The First Emperor truly lived up to the title of a great man who founded the vast empire of Armian.
"If he weren't, there's no reason he would've installed something this expensive in every dungeon. Maybe he foresaw the fall of his descendants and made arrangements for it."
If he had prepared for future generations in anticipation of the demons' rampage, perhaps that really was possible.
"Of course, unfortunately for him, all of this now belongs to me."
Pfhuhuhuhu—Fernel couldn't help but chuckle.
"…At the very least, it's clear he didn't intend for it to just fill your coffers. If the First Emperor knew, he would surely be devastated."
"Let him be devastated, cough up blood, or whatever. What matters is that everything's in my hands now."
The feelings of a man dead for a thousand years were far less valuable than material gain.
"Will you be putting all of these up for auction as well?"
"No, I won't be selling them for a while."
It hadn't even been a few months since he sold the magic lamps he'd gotten during his first meeting with Aint and the encounter with the sea dragon.
"Still, I doubt their value will drop much."
"But I can make people thirst for them. The thirstier they are, the more they'll pay to quench it."
The semi-permanent magic lamps had already become more than just convenient items—they were taking their place as premium luxury goods.
Rather than releasing them all at once, auctioning them off one at a time at the right moment was a more lucrative strategy.
"Still, it's a relief we have these magic lamps. Ever since you became a second-year student, your personal expenses have skyrocketed. Without them, things might've gotten ugly."
"There's no helping it. If a sparrow wants to fly with storks, it'll need to borrow the power of medicine and gear."
And recently, he'd been offering bribes fairly often to keep up with Aint's schedule.
The expenses were undeniably massive, but they were necessary.
"Is your body alright?"
"I patched myself up with potions, so it's nothing serious. Just a little tired."
"That's good to hear."
"Keep a close eye on all the senior academy staff. See if anyone reacts suspiciously."
The demonic entity they had killed this time was different from all the others. It was far stronger and seemed to know a great deal more.
If there really was someone behind it, they were bound to react somehow.
"Yes, I will."
"You may go."
Fernel waved his hand lazily.
"I'm going to get some sleep now. I'm dead tired."
"Rest well."
Fernel collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes.
"…Huu."
Under the soft moonlight in the training hall, Ruina opened her eyes and exhaled slowly.
The mana she had absorbed through her skin and breath had refined into aura, and that aura entered her aura hole, becoming her strength.
"First place…"
She reviewed the previous test in her mind.
Her battle with Almon, and the joint magic led by Carlo Deneb.
There had been moments when it wouldn't have been strange to lose. Truly dangerous moments.
She had triumphed in the end—but it wasn't a sweet victory.
"Fernel…"
There was no denying how much he had helped. No, was it just a lot?
Without him, she would've lost. That was certain.
What if she hadn't been able to catch the other teams off-guard without Fernel's strategy?
What if she hadn't received the benefit of his magic and artifacts during the joint spell and failed to endure it?
Ruina took pride in her skills—but she didn't overestimate herself.
I would've lost. Definitely.
The moment she took the brunt of the joint spell, the map would've burned.
Of course, if it had been an actual battlefield, she might've survived the blow somehow.
But the academy's safety protocols would have activated before that to protect the students.
She couldn't blame the system—it was education, after all, and everyone was under equal conditions.
"I've taken a step closer to becoming valedictorian…"
But there was no joy in it.
She wanted to be valedictorian. She wanted to be someone worthy of the title.
She wanted to be a knight who couldn't help but be valedictorian.
She didn't just want it—she wanted to possess overwhelming strength that made it inevitable. And with that power, she wanted to join the Royal Knights.
To her, being academy valedictorian wasn't the final goal. It was just a step on the path.
But if she needed someone else's help just to get through that step—did it really mean anything?
The Mandragora Elixir is finally settling in.
And Fernel… he wasn't even looking at something as small as the academy's top seat. He was looking at demons.
She had pledged to help him.
But what if she was just a burden instead?
Srrrng. The blade slid out slowly.
More.
As if responding to her will, the sword began to move.
More.
It sliced smoothly through the air—
cutting through a falling leaf with sharp precision,
dancing gracefully as it reflected the moonlight.
Faster. Stronger. Sharper.
Every swordsmanship has its core and its symbolism.
If the swordsmanship of Armian, known as the nemesis of demons, was a brilliant light—
Then the style of Berchef, which had defended the North for countless years, was a lion that could devour even monsters.
"…White Lion."
From a short distance away, Aint watched her sword dance and saw the image of a lion.
Impossibly beautiful, elegant, yet fierce—like a restrained predator hiding its claws.
─!
Ruina's blade stopped right in front of Aint's nose.
The trailing gust of sword wind blew her hair back. Their eyes met.
"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It's alright, Senior. I was the one who approached without making a sound."
Watching another knight's training in secret was a near-taboo. The only reason he could walk in so confidently was because she had already granted him permission to be there.
"But why did you suddenly ask to spar?"
"Can I assume that coming here means you're willing to spar?"
"Well… it is your request, so of course I am…"
— You've completely lost it. If she asked for your liver and gall bladder, you'd hand them over without a second thought.
Aint did his best to ignore Gardener's murmuring.
"I feel bad treating you this way, but…"
Fernel held Aint in high regard. He seemed absolutely convinced that she would become the nemesis of demons.
Even if that weren't the case, Ruina had seen it too—how monsters lost their strength before his blade.
"If you truly are the nemesis of demons, then you'd be able to judge how effective my sword is against them as it is now."
That's why she was curious.
That's why he was the most suitable opponent.
"Would it be too much to ask?"
To find out whether she was becoming a burden—or still a sharp blade.
"…Honestly, I didn't come here with such grand intentions."
But faced with her sincerity, Aint, too, became serious.
"Still, I welcome the chance to spar with a skilled knight. I don't know if I can evaluate you properly, though."
"That doesn't matter."
"Is there a reward, by any chance?"
"A reward?"
"I think I'd be more motivated if there was a reward for winning. Something like… a wish?"
— Tsk, I can see the impure thoughts dripping off you like sweat.
But Ruina found Aint's overflowing eagerness rather endearing.
She was a knight, and she admired strong knights. She liked knights who possessed the spirit and pride to grow stronger.
Because that was what she wanted to be.
"No."
But even so, she couldn't grant Aint's hopeful request.
"Huh? Why not?"
"Fernel said so. Promises shouldn't be made lightly. You never know when they'll turn into poison and choke you."
That strict contract-abiding man never let a single word slide.
"Especially rewards that are vague and without limits—absolutely not."
"Th-Then if I lose, I'll grant you a wish! Honestly, you're way more likely to win, right?"
Ruina shook her head once again.
"There's no such thing as certainty in this world. No matter how likely something seems, a contract like that shouldn't be made."
She smiled faintly at the end of her words. When did I start taking Fernel's advice so seriously? I didn't even want to associate with him last year.
No—she was simply acknowledging that the advice made sense.
"Anyway."
Shaking off her thoughts, Ruina gripped her sword tightly once more.
"Come at me, Aint."
"…Here I go."
───!
A clash of pure white light and a blue lion.
...
The man who had been trimming the branches of a bonsai by the window set down his pruning shears.
After confirming the quiet bookstore was empty of customers, he drew the curtains. The sign flipped to CLOSE.
"I told you not to come during business hours."
He picked up the shears again as a shadow rose up behind him.
"Commentas has been defeated."
"By whom?"
Snip. A branch fell to the floor.
"No… There's no point in asking."
Commentas had been guarding a safeguard set up by the Enemy.
He had been tasked with both studying and breaking through that mechanism—and possibly using it as a trap for Aint Armian if she showed up.
But they'd only just discovered the site. No real trap had been laid yet.
"I told him not to act rashly if Aint Armian arrived sooner than expected…"
"My apologies…"
"The one who should be apologizing is Commentas—for disobeying orders and dying."
If the man had been there in front of him, he would've ripped out his soul before it faded and made him pay the price.
Contrary to human belief, demons couldn't freely manipulate souls at will.
"Still, I didn't expect he'd actually go that far. Is Aint Armian's growth really at that level already?"
"Most of the traces of battle were erased, but there's something suspicious."
"Speak."
"There was a second-year exam during the day. The ground collapsed, exposing a cavern. After the creature disappeared, an invisibility spell had been cast on the entrance."
"Who was it?"
"Fernel Pellenberg."
The man's hand paused ever so slightly—then resumed trimming.
"Yes, of course. Naturally."
No matter how many arrangements the First Emperor had left behind, Aint Armian defeating Commentas alone was too much.
"Aint Armian is aware of the abominations."
Of course she was. She had seen them through the First Emperor's safeguard, and had fought the monsters and abominations they'd sent.
"And so is Fernel Pellenberg."
Fernel had been dragged into Aint's affairs as well.
"And yet… the incident hasn't been made public."
Fernel certainly had the power to raise a public alarm. That he hadn't meant one thing—
"They suspect something. That there are abominations hiding inside the Academy."
A faint smile spread across his lips.
"It's clear now that Aint Armian and Fernel Pellenberg are working together."
"…Then this is serious, isn't it?"
"It is. But not yet."
They were likely biding their time, waiting in the shadows until they had solid proof. That meant there was still a window of opportunity.
"And as part of that effort, they're using the Dragon God Cult…"
After a pause in thought, the man finally spoke again.
"Have you found where the World Tree's branch was planted?"
"Yes."
"Make contact."
"But…"
"Don't make me repeat myself."
Snip. Another branch was cut.
"A siege that slowly closes in, one that will inevitably tighten around our throats, must be shattered—even if we take losses."
Pellenberg. That cursed rich lunatic would inevitably reach him.
"If it's just a matter of time, then we strike first. Even if it exposes our existence to the world—we kill them both."
The First Emperor's chosen nemesis of demons—
And her wealthy supporter.
Using the most reliable force currently at their disposal.
"Still, summoning should remain the worst-case scenario. It's best to finish this before that. Break is coming soon. If an opening appears, you'll act personally."
"…I hear and obey."
The shadow vanished.
Snip—
Another branch fell to the floor.