Chapter 389
"Indeed, in the midst of madness like this, relaxing is the most rational choice."
The voice emerged once more from the depths of his consciousness, yet this time it was not merely a whisper of his own instinct.
It was Xavier's voice, filled with authority wrapped in a strange familiarity, responding directly to Ilux's unrest.
It sounded like an echo from the walls of the same soul, yet deeper, calmer, and laden with immeasurable experience.
He agreed, even encouraged, the idea of relaxing.
According to him, amid the madness that had surrounded Ilux lately—the pressure of the academy, the incident with his former teacher, the mysterious loss of Erietta, and now the truth about the two of them—relaxing was not weakness, but strategy.
A necessary pause to gather strength before a greater leap.
'Too cold to be called consolation.'
Ilux understood.
That understanding pierced him coldly, sharper than the night wind on the balcony.
He sensed the hidden intent behind Xavier's words—a claim that it was meant to comfort him, to lighten his burden.
Yet every frequency of the voice echoing within his consciousness, every chosen intonation, and every space between those words emitted no warmth or comfort at all.
What radiated instead was a cold evaluation, an observation from a higher vantage point, like an architect reviewing the cracked foundation of a building.
Xavier's tone held no genuine compassion, but rather a strategic analysis of Ilux's mental state, as though assessing whether a tool remained sharp enough to be used or needed sharpening first.
'Understandable. This is not the first time, not even the tenth.'
"I'm sorry—"
Duuuuh!
"That wasn't my intention to sound that way. Something has been troubling my mind lately."
Moreover, Ilux did not regard Xavier's coldness as something truly strange or surprising.
In a murmur barely audible, he acknowledged a recurring pattern.
This was not the first time, but one of many in recent days—perhaps even dozens of times—that the voice within had apologized.
The same apology, always following a tone that felt too sharp or overly analytical.
Xavier apologized for his bluntness, for a manner of speaking that could not conceal its evaluative edge, as though there existed a gap between the intention to comfort and the expression that emerged.
This ritual of apology became an indirect admission that something in their internal communication was not quite right.
The reason Xavier offered this time, as often before, was once again personal and vague.
He stated that something had been disturbing his thoughts, a restlessness arising without clear cause.
Such an admission, coming from an entity who should have been mature, wise, and seasoned by everything, revealed a new fragility.
Xavier, the soul of a grand past, could also feel unsettled, troubled by something he himself could not identify.
That causeless anxiety was a challenging paradox, showing that both Ilux and Xavier, though bound within a single existence, were walking through their own respective fogs of uncertainty.
"I'm not offended. Not in the slightest."
After a subtle nod, an affirmation deeper than mere words, Ilux accepted Xavier's statement.
He even responded, declaring that no offense lingered from the earlier cold tone.
The confession was sincere, for in the strangeness of their situation, being offended by the tone of a fragment of his own soul felt like an unnecessary luxury.
That acceptance softened the tension within him, creating a brief ceasefire in the relentless war inside his mind.
Then, slowly, his gaze lifted.
He looked at the night sky stretching wide above Star Academy, a dark canvas adorned with coldly flickering stars.
His stare no longer searched for anything, but seemed to let itself dissolve into that cosmic silence.
Beneath the glimmer of lights that had traveled for years, his usual defenses began to soften.
And like floodgates opening, memory after memory began to surface, pouring into his consciousness.
'I cannot forget the fear and emptiness I felt then. When I realized Ilux Rediona would not survive. Yet it was precisely at that moment that you awakened.'
The warmth of gratitude was real and deep, rooted firmly in the depths of Ilux's heart.
He deeply appreciated—more than merely acknowledged—the presence of Xavier's soul within him.
That appreciation did not arise suddenly nor solely from the awareness of reincarnation, but was built upon the foundation of an immeasurable life debt.
It began on the most decisive day, the day of his admission to Star Academy.
At that time, Ilux Rediona, a Fifth-Level Human Change from Sesth class, considered ordinary, had to face an impossible challenge.
To fight Sasha Blant.
Sasha Blant was no ordinary opponent.
He was the child of the ruling family of the five elements, their heir and direct descendant, a bloodline that granted him extraordinary power even before reaching eight years of age.
On the arena floor, the disparity felt like a chasm.
Every strike from Ilux was like a mere gust of wind to Sasha, while each counterattack from the boy carried devastating elemental force.
Ilux was driven back, his bones cracking, his breath ragged, his vision blurring.
He could sense the blade's edge or elemental claw aimed at his neck, a finishing strike that would sever him and end everything before it had truly begun.
In those critical seconds, when death loomed clearly before him, something extraordinary occurred.
His own consciousness seemed to sink, replaced by another stream of awareness far older, colder, and imbued with authority.
It was Xavier's awakening.
In an instant, control shifted.
It was no longer Ilux standing in the arena, but an entity with centuries of battle experience.
His movements transformed entirely—from panicked and stiff to efficient and lethal.
Every step Sasha once made unreadable was now easily predicted, every opening pierced with terrifying precision.
The battle that should have ended in slaughter reversed its course.
And without overwhelming elemental power, relying only on strategy, timing, and perfect bodily mastery, "Ilux" defeated the undefeated prodigy.
'The invasion of the Dark Legion nearly toppled everything. At least before you truly awakened.'
That quiet balcony was merely a silent pause before the storm.
Memory no longer took the form of mist, but of sharp glass shards cutting through the illusion of calm.
He remembered the stench of iron and ash in the Dark Legion's headquarters, not the fragrance of alcohol or party pastries.
His slender arms, now resting casually upon the balcony railing, had once moved with speed and strength not his own, shattering bone and steel alike.
The two points upon his chest, now hidden beneath an expensive midnight-blue shirt, had once been gateways of pain that nearly drove him to the brink of death.
At that time, the world of the Nusantara Empire trembled on the edge of total defeat, and the breath of terror swept through every corridor of power.
Ilux's own consciousness, dimmed by exhaustion and blood loss, was like a lamp on the verge of extinguishing.
Then, from immeasurable depths, arose a pressure—a presence far greater and far older.
To be continued…