The Villain’s POV in the Academy

Chapter 207



Chapter 207

Chapter 207

Aaron suddenly recalled— a memory of a conversation he once had with Miyu.

—“If there were an Lv.6 Arcane Module, just how powerful do you think it would be? Hmm… That’s a tough question. You see, the module level system is a standard created by humans, after all.”

—“There’s a saying that age is just a number, right? In the same sense, many human-made standards are somewhat variable. Depending on the region, two people born on the same day could be nearly two years apart in age. Even the same thing can be measured differently depending on what system you use.”

—“It’s the same with modules. Technically, there’s a law stating Lv.1 is for civilian use, and anything Lv.3 or higher can be used for military purposes… but sometimes an Lv.2 industrial module performs just as well—or even better—than an Lv.3 military one. That’s because when assigning levels, the main evaluation factor isn’t ‘stability’ or ‘compatibility,’ but rather the ‘energy output upon activation.’”

—“In other words, there are times when something just makes a lot of noise but doesn’t perform up to its potential. Apparently, this was a big issue back when combat modules and nanomachines were first developed.”

—“But that’s an old story now. These days, they’re graded by much stricter standards. Especially Arcane Modules—they’re evaluated through a total of five tiers, carefully categorized by their possible uses.”

—“So Lv.5 is, in a way, the ‘highest tier.’ Like receiving an A out of A, B, C, D, and E. No matter how good a student’s grades are, they might get an A+, but never an S—because that grade simply doesn’t exist.”

—“Meaning, Lv.6 doesn’t exist either. Anything that exceeds a certain threshold is automatically rated Lv.5.”

—“Conversely—”

—“If something is rated Lv.6, that means it surpasses the boundaries of common sense.”

—“It might even be something humanity isn’t permitted to use.”

“Of course, that’s just my opinion,” Miyu had added casually as her explanation came to an end.

At the time, Aaron had simply thought, “So Lv.6 must be insanely strong,” and maybe “So strong it can’t even be used.” That was the extent of it.

But now— having finally equipped, for the first time in history, two different kinds of Lv.6 Arcane Modules, he finally understood what Miyu’s words had truly meant.

It wasn’t just that the performance had improved.

The threads of [Cloud Spider] hadn’t simply become tougher, or gained longer effective range, or more flexibility.

It wasn’t that kind of straightforward enhancement.

“This is something fundamentally different…”

That was Aaron’s first impression.

What was an Arcane Module, at its core?

Wasn’t it a tool forged through human imagination and technology from the source of Mystics called “Essence”?

A hammer, a gun, a blade— whatever its material or purpose, it was, in essence, something created by humans, for humans.

But Lv.6— these modules, created with the aid of this world’s “Creator,” had a completely different ratio between human technology and Mystic power.

Modules he had relied on countless times before now felt strangely foreign.

These weren’t made for humans like him anymore, but for beings on a higher plane of existence.

Perhaps even the mythic figures who received gifts from gods felt something similar. Entertaining that meaningless thought, Aaron snapped his fingers.

Snap!

At that instant, threads shot out from both the air and the floor.

Until now, the ends of [Cloud Spider]’s threads had always been connected to the tips of his black gloves—but that restriction had now vanished.

Countless threads bound Omega’s arms and legs.

Omega struggled desperately, but even he could not escape a power that defied physical laws.

“Uwaaaaaaaaah—!”

Like a man subjected to quartering, his limbs were forcibly spread apart. Suspended in midair in an X-shape, more threads shot toward him.

It looked as though a silver tide was swallowing a single man whole.

The threads that once couldn’t even scratch Omega’s skin now grew thinner, sharper—

slipping between his pores, burrowing inward.

They began to peel away each cell that formed his tightly bound tissues.

Sssssszzzzkk—!

The threads began dismantling Omega’s body on a cellular level.

Omega’s terrifying regenerative power restored each cell the instant it was torn apart, yet—unfortunately—it wasn’t enough.

Prometheus, chained to his mountain of stone, had the night to heal the liver that the eagle tore from him each day.

Omega was given no such mercy.

Without even a scream, he was slowly disassembled into fragments too small for the eye to see—then disassembled again.

First the skin, then the muscles, then the internal organs, blood vessels, nerves— and finally, the bones.

In a grotesque reverse-birth, Omega’s form continued to shrink. The enormous body that had once stood nearly two meters tall soon became no larger than a child, then the size of a fist… and in the end, it vanished completely.

The light faded.

The mysterious radiance that had poured down from the sky—where Omega once hovered—gradually lost its brilliance and disappeared as though it had never existed at all.

“……”

The flow of air returned.

The suffocating heat began to subside, and a wind blew in from the wasteland. That wind carried dust from the half-collapsed facility—foul air filled Aaron’s lungs.

“Kuhh…!”

Aaron coughed.

Of course, it wasn’t just because of the bad air. The breath he exhaled was heavy with blood. His entire body was scorched from overheating; even the mechanical retina inside his eyes seemed to have partially melted—his vision dimmed.

“Modules… offline…”

He muttered weakly, but even before he gave the command, every combat module and cyberware component in his body had already broken down, ceasing all function.

The real problem was that even the systems that could not afford to stop had done exactly that.

Damn it. I didn’t think it would come to this…

With great power came great responsibility, or so the saying went.

Maybe this was the price for grasping power that exceeded the limits of humankind so easily.

Of course, more than that—it was likely the result of having pushed himself too far before using the ticket.

Hhhhk… hhghk…

His breathing sounded wrong. There was probably something wrong with his lungs.

Aaron tried his best to stay conscious, but the dizziness was overwhelming. In the end, he collapsed flat onto the floor.

And there—at eye level—he saw someone.

Vladimir…?

Aaron’s body was in ruins, but Vladimir’s condition was even worse.

While his external wounds might not have been as severe, his body was changing. From both his torn clothes and bare skin, red plants were sprouting and blooming.

Mana intoxication…!

Exposed to massive amounts of mana, his cells were undergoing small-scale Otherworld transformations. He must have been hit directly by that torrent of light moments ago. If left alone, he would undoubtedly turn into a monster—or die.

You stupid bastard…!

Aaron had sent him outside to survive with his family, and yet the fool had come crawling back—only to end up like this.

I can’t let him die like this.

Logical reasoning didn’t matter anymore.

Aaron simply didn’t want to lose Vladimir like this. After all, wasn’t the reason he came here in the first place because of Aaron’s lies?

He might be a pathetic and foolish man in many ways, but he didn’t deserve a meaningless death like this.

Think… think!

How could one save someone poisoned by mana?

Aaron racked his brain, searching through every scrap of knowledge he possessed.

And then— a single idea flashed through his mind.

[Ciel!]

Aaron immediately contacted Ciel.

Thankfully, she answered right away.

[Y-Yes, Aaron?]

[Can you move right now?]

[I-I’m sorry! I’m hiding at the moment…]

[Benedict’s dead. It’s over.]

[Eh?]

Apparently, Ciel had survived within the facility, battered but alive. Parts of her body were damaged, but nothing critical. Not that it mattered—she was an android, so the concept of “life” itself was questionable.

Anyway—

[Restore the main computer Benedict was using! I don’t care how you do it—just get it running!]

[O-Okay…!]

She must have been curious about the reason, but Ciel didn’t ask. After ending the call, Aaron squeezed every last drop of strength left in his synthetic body and forced himself to stand.

Well—come to think of it, this body hadn’t exactly been raised on milk, had it? What should he call it instead—synthetic nutrient porridge?

Damn it, my brain’s not working right…

His condition was far from normal, and stray thoughts kept slipping out. But Aaron pushed them aside and hoisted Vladimir over his shoulder.

“Khk…!”

With great effort, he took one step forward.

Then another.

What would’ve taken only an instant with the help of his modules, he now crossed like a frail human— step by step, staggering— until at last, he reached the ruined laboratory.

When I arrived, Ciel had already finished restoring the computer.

I hadn’t realized it in the chaos, but it seemed it had taken quite a long time to get here.

“Ah, Lord Aaron, that appearance of yours...!”

[More importantly, the computer?]

Since I couldn’t breathe properly, I spoke through voice chat.

“Thankfully, the core components are still alive. But all the input and output devices are fried...”

[Be concise.]

“T-the computer’s main body is intact, but everything like the monitor and mouse is gone! There are no cable connectors either, so I can’t establish any connection!”

[The main body’s still working. Then that’s fine.]

With Ciel’s help, I carefully laid Vladimir down on the floor. I hadn’t noticed while carrying him all the way here, but his body had already undergone severe vegetative transformation.

There wasn’t much time left.

Barely holding onto the thin thread of my consciousness, I took another breath— and with the resolve to stop my own heart, I murmured,

“Module Online, [Black Out]...”

A black veil spread out from my body and flowed into the half-broken mechanical device.

It looked pitiful compared to usual, but that didn’t matter.

I immediately searched through the main computer’s data and reactivated the AI Miyu program.

Although AI Miyu originally belonged to Benedict, I twisted the user settings through the power of [Black Out].

Soon, AI Miyu, recognizing me as her new master, spoke.

[Hello, Mr. Aaron. How may I assist you?]

[Vladimir must be saved.]

[I’m sorry. All of my observation devices are currently destroyed, so I can’t check Mr. Vladimir’s condition. If it’s alright, may I borrow your eyes, Mr. Aaron?]

[Do it.]

Through my vision, AI Miyu observed Vladimir’s state. Her voice grew heavy as she spoke.

[His condition is critical. At this rate, his body can’t be saved. The mana corrosion rate is too high.]

[...Is there really no other way?]

[It seems his nervous system hasn’t been affected yet. If we extract his brain and place it in preservation fluid, we might be able to rebuild his body later. But the problem is...]

[The problem?]

[The facility is completely destroyed, so the extraction procedure can’t be performed. The preservation fluid can be made by combining the chemicals stored in Warehouse No. 363 on the southern side of the research facility, but... there’s currently no way to remove Mr. Vladimir’s brain.]

[...]

I stayed silent.

As if lost in thought.

I gasped for breath, maintaining that silence— then spoke.

[No, I can do it. I’ll do it myself.]

[Excuse me?]

AI Miyu sounded confused.

But I didn’t have the strength left to answer such questions.

If I wasted energy on needless talk, I might collapse before the operation was complete.

It was worth trying anyway.

Thinking that, I muttered one final command.

“Module Online... [Cloud Spider]...”


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