svetikya Chapter 17 Word Power. Moment
Chapter 17 Word Power. Moment
"Beautiful!" A clear female voice came from the second floor, "Nono is out! We won! Caesar, you lost!"
Lu Mingfei looked up.
Beside the railing on the second floor stood a girl with long black hair. She wore the same crimson combat uniform as Nono, and held a huge sniper rifle—a Barrett M82A1—with wisps of smoke rising from its muzzle. A victorious smile graced her face, her eyes curving into crescents.
"Susie! Well done!" another male voice came from outside. "Now only Chu Zihang is left! Meet in the parking lot!"
"Roger that!" The black-haired girl, Susie, hoisted the Barrett onto her shoulder and turned to leave.
Lu Mingfei looked at Nuonuo on the ground, at her combat uniform stained red, at her closed eyes and pale face.
Then, he looked at the smiling girl on the second floor.
anger.
It wasn't an explosive, hysterical anger, but a cold, deep-seated anger. Like the permafrost of Siberia, like the undercurrents of the deep sea, like the magma surging beneath a dormant volcano.
lonely.
It's not a self-pitying loneliness, but a cosmic, timeless loneliness. Like a planet drifting in the void, like a civilization sunk in time, like a god forgotten by all.
These two emotions mixed and fermented in his heart, eventually brewing into something terrifyingly calm.
He stood up.
His movements were slow and steady, like a slow-motion scene in a movie. He walked to Nuonuo's side, squatted down, and reached out to touch her face—it was cold, without any warmth.
"I don't like girls who lack warmth," he said softly, as if talking to himself.
Then, he raised his head and looked at Fingel, who was still pretending to be dead: "Senior brother."
Fingel peeked at him through his fingers, his expression complex.
"Could you please look after my senior sister's body?" Lu Mingfei's tone was eerily calm. "I'll be back soon."
After saying that, he stood up, walked to Professor Guderian's side, and pulled out a spare pistol from the professor's waist—also a modified PPK, loaded with Frigga's bullets.
Fingel finally couldn't hold back any longer and whispered, "Junior, this is just..."
"I know," Lu Mingfei interrupted him, checking the pistol's magazine. "Live-action CS, Freedom Day, Frigga bullets. I know all of that."
His voice remained calm, but in those always droopy eyes, something Fingel had never seen before was now burning.
"But my senior sister is 'dead,'" Lu Mingfei said, "right in front of me."
He turned around, looked in the direction Susie had left on the second floor, and began to chant.
It wasn't human language, nor the script of any existing civilization—it was dragon script, ancient, obscure, with a metallic texture and the heat of fire. Syllables flowed from his mouth, each sound seemingly weighty, stirring visible ripples in the air.
Professor Guderian once mentioned that the Kassel College was covered by the Vice Principal's Word of Power "Commandment," which suppressed all students' Word of Power abilities, rendering them unusable.
But Lu Mingfei's chanting was not hindered in any way.
His speech quickened, his voice grew clearer. In the library, the ancient books on the shelves began to vibrate slightly, as if resonating. Dust in the air began to swirl, forming tiny vortices.
Fingel stared in disbelief at the scene. He could feel the surrounding space distorting and time slowing down—no, it was Lu Mingfei speeding up.
The seventh-order instant.
The moment Long Wen finished chanting, Lu Mingfei disappeared.
No, it didn't disappear; it moved so fast that the naked eye couldn't detect it. Only a faint afterimage remained, like a light trail in time-lapse photography.
The next second, a gunshot rang out from the second floor.
"Bang!"
Then came the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground.
Lu Mingfei appeared by the second-floor railing, holding Susie's Barrett sniper rifle. Susie herself lay on the ground, blue smoke exploding from her chest, her face still showing a shocked expression.
"You..." She opened her mouth, but couldn't utter a complete sentence.
Lu Mingfei didn't look at her. He lifted the heavy Barrett rifle with one hand and jumped from the second floor, landing as lightly as a feather.
He walked back to Fingel and handed him the Barrett: "Hold this for me."
Finger instinctively took the gun—it was heavy, at least fifteen kilograms, but Lu Mingfei had just lifted it with one hand as if it were a tree branch.
Lu Mingfei walked to Nuonuo's side and carefully picked her up. His movements were very light and gentle, as if he were holding a fragile piece of porcelain. Nuonuo's body leaned softly against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, her red hair falling down and brushing against his arm.
Seeing this, Fingel wanted to say, "It's just a game. She's just been anesthetized and will wake up soon," but looking into Lu Mingfei's eyes, the words stuck in his throat and he couldn't say them.
That's not the look in a game.
That was the look in his eyes—a genuine belief that the person in his arms was dead, a look of genuine sadness and anger.
Lu Mingfei carried Nuonuo to the wall, let her sit down against it, and tidied her hair and collar, as if he were preparing her for a funeral.
Then he got up and took the Barrett back from Fingel's hand.
"Senior, do you know the difference between drama and reality?" he suddenly asked.
Fingel shook his head.
"Drama has a script, a director, and a curtain call." Lu Mingfei stroked the cold barrel of the Barrett gun. "But reality doesn't. Reality is just endless chaos and chance."
He paused, then looked up at the window: "But today, I want reality to have its final curtain call."
Intermittent sounds came through the walkie-talkie—it was from Susie falling off.
"Susie? Susie? Please respond if you hear me!"
"Nono's out, Susie's gone missing... Chu Zihang, where are you?"
"The parking lot. Caesar is here too. The final showdown."
"Roger that. We're coming to your aid."
Lu Mingfei picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the call button: "No need to come over."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end: "Who are you?"
"Lu Mingfei. Freshman." His voice came through the radio waves, eerily calm. "There are three people in the center of the stage now: Caesar, Chu Zihang, and me. But there can only be one protagonist."
"What do you want?" The voice on the walkie-talkie became wary.
Lu Mingfei didn't answer. He turned off the walkie-talkie and looked at Fingel: "Senior, do you know the difference between a leader and a tyrant?"
Fingel shook his head again.
"A leader can be a tyrant, but he must never be a clown," Lu Mingfei said. "My senior sister is dead, and this play needs a dignified ending. And I don't want to be the clown."
He hoisted the Barrett onto his shoulder—a move so stylish it was unbelievable, completely unlike a freshman who had only handled a gun for less than an hour. The setting sun streamed in through the window, gilding him with gold, and the shadows outlined his lean yet upright features.
Looking at his pathetic junior brother, Fingel suddenly felt his throat go dry.
Damn, this kid... is incredibly handsome.
"Wait for me to come back," Lu Mingfei said, then turned and walked towards the door.
His steps were steady, each one measured and deliberate. The Barrett rifle was slung over his shoulder, its barrel pointing skyward, like a medieval knight's lance.
As I stepped out of the service center, the fighting was still raging outside. Student council members in crimson combat uniforms and Lionheart members in black combat uniforms were locked in fierce combat everywhere, with Frigga's bullets whizzing through the air and blue smoke billowing up and down.
Lu Mingfei did not dodge.
He carried the gun, walking through the hail of bullets. Bullets were fired at him, but he would simply shift his body slightly or quicken his pace, and the bullets would whiz past him. His movements were so precise, as if he had calculated the trajectories of the bullets.
Someone noticed him and raised their gun to aim.
Without even looking, Lu Mingfei raised his hand and fired a shot—using the pistol he'd taken from Susie with his other hand. The bullet struck the opponent precisely in the chest, and blue smoke exploded.
He continued forward as if walking in a deserted place.
We walked all the way to the parking lot.
A large crowd had already gathered there. The student council and Lionheart Society elites stood clearly on either side, while two people faced off in the open space in the middle.
The blond Caesar Gattuso, dressed in a white tailored suit, held his iconic Dick Tudor hunting knife in his hand. Chu Zihang, in black, wore a simple combat uniform, his Murasame sword already drawn, the blade shimmering in the setting sun.
Both men had blue marks on their bodies—clearly they had exchanged blows and each had hit the other, but they were still standing because the numbing effect of Frigga's bullet needed time to build up.
All eyes were on them.
Until Lu Mingfei walked in.
Carrying the Barrett, he walked step by step to the center of the parking lot and stood between Caesar and Chu Zihang.
"A new student?" someone exclaimed. "How did he get in?"
"That's Susie's gun!"
"What does he want to do?"
Caesar and Chu Zihang both looked at him.
"Lu Mingfei?" Caesar raised an eyebrow. "The freshman Nono brought back? What are you doing here? This isn't your business."
Chu Zihang didn't speak, but looked at him with his ever-burning golden eyes, a hint of doubt in his gaze.
Lu Mingfei put down the Barrett, the butt of which hit the ground with a heavy thud.
"I'm here to end this scene," he said. "With my senior sister gone, I'm not in the mood to watch you guys act out a hero showdown."
Caesar laughed, a condescending smile in his eyes: "Interesting. How do you intend to end this?"
Lu Mingfei did not answer. He lifted the Barrett, his movement so fast that it left only a blur.
Without a scope or a tripod, he simply stood there, holding up the anti-materiel sniper rifle with one hand—a heavy weapon that theoretically requires a prone firing position.
Caesar and Chu Zihang's expressions changed simultaneously.
They could sense that the new student's eyes were different. It wasn't a provocation, nor a boast, but rather a... declaration.
This signals their departure.
"Bang!"
First shot.
Caesar moved the instant the shot rang out, Dick Tudor holding his chest to try and block. But he was fast, and the bullet was faster. Frigga's bullet traced a blue trajectory through the air, striking him precisely in the chest.
The white suit exploded into blue smoke.
Caesar took a step back, looking down at his chest, his face filled with disbelief. The anesthetic took effect quickly; his vision began to blur, and his body swayed.
"you……"
"Bang!"
The second shot.
Chu Zihang had already swung his Murasame sword, the blade flashing like lightning, attempting to cleave the bullet. But the Barrett bullet was too fast and too powerful. The instant the blade collided with the bullet, Murasame flew out of his hand, the bullet's momentum undiminished, striking Chu Zihang in the chest as well.
Blue smoke billowed from the black combat suit.
Chu Zihang knelt on one knee, supporting himself with his hands on the ground, his golden eyes fixed on Lu Mingfei, as if trying to etch him into his memory.
Then, the two of them collapsed almost simultaneously.
The entire room fell silent.