Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

Unlike the chaos and screaming inside the academy, the crowd gathered outside to witness the battle was eerily silent.

Everyone shared the same bewildered question—

How did Alan dare to do this?

In front of everyone, he had slain students from the illustrious Lioncrest Academy of the Imperial Capital, and not just any students—he had personally executed Eisen, the academy's brightest rising star.

Lioncrest Academy, once seen as untouchable, had been thoroughly humiliated.

They were trampled underfoot. And instead of stopping Alan, they had only managed to lose more lives to him.

Could it be that Lioncrest Academy was truly helpless against him?

Vice Headmaster Krom, having gathered the few remaining students, quickly led them away from Alan, as though afraid that any further provocation would ignite yet another massacre.

He couldn't understand it.

Eisen—one of the most powerful light-element mages the academy had cultivated with great effort—had died at Alan's hands, without even making a splash.

How?

How had it come to this?

The more Krom thought about it, the more his head throbbed.

And deep within, a flicker of dread began to rise.

What if it had been him facing Alan's holy flame light sword just now?

Would he have survived?

In an instant, Krom ran through multiple battle scenarios in his mind—

Only to reach a chilling conclusion:

Even if it were him, in a head-on clash with Alan's divine sword arts, the odds of survival were slim.

"This brat… How did he grow so strong in such a short time? He's a monster!"

Krom's eyes never left Alan. If he could, he would flay him alive on the spot.

Such a dangerous individual must not be allowed to live!

But Alan didn't even spare Krom a glance.

He walked straight toward the stone pillar where Isabella was imprisoned.

With a wave of his hand, the iron chains binding her dissolved into a pile of ash.

Isabella looked utterly terrified.

She curled up in Alan's arms, trembling violently.

"B-Brother… I'm scared… so scared…"

Alan gently patted her head. All traces of violence and coldness vanished from him.

At this moment, he was just a warm and kind older brother.

"I'm sorry, Isabella. I made you suffer."

Isabella shook her head, choking back tears as she hugged him tightly.

"You don't have to apologize, Brother. It wasn't your fault—it's those bad people's fault!"

Alan lifted his head and cast a dangerous gaze toward the members of Lioncrest Academy.

"You're right. It was their fault."

His voice dropped into a low growl.

Then, still carrying Isabella, he approached the blind noblewoman who had been watching the events unfold.

"Miss, could I trouble you to take care of my little sister for a while?"

The woman gave a calm smile and knelt down, setting her parasol over Isabella's shoulder.

"Go. I promise you—no one will lay a hand on this child while I'm here."

Alan nodded heavily. Then, he turned to leave.

Suddenly, a small hand tugged at the hem of his coat.

He looked back to find Isabella staring up at him with tear-filled eyes.

"Brother… don't go. Please… I don't want you to get hurt."

Alan smiled reassuringly.

"It's alright. I won't get hurt. And remember what I promised?

If anyone dares to bully you…

I'll pay them back tenfold!"

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Just then, a furious shout rang out from the Lioncrest group.

A student raised his staff, eyes bloodshot with rage.

Clearly, grief and terror had driven him to the edge.

They weren't entirely spineless after all.

Watching so many of their classmates die in agony had finally ignited something—

Terror had morphed into fury.

"You… you demon! Don't take one more step toward the academy!"

A fireball, the size of a clenched fist, formed at the tip of his staff.

Alan smirked and stood up, slowly walking toward him.

"Oh? And if I do—what will you do about it?"

"I—! I…!"

As Alan drew closer, the student could no longer hold back.

With a desperate cry, he launched the fireball spell.

But to everyone's shock, the fireball dissipated before it even reached Alan—

It evaporated into harmless mist.

The student stood frozen, dumbfounded.

In that moment of hesitation, Alan appeared before him—

One hand gripping the student's throat in a vice-like hold.

The student's face contorted with pain.

The crushing pressure stole his breath, turning his face an ugly purple-black.

"You want revenge?

Try again in your next life."

With a violent swing, Alan smashed him into the ground.

Suddenly, a cyclone surged in from the side, yanking the student from Alan's grasp and forcing Alan back several paces.

Alan squinted against the debris, quickly clearing his eyes with a burst of water-element mana.

Then he looked toward the source of the wind.

"Krom…"

"The Vice Headmaster is finally stepping in!"

The crowd stirred in excitement.

Alan summoned his holy sword staff once again and pointed it at Krom.

"You old dog… Only capable of sneak attacks, huh?"

Krom opened his mouth to reply—

But Alan suddenly vanished before his eyes.

"Left? No—right? Or above?!"

Krom spun in every direction, checking even overhead and behind himself.

Alan was nowhere to be seen.

Then—

The ground beneath Krom cracked.

Tiny fissures spidered out in all directions.

From the cracks, flaming holy swords erupted like bamboo after rain, lunging straight at his throat.

The strike was swift and perfectly concealed.

Krom had no time to react.

In desperation, he conjured another cyclone, trapping both himself and Alan in its center.

The audience was stunned.

Who was Alan fighting now?

None other than Krom, one of Lioncrest's three vice headmasters!

A peak tier-platinum powerhouse—nearing tier-diamond!

And yet even he…

was forced into using such a self-harming, all-consuming move just to protect himself?!

Everyone watching felt like they were dreaming.

Was this real?

The sandstorm summoned by Krom slowly began to fade.

Then—two figures flew out in opposite directions.

Alan looked a bit disheveled, rolling across the ground several times before managing to stop himself.

Krom, by contrast, was unscathed—

Not even a speck of dust marred his robe.

He turned toward Alan, who was slowly rising from the ground.

A cruel smirk curled on his lips.

"In the end… you're still just a child.

Between tier-bronze and tier-platinum, lie two insurmountable chasms.

There's no way you—"

"Urgh!"

Krom suddenly fell to his knees.

His hands clutched at his chest as blood poured from his lips.

His expression twisted in pain.

He held up a hand to examine the blood—

And his eyes widened in shock.

Within the cyclone he had created—

Among the wind and sand—

Countless razor-thin metallic blades, no larger than grains of sand, had been hidden.

They had mixed with the dust, completely undetectable.

And now, they were shredding him from the inside out.