The Strongest Student of the Weakest Academy - Chapter 273

Chapter 273: Aestrea Against The World (L)

The storm had passed.

Silence stretched across the battlefield like a suffocating veil.

The sky, once torn apart by light and screams, now hung quiet, painted in hues of fading gold and ash-gray clouds.

The wind was still thick with iron and smoke, carrying the scent of burnt feathers and blood.

All around Aestrea, the ground was buried beneath a graveyard of white.

Wings… thousands of them.

Torn, broken, bloodied.

Some were still twitching faintly, nerves spasming even though their owners were nothing but scattered flesh.

Blades of holy light flickered weakly, like dying embers in a sea of blood.

The once divine army of heaven was reduced to a carpet of corpses and feathers, piled high around a single figure who still stood at the center.

Aestrea.

His chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven bursts.

Each breath rattled out of him like it might be his last.

His silver aura, once burning bright enough to erase heaven’s light, now sputtered and cracked around him.

Blood coated him, his own and theirs. His hands dripped with it, streaks running down his arms to the tips of his fingers.

His hair clung to his face, plastered there by sweat and gore. Even his eyes, glowing faintly silver, looked dimmer now.

“…Hhhahhh—”

He bent forward slightly, and a hand pressed against his ribs.

His body was full of wounds, deep gashes that hadn’t closed, punctures that still oozed, bruises swelling across his pale skin.

Each one screamed with pain, but he didn’t collapse.

His gaze drifted across the battlefield.

Angels, thousands of them, once a flawless army of heaven, now nothing more than blood and ruin.

Their brilliance was gone, replaced by the dark stillness of death.

He exhaled slowly, silver breath spilling from between his teeth. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke, but it was loud enough to reach the entire world.

“…Is this all heaven has…?”

Rustle…

No answer came.

Aestrea lowered his head, eyes half-lidded, his body trembling faintly from strain. For the first time in this battle, he seemed a little human.

FWOOOM!

The SSS-rankers who were watching the battle finally descended, spreading around Aestrea in a circle.

Each one of them represented their part of the world, along with its strongest warrior.

The Elven Emperor from the Elven Nation…

The Dwarf King from the Dwark Kingdom…

The Beast King from the Beastkin Kingdom…

And finally…

Christina from the Holy Nation.

The only people who were missing were from the Human Kingdom and the Demon Kingdom, but of course, none of them would try to stop Aestrea.

It could be said that right now, it was a battle where…

Aestrea was against the world.

“A-ah… this situation is kinda funny,” Aestrea chuckled lightly, as he wiped his bloodied lips.

His gaze swept over them.

“The famous SSS-rank awakeners… the ones the world praises, the ones they kneel to…” His smile thinned, turning cold.

“…and all I see are rats.”

The insult hung in the air, sharp enough to draw blood on pride alone.

“Rats, is it? Funny. From where I’m standin’, you look more like a cornered mutt.” The Dwarf King spat into the dirt, looking at Aestrea like he was nothing.

“I’ll enjoy bashin’ your skull in, boy.” His hand tightened on his hammer until the metal groaned.

On his side, the Beast King bared his fangs, lips curling into a predatory grin.

“You reek of blood, human. You’re strong.. But now, you can barely stand. You’ve lost the hunt, and now… you’ll be devoured by us.”

The Elven Emperor simply sighed, shaking his head slighly, not wanting to say anything.

As for Christina… she remained silent.

Her hands trembled faintly, her holy aura flickering as she stared at Aestrea. Her lips were slighly parted as if to speak, but no words came.

BOOOOM!

The three kings tightened their circle, their auras flaring in unison. The air grew heavy, pressing down on Aestrea like a mountain.

But he only smirked, his eyes dim yet burning with the same silver aura.

“Rats… mutts… predators…” He laughed under his breath, the sound soft and ragged, yet strangely amused.

“Call yourselves what you want. In the end…” His silver aura flickered faintly, weak but stubborn.

“…you’re just corpses waiting to be piled on top of the rest.”

BAAM!

The Beast King’s lips pulled back into a snarl, his golden eyes blazing.

“You dare call me a corpse?!” His voice shook the air as his claws gleamed like blades.

“Someone like you who is about to die, doesn’t even deserve last words!”

Fwoop!

He leapt forward, the ground cracking under his weight. His claws came down, fast and savage, aiming straight for Aestrea’s throat.

But Aestrea didn’t flinch at his movement.

“Lumi.”

FWOOOSH!

A scythe burst into existence in his hand, dark and heavy, its blade dripping with silver light.

SWWIISSHH—!!

Before the Beast King’s claws could reach him, Aestrea swung once.

SPLURT!

Blood sprayed high into the air.

“ARGHHHHH!”

The Beast King roared in pain as his right hand spun off, severed clean at the wrist.

His claws hit the dirt, twitching.

But just as quickly…

CRRRRK!

Bone cracked, muscle twisted, and flesh regrew in seconds. A new hand burst out from the stump, claws longer, sharper than before.

His roar only grew louder, shaking the battlefield.

“You dare wound me?! You’ll regret it!” His mane bristled like fire, his body swelling with rage as golden energy poured from him in waves.

“Tsk…”

Aestrea clicked his tongue as he saw both the Elven Emperor and the Dwark King moving as well.

Aestrea’s body screamed with pain. His silver aura flickered, weaker with every breath.

And his chaos energy… was almost gone.

Still, he lifted the scythe.

WHOOSH!

The Beast King’s claws slashed down at the same time the Dwarf King’s hammer swung sideways, the air breaking from the impact.

Aestrea twisted his body, scythe cutting across.

CLANG!

The scythe locked with the hammer, the shockwave blasting dust everywhere. The Beast King came from the other side—

SWIISSHHH!

Claws tore across Aestrea’s chest, ripping flesh and spraying blood.

“Ghh—!” He hissed through his teeth, staggering, but didn’t fall. His scythe lashed out, catching the Beast King across the stomach.

SPLAT!

The cut tore deep, but again, the flesh stitched itself back together with golden light.

“Not enough!” The Beast King’s grin was wild, blood dripping from his fangs.

Before Aestrea could answer,

BOOOOM!

A wall of green energy smashed down, the Elven Emperor’s magic exploding like roots wrapping around Aestrea’s legs.

Vines twisted tight, glowing runes binding them.

“Your mana reserves are ending,” the Emperor said coldly. “You won’t last long.”

The Dwarf King stepped in, hammer spinning with both hands, aiming for Aestrea’s skull.

CRASHH!

At the last moment, Aestrea tore free, the scythe catching the hammer head-on. Sparks flew as the ground cracked under his feet.

He staggered back, panting hard, blood dripping down his side. But his eyes… still glowed faint silver.

“You’ll need… more than this,” he muttered.

The Beast King lunged again, and this time, the three pressed him at once.

Claws, hammer, and spells rained down together. Aestrea’s body blurred as he twisted, blocking, cutting, dodging by inches.

Every strike shook the battlefield.

CLANG!

BOOM!

SLASH!

Blood poured from his arms, his legs, his chest. Yet with every strike he took, he gave another back, tearing flesh, breaking bone, even if it healed seconds later.

The fight was a storm, and still he stood in the center of it.

But then, the other SSS-rank awakeners who had been standing back began to move.

“Christina!” the Elven Emperor barked.

“Fight, or he’ll kill us all!”

Christina’s hands trembled, her holy light wavering.

“No… I…” She shook her head, biting her lip.

The others didn’t wait.

One of them stepped forward, her entire body burning with violet fire, hotter and brighter than anything normal.

Her eyes glowed red as the flames wrapped her like a cloak.

She raised her hands, and the fire twisted into a spear.

“Then I’ll go first.”

FWOOSH!

She hurled the spear straight at Aestrea.

He turned just in time, swinging his scythe, cleaving the spear in half:

BOOOOM!

But the explosion of violet fire swallowed him whole, burning hotter than the sun.

The shockwave ripped the ground apart, wings and corpses scattering in every direction.

When the fire faded, Aestrea was still standing, chest heaving, his skin burned and blackened, blood pouring from his wounds.

His scythe shook in his grip.

Yet his eyes still burned silver.

“…Heh.” He coughed blood and smiled.

“Not bad.”

The Beast King roared, claws ready again.

The Dwarf King lifted his hammer. The Elven Emperor’s runes flared brighter. And the woman of violet fire stepped closer, flames raging hotter with each breath.

The circle tightened.

And Aestrea, battered and broken, only lifted his scythe higher. His eyes remained as determined and calm as always.

“Come on then…” His voice was hoarse, but enough to reach them.

“…all of you.”