At the academy infirmary, doctors were running in every direction. Everything was a mess as they treated the surviving students from classes C and D. The higher-ranked students had survived, though injured.
Borem watched it all from afar.
"What a disaster… how did this happen?"
"We don't really know, but it didn't just happen at the academy,"
said Sir Drenholm, arriving with a worried expression.
"What do you mean?"
Virelle asked, looking toward the room where class D's surviving students lay.
"There have been many reports across the entire continent that the dungeon difficulties suddenly increased, and many mages died. The king has declared that no one is to enter a dungeon until further notice."
Sir Drenholm sat beside Virelle, Borem, concerned, sat down as well.
"This is a disaster… What do we do with the students now? They might give up."
"If they give up, let them. At least they'll live safer lives"
After Sir Drenholm's words, all three looked toward the room, Virelle never taking her eyes off it.
---
Enrico suddenly woke up in the infirmary and tried to sit up, wincing in pain as he felt his arm aching, realizing it was bandaged. He looked to one side and saw Kai in the bed next to him, and on the other side, Valença—both still unconscious.
"Someone with healing magic… must've been water-based, I feel like I was soaked. Makes sense."
He still felt the pain of his broken arm despite being healed—it would take a while to fully recover.
Enrico leaned back in bed, Tolen's face flashing in his mind. He clenched his fist, feeling the pain, and got out of bed. The moment he stepped onto the floor, he collapsed—but someone caught him, supporting his arm.
"Professor Virelle…"
He saw the teacher and stood up straight. In front of this woman, he couldn't show weakness.
"You should be resting."
Her eyes seemed to glint with something, but she gently laid Enrico back in bed and thought, 'He doesn't want to show weakness in front of me. I admire that.'
Virelle leaned against the wall while Enrico stared at the floor.
"We've already notified the families. In three days, there will be a funeral for the students at the warrior's cemetery."
She stepped away from the wall, seeing Enrico still silent, and began to leave. Just before reaching the door, she turned her head.
"You all did well to survive… so don't give up."
The door closed, and Enrico gave a bitter smile.
"As if I could give up."
If he gave up, he'd die eventually anyway—and maybe sooner than he thought, with how difficult this world had become.
[ You did well ]
The system appeared—and to his surprise, didn't crack a joke.
[ Your reward was integrity. You've earned a unique skill. ]
This surprised Enrico, though he didn't get too excited. 'What is it?'
[Skill] Magic Clone: The user can create a clone of their magic type by sacrificing 20% of their mana. In return, the clone has 20% of the user's capabilities.
Only one clone can be generated.
Clone duration is 5 minutes.
The clone doesn't resemble the user—it's made of pure magic.
Enrico lowered his head. 'I knew it… It's not that great. Too many limitations. After all I went through… this is it?'
[...]
He clenched his fist. 'No, it doesn't matter. Even if it's weak, I'll use it however I can.'
Enrico summoned the clone. Its appearance didn't even resemble him—in fact, it didn't have a face. It was just made of fire. Even so, the flames reflected in Enrico's eyes, accompanied by one thought:
'Get stronger.'
---
Three days later, everyone had woken up and were attending the funeral, watching families cry over the deaths of their children. The academy did everything possible to support the families of the fallen.
This academy was only for the strong, but even here, they respected the dead.
Enrico stepped aside after speaking with Cris's family at the grave. He spoke to everyone—even those he had never talked to before.
After walking a bit more, he saw three people: a thirteen-year-old girl crying, a woman with tears in her eyes, and a man with the most exhausted expression Enrico had ever seen.
"Sir, ma'am… My name is Enrico. I was a friend of Tolen." He bowed.
"You're Enrico? He mentioned you a lot in his letters, always talking about how you trained even more than he did."
Tolen's father wore a sad smile.
'Seems like he didn't talk much about the original Enrico… Makes sense.' Enrico kept observing how the man's shoulders trembled.
"My name is Luiz Rusk. This is my wife, Suria Rusk, and my daughter, Elena Rusk. From what I heard, you were the last person to speak with my son. Did he say anything?"
Enrico pressed his lips together and bowed again.
"He said he was sorry for leaving."
Luiz's eyes widened, tears streaming down his face. Suria covered her mouth, sobbing, and the little girl cried even harder.
"I'm sorry, sir… If I had been stronger—"
"Don't blame yourself, Enrico. You know, I always told my son a phrase to prepare him…"
Luiz turned his back to the grave.
"The world is an unfair place—and always will be."
His shoulders seemed to tremble even more now.
Enrico stayed with them for a long time that day And the next day, he would visit the grave he had made for Chalés as well.