Why is Background Character the Strongest Now?-Chapter 29(Sword Saintess)

Chapter 29: Chapter 29(Sword Saintess)

The room was massive, drenched in history and pride.

Faded paintings lined the stone walls—each one depicting legendary human generals, their faces stern, their armor cracked with time. Some held spears. Others swords. Their poses were frozen in mid-battle, eyes burning with defiance even through layers of age-worn paint.

The banners above them hung stiff and silent, their gold thread frayed but still gleaming. Every corner of the chamber whispered the same message:

Power. Legacy. Pride.

And in the center of it all chaos.

Kael Arkezen sat floating cross-legged in the air, spinning lazily in a chair made entirely of mana.

Below him, suspended in the center of the room, was Xavier Quinn unconscious, bloodied, and bound in glowing mana chains that crackled with containment seals.

Facing Kael was Vice Principal Varian Raiklan, his dark cloak rustling as he paced.

His voice snapped like a whip.

"What are you saying, Kael!? If he’s infected with miasma, we can’t risk keeping him alive!"

His fist slammed against the stone railing.

"You should’ve informed me the moment you realized. It’s too late to save him now—we have to kill him!"

Kael stretched his arms overhead with a lazy yawn.

"I didn’t know, old man. I just brought him back."

"Besides, that Ezra kid said he has a way to cure him."

Varian’s eyes blazed.

"Ezra!? You’re trusting a student? A boy? Are you insane?"

Kael rolled his eyes.

"Tch. I don’t care what you think. But maybe... just maybe, you should show a little respect."

He leaned back in the air, letting the chair drift lazily upward.

"After all... Ezra’s the disciple of the Sword Emperor."

That stopped Varian cold.

The room fell quiet, save for the faint hum of the mana chains.

After a long pause, the Vice Principal’s voice came quieter—but still tense.

"...I’ll speak to the Headmistress about this."

Without another word, he turned and vanished in a flash of teleportation.

Kael remained in the air, perfectly relaxed.

He pulled a book from his spatial ring, cracked it open, and began reading as if nothing had happened.

"What a pain," he muttered, flipping a page. "So dramatic."

The chains hummed. The banners didn’t move.

And in that quiet, heavy room of pride and ghosts—Kael read on, while the future of a broken boy hung in limbo.

____________________

In front of the towering gate bearing the crest of Etherlight Academy, Vice Principal Varian Raiklan stood silently.

The gate was enormous—ornate silver runes etched into obsidian-black stone, beautiful enough to belong in a royal palace, yet large enough to let a Titan walk through without ducking.

Varian cleared his throat and gave it a careful knock.

He waited. No words. No impatience.

A moment later, the gate creaked open—not fully, just enough for a single person to slip through.

Inside... was silence.

Unlike other principal offices—filled with trophies, shelves of dusty files, and academic certificates—this room was empty.

No desk. No books. No scrolls.

Just pristine white marble stretching across the floor and walls, reflecting the soft glow of the enchanted dome above.

And at the center of it all, a woman sat in meditation radiating stillness, power, and terrifying calm.

Her hair was like fallen snow, long and flowing, marked by the silver sigil of the ancient Vlastovich family.

Her eyes pure black opened slowly, a jarring contrast to her white hair.

This was Lyssara Vlastovich.

Principal of Etherlight Academy.

Sword Saintess.

Rank 9 one of humanity’s top ten powerhouses.

Her blade was said to rival the Demon Sword himself. Equal to the Sword Duke. Feared even by Blade Fang.

As Varian stepped in and opened his mouth to speak, she simply said—

"I know."

Varian paused. "You... do?"

"I didn’t eavesdrop," Lyssara added, her eyes still half-closed.

"I just listened to what that lazy boy Kael was rambling about from five kilometers away."

Varian cleared his throat awkwardly. "Right. Of course."

She heard that from here? ...I really hope she can’t read minds too.

"No, I can’t," Lyssara said, smirking slightly.

Varian flinched. "...I didn’t say that out loud."

"Didn’t need to," she replied.

He sighed. "So, you know about the boy. Ezra Celesterian. He claims to have a method to cure miasma corruption."

Lyssara was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded.

"Let the boy come to me. I’ll speak with him personally."

She stood slowly, her presence filling the room with sharp pressure, like a drawn sword.

"And while we’re at it... I should inform Senior Ren about this."

Varian nodded. "Understood. I’ll send a letter—"

"A letter?" Lyssara raised an eyebrow. "Varian. We have mana-phones now. Just text him."

Varian blinked. "Mana... what?"

"Check the student-teacher group. His contact’s their."

Varian looked like she had just asked him to cast a Tier 9 summoning spell using chopsticks.

"Can’t I just use a scroll?" he mumbled. "Good old fashioned ink..."

Lyssara sighed. "You’re hopeless. No wonder Kael keeps calling you old man."

Varian gave an offended huff. "I’m not old. I’m... in middle of my lifespan."

"Sure," she replied, walking past him. "And I’m a kid."

___________________

After Varian left, the giant doors shut with a soft echo.

Lyssara Vlastovich stood alone in her marble chamber.

She sighed, reached into her robes, and pulled out a mana phone—a crystalline orb the size of her palm, etched with glowing runes.

With a flick of her finger, she scrolled through her contacts.

Ring... ring...

The line connected after a few moments.

A deep, slightly amused voice answered on the other side.

"Oh? Did my disciple already cause trouble for you?"

Lyssara exhaled sharply through her nose, half a sigh, half a chuckle.

"Senior Ren... actually, it’s the opposite. Your disciple is claiming he can cure people infected by miasma."

Silence.

A long one.

Then Ren spoke again—dryly.

"...You must be joking. Is this a prank call?"

"I wish it was," Lyssara said calmly. "But no. He’s serious."

"He said he could heal a first-year student who’s already been exposed."

Another pause.

"That’s insane," Ren muttered. No one can cure miasma infected people only holy power can cure it . Are you sure he said that?"</em>">"No one can cure miasma infected people only holy power can cure it . Are you sure he said that?"1

"He insisted. That’s why I wanted to ask if you—by any chance—taught him something secret."

"No," Ren said flatly. "I didn’t teach him anything like that. But... if he really believes it, I say we let him try. Worst case, we still execute the infected student before the seven-day Council deadline."

Lyssara frowned. "That’s exactly the problem. The Council is already unhappy after last semester’s incident. If we fail again—"

"I’ll handle the Council myself," Ren cut in. "Don’t say anything yet. I’ll speak with them in a week."

Lyssara nodded slowly. "If you say so, Senior."

There was a pause.

Then Ren’s voice turned cold.

"But here’s the real question—how did a student at Etherlight Academy get infected with miasma without anyone noticing? Isn’t that a failure of your detection systems?"

Lyssara’s face tightened.

"I’ve been asking myself the same thing."

"If this becomes public, Etherlight’s reputation could collapse. And I don’t think the Council will tolerate another slip."

"They won’t," Ren replied bluntly. "Which is why, for the next month, I need you to stay in the capital. The Anti-Alliance Summit will be held in the Dwarven Kingdom. I’ll be gone. Dimitrius will come with me."

"So I’ll be in charge of defense," Lyssara said with a sigh. "There goes my secluded cultivation plans."

"Lyssara," Ren said sternly. "If you want to keep cultivating... protect the place where you cultivate first."

Lyssara clicked her tongue, annoyed—but accepted. "Yes, Senior."

"One more thing," Ren added. "Our intel says Vampire Lord Alaric is planning something. A large-scale attack on Etherlight City—and possibly the Academy."

"We believe that student... the infected one... may be part of their plan."

Lyssara’s expression hardened.

Her black eyes gleamed like sharpened blades.

"Then I’ll root them out myself."

"Don’t alert anyone," Ren warned. "Investigate quietly. If there are enemies hidden in your school, we’ll crush them in the dark."

Lyssara’s voice was low and calm.

"Understood. I’ll filter out the trash... silently."

The call ended with a faint pulse of light.

And once again, silence filled the room—except now, it was sharpened.

Like the breath before a drawn sword.

________________

Author note

So, okay, listen up my beautiful chaos-loving readers.

Let me explain miasma real quick, because I know some of y’all are probably thinking:

"Wait... is miasma a perfume brand? A dark spell? A pet name for evil smoke?"

Nope. None of that. Though honestly, "Eau de Miasma" does sound kind of cool.

Anyway—

Miasma is this man-like thingy (yes, very scientific), originally found in monsters back in the ancient days—before demons started their whole "world domination but sexy" arc.

Back then, humans had no clue what to do with it.

They were like:

"Ooh, scary fog—let’s run."

Or worse:

"Let’s inhale it and hope for the best!"

(Spoiler: it was never the best.)

Then came the demons, all smug and gothic:

"Hey humans, wanna harness some forbidden power and completely ruin your mental stability?"

And humans, being humans, said:

"Sign me up!"

Thus, the first miasma users were born.

And they either died... or worse—became edgy final boss material.

Why?

Because miasma is like energy on steroids mixed with emotional trauma.

If you use it:

You might get cool powers.

You will lose your sanity.

And you might start writing poetry about darkness and betrayal.

The few who survive miasma poisoning get stronger, sure.

But also crueler, crazier, and way more dramatic.

Like:

"The world abandoned me, so now I shall abandon it!"

Dude, you just drank purple smoke. Chill.

So actually people infected with little bit miasma can be treated with advance machine but in large amount some one like xavier can’t.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by fre(e)webnov(l).com