"Quitting the Unity College of System Studies"

Snake Calendar, Year 2025

28th Day of November, Friday Morning

The Inner City of Nova Asta, Inner Wellness Complex

Patient Room 7555 (Winchester Patient Room)

Accel's physical wounds had healed, but the trauma lingered, a gnawing uncertainty about his sanity. The memory of the brutal massacre, the chilling sensation of death, the phantom pain in his chest where the enemy's blow had landed, the image of blood flowing – it all threatened to shatter his mind. He'd witnessed the slaughter of everyone around him, a merciless act perpetrated by a heavily armored figure whose power defied comprehension.

The hospital was a hotbed of fear. Patients, plagued by vivid nightmares of instant death, murmured in their sleep, reliving the horror. Sleep offered no respite; the nightmares relentlessly pursued them. Even the combined efforts of the Churches and the Magic Institute proved futile. The origin of these terrifying dreams remained a mystery, their power defying all known methods of dispelling them.Hope arrived in the form of an envoy from the Sanctuary of the Luminescent Faith, a globally recognized religious order renowned for its dedication to humanity's protection and well-being. Supported by the Supreme Pope and the Saintess of Luminescent Faith, and acknowledged by the Worldwide Continental Alliance (though support from the independent Northern Continent was limited), the Sanctuary's influence was widespread.

A large group of High Priests entered the hospital and began a sacred ritual. Their chanting resonated through the building as a massive, glowing holy circle materialized beneath them. As the ritual reached its crescendo, a surge of light erupted, washing over the patients. The nightmares vanished, replaced by a peaceful slumber. Accel, having just finished a shower and braced himself for another night of terror, felt the oppressive weight lift. For the first time since the attack, he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Snake Calendar, Year 20251st Day of December, Monday Morning

The Inner City of Nova Asta, Unity College of System Studies

Auditorium of Unity

The return to Unity College was marked by a heavy atmosphere of despair. It wasn't the looming midterm exams that cast a pall over the students, but the shared trauma they had endured. A significant number of first-year students were absent, unable to face the world after their harrowing experience. Some remained confined to their homes, others to hospital beds, seeking solace and recovery even after the High Priests from the Sanctuary of Luminescent Faith had performed their sacred rituals. Rumors circulated that many first-years were considering dropping out or taking a year off to cope with the psychological fallout.

In the auditorium, Director Bramwell Kingswell addressed the student body. His presence itself was significant, as he had been absent during the midterm exam instructors. Visibly shaken by the widespread suffering he witnessed – the lingering effects of the traumatic event, whether manifesting in nightmares or waking hallucinations – Director Kingswell offered a heartfelt apology. He acknowledged the unexpected nature of the attack, admitting they had never anticipated a cult targeting the college during the exams.

After that, students either went back to their classes or just headed to the Unity of Academic Student Affairs, because they wanted to drop out of school and will come back next school year until they have recovered from their trauma, with the permission of Accel's parents, he will also drop out and will concentrate on his Adventurer Career in becoming stronger instead of staying on bed and let that nightmare keep haunting him.

After waiting for hours due to many students dropping out due to the same reason the trauma they had going on, the Unity of Academic Student Affairs approved Accel's drop out to the Unity College as he went home and told his parents. And with that, he slept peacefully as he hoped for... As he opened his eyes, his first strange dream appeared on a huge vast grassland, very different from the nightmare he had.

He walked across this seemingly endless expanse, the edges of the dream world remaining stubbornly distant. Then, in the distance, he saw it: the massive, armored figure. Even in the dream, Accel's legs began to tremble. The figure, clad in imposing armor, stood motionless, a sword planted firmly in the ground before it. As Accel cautiously approached, he realized the armor was empty. It knelt, the sword pointed down, its gauntleted hands gripping the hilt.

As Accel's fingers brushed against the cold, metallic surface of the armor in his dream, a blinding flash of light engulfed him. He blinked, his eyes fluttering open, and found himself back in his bed. It was just a dream, he told himself, a strange, vivid dream. But as he turned his head, his breath caught in his throat. Lying beside him, gleaming in the dim morning light, was the very same sword he had seen in his dream. He scrambled back, tumbling out of bed and landing heavily on the carpet, his head thumping against the floor. A sharp pain shot through his skull, a less fantastical, but very real as the next day happened upon waking up.

After a few moments to collect himself, Accel cautiously approached the sword. He reached out and, with a strange sense of inevitability, added it to his inventory. He remembered now, a similar sword, or perhaps its twin, had appeared during his time in the fifth-dimensional gate, within the Ancient Ruins of the Teleportation Hub. Curiosity overriding his apprehension, he activated his Neural Command Skill: Scan. The familiar blue light washed over the sword, but the results were frustratingly incomplete. The system identified the weapon, displaying its name: Aetherium & Voidbringer. But beyond that, the scan offered nothing. No materials, no enchantments, no history – just the name. And then, the tier. Mythical Grade. Accel's eyes widened. A Mythical Grade weapon! He was stunned. Such a weapon was the stuff of legends, its power unimaginable. And he now possessed two of them.

He tried scanning again, hoping for more information, but the system remained stubbornly silent. Frustration gnawed at him. Then, his gaze fell on the intricate carvings that adorned the blade. They weren't just decorative; he recognized the symbols. It was the Ancient Language of CCE, a language he had recently added to his Archive Collection. He still had no idea what "CCE" stood for, but the possibility of deciphering the inscriptions sent a thrill through him. Could this sword, and its twin from the fifth-dimensional gate, hold the key to understanding the nightmare, the attack, everything? If he could just decipher the language, perhaps he could finally unravel the mysteries that plagued him. He felt a renewed sense of purpose. He wouldn't just become stronger for himself; he would uncover the truth, whatever it might be.