The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character Chapter 208 208: Execution Of Trash [4]

Samuel—No—Avi magic pulsed around him—wild, incoherent, unstable. There was no rhythm, no chant, no structure. Just raw, bitter emotion wrapped in mana.

"You don't know anything," he repeated, louder this ti. "You don't know her. You don't know what she ant to !"

He surged forward.

This ti, I was ready.

He wasn't fighting anymore.

He was lashing out.

I further used my Talent and enhanced my body again.

My muscles strained as the surge of power flooded through —but with that pain cos to as over using my talent.

But this ti I endure pain. I can faint here or caugh blood like normally I do.

So, I held on.

Tendons burned. Bones groaned. Veins throbbed like they were about to burst.

Because I had to.

Avi wasn't aiming anymore. He wasn't calculating. His strikes ca in jagged bursts, each one fueled by so twisted cocktail of love, grief, and hatred.

He raised his arm. A lance of light flared to life—unstable and shaking, a mockery of what it once was.

I ducked under it, feeling the heat graze my scalp, and slamd my fist into his ribs.

His breath hitched.

But he didn't fall.

Didn't even flinch.

He just scread.

"You think you're a hero?!" he bellowed, voice cracking. "You think exposing makes you right?! You're nothing!"

Another wild spell detonated from his hands—a wave of wind and pressure that blew through the courtyard like a bomb.

I gritted my teeth and grounded myself, aura flaring around my legs. The blast knocked back—but not far. Not this ti.

I recovered in a blink, then blurred forward.

"You're right," I muttered.

He blinked. Just for a mont.

"I'm not a hero."

My palm struck his sternum—hard. He staggered.

"I'm not so righteous fool out to save the world."

My elbow crashed into his jaw. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he stumbled back.

"I'm just soone who knows your true nature…"

My foot ca down, sweeping his legs from beneath him. He hit the ground hard, gasping.

"… That's why I am putting trash on it's place. A dustbin."

I grabbed him by the collar and slamd him back down before he could rise again.

Sparks of mana fizzled weakly around his hands—but the fight was leaving him now.

Bit by bit. Breath by breath.

His body was strong.

But his will?

It was fractured.

"You built your identity around a lie," I whispered. "Around a twisted, broken obsession. And you thought if you buried the truth deep enough, if you killed enough people, you could erase what you felt for her."

He flinched.

"But it didn't work, did it?"

I let go.

He didn't move.

For the first ti since the fight began, the mana around him began to recede—still glowing, but no longer surging with fury.

He was shaking.

"…She was everything," he rasped. "And they took her from ."

"They didn't take her," I said coldly. "She left Elf world because she wanted. Because she wanted to explore the world beyond her rel."

His head jerked toward , eyes bloodshot. But there was no fire left in them.

Only confusion. Grief.

"You rember it, don't you?" I pressed. "The last thing she said to you before she left for human world."

He didn't answer.

So I said it for him.

"I pity you."

He trembled.

And then—

"GET THE FUCK AWAY!"

He scread—raw, guttural. Mana exploded outward as he lashed at again, wild and unfocused.

The madness had consud him completely.

"I'll make her mine! I'll kill you! I'll kill Ryen and Leo—every human!"

He wasn't just unhinged—he was gone. A hollowed-out version of the man he once was, a vessel filled only with hatred and loss.

But that made this the perfect mont.

One I couldn't let slip away.

"Lan!" I called out.

The [Soulbound Staff]—which had shifted into blade form and fallen earlier when Avi had closed the distance—snapped back into my grip with a tallic hum, answering my call.

I didn't say a word.

Just breathed in.

And activated Reinforcent.

The ability woven into Lan's very essence—a versatile, all-purpose function that bordered on divine. If there was anything in my arsenal that could end this cleanly…

…it was this.

"Split. Sharpen."

In a blink, Lan extended—returning to its original 3-ter form.

Then, it splintered.

Countless shards broke off, morphing into blades, spears, and spikes that hovered around like a swarm of death.

Avi—snapped back into focus, maybe sensing sothing was wrong. His instincts kicked in. He pulled every defensive artifact he had left—bracelets, pendants, runes—all glowing with desperate light.

But it was useless.

Lan wasn't just a high-tier artifact—it was half-divine, crafted with divine essence. His protections cracked like glass under its presence.

Still, the swarm of blades wasn't ant to kill him.

It was bait.

I needed him to choose defense over evasion.

And he did.

He planted his feet, anchored by pride and madness both, trusting his artifacts to hold.

That was his last mistake.

The pain surged up my arms—the cost of drawing on Lan's full power. What little primal qi I had left burned at my core, draining fast.

'It hurts,' I thought.

But I wasn't the only one hurting.

He was more desperate than .

He had more to lose—and less to protect.

With his defenses still raised, I called Lan back. The countless shards fused into one—back into staff form—and I flung it high above him.

"Grow."

It expanded mid-air, stretching wider, heavier—casting a long shadow as it began to fall.

"…Ugh—!?"

He tried to dodge. Too late.

Most of his artifacts were already shattered, smoking at his feet. One barrier flickered up—then broke with a dull snap.

"Beco heavier."

The air warped as I layered command after command.

Lan crashed down like divine judgnt.

THUD—!!!

CRACK—!!!

The ground shattered beneath the impact. Dust erupted in all directions.

He staggered.

One knee slamd into the stone, his body buckling beneath the weight. Still not crushed—but close.

His breath hitched.

His arms trembled.

And that's when I decided—

It was ti to end this.

"Beco even heavier."

His eyes widened. "...Ughhhh?"

"Heavier."

A villain who had slaughtered dozens—no, hundreds—of people. A nightmare that haunted the protagonists from the very beginning.

He was a character created by my friend.

But I felt no sympathy.

Not anymore.

"I…!"

"Heavier. Heavier. Heavier…!"

His body creaked under the weight. The spell crushed down like a collapsing mountain, snapping the air with pressure.

"I can't die here…!" he roared, spitting blood. "*I'm this close—*she's about to be mine! I've waited years!"

Yeah.

There it was.

I felt it then—the shift.

[ Confird: This character plays a significant role in the main story. ]

Of course.

It would've been too easy otherwise.

His voice broke into a guttural growl. "She left our world. She gave her warmth to humans—filthy, fleeting things. If she could love them, why not ?!"

His fingers clawed into the dirt.

"She should've been mine. All of this… every death, every sacrifice—it was for her!"

He laughed—unhinged and shaking. "If I couldn't have her, then no one could! So I will make her existence. Eternal. Only for ."

He had failed to control her.

So he will try to own her.

And when he couldn't own her, he tried to destroy her and rebuild her as a puppet.

Obsession dressed up as love.

And now, as the last of his defensive artifacts shattered one by one under the crushing spell…

His aura twisted. Warped.

"Ha… There are things you don't understand… If you knew what my true Talent was, you would've hidden yours instead of flaunting it!"

Then it hit .

The artifacts weren't the reason Leo and Ryen failed to stop him.

No—it was this.

The thing awakening inside him now.

The reason he was called a "cheat."

His Talent.

His eyes locked onto mine, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

He smiled.

Reality around him began to bend.

He was about to break through.

Not because of hope.

But because he still believed—

She was waiting for him.

And he'd destroy the world to reach her.

I stared at him.

His body buckled beneath Lan's weight, mana flaring in jagged spikes that pulsed in every direction.

The ground around him cracked like an overripe shell, unable to bear the pressure of his unraveling self. But it wasn't over. I could feel it.

The shift had started.

And my heart sank.

The system ssage had been clear—"This character plays a significant role in the main story."

Which ant Avi's story wasn't supposed to end here.

Which ant he still had sothing left.

Sothing terrifying.

And then I saw it.

Not with my eyes, but with instinct.

The mana around him shimred. His aura twisted—spun—not like a spell or technique, but like sothing deeper. A restructuring. The spiritual equivalent of rewriting your own bones while still alive.

And I realized—

This is where it starts.

Avi's mouth curled into a smile—lips bloody, jaw cracked, but the expression on his face wasn't pained. It was triumphant.

"Do you feel it now?" he rasped, voice thick with sothing close to ecstasy. "My Talent... it's finally answering ."

I froze.

Not because I didn't know what was coming—

But because I did.

"…Copy," I whispered.

[S-Rank Talent: Perfect Replication]

That was its real na.

But everyone in the forums just called it "Copy."

Short, simple, completely unbalanced.

It let the user replicate up to three Talents from others… simultaneously. Not temporary skills. Not mimicry. Actual, functional replication.

And I knew from the novel—

That was the reason Leo and Ryen failed to kill him, over and over again.

Every ti they fought, he just took their strengths.

Ryen's [Holy Sword of Justice]—a mythical-grade Talent that allowed judgnt-based enhancents.

Leo's [Weapon Master]—an intuitive, adaptive fighting style that let him wield anything like it was an extension of himself.

Together, they were monsters.

Separately, they were strong.

But against Avi?

Avi made them kill each other's reflections.

Because he copied both.

...And now it's seems he going to copy my talent.