CHAPTER 87: CH87 NOT QUALIFIED.

"I failed!"

Those were the only words Art could mutter as his eyes stayed glued to the sight of the ruined academy now shrouded in a red dome.

He was out of commission.

He couldn’t even muster an ounce of aura, so at first, he did the most logical thing and pleaded with Grim to go help the students.

With Grim, Cassandra, and the likes of Levi and Cerci, he was sure they could offset the balance... vanquish their foes and save the students but...

[Student Cheshire has been killed...]

Those words, tainted blood red, flashed before his irises.

Cheshire was dead.

It had been minutes since he was informed of this, and yet he wasn’t willing to accept it.

A student... a protagonist... had been killed.

He wasn’t just faced with emotional turmoil but a grim reminder that his actions had consequences.

His inability to act had now led to the loss of a student... the world’s balance had shifted ever so slightly, and his once certain future was now uncertainty itself.

He had let his guard down, believing his enemies wouldn’t act until much later but...

"I can’t go on."

The city was in a panic, the Commission and Heroes Association were sending their units to the academy.

The city was under martial law, and the only things roaming about were heavy armored trucks full of some of the finest soldiers in the city.

A useless waste of space like him wasn’t needed.

Once they managed to break the barrier, Pathfinders and its agents would have to retreat, and everything would be over.

’How many will be dead by then?’

Closing his eyes, wet with tears, he sighed.

He hadn’t seen Cheshire’s death, but he was linked to her.

The moment she died, the feedback of her death had crashed into him.

He managed to stay awake due to sheer force of will, but it only made how brutal her death had been all the clearer.

For that very reason, he should’ve been raging.

He should’ve been screaming to kill whoever had done that to her but... what did he have?

A system?

It didn’t give him strength, just occasionally gifted him abilities after completing quests.

His intelligence?

He was never the smartest nor the brightest and had been easily outplayed.

Abilities?

Sure, he had a pure bit, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a four-star Aura user with a dented core.

His intent might push his rank higher temporarily, but compared to the monsters in the barrier, he doubted he would achieve much.

This wasn’t students he would be facing but true monsters, the kind that wouldn’t hesitate... the kind that wouldn’t doubt when to strike.

Here, a single strike and how it was dealt with could mean life and death.

And deep down, Art knew he wasn’t ready for that.

Maybe it was time he retired and stopped the unnecessary effort of trying to be some mysterious man.

He was just an unfortunate transmigrator in a world that didn’t bend to his rules.

He wasn’t the protagonist—or rather, he didn’t want to be. That role was reserved for Valeria, and it was time she lived up to it.

Nobody would blame him for what was happening.

To the world, he was just a new prodigy who had been out of commission when this happened.

Many would actively scream at him to sit this one out.

"I’m not the Hero... never was. It’s either they win or lose. The decision isn’t up to me."

Slouching onto the hospital bed, he looked up at the ceiling with a pensive look.

Cold, and waiting for all of this to be over.

Depending on how effective the countermeasures he had set were, the casualties might be less than expected, but if his countermeasures were deciphered, then many would die, and it would be the last.

They would destroy Legacy... Excalibur would follow after, and the remaining pillar would soon be demolished.

He was essentially experiencing a bad end, and what Valeria would do would affect the results.

As for him, prayer was all he could...

"Please..."

He heard someone murmur as a scar in space tore through his hospital room.

Within it, a youth with silver hair staggered forward.

All her arrogance—at least the kind she expressed when they first met—had been snuffed away, leaving only sorrow.

"Kiara!" he unconsciously muttered out and stopped to help her stand straight.

Looking her up and down, he realized she was unscathed, probably because she had fled but... Kai wasn’t with her.

Kiara would never abandon Kai, Trish, or Enko even if her life was on the line... except...

"She wants help."

Ignoring the pain shooting up his sides, he led her to a couch where she looked up to him with a pleading look.

"You can help them, right?"

She inquired, pointing at the academy.

"..I..."

"No, no, no... you can’t do this to me. My teleportation isn’t long range. You’re the only one I could come to because I tracked your blood. Please... you’re the only one..."

"You overestimate me." Art shrugged, his eyes cold and unfeeling reflecting the young witches teary expression.

Whatever Kiara wanted was deaf to him.

He had given up.

He wasn’t going to play hero when it didn’t fit him.

When it demanded this much effort.

Giving it his all was never his thing... never would be, even in another world.

"You... they’re going to die."

"And what can a cripple like me do?"

Pointing at his blood-soaked side, he commented and walked to the window to close the curtains.

"Maybe at first I thought I could achieve something. I thought I could be a guiding light and help you kids achieve something but... all of that was snuffed away just like Cheshire’s life."

A grim silence followed suit as Kiara looked down.

In a way, she understood what he was saying.

Art must have placed enormous expectations on himself, but in the end was crushed by them but...

"It doesn’t give you the right to give up."

Biting her lips, she clenched her fist and stared daggers at the failure of a man before her.

"..."

"You are an instructor... a teacher. You’re supposed to protect us... guide us even in the darkest hour. If you can’t do that much, then you don’t qualify, not as a teacher nor as a human."

"Well, you’ve done me a favor by turning me into a demon then."

Art, impressed by her speech but still unconvinced slouched back onto the bed, wondering how long this would go on.