The Hunted Regressor: My Heretic Saint System Chapter 191

***

Aurelia wasn’t the only one in the dumps, of course.

Gaia wasn’t doing any better, and quite literally at that.

She sat hunched over her practice slate, her blonde hair slightly frazzled, her brown eyes unfocused in that I-might-start-crying-or-laughing-randomly way, showing just how she’d long since passed her breaking point.

Slowly, she shook her head and tried again, pushing down the depressing thoughts circling her brain. If she kept moving—kept doing something—maybe she wouldn’t have to think.

Gaia was wrong.

For the rest of the night, she didn’t even come close to her best attempt.

Not even close. She could barely hold the Rune’s flow for a few seconds—ten at most—before it sputtered out. Each time it slipped, her mind scattered more, her control loosening.

By the time her bedtime arrived, she finally admitted it:

’I can’t do it.’

She desperately needed a break from this, a long one.

Preferably several centuries, but she’d settle for a few hours of sleep.

It was just… so hard to focus. The Rune required absolute precision, and her current state was a perfect recipe for disaster. Each attempt felt like running through quicksand, the lines turning blurry, the Divinity squirming through her fingers.

The most agonizing part was the subtle changes the headmaster had hidden inside the Rune. Shifts so tiny they were basically invisible. Miss one, and the whole flow snapped.

There were so many of them that she felt like she was unraveling a puzzle blindfolded while underwater, while also possibly dying.

Eventually, she slumped onto her bed and decided she’d do better tomorrow, after clearing her head.

Luckily, she wasn’t alone that night.

Ignotus showed up, done doing who knows what; flopped beside her; and lulled her to sleep.

Gaia didn’t know what she did to deserve that blessing, but she took it.

***

Tomorrow arrived, bright and way too early.

Once they reached the lecture hall, it was painfully clear Gaia and Aurelia weren’t the only ones who’d gone through the wringer.

Every student looked like a corpse with hopes and dreams still being taxed out of them.

Half-shut eyes, slouched backs, and energy levels somewhere below sea level.

What made it worse was that neither Lothar nor John was there.

Instead, a hooded Shepherd stood stiffly at the front, replacing them under the guise of “impartiality.”

Right, sure. The test was still ongoing, and professors weren’t allowed to interact with students during their own evaluation—too high a chance of giving accidental hints.

Not that an Inquisitor would ever slip, but even they had to follow the rules.

The Academy loved its rules.

Apparently, the absence of the familiar instructors was the final straw for several people, because near the end of the second day, a few students had finally cracked.

Aurelia and some of Ignotus’s people overheard them muttering outside the hall:

“I can’t believe it…”

“Yeah, I thought I could handle it, at least for a few seconds, but that thing…”

“It just keeps twisting, and twisting, and twisting.”

They sounded hollow, talking about the Rune like it was a living thing.

Another student nodded miserably.

“I guess I’ll take the early points and call it.”

But most people inside the training halls were far too stubborn.

Prideful, petty, and furious, they weren’t quitting, not this early!

Every time someone passed another between cycles, they’d glare flames at each other.

It was an unspoken challenge between those in the class.

They would not be the ones to fold first.

They would show the headmaster what they were made of!

…

Unfortunately, pride was weak against despair.

By the third day, most students hadn’t made even the tiniest bit of progress beyond day one.

Not even a single moment more.

Some were actually doing worse.

Nearly half the class eventually submitted, stumbling out of John’s office while looking like they’d aged thirty years.

Whenever they passed the training halls, they’d gawk at whoever was still resisting.

Pity, awe, and disbelief would sit in their eyes, the full set.

Merlin noticed they looked at her the most.

Most did with expectation.

Everyone assumed she’d unlocked at least half the Rune already.

If only they knew.

She, like many, hadn’t made a single improvement since the first day.

…

Later that night, Merlin spotted Gaia dragging herself down the hallway and trudged over.

“Still at it, huh?”

Gaia nodded with a tired smile.

“Aren’t we all?”

Merlin laughed, though it came out like sandpaper.

“Besides your husband? Yep. It’s like the headmaster planned this just to see if he could break us.”

“Oh, he totally did.”

Ulv chimed in as he joined them.

“That third cycle is a death trap. I almost got myself killed a few hours ago.”

Merlin giggled as if their collective near-death experiences were casual inconveniences.

“Same. I was this close to chucking my notes into the trash, but I didn’t want to make someone dig them out.”

She crossed her arms.

“Anyway, have you guys seen that wolf anywhere?”

Both Gaia and, surprisingly, Ulv shook their heads.

“He must be back in his room.”

Merlin clicked her tongue and kicked the ground.

“I guess he already quit… what did I expect?”

She turned only to then freeze.

Aurelia was sitting next to Nora, comfortably chatting.

“…And when did that happen?”

Ulv shrugged and walked off immediately, as if refusing involvement.

“Don’t ask me. I don’t know how you girls operate.”

The traitor.

As he left, Gaia leaned in close and whispered:

“Do you think Aurelia will help us out?”

Merlin snorted.

“No way. She only helps with useless stuff.”

“But maybe—”

“No maybes.”

The cat folk cut her off.

“You know how she is by now. Aur’s by the book. And why are you ignoring my question? Doesn’t seeing them so chummy like that look suspicious to you? She’s your guard.”

Gaia shrugged again.

“Not really. I actually sent her to… spy for me, but I’ve gotten nothing. The only one who can help us is I-Ignotus, but he doesn’t want to.”

Merlin nodded to most of that, then gave her a very knowing look.

Gaia immediately stiffened and looked away, blushing hard.

“Humph!”

They didn’t need to say anything; the stutter alone betrayed her.

“You’re still—”

“Y-YES! Now shut up!”

This time, it was Gaia who cut her off, slapping both hands over Merlin’s mouth.

The sudden shout snapped every student in the hall out of focus. They all glared murder at the two girls, their faces twitching with exhaustion and annoyance.

Merlin flicked her tail at them, unbothered, while Gaia, mortified, practically pushed her friend down the hall to escape.

Once the commotion faded, everyone who remained simply returned to their torture, muttering like the damned:

“Come on, just work…”

“Why does it keep falling apart?”

“He made this just to mess with us…”

“Dammit… I’m barely past the first loop!”

“The Divinity just snaps every time…”

“This is driving me insane.”

Hearing each other, they all let out exhausted laughter.

Even Aurelia and Nora chuckled… but theirs sounded… bitter.

Still, no matter how much they suffered, they all wanted the same thing:

To be the one who didn’t give up.

To be the one who saw it through to the end.

Time could only tell, but judging by the established trend…

Most of them weren’t even making it through tomorrow.

…They didn’t.