Aelthrie's Underground I — Virion

The last thing I could remember was passing out at the steps of the infirmary. Whatever malevolent energy had infiltrated my system had become the root of all my pains and therefore the source of my weakness.

Throughout my entire trip to the clinic, my vision had been going black slowly but surely. My consciousness had waned several times, but I pushed through the curse that held me in its grasp. I needed to bring Sylfie into the warm embrace of healing.

When I finally made it, I was an arrow at the end of my flight. I fell face-first into the stairs, which probably injured me even further.

But none of that was my concern.

Because now, I had to dig myself out of a pile of trash. I breached the surface, allowing a small avalanche of cans and bottles to fall and gasped for air.

Stale, dirty air thus poured into my lungs, making me retch. The foul scent that assaulted my senses made my eyes water. A stinging pain pierced the area around my left brow, and I instinctively touched it with my fingertips.

"Bandaged..?" I wondered out loud.

It did not take me another second before I realised that this wound was probably because I face-planted into the infirmary's concrete steps.

Then, immediately after touching my bandaged wound, my hands wandered towards my heavy front pocket. Putting my hand inside, I fished out a note and a pouch of coins. The note read,

[]=[]=[]

Virion Von Santos Sol. You murdered a student of Aethercaller.

On account of our mutual friend, Sylfie, I smuggled you out of campus and gave you the bare-minimum first aid you need. Even though the school's punishment would be bad, the nobles wouldn't let you off with anything less than death.

I hope you can appreciate this chance that I have given you. Do your best to hide from the sharp eyes of those eagles above and thrive in the underground world.

As for Sylfie... Frankly, her condition is bad. She is going to need a few specific healing treasures to make a complete recovery. It seems like she had some pre-existing injuries that have subsequently worsened because of your little fight.

If you care about your... dear friend... then do work hard to find something that can fix her.

This note comes with a pouch of coins. I hope it helps.

With best regards,

Caelum Phricius

PS. I've also had someone manage the escape of your guards and servants. They will not be targeted as long as I exist.

[]=[]=[]

"...That Caelum helped me?" I couldn't help but be sceptical of all this at first, but then I gave things a second thought.

I had left Jiontar to bleed out from an amputation, with no potions to make use of. It was likely that he really did die, and I was the main cause of his death.

I couldn't help but shiver. Would I have never woken up again if Caelum hadn't smuggled me out? It was practically certain that those vengeful nobles would have struck while the metal was hot and eliminated me while I was weak.

I wondered how he even got me out of Aethercaller if I was wanted for murder. How did he know so quickly? How did he adapt and react so swiftly?

And most importantly,

Was this really a part of his kindness?

Some part of me was telling me that my life from now on wasn't going to be fun. Caelum likely felt that keeping me alive was going to entertain him. With how the lad fought his battles, I was certain of this fact.

He was going to take utmost pleasure in the suffering I was going to go through.

"Unfortunately, I won't be giving you that pleasure," I muttered.

As a Sun Saint, I refused to become some kind of show for someone else to watch.

"All I have to do is hide from the eagles in the sky and thrive underground where they can't reach me, right?" I harrumphed as I brushed off a few sticky pieces of garbage. "How hard can that be?"

…

I just lost everything.

And by everything, I meant the only set of riches I had to my name, as well as my clothes. Caelum's pouch of coins was gone, and I was officially penniless.

I didn't know how, but it disappeared after a flash of mana whizzed passed me. I was targeted by some kind of spell, with no way to defend myself. After that, they took my cloak, then my shirt, trousers, and even my shoes.

Everything.

I had to use rags that smelled of stale water, rust, sweat, and vomit just to shield myself from the elements.

And when I did, my underwear joined the rest of my clothes and vanished into thin air. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"You bastards!" I roared, my face red from this humiliation, "If I find you, I will skin you all alive and boil you in oil!"

My shoulders bobbed up and down as I heaved heavy breaths. No one replied to my threats, and it seemed like I was treated as air.

These wretched, lawless, rascals—

I forced myself to calm down. I did not even know the strength of the thieves who had targeted me. If I came across some gang boss that was way above my pay grade, I would lose the second chance at life that Caelum had given me.

Thinking of Caelum and the note that had disappeared along with my shirt, I couldn't help but grit my teeth. Was he laughing at me right now? Were disdain, ridicule, and schadenfreude plastered across his hooded expression?

"Calm down, Virion," I tried to keep my frustrations under control, "You cannot lose yourself at this moment. You are a Sun Saint. A noble being. This place isn't where you should spend the rest of your life."