CHAPTER 139: NO, IT’S NOT

In the high villa tower of Silver Blade City, Nolan stood motionless, staring through the flickering projection of the battlefield as if he’d just seen a ghost. His brows drew low in stunned disbelief.

"What... did they just say?" he muttered.

Beside him, Lirazel, the horned and curvaceous succubus with wine-red hair that curled like coiled flame, tilted her head with a faint smile. "Something about a bloater?"

Nolan didn’t answer immediately. His mind raced, scrambling for context. A cold sweat traced the back of his neck.

Bloater.

That was a name he hadn’t expected to hear—at least, not here. Not in a real-world battlefield. Not while his students were standing toe-to-toe with a magic-enhanced demonic beast that was clearly more than just muscle and rage.

Bloater...

That was the name of the top-tier infected zombie boss from the game 27 Seconds Later. An absolute nightmare of molded flesh, acid sacks, and brutal close-quarters combat. And yes, Nolan had trained them on how to "kill" it—yesterday. Through illusion magic. In a safe zone. As a theoretical lesson.

"Don’t tell me..." he whispered, narrowing his eyes at the projected image as Calien and Erik shouted toward Chief Varros.

"What’s a bloater?" Lirazel asked again, now genuinely curious. Her wings shifted slightly, brushing his shoulder. "Is that some kind of human monster?"

Nolan rubbed the bridge of his nose, already annoyed. "No—it’s not a real monster. It’s a type of infected boss from a game in my world."

She blinked. "A game? So... imaginary?"

"Yes."

"And you trained them against it?"

"Yes."

"But now they’re treating that training as real?"

"YES!" Nolan exploded, his voice cracking with frustrated panic. "I told them once how to deal with a bloater in a game simulation! It’s a hypothetical! That’s like... like reading a fairy tale and thinking it’s a combat manual!"

Lirazel arched a brow. "Maybe you did make the simulation pretty realistic. And they thought it was real."

Nolan pointed at her without looking. "You’re not helping."

The projection continued—Calien and Erik’s figures could be seen shouting, gesturing, coordinating movements. Their lips formed instructions, and he recognized the exact phrases from his lesson: Rubbery tumor-flesh... twist the joints... dodge and bait swings...

"Oh no. No, no, no," Nolan muttered, running a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots. "They’re really doing it. They’re using game tactics. Against a living, breathing, magic-mutated demonic horror."

Lirazel’s confusion deepened. "Wait, so you’re saying this bloater is... not like the thing they’re fighting?"

"Correct!"

"But it looks the same?"

"Coincidentally, yes!"

"So... maybe it is the same?" she asked with a sly smirk.

"No! Don’t be ridiculous, it’s just—" Nolan broke off, fists clenched at his sides. "It resembles a bloater, sure. Tumor sacks, grotesque bulk, rubbery skin. But this thing was probably summoned. Mutated. Designed by some deranged mind with forbidden runes, not digital code!"

Lirazel blinked. "I don’t know what digital code is, but you seem very upset."

"Of course I’m upset!" Nolan snapped. "Those kids are going to die if they assume it’s exactly the same! They’re assuming it has the same weaknesses! The same patterns! The same logic! But this thing—this thing could explode, mutate further, launch a secondary form!"

"Ah... like the second health bar in the shadow realms?" she offered.

"Yes—NO! Gods, just—shut up, Lirazel."

Nolan turned back to the projection. His jaw clenched. He could see it all unfolding. Calien and Erik yelling instructions to Varros, miming the techniques they’d used in his simulation. Trying to coach a five-star chief of mana knights on a video game strategy.

And the worst part?

Varros was exhausted.

The chief could barely hold himself upright now. The weight of his repeated attacks, the resistance of the monster, the unnatural fatigue brought on by the mana-draining formation—all of it had worn him down.

His blade lowered slightly. His shoulders sagged.

Nolan’s voice cracked the air with force: "GET OUT OF THERE! BACK OFF AND LET VARROS HANDLE IT! DON’T DIE OVER A DAMN VIDEO GAME THEORY!"

But no one could hear him.

He slammed his fist against the wall beside the projection. "Useless! Too far!"

"They can’t hear you," Lirazel said quietly.

"I know they can’t!"

Still, he kept watching, desperate.

Back in the tower, the chaos hadn’t stopped.

Calien and Erik were still shouting their strategy to Chief Varros, their voices echoing through the dusty stone chamber:

"Swollen, unsettling, but beatable!"

"Defense: rubbery tumor-flesh!"

"Weakness: twisting joints, armpits, lower back!"

"Bait the swings—make it twist!"

"Stab the seams when they stretch!"

Their attendants looked completely lost, eyes darting between the monster, the boys, and the now panting, faltering chief.

"W-What are they talking about?" Calien’s attendant asked, eyes wide.

Erik’s attendant shook his head. "I have no idea. But they’re shouting like they actually know what they’re doing..."

"We do know!" Calien shouted back. "Just watch! It’s exactly like the bloater Teacher showed us!"

"I still don’t know what a bloater is!" Erik’s attendant cried.

Meanwhile, Nolan was practically foaming at the mouth. "It’s NOT a bloater!" he barked at no one. "Just because it looks like one doesn’t mean it follows the same rules! You two idiots—if it mutates again, you’ll be the first to go!"

But still, his voice couldn’t reach them.

All he could do was watch.

The monster bellowed again. The air trembled. Tentacles slammed against the walls, shattering bricks and knocking dust loose. Its tumor sacs swelled visibly, and the floor vibrated beneath its rage.

Chief Varros, breathing hard, gritted his teeth and raised his blade again—only to pause.

He turned slightly.

And for the first time in the entire battle... he took a step back.

Toward the students.

Panting, sweat dripping from his brow, his chest rising and falling in heavy motions, he finally admitted what they had all sensed for the last few moments.

"I... I am tired," Chief Varros said, his voice gruff but calm. "I need a moment."

And with that, the room went silent—except for the deep, steady breathing of the monster waiting before them.