The Return Of The Exiled Villain

”You damn bastard...! How dare you stand there and say you missed me after everything?!”

Thud!

”Do you have any idea what it was like?! I had to leave! I was forced to leave!”

Thud! Thud!

Her forehead pressed against his collarbone as she continued hitting him, the strength behind each punch fading into something closer to desperate clinging.

The emerald eyes that had been cold only minutes earlier were now red and swollen. The blonde strands mixed into her light-brown hair stuck to her wet cheeks.

”It was because of you,” she whispered in pure anger.

”You pushed me that day. You made me so angry I accepted the sect’s offer just to gain the power to protect you. And then I was gone. Months of training in a place so far away I couldn’t even send a proper message. I thought about you every single day. I trained until my body broke just so I could come back stronger... and the first thing you do when you see me is take every hit without fighting back and then say You missed me?!”

Gray remained still under the repeated strikes.

Blood from the earlier spear wounds still ran down his face and arms, but he made no move to stop her.

His arms stayed at his sides as he simply let her pour everything out.

The arena around them stayed deathly quiet.

Thousands of people watched the girl who had entered with such a strong presence break down completely in front of the boy she clearly loved.

In the VIP section, even Gloria’s expression had softened into something complicated.

Lyra’s punches finally slowed.

Her fists rested against his chest, trembling. She drew in a shaky breath and spoke again, her voice lower and more broken.

”I hated you for making me leave. I hated that I had no real choice once the sect’s offer was accepted. The power-up I used that day to kill the demon... it bound me to them. I couldn’t stay. And the whole time I was gone, I kept thinking... if only you hadn’t provoked me that far, maybe I could have stayed by your side. Maybe we wouldn’t have been separated for so long.”

She lifted her head just enough to look at him.

Drip...

Fresh tears spilled over.

”But I also knew it was the only way I could get strong enough. I saw how dangerous things were becoming. I saw how hard you were fighting alone. So I went. I trained. I reached Peak Saint. I got this spear. And I came back... only to find you standing here, still bleeding for me, still refusing to raise a hand against me.”

Gray’s quiet voice finally answered her.

”I never wanted you to leave, Lyra. That day... I made a mistake. I thought pushing you would give you the strength you needed without costing you so much. I was wrong. The moment you disappeared, I regretted it. Every day since then I’ve carried that regret.”

Lyra’s fists tightened in his robes.

”Then why didn’t you come looking for me? Why did you let me stay gone for so long?”

”Because the place you went to was not somewhere I could simply walk into,” Gray said.

”And because I believed that if you had chosen to accept their training, I had no right to drag you back before you were ready. I waited, and grew stronger in my own way. And I kept the promise I made to myself... that the next time I saw you, I would not let you go again so easily.”

Lyra let out a short, broken laugh that sounded more like a sob.

”A promise... You and your promises. You always say things like that so calmly, as if the months of loneliness and training and worry meant nothing.”

She punched his chest one more time, weaker than before.

”I missed you so much it hurt. I dreamed about coming back and finding you waiting. I dreamed about being angry at you and then forgiving you. And now that it’s real... I don’t know whether to keep hitting you or hold onto you and never let go.”

Gray slowly raised one hand and rested it lightly on the back of her head, fingers gently threading into her half-blonde hair.

He did not pull her closer or try to stop the tears. He simply held her there while she shook against him.

”I’m here...”

Lyra’s shoulders trembled harder.

For a long moment she stayed pressed against him, fists still resting on his chest, breathing unevenly.

The spear lay forgotten on the cracked stone beside them.

The cyan and golden remnants of her earlier aura had completely faded, leaving only the raw emotion between them.

Around the arena, the silence continued.

No one dared interrupt.

Even the referee remained still, understanding that what was happening on the platform was no longer a simple match.

Lyra finally pulled back just enough to look at his face. Her eyes searched his, still wet, still red.

”You’re still bleeding,” she whispered.

”You took everything I threw at you and didn’t even try to defend properly. You idiot.”

”I didn’t want to hurt you,” Gray answered.

”Not after how long it’s been.”

”And what if I had kept going? What if I hadn’t stopped?”

”Then I would have continued taking it,” he said simply.

”Until you were ready to stop.”

Lyra stared at him for several more seconds.

The anger, the longing, the relief, and the lingering hurt all mixed together in her expression. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, then closed it again.

Her hands slowly unclenched from his robes.

The moment stretched.

But just at that moment, Gray’s expression changed as he smiled softly down at her.

”I’m sorry, Lyra.”

Before she could ask what he meant, his right hand moved.

He brought it up in a single, clean motion and chopped the side of her neck with the full strength of his body and mana, enough to knock her unconscious instantly without causing lasting harm.

Thud.

Lyra’s eyes widened slighly before they rolled back.

Her body went limp against him.

Gray caught her carefully before she could fall, lowering her gently onto the platform.

The elimination light of the tournament wrapped around her almost immediately, confirming the end of the match.

Gray remained kneeling beside her for a brief moment, looking down at her peaceful, tear-streaked face.

He brushed a few strands of half-blonde hair away from her cheek with surprising gentleness.

Then he stood.

He glanced once more at the unconscious form of the girl he loved, and a quiet murmur left his lips.

”A promise is a promise...”

His gaze lifted and traveled across the arena until it found the VIP section.

There, Aurora sat watching him with an almost cold expression. Gray’s eyes met hers and held for a long second.

The referee’s voice finally rang out, carrying across the stunned silence of the entire stadium.

”Victory... to Gray Vireux of Clementine’s Sword & Magic Academy!”

He raised his staff higher, and his next words rolled across every section of the grand arena with clear pride.

”With this final victory, the overall winner of the Inter-Academy Tournament is... Clementine Sword & Magic Academy!”

The declaration broke the last of the tension.

The Clementine side erupted in loud, unrestrained cheers.

Students shouted Gray’s name, waved banners, and hugged one another in open celebration.

The rest of the crowd joined in soon after, the sound swelling into a roaring wave that filled the entire stadium.

Even many neutral spectators applauded the unexpected dominance of the black-robed student who had carried his academy alone through the later stages.

Gray paid none of it any attention.

He walked calmly out of the arena with Lyra’s unconscious form held securely in his arms.

Her head rested against his shoulder, half-blonde hair spilling over his blood-stained robes. Despite the reunion that had just taken place, his expression was extremely cold.

A hidden killing intent flowed quietly from his eyes, sharp enough that those closest to his path instinctively stepped aside without realizing why.

In the VIP section, Aurora turned toward Gloria with a satisfied smile.

”Told you... your biggest mistake ever was expelling Gray from your academy.”

She gave Gloria a light wink, then vanished into a cracked fold of space.

Crackk...!

The next moment, a soft, irresistible force pulled her back out.

Aurora stumbled slightly as she reappeared, eyes widening.

”S-Saintess...?”

The Saintess of Hope and Light stood in front of her with a faint smile on her lips.

The smile did not reach her silver eyes, which remained sharp and unyielding, as if daring Aurora to refuse what was about to be asked.

”Bring me to that boy,” the Saintess said softly.

Aurora swallowed hard, then nodded.

”Will do...”

Though she agreed, Aurora couldn’t help but curse inwardly.

But unfortunately, she really couldn’t refuse the Saintess’s request; after all, this was a being that had come from the Upper Plane.

She could probably destroy their whole world with a wave of her hand if she wanted.