Aetherion Academia #1: Shadows of Rebirth のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

[Jaxon P.O.V] The orchestra had started playing again, but I couldn't hear it. Selene was saying something — her nails digging into my arm, her voice a mosquito whine about propriety and mockery — but it was static. White noise. My wolf had gone completely feral at the back of my skull, howling a single name I was too terrified to speak aloud. Lumira.*l She stood in the center of the hall like a violet flame, and every instinct I possessed screamed that I had made the worst mistake of my miserable life. The silver chains at her ankles chimed with each breath she took, a sound like judgment bells, and the floating crown of torn silk above her head caught the starlight like a broken halo she'd reclaimed from the gods themselves. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be in that bungalow, defeated, crying into a pillow while Selene wore her humiliation like a trophy. She was supposed to be the nothing I'd discarded, the nobody I'd stepped over on my way to the top. Ins

Moments later, Moon Tower, [Riven P.O.V] I watched her through the haze of moonlight and expensive whiskey, and for the first time in three centuries, I felt a pulse that had nothing to do with bloodlust. She was sitting on the edge of the stone table in the Moon Tower, her legs swinging with a casual, terrifying grace that made the violet silk of her dress ride up her thighs. A strange rose-like mark on her collarbone was pulsing a faint, bruised purple, matching the manic light in her eyes. "You're staring, Prince," she purred, tilting her head. The veil she'd used to haunt the ballroom was gone, tossed onto the dusty floor like an afterthought. Her silver hair was a mess of starlight and chaos. "It's hard not to stare at a train wreck, White Witch," I replied, my voice a low, predatory rasp. I stepped into the space between her knees, my hands resting on the cold stone on either side of her hips. "Most girls would be trembling after nearly triggering a Council execution. You

The next day, [Rina P.O.V] The morning air was thick with the scent of damp stone and the metallic tang of the ten percent Soul Erosion still gnawing at my chest. I smoothed the front of my red Ignis uniform. The heavy, high-collared fabric was stiff, smelling of new wool and expensive enchantment. My fingers traced the sharp gold buttons and the silver embroidery on the shoulder-cape, ensuring every thread was in place. I then reached up, checking the sleek black Alice band that held my silver hair. The waves cascaded down my back, perfectly managed, a stark contrast to the hollow, dead-eyed girl who had crawled out of that grave. I was just passing the western courtyard when the atmosphere shifted. The birds stopped singing. The wind died. Then, a sound like tearing silk ripped through the silence, followed by a roar that shook the very foundations of Aetherion Academy. From the top of the perimeter wall, a nightmare lunged. It was a Bao-Feng, a ruthless Eastern feline-beast t

Meanwhile, [Aurel P.O.V] High above the chaos of the western courtyard, the air in my private laboratory was cool, sterile, and smelled faintly of ozone and old parchment. I didn't need to be down in the mud to see the world. A shimmering, crystalline projection floated in the center of the room, casting a pale blue light over my features as it replayed the scene below in high definition. I watched the silver-haired witch move. She was a debacle - a beautiful, jagged error in the fundamental laws of magic. She shouldn't have been able to summon that scythe. The weight of the Mors Aeterna should have crushed her soul into dust, yet she swung it like she was reclaiming a lost limb. "Simply marvelous," Marcus, my butler and a second-year prodigy in his own right, murmured from behind me. He adjusted his spectacles, his eyes glued to the projection. "The way Lady Lumira anticipated the Bao-Feng's trajectory... it wasn't just instinct. It was strategic brilliance. And that Elven Prince

Moments later, [Rina P.O.V] I checked the time on the runic clock hovering in the hallway. I was cutting it close, but the ten percent Soul Erosion was playing nice for once, leaving me with nothing but a dull, manageable ache in my marrow. I was halfway to the combat arena when I saw him. Austin was leaning against a marble pillar, looking like he had been ripped straight out of a high-fashion editorial. Before breakfast, he had been a whirlwind of blood and black military tactical gear, a lethal shadow in the moonlight. Now he was the embodiment of Ventus House sophistication. He wore a tailored, double-breasted suit in a vibrant, sun-drenched Ventus Yellow, the fabric shimmering with a subtle metallic thread that caught the light with every breath he took. The sharp gold piping along his lapels matched the Elven crest on his chest, and his silver hair was pulled back into a sleek warrior's knot that made his cheekbones look sharp enough to draw blood. He looked unfairly, dang