Novel's Extra: I Awakened The Strongest Physique From The Start - Chapter 255

Chapter 255: CHAPTER 256 – Justice or Torture?
The crowd’s roar had turned into a storm of cheers, their voices rising in triumphant exultation as Alex stood over Vaelith’s broken form.

The once-feared warrior, the one who had tormented students and trampled over others without mercy, now lay sprawled against the barrier like discarded trash.

Alex stepped forward, his silver-white hair catching the sunlight, his blue eyes cold and unreadable. He could hear their chants, their demands for blood, for suffering, for justice.

And he would grant them their wish.

But not for them.

No, this was for himself.

This was for Fenna.

This was for every student who had suffered beneath Vaelith’s heel.

Most of all, this was for the twisted justice that Vaelith had once claimed as his right.

He had said that he could do what he wanted because he was the stronger one, right?

Now Alex was the stronger one.

The moment Alex grabbed Vaelith by the collar, the warrior barely reacted, his consciousness flickering. But Alex wasn’t done.

Slap!

The first hit landed clean, his palm striking Vaelith’s face with such force that blood and spit splattered against the ground.

Vaelith’s head snapped to the side, his golden eyes wide with shock and pain.

Slap!

Another strike. And another. And another.

The crowd cheered at first, reveling in the humiliation.

They had suffered under Vaelith’s tyranny. They had seen him treat others as nothing more than stepping stones. And now, he was getting what he deserved.

But the cheering began to fade as Alex continued.

Slap!

Teeth flew from Vaelith’s mouth, clattering onto the bloodstained ground.

Slap!

His lips split open, swelling grotesquely, his face a ruined mess of bruises and torn skin.

Slap!

His head rocked back violently, blood spurting from his nose, drenching his clothes in crimson.

By now, the crowd had gone silent.

What had once been a show of justice had become something else. Something colder. Something relentless.

Alex’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes never wavering or showing hesitation. His grip tightened as he dragged Vaelith forward, slamming him onto the stone floor of the Colosseum.

Crash!

The impact sent cracks through the ground, blood pooling beneath Vaelith’s battered skull. His breathing was ragged, his body twitching involuntarily.

Alex kneeled beside him, his voice calm, almost gentle. “Do you remember?” He whispered.

Vaelith’s bloodied eyes barely managed to focus on him. “W-What…?”

Alex slammed his head against the stone again.

Crash!

“Do you remember what you were about to do to Fenna?” Alex’s voice was devoid of emotion, yet it carried across the silent Colosseum.

Vaelith gasped, choking on his own blood.

“Your eyes… you looked at her like prey.”

Crash!

“You justified yourself, said you had the right.”

Crash!

His head bounced against the stone, the sickening sound making some in the audience flinch.

The same people who had once cheered now watched in uneasy silence.

They had wanted revenge.

They had wanted Vaelith to suffer.

But now? Now, they were witnessing something else entirely.

This wasn’t justice anymore.

This was punishment. This was brutality. This was a reminder.

Never. Ever. Get on Alex’s bad side.

However, there were some, like Carcus, the fourth-year student dragged to the arena by Vaelith, who was still staring at the ongoing torture. They were enjoying it.

Alex stood, his face shadowed by the sun’s angle, his expression unreadable.

Then he reached down, grabbing Vaelith’s limp leg.

Snap!

“GAHHHHHHHH!!” The scream that tore from Vaelith’s throat was unlike anything before.

It was raw agony, primal, and wretched. His leg bent at an unnatural angle, the bone jutting out through torn flesh.

Then the other leg.

Snap!

Vaelith convulsed, his body spasming in agony, his voice breaking into pitiful gasps.

Then his arms.

Snap! Snap!

The once-mighty warrior now lay in a mangled heap, his limbs useless, his body broken beyond repair.

Alex stood over him, silent.

The Colosseum remained frozen, the weight of the moment sinking into every soul present.

Then Alex turned away, stepping back from Vaelith’s ruined form.

He didn’t need to say anything.

The message had already been made clear.

Vaelith would never rise again.

And if anyone else dared to follow his path, dared to cross that line—

This would be their fate.

“W-Why don’t you just… kill me?” It was then that Vaelith, with a hoarse voice, asked, making Alex pause.

“Kill you?” Alex tilted his head, studying Vaelith for a while before he spoke. “I do want to do that, but someone else already has a claim to your life, and I respect boundaries.”

As he said those words, he looked at a corner of the barrier in the sky, making everyone follow his gaze.

However, there was no one. That was until a moment later, when the man who had warned Vaelith before appeared.

He had been standing there from the start, observing everything silently. But unlike before, when his face appeared strict and angry, right now, there was a light smile tugging at his lips.

“You can take your time, boy,” he said, his voice low yet resounding through the Colosseum. “Just throw him my way when you’re done with him.”

Hearing those words, Alex bowed lightly as if showing respect, making the man nod before he replied to the man’s words.

“You can have him, sir. I don’t want to waste more time on this waste—”

Alex shook his head as he spoke, but his words were cut short as Vaelith, who had been silent, suddenly winced.

“Ghh!”

It made everyone turn to look at the guy, even the elder in the air, only to see the guy painfully scratching his skin as red marks appeared over it.

‘H-How is this happening?!’ Vaelith could feel his insides moving as if there was something in there, and the image of a drink appeared in his head.

It was a drink someone had given him before he came here, saying it would help him during the fight, and he understood what was happening.

“GAHHHHHH!!!!” He roared as the pain seemed to have increased but before anyone could understand what was happening or why he was acting like that, he yelled in rage.

“YOU CRAZY SAINTESS—!!”

His anger was clear from the look in his eyes. It was as if he had realized that he had been used and was now being discarded.

But it was already too late, as his words were cut short, his body exploding into blood and gore.

BOOM!

Dust and debris flew everywhere, but the barrier protected the audience, and Alex flew upward using gravity, moving away from the blast range.

The Colosseum was silent.

Not the awed silence from before, nor the uneasy hush when Alex had broken Vaelith piece by piece.

This was different. This was the silence of disbelief and horror of witnessing something that defied all understanding.

Then, as if in delayed reaction, the crowd erupted.

Screams, shouts, and panicked murmurs filled the air as people scrambled back from the barrier, some shielding their eyes from the crimson mist still lingering in the air.

Others gawked in stunned silence, their faces pale, unable to process what had happened.

“What the hell was that?!” Someone shouted.

“He… he exploded!”

“That wasn’t normal! Someone did this!”

Even those who had relished Vaelith’s suffering now wore expressions of shock, their thirst for vengeance replaced by a creeping unease.

A few of the academy’s instructors exchanged glances, their hands subtly moving toward the talismans and artifacts at their waists, prepared for whatever might come next.

And then something shifted.

The blood that had splattered across the Colosseum floor began to move.

At first, it was subtle—just a trickle, creeping unnaturally against the stone, defying gravity, ignoring the cracks and imperfections in the ground.

Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, the crimson liquid started slithering, converging toward the center of the arena.

Whispers of magic hummed through the air.

The temperature dropped.

A low, pulsating hum resonated through the stone, making the ground beneath their feet tremble.

Alex, still hovering in the air, narrowed his eyes. He could feel something ominous, something sinister.

He didn’t know what it was, but this wasn’t something that had ever appeared in the plot.

The blood swirled and twisted, forming intricate patterns—runes, symbols, shapes that flickered with an eerie glow.

And then, all at once, it snapped into place—a massive, crimson magic circle now etched into the Colosseum floor.

It pulsed. Once. Twice.

Then, the air cracked…