Chapter 45: The Weight of Guilt and the Cost of Battle

Luoyi’s expression was one of profound relief. He winked at the four of them, pulling a truly comical face.

“Has the sense of guilt finally faded?” Mo Ya’s gaze settled quietly on Luoyi, his voice a low, probing murmur.

His pupils had reverted to their original obsidian hue. The blade, once coalesced by the Ouroboros, had subtly dissipated, receding back into his arm.

It now rested in a state of tranquil dormancy, destined to slumber as long as Mo Ya refrained from channeling his magical energy.

Mo Ya yearned for Luoyi’s answer.

Luoyi gently shook his head. A flicker of uncertainty passed through the depths of his eyes, only to be instantly masked by his optimistic demeanor.

“If it could just vanish, that would be as unbelievable as me not peeking… not researching, wouldn’t it?”

Shakia retracted her spear, securing it to her back, but not before delivering a jibe at Luoyi. Luoyi merely chuckled, scratching his head with a contrite smile, though his heart was heavy with frustration.

‘This woman hasn’t changed a bit. If things continue like this, will she truly find the answers she seeks?’

Luoyi felt a pang of doubt for Shakia’s future, and he surreptitiously wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

“He really is a pervert…”

“It seems so, yes. Speaking of which, this giant, who exactly is it…?”

Feng Ling’s faint voice and Akuma’s question drifted over. Luoyi swiftly shifted his gaze to the two of them.

Their expressions were rather peculiar, likely due to his startling declaration.

Feng Ling, in particular, had retreated behind Mo Ya, revealing only a sliver of her body, her small eyes fixed intently on him.

Akuma, however, wore a different look, one of pure curiosity, for he understood little about Luoyi or the unfolding events.

Akuma had been thrust into this conflict midway, haphazardly helping Mo Ya without fully comprehending the situation, simply hoping that Mo Ya would remain unharmed.

Even though Mo Ya was dubbed a ‘physical combat monster,’ in this magic-dominated environment, he was often seen as an anomaly, looked down upon. His status as a laggard would never change.

Ultimately, these students were merely denying Mo Ya’s strength, driven by jealousy and pride.

Akuma herself had once looked down on him for this very reason, despising the man who clearly possessed such formidable power.

Therefore, Mo Ya was, in essence, solitary. Even if he never displayed his loneliness, always wandering like a lone wolf, his emotions carefully concealed.

Yet, Akuma had seen it. In the dead of night, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, she had witnessed Mo Ya leaning against a tree, alone.

His eyes held a profound sense of desolation, though Akuma knew not why.

Mo Ya’s actions consistently brought her pleasant surprises, awakening her somewhat numb senses.

This aspect of Mo Ya captivated her. Thus, Akuma had long since quietly resolved that as long as she existed, she would not allow him to wear such a desolate expression again.

“Um…” Luoyi’s face once again showed a hint of embarrassment. He didn’t even know Akuma’s name and felt awkward about how to address them.

“Akuma.”

The boy before him stated his name. Luoyi nodded in relief, committing the name deeply to memory. He silently vowed never to make such a basic mistake again.

“Alright, Akuma. Allow me, the greatest Lord Luoyi of this century, to recount the events for you.”

Forcing a smile as he laid bare his own scars was not a sight Mo Ya particularly enjoyed. Yet, this painful process was one Luoyi had to endure. If one could not confront their inner self, how could they possibly move forward?

“I’ll go check out my future dorm room first.”

He turned and walked towards the cabin. His black cloak billowed in the forest breeze. Feng Ling slowly followed behind him.

“Idiot…”

“Hm?” Feng Ling suddenly grumbled at Mo Ya, causing him to turn his head in slight surprise, looking at her. Her small face was puffed up in an unhappy pout.

“Why do you push yourself so hard?”

“Who knows.”

“If something happened to you, who would bear witness to my atonement?” Feng Ling lifted her head, her small eyes filled with indignation, yet tinged with a hint of worry. Seeing Feng Ling like this, Mo Ya, uncharacteristically, allowed a smile to surface.

“Don’t worry so much. I won’t disappear from your side.”

“Hmph…” Feng Ling turned her head away, refusing to look at Mo Ya.

‘Such a cute side to Feng Ling,’ the thought unexpectedly crossed Mo Ya’s mind. He shook his head, casting away the unnecessary information, and withdrew his gaze from Feng Ling, continuing towards the cabin.

“Wait… you’re Mo Ya, right?” Shakia’s figure leaped out from the side, standing before him.

“Is there something you need?”

“What do you fight for?” In Shakia’s usually cold eyes, a bewildered confusion shone through.

Mo Ya looked at her, remaining silent, and walked past. Behind him, Akuma and Luoyi were conversing, Luoyi’s narration vivid and engaging. Akuma was engrossed in his dramatic tale, yet a corner of his eye kept glancing in Mo Ya’s direction.

“For myself. That is all.”

“I don’t accept that!” Shakia shouted loudly from behind Mo Ya. Her voice was so loud that Akuma and Luoyi couldn’t help but turn their attention to her.

She, however, paid them no mind. Ever since that battle in the trial, Mo Ya’s image had been a recurring nightmare in her mind. It was by no means romantic, Shakia knew that clearly.

The only reason he appeared in her thoughts was this: this man was her very antithesis, like a towering wall blocking her path.

“Fighting changes nothing! It only brings endless sorrow and pain, breeding hatred and despair!”

Mo Ya stopped, tilting his head slightly to look back at Shakia. He spoke, his voice low and solemn.

“Fighting can indeed bring sorrow and pain. But to refuse to fight will only multiply that sorrow and pain.”

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