Chapter 21: Chapter 21: A Motivation Not to Die
Thwop. Thwop. Thwop.
Lucian stared out the cracked apartment window as he heard a sound, his golden eyes tracking an aircraft as it cut through the smoke-bruised morning sky. A small helicopter banking hard over the ruins of Vienne City, descending toward the open courtyard of Starlight Academy two kilometers away.
Eyes of the Eternals activated automatically.
The helicopter’s windows were tinted, the signatures blurred by altitude and the layers of mana-dense smoke hanging over the city. But Lucian could make out two heartbeats inside. Strong ones. Cultivators.
One pulsed at Peak Neophyte frequency. The other was denser, heavier — Early Core Realm.
The helicopter landed quietly.
"What is it?" Ryan appeared at his shoulder, squinting at the sky. "Is that a rescue helicopter?"
"Maybe. But we have to reach there fast."
Clara and Lucian spoke in unison: "Alright, but we have to be careful."
They had seven children now — two more than before. A brother and sister, eight and six, who’d been hiding in the apartment when Lucian’s group arrived.
"Either way," Lucian said, pushing off the wall, "they just landed in a courtyard full of zombies."
"So they’re dead," Elise said flatly.
"Or they’re not." He was already moving toward the door. "Only one way to find out. Besides, they seem quick strong."
Ryan grabbed his arm. "Lucian. There are still zombies between here and the academy. Hundreds of them. We barely got out last night."
Lucian looked at the hand on his arm.
Ryan let go.
"Blood Sense covers two hundred meters," Lucian said. "I know every zombie within that radius. The horde that swarmed the dome last night — they’ve dispersed. There are smaller clusters now, spread across four blocks. Disorganized." He paused. "Whatever was controlling them, it pulled back."
"Pulled back," Clara repeated. "Not retreated. Pulled back. Like it’s regrouping."
Lucian looked at her. She was sharper than she let on. Underneath the ice and the fanboys and the chest, there was a decent brain working.
"Yes," he said. "Which is why we move now, while it’s quiet, before it decides to send another wave."
Nobody argued.
They moved through the streets like ghosts.
Lucian led, Blood Sense expanded, navigating around the zombie clusters with surgical precision. Left at the collapsed building. Right through the parking garage. Under the overpass where three normal zombies stood like statues, oblivious to the group passing beneath.
When avoidance wasn’t possible, Clara handled it.
Her ice was silent as a thin blade of frost formed across a zombie’s throat before it could make a sound. The body dropped without a noise.
She’s good, Lucian noted. Better than most Peak Neophytes I’ve seen.
The academy came into view twenty minutes later.
It was swarming.
Zombies filled the courtyard, the hallways visible through broken windows, the rooftop access points. Not as many as last night — the coordinated horde had dispersed — but still dozens, maybe a hundred, spread across the grounds like a grey carpet.
The helicopter sat on the roof.
Lucian pulled the group into a corner beside the main entrance, pressing them against the wall. The zombies hadn’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time.
"I thought you said you’d lead us to the path with fewer zombies," Rose hissed, panic creeping into her voice.
Lucian’s expression was calm. "This is the path with the fewest number of zombies."
Rose stared at him.
"I’ll hold them off and clear a path," Lucian continued, his voice low and even. "You guys reach the helicopter. I’m sure there must have been other students who made it to the roof too. You guys take care of the—"
"Is this goodbye again?"
Clara’s voice cut through his words like a knife.
She was looking at him with an expression he’d never seen on her face before — the Ice Queen, cracking.
"Come on," Lucian said, a reassuring smile spreading across his lips. "I’ll still see you guys again. Don’t go killing me off already."
"Then I’ll stay with you."
"No." Lucian’s voice was firm but not unkind. "I’m the fastest one here. My combat IQ is the best. I can hold them off and escape easily. You can’t."
Clara opened her mouth to argue—
"The more time we waste here," Rose cut in, her voice tight with urgency, "the more our chance of escaping this hell decreases. Clara. Move."
Clara turned to Lucian.
And kissed him.
It happened so fast that nobody reacted for a full second — Clara’s hands on his face, her lips pressed against his, soft and warm and tasting faintly of the canned stew they’d shared hours ago. The children gasped. Ryan’s hand shot out to cover their eyes.
Clara broke the kiss after a few seconds, pulling back with flushed cheeks and wet eyes.
Lucian blinked.
"Well," he said, his smile widening slightly. "That’s a motivation not to die."
Ryan lowered his hand from the kids’ eyes and looked at him with a strained smile.
"You better not die."
"Wouldn’t dream of it."
Lucian turned and walked into the academy.
"HEY!" His voice echoed through the main hall, amplified by vampire-enhanced lungs. "OVER HERE, YOU UGLY FUCKS! COME AND GET ME!"
Every zombie in the building turned.
The horde surged toward him — a wave of grey bodies pouring through doorways and corridors, drawn by the sound, the movement, the scent of living blood.
Lucian drew the Sword of Aikis and smiled.
Let’s dance.
Behind him, the group sprinted for the stairwell. Clara glanced back once — just once — and saw Lucian standing in the center of the main hall, surrounded by zombies, his silver hair bright against the carnage, his blade flashing like lightning.
She turned and ran.
The rooftop was smaller than expected.
The helicopter sat in the center — a medium-sized transport model, sleek and military-grey, rotors still spinning slowly. Its doors were open, and people were already inside.
Eight of them. A mix of students in uniforms and civilians in regular clothes, huddled together in the cramped cabin, eyes wide with fear and relief.
That left four seats.
Seven children. Four adults. Four seats.
The Peak Neophyte cultivator — a broad-shouldered man in his thirties with a scarred face — stepped out of the helicopter and looked at the approaching group. His eyes swept over the children, then over Clara, Rose, Ryan, and Elise.
Then he looked at the female student sitting in the helicopter.
"I thought you said all the other students were dead," he said, his voice flat.
The girl — young, maybe eighteen, brown hair, tear-streaked face — looked away.
"I thought they were," she murmured. "I swear, I thought they were all—"
She was clearly lying. Everyone wanted to get out of this hellhole as fast as possible.
The Early Core Realm cultivator sighed.
He was a tall man — mid-thirties, clean-shaven, with the kind of calm, weathered face that spoke of years dealing with difficult situations. He stepped down from the helicopter and surveyed the group with tired eyes.
"All the kids can enter with one more person," he said. "I’ll stay behind to protect the rest until more rescue comes by."
"Dean—" the Peak Neophyte started.
"That’s not up for discussion, Marcus."
Ryan moved immediately, gathering the children and guiding them toward the helicopter. The smallest boy — the six-year-old with the stuffed rabbit — reached up and grabbed Ryan’s hand, squeezing tight.
Ryan knelt down, meeting the boy’s eyes. He smiled.
"Take care of them, Mei."
Mei — the twelve-year-old with dark hair — nodded, her expression serious beyond her years. "I will."
She climbed into the helicopter, pulling the younger children in after her.
The helicopter could contain the children because they had smaller weights unlike adults.
