Chapter 197: An Escape Paid in Blood

The voice came from beyond the broken wall.

Vareth remained still, blood running from the corner of his mouth and dripping onto the dust-covered floor. His right arm hung uselessly at his side, the spatial backlash having done more damage than he first realized.

He could not afford another fight.

His mana was nearly gone. The failed second fissure had consumed almost everything that remained, and his body was already failing under the strain.

A shadow stretched across the broken stones.

"Come out."

The voice was calm. Neither urgent nor surprised.

Vareth leaned carefully around the edge of the wall.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood several meters away, his short dark-brown hair slightly disheveled. Sharp gray eyes studied the ruined corridor with quiet intensity. A sword rested in his right hand, the blade still faintly stained from earlier combat.

Garrick Vane.

Vareth’s lips tightened.

"You recognize me?" Garrick asked.

Vareth forced himself upright, keeping his injured arm close to his body.

"I’ve heard of you. Garrick Vane, the professor known for his mastery of Battle Energy."

Garrick’s gaze moved briefly to the blood on Vareth’s mouth, then to the way he held his arm.

"You look like you’ve already lost."

Vareth offered a thin smile.

"Perhaps."

Garrick advanced. Battle Energy began to gather along the edge of his sword, the pressure in the corridor thickening with every step.

Vareth raised his left hand.

A faint ripple spread through the air. The stones beneath Garrick’s feet warped for an instant before the distortion collapsed under its own instability. Blood dripped from Vareth’s fingertips. Even that minor attempt left his vision swimming and his knees threatening to buckle.

Garrick stopped.

"You’re injured. Your mana is unstable. Whatever technique brought you into the academy took more from you than you can afford."

Vareth’s smile faded.

The professor was observant, more so than most.

"You won’t escape," Garrick said.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Vareth turned and slammed his left hand against the damaged wall behind him.

A sharp distortion tore through the structure.

CRACK!

Stone split above the adjoining corridor. Large fragments broke free and plummeted toward a group of injured students sheltering beneath a partially collapsed archway. Dust and smaller debris rained down with them.

Garrick moved instantly.

Battle Energy surged around his body. He crossed the distance in a single explosive step, sword rising as he planted himself directly in the path of the falling stone.

BOOM!

The debris struck his reinforced frame and shattered against the ground. The impact forced him half a step backward, his boots grinding against the broken floor. Dust filled the passage in a thick cloud.

"Stay down!"

The students obeyed at once, pressing themselves against the wall.

Garrick shoved the remaining debris aside with controlled force, making sure the corridor would not collapse further. It took only a few seconds.

Those seconds were enough.

Behind him, Vareth pressed his left hand against his chest.

Deep beneath his ribs, his bloodline stirred.

He had spent decades refining that power. It was the foundation of his spatial talent, the reason he could open passages that most demons of his realm could never hope to create. Sacrificing it was not a decision made lightly.

But remaining here meant death.

He burned it.

Dark mana erupted from his body in a violent surge. The markings across his skin flared like molten brands. His black horns trembled as the energy forced its way through exhausted channels, tearing through damaged pathways. The air around him twisted violently, reality itself beginning to strain.

A thin line of space appeared.

Then another.

The two lines spread apart, widening into a narrow, unstable fissure. Vareth’s face contorted. Blood poured from his mouth in a thick stream. His ruined right arm trembled as spatial energy gathered around it. The bones strained under the pressure, threatening to give way completely.

He was tearing away the foundation of his own talent.

The fissure widened further. Dust and stone fragments were dragged toward its opening with increasing force. Its edges flickered, threatening to collapse.

Garrick turned.

His eyes narrowed.

"Stop!"

Battle Energy surged along the length of his blade. The ground cracked beneath his boots as he launched himself forward, crossing the remaining distance in a blur of reinforced movement.

Vareth saw him coming.

He had no time left.

He forced the fissure open with everything that remained.

KRRRRAAAK!

Space split with a sound like breaking stone. Beyond its flickering edges lay a distorted landscape. The pull intensified, dragging loose debris into its depths.

Garrick reached him.

His sword, wrapped in dense Battle Energy, crashed against Vareth’s chest. The impact sent a sharp crack through the corridor as several ribs shattered.

Blood sprayed from Vareth’s mouth as the blow hurled him backward, directly toward the unstable fissure.

Before Garrick could seize him, Vareth forced himself through the opening.

His right arm was the last part of him to pass through before the fissure snapped shut with a final, violent distortion.

A spatial shockwave tore through the corridor. Garrick raised his sword to shield his face as stone fragments scattered around him in every direction.

When the distortion faded, silence returned.

Vareth was gone.

Only scattered drops of blood remained on the ground.

Garrick lowered his sword. His expression was dark.

He had reached the demon. He had landed a clean, heavy strike. And still the enemy had escaped.

He turned toward the students.

"Is anyone seriously injured?"

A young student shook his head, still pale.

"No, Professor. We’re all right."

"Good. Stay here until another instructor arrives. Do not move through the damaged passage."

Garrick’s gaze returned to the place where the fissure had vanished.

The residual spatial mana was almost violent in its instability. Whatever Vareth had done, repeating the technique would likely cost him even more.

The demon had been on the verge of collapse.

Yet he had still escaped.

That made the situation considerably more dangerous.

---

The fissure opened above a stretch of uneven ground just beyond the academy’s outer territory.

A figure was thrown out of it.

THUD!

Vareth struck the earth hard and rolled several times before coming to a stop near the roots of a dead tree.

For a long moment, he could not move.

His chest rose and fell in shallow, painful breaths. Blood soaked the front of his clothing. His right arm lay motionless against his side.

The fissure was gone.

He was alive, though barely. For now, that was enough.

Vareth opened his eyes.

The silhouette of Ambrose Academy still loomed in the distance, its damaged towers visible beyond the treeline. The surrounding landscape was quiet: sparse trees, rocky ground, and the faint outline of the outer perimeter walls.

He had intended to escape far beyond the academy’s territory, but his mana was nearly exhausted and his spatial talent was already damaged. He could not hold the fissure open long enough to reach a safe distance. The opening collapsed before he could travel any farther, leaving him only a short way beyond the academy’s outer grounds.

It was still better than remaining inside.

A weak, broken laugh escaped his throat and immediately turned into a cough. Blood stained his lips.

He tried to raise his right hand.

Nothing happened.

His fingers remained still.

He reached out to sense the spatial mana around him.

Space had always felt like an extension of his body, something he could perceive and shape at will. Now the connection was distant and fractured, as though a vital sense had been torn away.

The portion of his bloodline he had burned was gone for good. No amount of rest or training would bring it back. What remained of his talent was damaged but not destroyed, and with years of effort he might yet rebuild some of its former reach. Whether he could ever match what he had once been was another matter.

He had survived only because his opponent had chosen to protect the students rather than pursue him.

Vareth forced himself onto one knee.

Every movement sent pain through his chest. He needed cover and time to recover enough strength to move. Only then could he make contact with whatever remained of the demon forces.

But first, he needed to survive the next few hours.

His vision darkened.

His body collapsed back onto the ground.

For the first time in decades, Vareth could not trust his own strength.

The mission had failed.

The academy’s defenses had proven far stronger than anticipated. Most of the demons sent on the operation were likely dead.

And his spatial talent, the ability that had made him invaluable, had been permanently diminished.

He had escaped, but the price had been far greater than he had anticipated.

His one functional hand clenched against the dirt.

He needed to report the failure. The Hero was still alive, and the remaining demon forces had to know what had happened.

His eyes slowly closed.

For now, surviving would have to come first.

---

Back at Ambrose Academy, Garrick stood in the ruined corridor, staring at the place where the fissure had vanished.

A second instructor had arrived to escort the injured students away.

"Professor Vane," the man called. "What happened here?"

"A demon escaped."

The instructor’s expression changed.

"Escaped? How?"

"Spatial manipulation. He forced open a fissure despite his injuries." Garrick paused. "He paid heavily for it, but I couldn’t stop him."

"Should we pursue?"

"No. Not without knowing where he went. And we still have students to evacuate."

Garrick turned toward the academy grounds.