Chapter 209
Chapter 209
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 209
Chapter Title: Different Paths
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After making a promise with the Saint, Astraia, Krash set off.
The outside was still bustling with countless students actively recruiting for their own divisions.
And among them, one division stood out the most.
The single division drawing the largest crowd.
The White Poplar Division.
It belonged to none other than the Third Princess, Sigrin Epania.
As if all her past efforts hadn't been in vain.
Sigrin's reputation had soared to its peak, commanding a massive following.
'What that guy's been up to lately.'
Like resolving the dispute between students and associate professors.
Apparently, after the Jenicalen associate professor incident, she'd torn down the emotional walls that had formed.
And during the magic tool maker Rona Imblaze incident.
She'd shown up at the seminary late, but still.
She'd helped Taria, the bell ringer of Crimson Garden, in her clash with Mirei Beakis.
Thanks to Sigrin, Mirei Beakis had wrapped things up safely before the professors arrived.
Moreover, in the chaos that followed at the seminary, Sigrin had taken an active role in cleanup.
She'd even personally carried injured students to safety, just in case.
The seminary students had been deeply moved by her relief efforts.
'What a load of crap.'
Krash covered his mouth as nausea suddenly hit him.
Lately, Krash had been busy with external activities.
Meanwhile, Sigrin, whose external ops had slowed, focused on internal ones.
She knew full well this was prime time to absorb promising second-intake students.
So she'd deliberately paused outside work to prioritize inside the academy.
Krash clicked his tongue.
Typical of that cunning woman—quick to seize any edge.
While the White Poplar Division hustled to pull in second-intake recruits.
The Lion Division was nowhere to be seen at promo spots.
Yet the Lion Division still drew join requests rivaling White Poplar's.
The reason was simple.
Because Krash was with Charlotte.
Sigrin's stock had risen, sure.
But Krash's name had skyrocketed even higher.
His fame naturally boosted the Lion Division he belonged to.
Second-intake students flocked there as a result.
Krash was the undisputed center of the second intake, after all.
'What to do.'
Krash didn't put much stock in the divisions themselves.
No matter how they split into groups.
Time would sort the standouts—they'd end up in the Generation of the Sky anyway.
But leading at the forefront of that Generation was another matter.
Even an eternal star needed starlight to shine; without it, it meant nothing.
'Especially want to poach those first-intake guys who went to Sigrin.'
As Krash rubbed his chin thinking that.
He spotted something massive thudding down the hallway ahead.
Naturally, Krash tilted his head up.
He had to crane his neck back just to see the guy's face.
"Yaaah! Finally met ya again!"
A booming voice echoed through the corridor.
Krash knew exactly who this was.
Deep green eyes.
Distinct tattoos etched across his body.
Perea's son, destined to join the Generation of the Sky later.
Fighting Emperor
Arsold Perea
The guy somehow looked even bulkier than before.
"Arsold."
After their fight, he'd vanished into the mountains to train, apparently.
Looked like he'd wrapped it up and come back.
Spotting Krash, he flexed his muscles through his clothes and grinned wide.
"Krash, I've gotten way stronger since last time. Let's go another round."
His aura was definitely fiercer than before.
Proof his training had paid off, as he claimed.
"Sure, let's."
Too bad—this side had grown leaps beyond that.
In that instant, Krash's figure scattered.
By the time Arsold lunged after the afterimage, it was too late.
Krash's fist was already pressed to his gut.
"If you can tank this."
Then, intangible energy surged from within Krash's body.
The moment Four Seasons unified even World Erosion's power into aura.
The intangible force unleashed output beyond anything before.
Disaster Dragon Descent
Second Form: Strength
Boom!
Arsold's massive frame launched into the air.
Huge as he was, Krash's punch sent him flying down the hall.
Arsold's eyes bulged.
Not just because Krash vanished—his punch hit dimensions harder than before.
Even midair, Arsold twisted to right himself.
But Krash's assault didn't end with one hit.
Boom!
A second strike hammered him harder than the first.
Krash's favorite secret art.
"Guhk!"
Arsold spat out a choked groan from the combo.
The first had been a close call; the second sealed it.
Crash!
Arsold tumbled across the floor without even a proper roll.
His sheer size made the racket echo loud.
But he sprang back up instantly.
Mad battle-lust gleamed in his eyes.
"Heh, heh, I... I tanked it."
And that was it.
His eyes rolled back white, and he faceplanted.
Krash dusted his hands lightly.
With anyone else, he'd try talking first—but this was Arsold.
He knew fists were the only language that worked, so he'd smashed without mercy.
That oughta keep him quiet for a while.
As Krash turned to walk away.
At the hallway entrance Arsold had come from.
A man stood there.
Krash's gaze sharpened slowly upon seeing him.
Long golden blond hair like someone else's.
Yet more delicately feminine—a androgynous face.
'Fake Arthur.'
The one who'd infiltrated Raheln Academy pretending to be Arthur Gramalte.
And he was tied to the Red Witch, Abella.
Their eyes locked for a beat.
Thoughts raced through Krash's mind, but he soon flashed a casual grin.
"Arthur Gramalte, right? Arsold wanted it that way. Don't blame me."
Krash and Fake Arthur had barely spoken before.
He'd built some rapport with other special class kids, but Fake Arthur stuck to himself despite being in it.
All Krash knew: Fake Arthur had held off on Lion Division recruitment.
So as Krash eyed him quizzically, Fake Arthur stepped forward steadily.
"You've gotten much stronger than before."
Loaded words.
"Yeah, been busy."
Krash tossed back something equally pointed.
He knew info from Fake Arthur was limited anyway.
"But 'before'? We're not that close, are we?"
Krash smirked provocatively, like What do you think you know?
"True, not close."
Fake Arthur agreed readily.
He was right in front of Krash now.
Their eyes met again.
One thing Krash knew for sure.
Whatever else, Fake Arthur's eyes were as inscrutable as the real one's.
Arthur was a man of secrets.
"Still, it's surprising. Never thought you'd wield aura."
Krash's body twitched instinctively at those words—but he held it.
His face screamed, What the hell?
Fake Arthur's expression didn't shift.
"Makes sense, though. World Erosion power alone wasn't enough. Not then... not now."
That stabbed deep.
Krash fought to keep his face neutral.
Not then... not now.
No need to overthink the meaning.
Fake Arthur was saying: Across countless regressions, Krash had mastered Extreme Blood Poison Infusion to wield World Erosion's power.
And with it, he'd fought world destruction.
But Arthur had regressed.
Meaning—in that loop, Krash had failed to stop the end.
'Bullshit.'
Krash's mind rejected it instantly.
The Arthur from loops he'd known didn't exist here.
Black Hood had stolen his regression; he'd died in the ruined world.
This guy was just probing.
To see if Krash was a regressor.
Digging into his psyche with Abella's intel.
Lame ploy.
Provoking his temper on purpose, probably.
"Hey."
So Krash played the hothead Abella knew so well.
"What the fuck you keep babbling about?"
Whoosh!
Black Flame erupted from Krash's body.
With Four Seasons converting it to World Erosion, the flames burned fiercer than ever.
No Arthur Krash knew existed in this world.
He knew that better than anyone.
"Back off if you don't wanna die. Or end up like him."
Krash jabbed a thumb at downed Arsold—a warning.
Don't overstep, fake.
Fake Arthur glanced at Arsold, then turned casually.
No fear on his face.
"See you in the Lion Division."
With that, he left.
Crimson Garden's voice rang out; Krash tsked.
Fake Arthur had soured his mood and bailed.
Crimson Garden's crow perched by the open window.
Krash stared that way and stated the obvious.
"Extracting info ain't one-sided."
The guy said he'd join Lion Division.
That alone was a declaration of sorts.
Fine, come on.
I'll strip you bare and expose Abella's whole scheme.
Krash turned and headed down the opposite hall.
Exact reverse of Fake Arthur's path.
Their roads might've diverged long ago.
On the now-empty corridor they'd both left.
Only unconscious Arsold rolled lonely in the dust.