At the top of the Academy, Leon sat on the edge of the roof, gazing down at the campus below with half-closed eyes and his hand resting on his chin. The wind played with his hair, but his expression was calm—almost bored.
Lately, life had been... surprisingly peaceful.
During the day, he sat through the lectures of the eccentric and brilliant Professor Faruzan — and, for some reason, even that was starting to become fun. At night, he shared the lab with Sherry, both immersed in theories, arcane texts, and research surrounding the mysterious artifact they had discovered together.
His bond with both of them was changing. Subtly, but unmistakably. Their glances were different now. Longer. More intense.
Leon sighed, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
(Do I really have a natural talent for attracting women? If so, what's the harm? As long as neither of them turns into a yandere, I'm safe… right?)
The rumors about a love triangle with two princesses had finally been laid to rest. For the first time in a long while, he was living ordinary days. Peaceful ones. Almost happy.
But the music of war always plays softly before its crescendo — and Leon knew that better than anyone.
This calm… was only the prelude to the storm.
And it would arrive today.
"Finally…"
Leon's magical perception extended throughout the entire Academy like an invisible web. That's why, the moment the first steps crossed beyond the gates, he felt them.
"It's time… Night Raid."
"Come on! Take control of this Academy!"
"Yeeees!!"
A thunderous chorus echoed through the surrounding forest. Hundreds of hooded figures emerged from the shadows — members of the Diablos Cult, armed to the teeth and their eyes burning with fanaticism.
Each had undergone mystical surgeries and profane rituals to attain power beyond human limits. Men and women who, even individually, could face elite knights.
And now they marched together, like a horde, toward the Magic Swordsman Academy.
Attacking a school with thousands of magic users? At first glance, it was a suicide mission. A foolish act.
Like trying to invade a military base armed with only a Gatling gun.
But these fools had a trump card.
"Reveal your power, Eye of Desire!"
From the center of the enemy ranks, a man clad in black armor emerged. In his hand, he raised an ancient relic shaped like an eyeball.
The effects were immediate. Within the barrier, all magical power — from professors, students, artifacts — began to drain away, siphoned by an invisible force.
Everyone's — except his.
"Mages without magic… are nothing but fangless sheep. Now, surrender."
One by one, the students felt the weight of emptiness settle inside them. Their spells failed. Enchanted blades lost their glow. Their confidence vanished.
"Attack! Hunt them down!"
Groups of three stormed classrooms, hallways, and dormitories with brutal efficiency.
"Surrender and no one gets hurt!"
"Resistance is useless!"
"This Academy now belongs to the Night Raid!"
In a matter of minutes, chaos reigned. Magical alarms rang out, but to no effect. Teachers tried to fight back, but their spells vanished into thin air. Students screamed, ran, or cowered in despair.
Terror took hold.
But above all, amid the fear and confusion…
Leon remained seated on the roof.
Unmoving.
Watching everything with calm eyes.
The sudden loss of magical power — something they were born and raised with, like a second skin — was like cutting the branch where birds always perch. A brutal fall. An emptiness impossible to ignore.
The despair in the students' eyes was clear.
"Hahaha... that's the expression I wanted to see."
"We still have time before total capture. How about we have some fun with a few of the girls?"
The members of the Diablos Cult — falsely using the name Night Raid — roamed the hallways with twisted grins. Smiles dripping with cruelty.
This is how it should be.
They had been humiliated too many times by the real Night Raid in recent months. They had almost forgotten what they were: not just assassins, but demons spreading terror in the shadows of the surface world.
Now, seeing the panic in the eyes of defenseless students, they felt in control again. Invincible.
But then…
Two girls stood up.
Silent. Unmoving.
The most beautiful in the class — everyone knew that. Their presence shone like beacons amid the chaos. Instinctively, all eyes turned to them — students, attackers… everyone.
The boys in the class froze, confused.
(Are they… challenging the invaders? Now?)
The cult members stopped as well, surprised — and thrilled.
"Huh? Look at this beauty… Want to get on your knees and beg for merc—"
"Fakes of the Night Raid…" the first girl spoke, her voice cold as winter.
"…you'll pay in blood for this unforgivable crime."
"W-what?! You're—"
They didn't finish their sentence.
The two moved like blinding shadows, drawing gleaming blades that sliced through the air with lethal precision. Before the enemies could react, their hearts were pierced.
Bodies dropped.
A third cultist fell to his knees, eyes wide in horror.
Seconds ago, he was the hunter. Now, the prey.
"I-it's impossible… how do you still have magic…?"
The answer came sharp and metallic — the girl's blade slicing his throat in a clean, fluid motion. His head rolled across the floor, eyes locked on the void with an expression of disbelief that not even death could erase.
And that silent massacre was not an isolated case.
In every room, every hallway, every wing of the Academy, the same scene repeated.
"Pretending to be the Night Raid… is a sin paid with your life!"
"Worms of the Diablos Cult… die!"
"How dare you sully our name? I'll tear you apart!"
The true members of the Night Raid had infiltrated long ago. Disguised as ordinary students. Waiting for the right moment.
And now, they struck with surgical, lethal, and ruthless precision.
The Diablos Cult was in shock.
"Why?! How did they know about the operation?"
"How are they still using magic under the barrier?"
"When did they infiltrate this school?! Didn't the Kingdom of Midgar notice?!"
They died with questions on their lips. No answers. Only blades.
Meanwhile, the students still standing watched in disbelief.
"W-what's going on?!"
"S-she killed him! He's dead!"
"Who are these girls?!"
Terror mixed with fascination.
Minutes ago, criminals had stormed the school claiming to be from an organization called Night Raid.
And now, two girls — who had been sitting in the same classroom just yesterday — had killed them without hesitation… also claiming to be Night Raid.
Confusion reigned.
But deep down, none of that mattered anymore.
The boys were in shock. The girls were trembling.
And in that moment, the monotony of school life was shattered.
Even if only for a fleeting instant… each of them felt like the protagonist of an epic and bloody drama.
An illusion, of course.
Because this was not their story.
It was a clash between huntresses and their prey.
Between the Night Raid…
…and the Cult of Diablos.
And the rest? Merely sheep — fragile prey within the fold.
…Back atop the Academy once more…
The wind now blew fiercely, as if it knew the war had begun.
Leon looked down, arms crossed, eyes as calm as ever.
"If your magical power has been sealed…" he murmured, "…then I'll lend you mine."
His voice carried authority.
Beneath him, an invisible flow of energy began to spread to the key points of the battlefield. Only allies received this gift — magic enough to turn the tide.
Beside him, a graceful figure knelt in perfect posture.
"Master. We've located all enemy cores. They are surrounded."
"Excellent work, Epsilon."
Leon turned his head slightly, his crooked smile returning.
"Notify the other units. Capture the survivors. Don't let anyone escape."
Then, he leapt from the rooftop.
The true storm… had only just begun.
(End of chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."