I Killed The Main Characters

Chapter 124: End Of The Second Act [2]

[A/N: Webnovel messed up the order, read "End Of The Second Act [1]" First. Thank You :)]

As I crept back into the academy, the place had turned into a nightmare—a fitting stage for the chaos I'd planned.

Screams and the sound of shattering glass echoed through the halls as dark creatures and spectral spirits rampaged through, summoned as the twisted result of the Second Act's unraveling.

Shadows crept along the walls, and whispers slithered in the air, each sound adding another layer to the terror gripping the academy.

It was in this bedlam that I had the perfect cover for what I needed to do.

I'd arranged for a letter to be delivered to Rylan Voss, luring him to the Hall of the Sacred Ashes.

It wasn't difficult to know what strings to pull with Rylan—honor and duty had always been his fatal flaw, his Achilles' heel.

He craved opportunities to prove himself, to act as the beacon of justice and courage, even though that need had begun corroding him from the inside.

He'd always seen himself as a savior, a martyr if necessary.

And if I dangled a chance to act on that, he'd take the bait without a second thought.

The letter said that Amy and the others were under attack near the Hall and needed urgent help.

The message spoke to the ideals Rylan couldn't resist—virtue, loyalty, a call to protect others.

He'd go. He'd have to go.

And when he arrived, he would find a nightmare tailor-made for him.

I was there, hiding in the shadows when he arrived.

As expected, his face showed no hesitation.

He moved with purpose, his steps quick and confident, his gaze set in a grim resolve.

He looked every bit the hero he so desperately wanted to be.

I could almost laugh at how predictable he was.

With a silent command, I activated the ring.

The illusion began to take hold, twisting the form of the first person he saw—Amy—into something entirely different in Rylan's eyes.

I watched as she morphed into an apparition of his elder brother, a figure that had haunted him from his past.

Her body flickered and changed, and where her face had been, Rylan saw his brother, twisted and grotesque, mocking him with a sneer of disdain.

The ring's illusion magic seeped into his mind, showing him what he most feared.

Drawing out the bitter memories that he'd buried but never forgotten.

To Rylan, Amy had become a sinister creature, flickering back and forth between the nightmarish image of his elder brother and a dark beast, much like the spirits terrorizing the academy.

She moved in his perception as a shifting, taunting apparition.

I saw the way his expression tightened, his brow furrowing in a mix of fear and fury.

He looked trapped, his composure slipping with each second he faced her.

As Rylan charged at her, every blow he aimed at her was fueled by years of repressed anger.

Each strike seemed to draw him deeper into his madness, his rage consuming him.

The illusion had taken root in his mind, dredging up his most painful memories, which bled into his vision and poisoned his thoughts.

I could see it in the way he fought—a desperation mingled with something darker.

The ring had done its work well.

I knew a bit about the burden Rylan carried, the memories he'd never freed himself from.

His elder brother had always been everything he was not: powerful, respected, and the true heir of the Voss family.

Rylan was the abandoned child, left to the sidelines while his brother thrived, a constant reminder of his inadequacy.

He'd always been told he was lesser, a mere shadow of his elder sibling, someone born without purpose or worth.

And now, as he fought, a memory seemed to seize hold of him.

A memory so strong that even I could see the fear etched on his face, like he was trapped in a waking nightmare.

He remembered standing in the cold, outside the Voss estate, watching as his family dined without him.

They were laughing, dressed in their finest, celebrating an occasion he couldn't even remember anymore.

He'd been left out, standing barefoot in the snow, shivering and clutching a thin cloak around himself.

He'd hoped his brother might notice him, maybe even call him inside.

But his brother only looked at him with that cruel, dismissive gaze, a look that said, "You don't belong here. You never will."

The sting of that memory showed on his face now, twisted in fury and hurt.

He'd tried so hard to be someone they could be proud of, to prove he was worthy of the Voss name.

But it had never been enough.

In this moment, he wasn't fighting Amy.

He was fighting the specter of his past, his own brother's ghost, the monster that had haunted him since his childhood.

As he lashed out, Amy, who still saw him as me, struggled to defend herself.

She moved with grace, her sword clashing against his with a grim determination.

But Rylan's strength and fury were overwhelming.

Each time she blocked a blow, he struck harder, the illusion feeding into his anger, blurring the line between memory and reality.

He was losing himself, slipping further into the shadow of his own desires, his own corrupted sense of honor.

I watched as he staggered, exhausted but driven, his movements frantic and desperate.

His vision blurred, his senses dulled as he succumbed to the darkness festering within him.

It was then that he faltered, his body seeming to move beyond his control.

His grip on his sword slackened, and I knew he'd reached the edge of his strength.

He was defeated, but not by Amy—by his own ghosts, his own failure to conquer the demons that lived in his mind.

As he sank to his knees, the fight left him, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Amy, bloodied and breathless, looked down at him, the shock evident on her face.

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She didn't know who he saw, what vision he'd been fighting.

Only after driving a sword in him, did she realise.

I knew Amy would be horrified at what she'd done.

She hadn't set out to kill anyone, especially not another student from a noble family.

Her horror would consume her, leaving her vulnerable and guilt-ridden.

She'd want to hide this, to pretend it hadn't happened.

And she'd have no choice but to cover it up, knowing that if anyone found out, it would spark a war between their families, breaking the very laws that held their fragile peace.

This was the beginning of her unraveling, a step down a path that would lead her to despair and madness.

I knew that guilt and regret would haunt her from this moment forward.

And if someone were to keep reminding her of it, prodding at her wound, taunting her with her secret... well, she would break.

It was only a matter of time.

One key figure was gone.

Rylan was dead, a victim of his own weaknesses, his own unresolved pain.

And with his death, one of the roots of corruption had been cut away.

There was still one more left.

The story was already off the rails, careening into uncharted territory.

And I was at the helm, steering it toward a new ending.