Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins -
Chapter 40: Student Council War 6
Chapter 40: Student Council War 6
Dawn never truly reached the depths of the Obsidian Forest. Even when the sun rose, its golden rays only kissed the treetops—never the soil where war brewed.
Today, the war would tilt. Not with swords. Not with monsters.
But with brilliance.
"We’re abandoning the fortress."
The war room fell into stunned silence.
Layla’s violet eyes narrowed. "Explain."
I tapped a sequence on the glowing terrain map. The fortress, our well-defended stronghold, flickered before vanishing. In its place, a series of subterranean tunnels and echo chambers materialized—an ancient structure beneath the forest known as the Crimson Labyrinth.
Liora Nowa whistled softly. "This was sealed decades ago."
"Exactly," I said. "No one would expect us to hide there. Not when it’s a known death trap."
Lucielle folded her arms. "So your grand plan is to retreat into a tomb?"
"No," I corrected. "My plan is to turn that tomb into a battlefield. One where every hallway is a funnel, every chamber a trap, every shadow our ally."
Layla frowned. "It’s a high-risk move."
"It’s the only move," I replied. "Rayne’s launching an all-out offensive. The Soulbrand attack isn’t subtle—it’s rage wrapped in mana. If we stay here, we fight on his terms. If we vanish underground, we lure them into our terms."
I looked at Seraphina, whose gaze was unreadable. "Your sabotage bought us time. Let’s make it count."
She gave a single nod.
Midnight – Phase One: The Exodus
We left the fortress silently, cloaked in shadow spells and cloaking mist. Noora and Liora Nowa led the vanguard, erasing all traces of our exit. Garrick remained behind with spectral doubles of the entire faction—illusions designed to mimic heat, sound, and movement.
Rayne’s scouts would see a fortress still buzzing with life.
In reality, we were ghosts.
The entrance to the Crimson Labyrinth yawned open like a demon’s grin. Old enchantments cracked as Layla and Liora poured mana into the ancient wards. A gust of stale air blew out—thick with centuries-old dust and faint blood magic.
"Feels like home," Lucielle muttered.
02:00 Hours – Phase Two: Maze Encoding
Inside the Labyrinth, every path split into three or more. Every corridor twisted like the belly of a serpent. Echoes bent sound. Mana currents flickered wildly. I’d studied this place for weeks—mapped it using shadow familiars and ancient archives. But now, it was time to weaponize it.
With the team gathered in the central chamber, I began deploying the stratagem.
"Each of you will command a quadrant. Use these." I tossed each team leader a glyph-crystal.
Lucielle, Liora, Garrick, and Layla caught them without question.
"These will control the corridor illusions. Light. Noise. Gravity. Time delay fields. You can alter the very physics of your section—turn walls into doors, sound into silence, up into down."
Layla raised a brow. "You’re giving us full reality-warping control?"
"Only in limited bursts. Each crystal stores two minutes of high-level manipulation. Use it sparingly—only when you can break morale or bait an ambush."
Garrick grinned. "I like this game already."
"Seraphina, you’re with me."
She blinked. "Why me?"
"Because I need someone who can think like Rayne."
03:15 Hours – Phase Three: Bait the Blade
As expected, Rayne’s army reached the fortress just after dawn. They breached the illusion barrier within minutes. Rin burst through the front gates only to find mannequins and shadow doubles.
Then the explosions started.
Mana mines. Collapse glyphs. Acid fog.
By the time they realized the base was empty, it was too late.
Rayne growled. "Where is he?"
"Underground," Nyx said, reading the leyline shifts. "He’s gone into the Crimson Labyrinth."
"Perfect," Rayne muttered. "He’s buried himself."
06:00 Hours – Phase Four: The First Fall
Rin led the vanguard into the Labyrinth. They moved cautiously—Rayne wasn’t reckless—but confidence still clung to their formation. Their mistake.
The first trap activated at Junction 3.
Illusions turned hallways into spirals. Footing failed. The ground turned liquid. Liora’s trap.
One team was swallowed into a mirrored floor that dropped them into a chamber of sleeping shadow beasts—controlled by Noora.
In another corridor, Seraphina and I stood cloaked. We watched Vexis’s undead scouts stumble into a dead-end designed to reflect their necrotic signals back at them. They collapsed in confusion, trapped in their own feedback loop.
"This is surgical," Seraphina murmured.
I didn’t smile.
"Just wait."
07:30 Hours – Phase Five: Divide and Devour
Now that the main Galat force was fractured across the maze, it was time to pick them apart.
Lucielle’s quadrant unleashed her signature weapon: Displacement Zones. The enemy thought they were walking straight. Instead, they looped back every 200 meters. Soldiers panicked. Started attacking each other, thinking they were illusions.
Liora Nowa weaponized silence. Her sector nullified sound completely—commands, footsteps, even spell chants. Rayne’s elite mages walked into her trap and were ambushed by Garrick’s brute force.
And Layla—she led them through a gravity-flipped corridor where up was down and their own weapons became hazards. She disabled six units with no direct conflict.
But the real prize was still ahead.
Rayne.
He was heading straight toward us.
08:00 Hours – Final Phase: The Crimson Mirror
I had prepared a special chamber just for him.
He entered the Heart Chamber—an arena made of pure obsidian and shadowglass. One by one, illusion clones of myself appeared around him, all mimicking my voice.
He spun, slicing wildly.
Seraphina stood in the shadows behind him.
She could end it.
Strike now.
But she waited.
Watched.
"ASHEN!" Rayne roared. "SHOW YOURSELF!"
I stepped from the real shadows.
"I already did. You just couldn’t tell which one I was."
He lunged. I parried. Our blades met with a crash of mana and fury.
"I gave you everything," he snarled. "And you stole it all."
"No," I said coldly. "I just refused to lose."
The fight was brutal. Rayne had raw power. But this was my home. My stage. My script.
Finally, as he raised his sword for a finishing strike, I activated the final glyph beneath his feet.
The Crimson Mirror shattered—and the ceiling above him fell like a guillotine of shadows.
He vanished beneath it.
I turned to Seraphina.
She walked forward slowly.
"Is it over?"
"No," I said. "But the board’s mine now."
Above us, the war map shifted.
Galat’s forces—halved.
Our losses—minimal.
I looked around at the maze I had turned into a war machine.
And I whispered to the shadows:
"Checkmate."
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