The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character
Chapter 118: Protagonist Always Arrives Late [4]

Chapter 118: Protagonist Always Arrives Late [4]

I could barely move.

Everything ached.

My lungs burned with each breath, and the metallic taste of blood sat heavy on my tongue. I was slumped against the cold wall, eyes half-lidded, body refusing to obey—but my mind was still sharp. Still watching.

I saw Lena.

Standing tall, calm... firm.

And I saw Ethan.

Grinning like a madman, a broken devil wearing borrowed strength, with insects crawling from his skin, hissing, clicking, forming unnatural shapes.

He was moving again. No—they were moving.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of insect monsters swirled around him, like a storm condensed into a man.

He lifted his hand.

The insects surged forward.

And at the same time, he charged.

A two-pronged assault. Classic. Efficient. Cruel.

She’d have to divide her focus—handle the monsters or defend against him.

Anyone else would’ve died right then.

But Lena... she didn’t flinch.

My heart stopped as the swarm reached her first, screaming through the air like black razors. They blocked my view, swallowed the light.

I wanted to yell something. Anything.

But my voice was gone.

Please... move. Please—

Then, a flash of light.

A wave of wind burst outward like a silent explosion.

The swarm scattered in every direction—some shattered against the walls, others pinned to the ceiling like crushed paper.

And Lena, standing in the center of it all, didn’t even lower her guard.

She was already turning—already reading Ethan’s movement.

He was coming in low, legs bent, his arm stretching unnaturally with blackened spikes. His eyes were wide—too wide.

Like he wanted to die, so long as he took someone with him.

Lena met him head-on.

Their fists collided, and the shockwave rattled my ribs from across the room.

But this time... Ethan didn’t laugh.

This time, he stumbled back.

His arm had cracked. I heard it.

But even then, his grin returned.

"You’re trying so hard for them," he spat, eyes flicking briefly toward us students. "Why? You know they’ll just move on. They’ll forget your name."

"I don’t care," she said simply, breathing hard but steady. "They deserve a future to forget me in."

She turned her hand, twisted, and slammed her palm into his ribs.

He wheezed. Blood shot from his mouth.

Still, he laughed.

"I’ll bury you in their future, Lena."

He clicked his tongue—and more insects poured out of the cracks in the floor. I saw some students scream and duck, Natasha pulling someone out of the way just in time.

I grit my teeth. Damn it.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t help.

All I could do was watch.

Damn! Where the hell is Ryen?

Why can’t a Protagonist arrive in time for once?!

Damn it!

------

Few minutes later....

It looked even.

From where I was lying, it almost felt like Lena was being pushed back.

Step by step. Breath by breath.

Ethan advanced with each flurry of insects, every jagged swing of his grotesque arm, and the relentless swarm kept closing in.

But I knew better.

So did Ethan.

This wasn’t a fight he could win.

Not anymore.

Lena wasn’t the same woman he fought back then.

Her movements were sharper. Calmer. Grounded.

She didn’t flinch when he roared, didn’t hesitate when the insects swarmed, didn’t even blink when he came at her with full killing intent.

If she was retreating, it was because she was conserving energy, watching—waiting.

Ethan, on the other hand, was burning himself out.

He was bleeding. Breathing ragged. Muscles twitching from poison and exhaustion. Even the monstrous insects he conjured had started to look... slower. Erratic. As if they sensed the tide shifting.

And he knew it.

I could see it in his eyes.

There was no panic.

No desperation.

Only a cold, cruel acceptance.

And hate.

So much hate.

He lowered his hand, halting the insects for a moment.

He looked at Lena—not like an opponent, but like something that offended him just by existing.

"I don’t like you," Ethan said, voice hoarse, yet oddly casual. "Not one bit."

Lena didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. The wind around her spoke for her. Ready. Constant.

Ethan chuckled, a bitter sound, like he was laughing at some private joke only he could understand.

"Do you know why?" he asked. "Why people like you disgust me?"

He stepped forward, his tone growing colder with each word.

"It’s not because you’re strong. Not because you showed up to ruin my fun. It’s not even because you’re pretending to be some kind of savior."

He pointed toward us—toward the injured, shivering students behind her.

"It’s them. You act like you’re saving them, but what are you really doing?"

Lena narrowed her eyes.

He grinned wider.

"Do you think any of them will thank you in ten years?" he sneered. "They’ll grow up, get chewed up by the same system you’re serving. Some will be betrayed by people they trust and fall into despair. Some will betray others and become just like me. The good ones? The ones who idolize you?" He spat on the ground. "They’ll die early. Probably alone. One stupid mistake, one bad call in the field."

He turned slowly, arms out, like he was presenting some great, ugly truth.

"They won’t be praised. They’ll be feared. Criticized. Dragged through the mud by the very people they saved. And when they break? When they snap? You’ll stand there again—judging. Condemning. Pretending you’re better."

He took a shaky breath.

"But the truth is, you’re just delaying the inevitable."

Lena clenched her fists, but didn’t speak.

He didn’t wait.

"That’s why I’m doing them a favor. A mercy." His eyes gleamed with something close to sincerity—and that was the scariest part. "Better to die now. While they still have hope. While they’re still innocent. Before the world crushes them like it did me."

I felt my stomach twist.

Not from pain—but from the terrifying clarity in his voice.

He believed it.

Every word.

Lena finally stepped forward.

Her voice, low and firm, cut through the silence like a blade.

"They’re not you."

Ethan blinked.

"They won’t become you," she continued. "Because we’re here. Because people still fight to make the world better. You couldn’t stop it then, and you won’t now."

For a moment, Ethan looked tired.

Old, even.

Then he grinned again—wide, cracked, cruel.

"Well," he said softly, "I guess we’ll see."

And with that, he raised both hands.

The swarm screamed forward again.

And this time, he charged with them.

Side by side.

One final dance.

The room lit up with sound and fury.

And I—helpless, aching, barely conscious—watched as the storm fell upon her.

Because despite what Ethan believed...

Lena wasn’t here to delay the inevitable.

She was here to change it.

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