Chapter 44: The One Who Would Burn the World - Reborn as the Archmage's Rival - NovelsTime

Reborn as the Archmage's Rival

Chapter 44: The One Who Would Burn the World

Author: SUNGODNIKAS
updatedAt: 2025-08-24

CHAPTER 44: THE ONE WHO WOULD BURN THE WORLD

Darius’s heart slammed against his ribs like a frantic drumbeat, his breath caught in his throat. The single word—Brother—hung in the air between them, sharp and impossible to ignore.

His eyes flickered upward, tracing the outline of the figure before him. That aura—the way it twisted the air, the subtle warp of space around him—it was undeniable. This wasn’t just a random stranger cloaked in shadow. This was him—the brother he had never truly known, yet somehow always carried a weight for.

Memories, fragmented and hazy, surfaced without warning. The spoiled elder brother from his old notes—the one who had always been untouchable, invincible in his arrogance because of his birthright. The one who adored Darius enough to declare war on Lucien, to move mountains for him, even if it meant becoming the storm that everyone feared.

The tension in the air was suffocating, but when the man stepped closer, that unbearable pressure suddenly unraveled.

Without hesitation, the brother’s arms wrapped around Darius in a fierce embrace, the kind that erased years in an instant. It wasn’t the cold, distant connection Darius had feared—it was warm, desperate, and full of something raw and unspoken.

"You’ve grown," the brother murmured, voice low and thick with something like pride. "Taller. Stronger. Smarter. I almost didn’t recognize you."

Darius stiffened under the weight of the hug, heat flushing his cheeks as a tangle of awkwardness and disbelief washed over him. Around them, a few students turned their heads, whispering with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"I... I always feel your magic," the brother said softly, pulling back just enough to look into Darius’s eyes. "No matter where I am, it calls to me."

Darius swallowed hard, unsure where to look. His fingers twitched at the edge of his coat, the urge to summon wind magic bubbling beneath his skin—but he resisted. For now, he just stood there, awkward and flushed, as the brother brushed a speck of dust from his shoulder.

Kai and Aiden, standing just a few steps away, exchanged amused glances. Aiden smirked, elbowing Kai, who barely held back a grin.

"You’re practically getting babied," Kai whispered, eyes twinkling with mischief.

The brother’s attention snapped toward them, the warmth fading like mist in the morning sun. His eyes sharpened, scanning Kai and Aiden with a sudden intensity.

"Who are they?" His voice dropped, cold and exacting—an invisible weight pressing down on the space between them.

Kai squared his shoulders. "His friends."

Aiden’s jaw clenched, and he straightened up, matching the older brother’s gaze without flinching.

For a moment, the brother simply blinked, the air thick with unspoken questions. Then, inexplicably, his expression cracked wide open—and tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Friends?" he whispered, voice cracking. "My baby brother has friends?"

Nearby students tried not to laugh, but a few snorts slipped through, betraying their amusement.

The brother clasped both Kai and Aiden’s hands with trembling gratitude. "You’ve been dealing with him all this time? You poor things."

Darius buried his face in his palm, wishing the earth would swallow him whole. "Please stop."

But the older brother’s tears only grew.

When he finally regained composure, he straightened with a sigh, still holding their hands.

"I came for someone else," he said quietly, his gaze drifting toward the remaining students in the healing wing. "They told me I have the freedom to find a potential apprentice."

He looked back at Darius, eyes softening but serious. "I haven’t made a decision yet. But seeing you now... I might consider it."

Darius blinked, a rush of mixed emotions flooding him. "No," he said quickly, voice firm but awkward. "That’d look awful. Everyone would assume favoritism. Besides—you’d be a terrible teacher for wind."

The brother smiled, bittersweet and faint, eyes glistening. "You’ve really grown up. Ma and Pa would be so proud." He paused, then nodded. "And you’re right. There’s someone else better suited for what I can pass on."

A sudden shift in the air made Darius glance up.

The brother raised his hand, fingers weaving through an intricate dance, folding space itself like a delicate tapestry. From thin air, he formed a small emblem—coin-sized, gleaming with strange magic. It was a star enclosed in a perfect circle, swirling with patterns that seemed almost alive.

"Still," the brother said, holding the emblem out, "I want you to have something."

Darius reached out hesitantly, taking the emblem. It hummed faintly against his palm, a pulse that synced with his own heartbeat.

"Call this when you’re in real danger," the brother explained. "My magic recognizes yours. It will come for you."

Darius’s fingers tightened around the emblem, his mind reeling.

The older brother gave a small, sad smile, then turned, melting back into the crowd like a shadow swallowed by twilight.

As he disappeared, a soft gasp rose from a healer nearby, her eyes wide as she stared at the fading residual aura.

A professor leaned close, voice barely above a whisper but heavy with awe.

A professor leaned close, voice barely above a whisper but heavy with awe.

"That’s him... the Star Visionary."

The title rippled through the air like a sacred incantation.

A few students nearby turned sharply, eyes wide. Even the ones who had laughed earlier stood a little straighter, the weight of that name sinking in slowly.

Another professor leaned in, voice laced with disbelief. "I didn’t know he was back in the country. If I’d known—"

"I would’ve stopped him. Asked him something, anything." The first professor exhaled, shaking his head. "The youngest to ever hold the Visionary title would have a bunch of juicy information."

One of the healers dropped her satchel. "Wait... that’s the one who collapsed the Sky Citadel in the Western War?"

"Without killing a single person inside," someone else added. "He let the structure fall like a spiral—every soldier walked out unharmed."

"Star Visionary..." the whisper returned, awe weaving through the syllables.

But Darius didn’t speak.

He stood frozen, the emblem still warm in his palm, the residual pressure lingering like an echo under his skin.

It was fading now, but not gone. Not completely. It clung to him like the outline of a shadow long after the sun had moved on. A reminder that power like that did not just arrive and disappear. It lingered. It carved space around it. It changed things.

His brother had always been that in the drafts. A presence so commanding the world seemed to shift to accommodate him. He had written him to be powerful, yes, protective and loving, yes, but also terrifying when it mattered. A being who loved Darius more than anything and would burn the world to ash if it meant keeping him safe.

And he had. In the story, Darius died.

And when it happened, the man who had once smiled and cried and babied him became something else. Something colder. Sharper. He took that grief and turned it into purpose. He declared war on Lucien. The Visionaries. On the Council. On anyone who had ever stood by and let it happen.

He shattered cities with bent gravity. He tore armies apart with orbiting rings of star-stitched magic. He did not care about rules or mercy. Only that they knew the cost of touching what he loved.

Darius closed his hand around the emblem.

He was still loved. Deeply. Unquestionably. But he knew, in that same breath, he was loved by a man capable of becoming a monster. A man who would break everything and never blink if Darius died again.

He glanced up toward the path his brother had walked, the crowd already swallowing the last trace of his figure. That had been just a fragment of his true strength. That aura. That pressure. That coin in his hand. That was only a sliver of what he could really do.

Darius would not die.

He told himself that again. He would not die.

He had rewritten enough, grown enough, changed enough. He was not the same Darius who once existed only as background. He was real now. Steady. A force of his own.

But still, as he slipped the emblem into the inner lining of his coat, his fingers tightening around the fabric, he found himself thinking one final thought.

Not for himself. Not even for his brother.

For Lucien.

Gods help you if you ever truly hurt me. I won’t have to kill you. He will. And there will be nothing left when he’s done.

Darius turned slowly, letting out a breath he had not realized he was holding.

"Hey," Kai’s voice cut through the quiet, casual but loud enough to shake him out of his thoughts. "You planning to stand there all day and brood like a tragic prince?"

Darius turned. Kai was standing a few steps away with Aiden beside him, both already halfway toward the food tents.

"You coming or what?" Aiden called, waving him over. "I want at least one plate of something hot before I get punched in the ribs again."

Kai checked the glowing clock rune hanging in the sky. "We’ve got like twenty-three minutes before the bracket’s up and they start tossing us back into the ring. That’s barely enough time to eat and complain properly."

Darius let out a quiet laugh and started walking. The emblem was still secure in his coat. The pressure of that moment still hummed in his bones. But with each step toward his friends, it faded just a little more.

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