The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character-Chapter 120: Protagonist Always Arrives Late [6]

"Bullshit," he repeated, spitting the word like poison. "You think you’re inevitable. You think if we live, we’ll only suffer more? That it’s better to die now than to try?"

Rin took a shaky breath. His shirt was torn, one side of his face stained red, but he kept going.

"That’s not some truth. That’s just you justifying your own cowardice."

Ethan blinked, slightly taken aback by the sheer venom in Rin’s voice.

"You hide behind that twisted logic because you couldn’t handle being abandoned," Rin said, stepping forward. "So now you want to play god and decide who deserves to live or die?"

He glared at the monster, then back at Ethan.

"You don’t scare me," I said, steadying my breath. "You never did."

Ethan tilted his head, curious.

"Is that so?"

"You’re not strong. You’re just loud."

For a moment, there was silence—thick, bitter silence.

Then Ethan smiled, but this time, the edges of his grin twitched. Like it hurt to keep it up.

"You’re still standing?" he muttered. "I really thought you’d be dead by now."

"Yeah," I exhaled, chest burning. "You’re not the only one surprised."

Ethan took a slow step forward, Nirhal looming behind him like a demon on a leash. Its breath hissed like boiling tar. My legs trembled just being near it.

"So..." Ethan started, brushing ash from his shoulder. "Do you think you can stop Nirhal?"

I shook my head.

"No. Not me."

Ethan blinked. "No?" freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

"But I know someone who can."

He laughed at that. A dry, amused laugh. "Oh? Then can you—"

SCRIIIIITECH—!

The door didn’t creak. It didn’t rattle.

It exploded off its hinges.

A rush of pressure blasted through the room, scattering the smoke and tension in a single breath. It slammed against my chest like a wave and stirred even Nirhal into hesitating.

Through the broken doorway, a silhouette stood tall—coat fluttering, hair tousled, a sword sheathed across his back, gleaming with faint light.

Ryen.

The hero of the story. The real one.

And of course—he showed up late.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, a small grin forming despite the pain. "Protagonist entrances are always so cool... but they always take their damn time."

Ryen didn’t say a word. He just took a single step forward, eyes locked onto Ethan.

And Ethan? For the first time since this all began—

He stopped smiling.

What the...?

Even Ethan looked confused.

He stood frozen, stunned, staring blankly at the door like the world had just flipped on its head. His confidence, his madness—all of it paused, as if time itself had stuttered.

Because standing there, at the entrance, was Ryen.

And not just Ryen.

A few more people followed behind him—Leona, just like I asked. Nora too. And one other person I hadn’t expected... but honestly, it didn’t matter.

They came.

And just in time.

Because Nirhal—that venomous monstrosity—was about to explode.

I could see it in its trembling legs, the swelling of its bloated abdomen, the flickering of that sickly green glow across its sac-laced back. The entire room was about to be swallowed in gas.

"That’s poison gas! Ryen, cut it—now!"

"Huh—!?"

He flinched, just for a split second, before instinct kicked in.

Ryen drew his sword. That familiar golden light blazed out, bright and sharp, as if the blade itself was rejecting the very existence of the foul thing before him.

The Holy Sword of Justice. Ryen’s talent.

It had the power to purify—burn away all poison and corruption. And I knew that. I’d bet everything on it. But...

He was still a few milliseconds too late.

The Nirhal burst.

A sickening crack, then a sharp hiss as Nirhal’s body ruptured, releasing a cloud of violet-green mist—thick, heavy, and seething with death.

If nothing changed, someone—maybe multiple people—was going to die.

Ryen would watch one of his friends fall right in front of him.

He’d blame himself.

He’d carry that guilt for the rest of his life.

But that’s why I was here.

I had already activated my talent—my Enhancement—and poured the last of my Primal Qi into it.

All of it.

I didn’t even hesitate.

And in that moment, my power surged forward and wrapped around his blade, a second invisible force strengthening the holy light that shimmered from it.

The sword’s glow blazed brighter than ever before. Gold turned white, then blue-white, burning like a miniature sun.

And with a single swing, he cut.

The gas didn’t even have a chance to spread.

It evaporated.

Purged.

Burned out of existence.

The poisonous mist hissed as it vanished, leaving only scorched air and the stunned silence of those who were supposed to be dead.

The holy light illuminated the room, sweeping away the shadows. Even Ethan had to shield his eyes.

And me?

I dropped to the floor.

Empty.

Nothing left in me.

The gas was gone. The students were safe. I should’ve felt relief.

But instead, all I felt was... heat.

A sudden, burning tightness in my chest.

And then—iron.

I coughed.

The taste of blood filled my mouth.

Not just a trickle—this was deep. My ribs felt like they were caving in. My knees buckled, and I barely caught myself on one hand, the other clutched against my chest.

I looked down. Red droplets hit the floor.

So this was the cost.

Still worth it.

As my vision began to blur around the edges, I heard a voice crack—sharp and angry.

Ethan.

He wasn’t laughing anymore.

His composure was gone, replaced by raw disbelief.

His lips twitched as he took a shaky step back. His breathing was uneven, frantic.

"...This wasn’t supposed to happen."

His voice cracked again.

"I planned for everything. Everything! You were supposed to break! You—You weren’t even supposed to be here!"

His eyes locked onto me, wide and trembling.

"You’re nothing!"

He screamed the words like a curse, like he was trying to force the world to agree with him.

"You’re nothing—just a background insect! You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t matter—"

He looked around, at the ruined classroom, the burning corpse of Nirhal, the untouched students behind Leona and Ryen.

At me.

Blood dripping from my lips. Barely upright. Still standing.

And his face twisted.

Not in rage.

In fear.

That’s when he started to unravel completely—laughing, shaking, cursing the heavens, clawing at his head like he was trying to rip the thoughts out of his skull.

"I made Nirhal to be perfect! I combined every toxin, every species—I made it from death itself! I made it better than anything I ever had! This is my masterpiece! And you—"

His voice cracked into something inhuman, high and shrill.

"—you erased it like nothing."

He stumbled backward, almost tripping over his own feet. Pathetic. Cornered. A monster who suddenly realized he wasn’t the predator anymore.

And still, I couldn’t even enjoy it.

Because the moment I took a breath, my chest seized again.

Another cough.

More blood.

I swayed.

"Rin!"

Ryen’s voice rang out—sharp, urgent.

I could hear footsteps pounding across the shattered classroom floor.

The first to reach me was Professor Lena. She dropped to her knees beside me, grabbing my arm with a grip that was firmer than I expected. Her gloves were smeared with dust, blood, and ash—but her face...

Furious.

At Ethan. At the situation.

At me.

But underneath all that anger, I saw it—worry. Deep and real.

"Don’t talk," she ordered, her tone clipped. "Just breathe, you idiot. You pushed yourself too far—!"

Before I could even open my mouth, another pair of hands landed on me—gentler, trembling slightly.

Leona. Still in her disguise, but her voice was her own.

"Hang on, Rin. Just stay with us, alright? You did great. Just... stay awake. Please."

And then Ryen appeared, looming over me.

His sword had already been sheathed. His hands were bare, open. He looked down at me like I was some strange puzzle he hadn’t expected to find in this mess.

"I didn’t even know you were here," he said, quietly. Almost to himself. "You... saved everyone. You actually..."

His voice faded.

I wanted to respond. I really did. A sarcastic jab, maybe a dumb joke about being everyone’s unexpected savior.

But instead—

"Cough, cough!"

Blood.

Again.

It splattered the ground, thick and hot. My throat burned.

No... No, I was fine.

It was just temporary.

Just a side effect. Probably.

I tried to breathe deeper—but my chest tightened, my lungs felt heavy, and everything around me started to twist. Like I was staring at the world through rippling water.

Still, I could feel it.

A flicker of warmth deep in my core.

[Eternal Return] stirred to life, already working.

The Primal Qi I’d spent was returning, flooding slowly back into me, drop by drop.

[Oath of the Saint] shifted again, sliding from enhancement to recovery.

If the timing had been even slightly off, I might’ve passed out—or worse.

But I was really, truly okay now.

...Right?

Another cough. Another splash of blood.

"W-What do we do!?"

Nora’s voice this time. She sounded unusually shaken. "The bleeding won’t stop!"

Nora. The same girl who didn’t bat an eye anyone in the world aside from Ryen. Her brows were drawn together, her fists clenched tightly.

Wow. Was this how serious it looked from the outside?

Seriously. I was fine.

I just looked like death.

Also...

How are you liking this story so far?

Me?

I actually kinda like it. Even though I’m choking on my own blood in the middle of a ruined classroom.

Yeah... I like it.

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End Of Arc One— Phycopath killer Professor!

Thank you for reading till now!