Chapter 213: "Whore" Becomes the Last Word You Ever Speak

The professor looked at his student expectantly.

The boy in the red suit stepped forward, face twisted with righteous indignation.

"This girl dropped wine on my pants intentionally!"

He pointed at Lilith accusingly.

"Even then, I didn’t say anything. I was being a gentleman. But then she pressed herself against me, saying she was ’really sorry’ and tried cleaning my crotch area with her filthy hands and handkerchief!"

His voice rose with theatrical outrage.

"She was seducing me! Trying to trap me in some scheme! I caught her before she could execute whatever plan your academy had cooked up!"

Jax turned to Lilith.

She sobbed harder, shaking her head desperately.

"He’s lying, professor! I didn’t—"

Jax smiled softly.

His hand reached up and gently wiped the tears from her left cheek. Then her right. The gesture was surprisingly tender from someone known for chaos.

Then he turned back to the accusers.

"Did you hear that?" His smile remained.

"Your student is spouting bullshit."

Meanwhile, after scanning several rooms and corners away in that fateful hallway, Lysandra stood frozen.

The room before her had been mercilessly ravaged.

Her eyes found the wet panty first. Ilythra’s. Discarded on the floor because it was clearly no longer wearable.

Then she looked at the ground. The bedsheets.

Fluids everywhere.

Saliva. Juices. Semen.

The smell of everything mixed together invaded her sharp senses. Sweet. Musky. Undeniably carnal.

Her gaze traveled further and landed on something that made her blood run cold.

The runic stone.

Sitting innocently on the overhead rack above the destroyed bed.

On the other side of the hall, watching the chaos between students and professors unfold, stood Astrid and her father.

Her Father had arrived late. Upon hearing those lewd sounds echoing through the ballroom, he had immediately called Astrid outside. They had only just entered after the broadcast ended.

"Isn’t that the young professor who troubles you?" His eyes studied Jax with calculating interest.

Astrid’s heart skipped. "No, father. He isn’t the one."

"But I received reports. My sources confirmed he was constantly troubling you."

She shook her head vigorously.

"No, no... that’s not the case. Trust me, father."

He studied her eyes for a long moment.

Then sighed.

"If my daughter says so."

His gaze returned to Jax.

"But he looks troublesome. Should I have him thrown out?"

"No!"

Her response came too quickly. Too desperately.

"Please, father. He isn’t a bad person. And don’t forget, he helped me when I was thrown into the demon realm."

The duke waved dismissively.

"Isn’t it the duty of any person to give their life for the Aleris family? It would be his honor. Besides, he’s a professor. Isn’t protecting students simply his—"

He caught Astrid’s angry pout.

Her cheeks puffed. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed.

"Fine, fine. I’ll stop there."

A pause.

Then a knowing smile spread across his face.

"It seems my daughter has taken a liking to him. Perhaps I should take matters into my own hands."

Astrid’s face erupted blushing. "That’s... no... it’s not like that..."

He laughed warmly.

"What’s the young man’s name?"

She answered while still blushing furiously.

"Jax."

"Well then." The duke’s expression turned analytical.

"Let’s see what your Professor Jax does here. He’s already in a terrible position. Fighting and kicking a professor from Martial Academy? At the commencement of the tournament? In front of everyone?"

He shook his head.

"He’s finished. Expulsion is guaranteed, even if the girl is innocent."

Astrid’s worried eyes found Jax in the crowd.

"Father, can’t we help him? With your power, surely—"

"I certainly could."

He cut her off smoothly.

"But why would I help someone who makes my daughter hide things from me?"

Astrid’s expression shifted from worry to fury.

"You’re doing this again!"

She turned her back to him, arms folded tightly.

"I hate you."

He smiled at her retreating form. "And now she hates me because of him."

On the opposite edge of the hall, Roxana sat in a chair deliberately turned away from all the commotion.

She nursed her wine peacefully, body hunched low in an attempt to disappear entirely.

A hand touched her shoulder.

She nearly jumped out of her skin.

Whipping around in panic, she found familiar eyes staring back at her. Her body sagged with relief.

"Don’t scare me like that, Sylvie."

The elf queen raised an eyebrow. "Scare you? Have you grown so weak?"

Roxana’s face remained unbothered as she took another sip.

"Spend enough time with a certain someone, and you’ll learn that ’scared’ is far too small a word for it."

Sylvie’s expression turned mischievous.

"The man who’s currently the center of attention... would that be this ’certain someone’ you’re referring to?"

Roxana’s head turned slowly.

Her eyes found Jax standing protectively in front of Lilith, who was still crying. Facing him were three people from Martial Academy. Guards had begun surrounding the scene.

Wine sprayed from her mouth.

She choked violently, struggling to breathe.

After several desperate coughs, she grabbed Sylvie’s arm.

"Sister, can you arrange a vacation for me? A month perhaps? Or maybe transfer my position entirely?"

At that moment, Lysandra emerged from the hallway.

The runic stone clutched in her trembling hand. Fury radiating from every pore.

Her eyes scanned the ballroom, searching for one person.

When she found Jax, her jaw dropped.

He stood at the center of attention. Surrounded by guards. The three accusers positioned before him like executioners awaiting their verdict.

Every gaze in the ballroom had converged on this single point.

The professor sneered.

"What do you mean ’she said so’?".

Jax’s response came instantly. "Because I believe in her."

His eyes drifted to the two boys standing behind their professor.

Something flickered in his gaze. Recognition. Understanding.

Then he started laughing.

Maniacally.

The sound echoed through the silent hall, sending chills down spines.

The professor’s face contorted with rage.

"You... you’re behind this! You sent that whore to lure my stu—"

He never finished.

Jax’s hand moved like lightning.

In one fluid motion, he drew a sword from the nearest guard’s sheath.

Slash.

The blade carved through both students’ throats in a single horizontal arc. Blood sprayed into the air like a crimson fountain.

Before anyone could scream, before anyone could react, the sword’s tip was already inside the professor’s mouth.

Positioned vertically between his teeth.

The blade prevented him from speaking. From closing his jaw. From doing anything except standing there with steel resting against his tongue.

Every jaw in the ballroom dropped simultaneously.

The two students collapsed to their knees, hands clutching their torn throats. Blood poured through their fingers in rivers. Their mouths opened and closed like fish desperate for air that would never come.

Half their necks had been pierced clean through.

They were dying. Slowly. Painfully.

And Jax stood there, sword still lodged in the professor’s frozen mouth, wearing the calmest smile anyone had ever seen.