"The verdict has been reached."
The Head Arbitrator's voice echoed through the grand disciplinary chamber, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. Aden Vasco stood at the center, his wrists bound by enchanted iron cuffs that suppressed his mana.
The weight of judgment hung heavy in the air as the gazes of the Walpurgis Academy's Disciplinary Committee bore into him like nails hammered into flesh.
"Aden Vasco, you are hereby found guilty of first-degree murder."
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In a sudden, blinding flash, the memories of his past life descended upon Aden like a relentless tidal wave, each one threatening to drag him into the depths of despair.
He saw himself as he once was, the proud, confident heir of the Vasco Household, a young man with the world at his feet, a man who commanded respect and admiration from all who knew him.
But that world, the one he had once believed to be his birthright, had turned against him, casting him out like a slave and hunting him like a wild animal.
The Senate, the decision making group of power-hungry individuals of the Vasco household, had been the architects of his downfall. They had seen his potential, his ability to challenge the current heir in line for succession.
The one they had put forth to get the household in their control and they had feared it. In their eyes, he was not a son of the Vasco Household, not a man with dreams and aspirations, but a threat, a danger that needed to be eliminated.
Only his father, Ed Vasco, the patriarch had stood between him and certain death, a lone pillar of support in a world that had turned against him. But even his protection had its limits, for no man, not even Ed Vasco, could stand against the tide forever.
When Ed stepped down from his position of authority, the Senate seized their chance, striking with the speed and ruthlessness of a viper.
They wasted no time in sending the Vasco Household's elite hounds after Aden, a pack of ruthless, highly-trained assassins, each one determined to eliminate him once and for all.
From that moment on, Aden's life became a never-ending nightmare, a constant cycle of running and hiding, always looking over his shoulder, never able to trust anyone, not even his own shadow.
He lived a lonely, isolated existence, focusing all his energy on honing his skills and mastering techniques to survive, for he knew that the only way to stay alive was to be better, faster, and stronger than those who sought to kill him.
He became a shadow, a ghost, always one step ahead of his pursuers, always on the move, never staying in one place for too long. But even that wasn't enough, for The Public.
A notorious crime organization with tentacles that reached into every corner of society, had teamed up with the Vasco Household to hunt him down, their combined resources and influence making escape nearly impossible.
The world around Aden seemed to close in on him. He was a man on the run, with nowhere to turn and no one to trust, a man who had been pushed to the very edge of despair and beyond.
But even in his darkest moments, he refused to give up, refused to surrender to the fate that had been thrust upon him.
He kept moving, kept fighting, kept searching for a way out of the nightmare his life had become, for he knew that the only way to survive was to keep moving forward, no matter the cost.
Just when all hope seemed lost, a glimmer of light appeared in the darkness. Aden ran into Christine Remes, his childhood rival and a brilliant researcher of time magic. She was like a breath of fresh air, a reminder of the life he had once known, the life he had lost.
Desperate for a chance to change his fate, Aden convinced Christine to help him find a way to turn back time and fix his life. Together, they worked tirelessly, with Aden risking his life to gather rare materials while Christine poured her heart and soul into perfecting the spell, her eyes blazing with determination and hope.
Along the way, Aden even learned magic, despite his background as a knight. He had never known before, driven by a desperate need to survive, to change his fate. He pushed himself harder than he ever had before, his body and mind straining under the weight of his determination.
But on the eve of their success, tragedy struck, like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky.
The Hounds of the Vasco family and the Public advanced, their footsteps echoing in the tense silence. Aden and Christine stood back to back, their hearts pounding, their breathing measured and controlled.
The air crackled with anticipation, like the calm before a storm.
"Aden," Christine whispered, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "They're here."
"Stay close," Aden replied, his gaze never leaving the approaching figures. "We'll get through this. Together."
The attack came in a rush of motion, a blur of steel and shadow. Aden stepped forward to meet it, his sword flashing in the moonlight.
He parried the first strike, the clash of metal on metal ringing out like a bell. He countered with a thrust, his blade snaking past the enemy's guard, but they danced away, their movements quick and agile.
Christine's magic flared to life, a torrent of fire that lit up the night. The flames licked at the enemy, forcing them back, buying Aden a moment's respite. He used it to assess the situation, his mind racing.
There were too many of them, and they were too skilled. He and Christine were outnumbered and outmatched. But they had one advantage: they had each other.
Aden pressed forward, his sword a whirling blur of steel. He cut down one attacker, then another, his movements fluid and precise. But for every enemy that fell, another took their place, their numbers seemingly endless.
Christine fought by his side, her magic a potent force. She called down bolts of lightning, the air crackling with energy. She summoned gusts of wind, sending the enemy flying.
But even her power had its limits, and Aden could see her tiring, her movements growing slower, less precise.
They were losing ground, the enemy pressing in on all sides. Aden's breathing grew ragged, his sword heavy in his hand. He parried a strike, but another slipped past his guard, scoring a line of fire across his ribs.
He stumbled, his vision blurring with pain.
And then, in a moment of inattention, one of the Hounds struck Christine. His blade found its mark, plunging into her chest. She fell to her knees, her lifeblood staining her robes, her eyes wide with shock.
"Christine!" Aden screamed, his voice raw with emotion. He caught her in his arms, her body limp, her breathing ragged. "
Stay with me," he pleaded, his hands pressing against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. "Don't leave me."
But it was too late. Her once-bright eyes, the eyes that had sparkled with life and hope, dimmed, like a candle flickering in the wind. In that moment, something inside Aden snapped, a dam breaking under the weight of his grief and despair.
He unleashed all his mana in a berserk fury, his body glowing with an unholy light as he cut down his pursuers in a storm of blood and magic.
His sword moved with blinding speed, each strike precise, deadly, as if guided by an unseen force. He spun, ducked, leaped, his movements a dance of death, a symphony of destruction.
The enemy fell before him like wheat before a scythe, their screams of pain and terror music to his ears. He used every technique he knew, every trick he had learned, his mind clear of all thoughts save one:
kill them all.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The last of the enemy lay dead at his feet, their blood staining the ground, their bodies broken and twisted.
Aden stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, his body slick with sweat and blood. He looked down at Christine, her body still warm in his arms, and a sob tore from his throat, raw and anguished.