Lecturers, leaving the Students only to scuffle for what was left of it.

“We outnumber you.” She replied. Stern. Resilient. Unyielding.

Indeed, there were more. At least twice as many as the number of Robed figures.

If the Students were systematic and paid attention to commands, then wind in their favour was completely possible.

Weighing their chances, Amelia had thought of both their advantages and disadvantages before deciding on something as grand as this. And their advantages were definitely more.

“You think numbers are enough?” The man cut through her thoughts like a blade. A sharp one dripping with venom.

He tightened his muscles, gripping tighter around her neck while a grin grew across his face.

“Don’t be stupid, Amelia. Absolutely strength takes all.”

Amelia wiggled in his grasp. Her arms reached out for her neck in a heartbeat and grabbed it. She slammed it. Pulled. Pushed. Grabbed. Any way she could, she struggled to set herself free.

But with each attempt, the grip only grew tighter.

“Aaar–”

Her words came short. Low, muffled gasps that barely found space to escape. Then, she threw her hands to the side, arms clawing at the sword that landed beside her.

She reached. She failed.

Her body slowly convulsed from the pressure doused upon her by her own Lecturer.

Their eyes met at a single point. Her expression was riddled with pain and anguish. Purple colouration threatens to cloud her pale face.

Felix simply looked with brutal disinterest. Eyes fixated on her, yet away from her. He had long since made his peace with any form of guilt. And it seemed to be the same for many like him on the battlefield.

Everything now was simply an inevitable consequence of their actions. Actions that needed to be carried out not because of free will but of duty.

And he was hellbent on achieving his duty.

Seconds passed by on the battlefield now. The explosions never died down. The cry of fear-stricken students, forced to fight for their lives, never died down.

And what was worse? This was merely the beginning.

Amelia began to lose touch with the physical now. Eyes bent backwards, arms hanging in her last effort. Her chest rose for the final time, or what seemed to be her final time.

Felix’s expression had been tense throughout the whole process. Contours of facial muscles bulging out. Their teeth bared out while his lips quivered around them.

Until it stopped.

A blade pierced through the air, and his chest with it. One, simple, fluid motion. From the back down to his chest.

A single action that took away every energy within his body.

His expression loosened in an instant. The shock was evident in his eyes as he knelt frozen under the lock of bodily deactivation.

Without having the time to move a muscle, he simply tilted to the side and fell to the ground, blood oozing from his chest like an opened tap.

Amelia heaved greatly as she sat up like a catapult. She pushed his arm away from him as her breath increased. Haggard. Disorganized.

Images flashed before her eyes as she blinked. Tears streaming down in bits.

For a moment, she sat motionless. Disoriented until she looked up.

She froze.

“Sorry about that, Amelia. I took my eyes away from you for a second, and before I knew it, you were pinned like a mouse.”

Luke stretched his arms out towards her. Dried crimson was etched in his palm.

Amelia hesitated for a moment, their gaze locked on one another before she took his arm.

Her thoughts reeled in slowly. The spark of orientation returned to her form as she was pulled to her feet.

“Thank you, Luke.” Her gaze shifted to the body next to her. Felix Hamilton. Lecturer of the Faculty of Battle Arts and Imagery.

A prestigious Lecturer once before. Now, a dead rebelist. Wiped from history if it ever had enough ink to write his name.

She stood in motion. Taking in the sight of what was to come and what had already come.

Then sighed. Turned to Luke and walked forward.

“Let us continue.”

Luke stood at the back for a moment, grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. A smirk grew across his lips.

“As you wish, Commander.”

___A/N___

I will need to take down a few notes and rearrange the sequence of events to fit the storyline.

Two chapters a day will resume afterwards.