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Chapter 20: The Noble Death

  Chapter 20: The Noble Death

  "Shoot, you damn fool!" Alessandro yelled.

  "I shot!" Kairo yelled back, throwing the game controller. "The game turned against us because we were about to win!"

  I laughed. "You two won't defeat me and my woman, even if a thousand years pass."

  Clara laughed next to me on the couch, her face flushed with excitement. "I don't want to play this stupid game anymore," Kairo said, opening a bag of potato chips. "When is the damn twenty-seventh part coming out?"

  This was my new life. A life I wouldn't have dreamed of. Alessandro, my rival, had become part of our group, spending most of his time in my apartment, fighting with Kairo like brothers. Kairo remained the same lazy, cheerful Kairo. And Clara... my woman was by my side. For the first time in years, I felt like I was living, not just surviving.

  Even Mateo had returned. I saw him several times in the corridors. He wore a shiny metallic prosthetic hand, and he was no longer the same person. That sharp arrogance was gone, replaced by a sad calm. He was isolated, but he still carried himself with that noble pride.

  It was a stormy night. The winds howled like hungry wolves, and the rain lashed the windows mercilessly. It reminded me of that night.

  I slept, and I dreamed. The same dream. Darkness, the sword, and the cutting. But this time, I was cold. Very cold, like the heart of a dead star. My emotions were completely numb, but I was still cutting, and cutting, and cutting.

  I woke up with a strange feeling of anticipation, as if the whole world was holding its breath. I looked at the storm outside. I could hear its drums, the rhythm of an ancient and coming war.

  Suddenly, a sharp, piercing sound blared throughout the Academy. An alarm I had never heard before. And at the same moment, I heard the sound of glass shattering in the living room.

  I jumped out of bed, grabbing the Sword of Life, which was always beside me. I rushed out and saw him.

  It was a person dressed completely in black, with a horribly smiling white and red clown makeup on his face, carrying a black sword!!!

  He looked at me and started laughing. A hysterical, loud, and mad laugh. "We are the 'Jacobins.' And we have come to punish this world."

  The Jacobins. The same name and a sword? I thought I was the only one in the world who used swords.

  "Punish the world?" I laughed. "You are nothing more than dogs hired by noble families when their hands get dirty."

  The smile faded from the clown's face. "That's no longer funny." And he launched a wave of black fire toward me.

  I cut the attack easily and lunged at him. The man started using Shadow magic. His shadows were devouring the furniture, devouring the light, but they couldn't devour me. I manipulated reality for a moment, appeared behind him, and with one swift movement, cut off his head.

  "Too weak," I said, looking at the fallen body.

  Suddenly, the severed head on the floor started laughing. "We will punish the world, oh 'First Magic Swordsman,' and not the last. O harbinger of the world's destruction."

  I stabbed his head again with the sword. "Fool."

  Then I froze. "Clara!"

  I broke my window glass and jumped. I didn't care about the fall. I broke the glass of her window and entered like a storm.

  "Clara!"

  I found her in the living room. She was standing over the corpse of another clown. His body fell, and Clara began to vomit violently, coughing, and shaking.

  I ran to her. "Clara! What's wrong? Did he do anything to you?" I was scared. I didn't understand.

  "Deo... I... I killed someone. A living person. I killed him," she cried out. She looked at me, her eyes filled with pure terror. "Don't you feel anything? Don't you feel anything when you kill humans?"

  I was silent. I didn't feel anything. Why should I care about someone who tried to kill her? He got what he deserved.

  "I... I'm sorry," she said, crying. "But I just... I can't."

  I hugged her tightly. "And that's what I love about you, Clara. That you are kind."

  "Enough romance!" Kairo's voice came as he entered through the broken window. "They attacked everyone!"

  We went down quickly and met Isabella, who was wearing ridiculous red pajamas, Alessandro, and Mateo, whose eyes were cold as frost. We decided to go to the main plaza to maybe find out something. On our way, we saw a dead student in the corridor, lying in a pool of his own blood. Clara gasped and clung to me harder.

  We reached the entrance of the main plaza. We stopped. There was only silence. A heavy, sticky silence, broken only by the sound of the falling rain. Then we smelled the scent. The smell of a slaughterhouse. Coppery, sharp, and sickening.

  We entered the plaza.

  It was a massacre. A painting drawn by the Devil himself. Students who were laughing hours ago were now lying like broken dolls, in unnatural angles, their eyes frozen in expressions of final horror. A broken pair of glasses here. A single shoe there. An open book, its pages stained with blood. And on the elegant lampposts, four severed heads were hung, staring at us with empty eyes, the rain dripping from their hair like tears.

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  Then we saw movement. A student was crawling, trying to escape. For a moment, hope flickered. But a clown, who was standing calmly in the shadows, moved toward him slowly. He raised his black sword, and with one movement, quiet, and almost artistic, separated his head from his body. The head rolled and stopped at our feet.

  In that moment, the terror inside me turned to ice.

  "I will kill them all," I whispered.

  They attacked us. But suddenly, a meteor fell from the sky and crushed them. It was Gabriel. Beside him, Mattias arrived, carrying Sophie in his arms.

  "We are isolated," Gabriel said. "There is a barrier covering the Academy."

  At that moment, six new clowns appeared. They were wearing white and all had a single broken star, and one of them, standing in the middle, had a different aura, but also had a broken star. The strange thing about them was not their level, but that you couldn't feel any energy from them, as if they were energy-less like me.

  "Run now!" Mattias yelled. "They are beyond your level!"

  But it was too late. The clown in the middle moved. He wasn't fast; he was instantaneous. In an instant, his hand was gripping Clara's neck. "A servant... in the ranks of the elite?" he said in an amusing voice.

  My mind stopped. The hand. On her neck. The memory. My mother's severed head. But this time, it was Clara's head.

  A cold, dark aura exploded from me. And a voice started screaming in my ear.

  Cut. Cut the world. Cut. Cut. Cut!

  I attacked.

  The world around me dissolved. There was no plaza, no rain, no friends. There was only a red fog, moving targets, and one command echoing in my empty mind. Cut.

  I saw darkness trying to devour me, and I cut it. I heard screams, and I cut them. I felt pain, and I cut it. I was a machine. A cutting machine.

  Suddenly, I felt a strong touch on my shoulder. I turned to cut it.

  "You killed them a long time ago, you bastard! Wake up!" It was Mattias.

  "What... happened? Where am I?"

  "Shut up, you damn fool, and come on!"

  I looked around. The plaza was full of traces of deep cuts. Four of the white clowns were sliced into pieces. And the main clown... was just a bloody spot on the ground.

  "How long... have I been cutting the air?"

  "A long time!" Mattias said. "One of them disappeared! Gabriel told me to wake you up and go after him!"

  We started running. I didn't remember anything. Just the cutting.

  At the end of the corridor, we found Gabriel. He was standing like a statue, tears silently running down his face, as he watched.

  Mateo was fighting the last white clown. "Fighting" was a generous word. He was merely enduring. His body was a mass of open wounds, and his prosthetic arm was shattered. He could barely stand, anchoring himself to the ground with his magic, refusing to fall.

  The clown was dancing around him, toying with him. "Get up, little noble!"

  "You damned bastard, help him!" Mattias yelled as he lunged.

  Gabriel grabbed him. "No. He asked me not to intervene. He said... a true noble does not run. And that... he would not let his honor be stained twice."

  We watched in silence, helpless, a man dying with honor.

  Mateo gathered all his remaining will into one final attack. A simple earthen spear, but it was filled with all his pride. The spear pierced the chest of the surprised clown, killing him.

  An absolute silence fell, broken only by the sound of Mateo's dying breaths. He slowly turned, and looked at me.

  "Too bad," he said, a bloody, cynical smile appearing on his lips. "I wanted to kill you myself... But... I'll go a little early. Remember my name... Deo. I am... Mateo Eisingard... I followed the path of nobility... and I died by the path of nobility."

  He closed his eyes. And for a moment, his body remained standing, defying death. Then, the last light went out of his eyes. And he died. Standing.

  Mattias collapsed to his knees.

  "Come on," Gabriel said quietly, forcing himself, and stood up, wiping his tears with anger. "Let's continue our path! Why are you crying, you barbaric fool?" he yelled at Mattias. "We still have others to protect!"

  Gabriel, Mattias, and I ran at our top speed until we reached the barrier building. We pushed our way in with difficulty and found everyone waiting there. They were extremely calm, as if they knew what had happened to Mateo without us telling them. Sophia took some time focusing with all her strength, then managed to break the protective barrier that was preventing us from moving forward, paving the way to save those who remained.

  The sky wasn't raining, but it was crying. A thick gray cloud covered the entire cemetery, blocking the sun, casting somber shadows on everything. The air was cold and heavy, carrying the smell of damp earth and the white lilies adorning the place.

  We all stood in the nobles' section of the Eisingard family cemetery, silent. Hundreds of people, dressed in black formal attire, their faces pale and shocked. The professors, the heads of the Five Great Families, and even my father, Corvus, were there. There was no whisper, no talking. There was only the rustling sound of leaves, and the sound of muffled weeping that tore through the silence.

  It was Mateo's mother. She was broken, clinging to the polished ebony coffin, her face drenched in tears. She wasn't screaming, but whimpering, a painful moan, like a wounded animal who had lost its young. Her whimpers reached the bone, making the grief a palpable thing that could be tasted in the air.

  Beside her stood Ulrich Eisingard, Mateo's father. He wasn't crying. He stood tall like a spear of ice, his hands clasped behind his back, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. His eyes weren't looking at the coffin; they were staring at the distant horizon. There was no sadness in them, but something older and more dangerous. There was a cold promise of vengeance, an icy fire that would burn the world to find those responsible. His quiet rage was more terrifying than any scream.

  Ulrich slowly turned and looked at Mattias. He didn't say anything, but his question hung heavy in the air.

  "Did he die as a noble?"

  Mattias could no longer hold it in. The dam holding back his emotions burst. His body shook, and hot tears started running down his face for the first time in front of people.

  "Mateo Eisingard died a noble among nobles!" he shouted, his voice a mix of pain and torn pride. "He died killing invaders! He died defending his honor! He died standing! He is a true noble! And let anyone who dares to say otherwise come and say it to my face!"

  As if his words were a signal.

  The attending members of the Eisingard family began to chant. It started as a low, rhythmic, and powerful chant. Then it rose, growing stronger, until it became a black roar that shook the earth.

  "Follow the path of nobility and live by it! Follow the path of nobility and live by it!"

  It was a mourning, terrifying in its unity and strength. They weren't crying. They were declaring their identity, their honor, the truth that death would not break them.

  I looked at the coffin. Mateo. The arrogant bastard, the dirty bully. I hated him. But he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to end up as a memory in a coffin, as a chant at a funeral. He was human, and in his final moments, he was a hero.

  I watched the Eisingard family, their unity in their grief and anger was like an impregnable fortress. Then I looked at my father, Corvus. He was standing a little distance away from the others, alone, his face a cold mask that showed nothing. There was no sadness, no anger, only emptiness.

  In that moment, I understood. The Eisingard family, with all its cruelty and pride, was a real family. They loved each other, and they died for each other. As for me... all I had was this empty man who shared my blood.

  But I no longer felt envy. I had found my own family. A family of friends, and an outcast wearing a cloak.

  All the respect today, in this cemetery, was for one person.

  Mateo Eisingard. The true noble.

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