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

Karea Academy.

A prestigious institution admired by countless prodigies across the land.

It stood as one of the most renowned academies in the entire Free Federation, an unparalleled beacon of excellence.

At its peak, eight out of ten famed geniuses in the Free Federation were alumni of Karea Academy. This alone spoke volumes about its caliber.

For those rare few lucky enough to gain admission, the reality of the academy was both thrilling and daunting.

The institution was filled with talent so exceptional that even those considered "one in a thousand" elsewhere were merely ordinary here.

Karea Academy operated with a singular philosophy: to gather talent relentlessly, nurturing brilliance to its fullest potential.

If you had the ability, the academy would open a path for you—no matter how late your talents might manifest.

The academy divided its students into six houses based on their aptitude:

- F-Level (the lowest)

- E-Level

- D-Level

- C-Level

- B-Level

- A-Level (the highest)

These houses represented different levels of potential, with A-Level housing the most gifted individuals.

But placement wasn't set in stone. Students in the lower-ranked houses could climb the ladder through exceptional performance.

Karea Academy prided itself on fairness and never withheld resources from those who demonstrated worth.

However, those lacking both talent and drive faced inevitable expulsion.

Despite their local fame in some cities, they simply weren't what Karea Academy sought.

The academy aimed to nurture talents capable of shaking the entire continent, bolstering its reputation further.

This approach resembled raising a crop of champions—letting them compete fiercely until only the strongest emerged.

After all, untapped potential was no different from mediocrity.

...

A-Level House, the crown jewel of Karea Academy, was where the crème de la crème gathered. Yet today, it was eerily quiet.

Normally bustling with students immersed in studies or research, the building now stood deserted, an unsettling silence hanging in the air.

The A-Level House boasted superior facilities, far surpassing the other houses.

Whether it was experimenting with new magic or delving into rare texts, students usually flocked here, supported by the academy's substantial investment.

But now, not a soul could be found.

In the corners of the building, faint red threads seemed to flicker in and out of sight.

Hidden within the architecture, they were almost imperceptible, blending seamlessly with their surroundings.

A figure dashed into the building—a girl, her expression filled with curiosity as she observed the unusual stillness.

"This… What is this?"

Her eyes landed on the crimson threads, hidden yet distinct. These weren't physical objects but rather pure manifestations of mana.

The girl paused, her thoughts racing. Among those she knew, there was only one person capable of using such a technique.

"Could it be…"

Her suspicion sent chills down her spine. Reaching out hesitantly, she touched the threads.

In an instant, the serene atmosphere of the A-Level House shattered.

...

What had once appeared calm and peaceful transformed into a scene of utter carnage.

Blood.

Corpses.

The brilliant students who had once been the pride of A-Level House—the geniuses admired in cities across the land—were now strewn lifeless across the ground.

Blood had long since congealed on the floor, staining it dark red. In the distance, faint cries for help and agonized screams echoed.

The girl raced toward the sounds, her heart pounding in dread.

...

Yark knelt in terror, his eyes fixed on Nora.

His body trembled uncontrollably, and a foul stench emanated from him.

Blood and tears streaked his face, and his voice quivered with a mixture of fear and desperation.

"Nora, please! I'm begging you! Spare me! I'll do whatever you say!" he wailed.

"I'll swear a soul contract—I'll serve you forever, never disobeying!"

For someone to be in A-Level House meant they were a prodigy, someone with unshakable pride. Yet Yark, faced with imminent death, had discarded all dignity.

Kneeling on the ground, he pleaded for his life.

He didn't regret his actions; he simply feared his fate.

Nora sighed, her expression cold as ice.

"You're right. Murray and I had no relationship.

His death had nothing to do with me. But what you should never have done—what you must never have done—was drag me into this mess."

Her voice was calm, yet it carried a deadly edge.

"It's my fault! I admit it! Please, make me your servant! Just spare me—I'll do anything!"

"You can't kill me," Yark stammered, his words growing frantic. "You've already killed so many here. Their families are influential. If they band together, they'll seek revenge, and you'll have no way out!"

"The headmaster won't let this go either! Karea Academy won't risk offending so many people for you!"

"Nora, if you're going to do it, just do it! I'll be waiting for you in hell—"

Before he could finish, Yark's voice was silenced.

With a flick of her hand, Nora ended his life in an instant.

"Annoying," she muttered, glancing dispassionately at his lifeless body.

...

In the corner, Eileen stood frozen, her mind reeling from the scene before her.

"Nora… Was this really necessary?"

Eileen had known about Murray, the senior who had recruited Nora into Karea Academy.

A kind and supportive figure, Murray had taken care of Nora when she first arrived.

But a short while ago, Murray was killed while on a mission.

His death had sparked rumors that he was targeted for a treasure he possessed—an heirloom he had rarely shown, except once during an academy recruitment trip.

The rumors took a darker turn, accusing Nora of murdering Murray to steal the treasure.

As absurd as the claims were, the academy couldn't ignore them.

Nora was called in for questioning, and the headmaster himself had to step in to clear her name, declaring the rumors baseless slander.

But Nora's response was blunt—she directly accused Yark of spreading the rumors and even claimed he was responsible for Murray's death.

With no evidence to support her claims, no one believed her.

Nora didn't care about convincing others. She only cared about one thing: action.

...

Earlier that day, Nora had sealed off the A-Level House, using her own unique magic to trap everyone inside.

Her actions infuriated many of the house's students. Prodigies themselves, they refused to tolerate her behavior.

Personal grudges were one thing, but blocking access to their house crossed the line.

However, Nora didn't care about their opinions or their outrage. She had made her choice, and nothing would deter her.

...

"Eileen," Nora said softly, turning to her friend.

"I know what you're going to say. But I don't regret it."

Eileen sighed. She had tried to involve the academy to resolve the matter, but Nora had refused, choosing to handle it her way.

Now, as Eileen surveyed the aftermath—the lifeless bodies of geniuses and the rivers of blood—she felt an overwhelming sense of futility.

"I just hope you know what you're doing, Nora. Because this… this won't end here."