"So, you're saying that guy is an aberrant species?"
"That's right."
"He really is an aberrant species."
───!
A massive boulder shattered into countless fragments. The shards scattered in all directions, but a translucent ice barrier blocked them.
"You, you bastards! What are you?! How dare you attack me!"
Though unscathed, Bairan roared with killing intent, his fury evident.
"Looks like you still don't understand the situation."
"What did you say?"
The three warriors who had been guarding the desert tribe threw off their robes and turbans. But what was revealed hardly fit the image of desert tribesmen.
"You…! You're not desert tribesmen!"
"Of course not. I'm from Pellenberg. This one's from Berchev, and that one's from Bienderk."
"Don't hand out pointless information to an aberrant species, Fernan."
"Fernan Pellenberg, is it?"
"And you just handed my name to the aberrant species."
"Both of you, stop bickering when the enemy's right in front of us."
They were Professor Rosalia, Fernan, and Luina, disguised as the desert tribe's guards.
The day before, after joining a desert tribe wandering the southern Taklakan Desert, the tribe—who had maintained good relations with Altriark—had agreed to cooperate, despite their wariness of admitting a large force, fueled by their long-harbored hatred of monsters.
That moment was now.
"How did you even find this place?"
"Is that what's important right now? Hardly."
Fernan shrugged. The ground's vibrations, faint before, now thundered up close.
Bairan suddenly remembered—the two knight orders representing Altriark were charging.
"Damn it…!"
Why, how, for what reason—all of it didn't matter.
When your life hung by a thread, there was no time to hesitate.
"Shit…!"
Fweeee—!
Bairan whistled.
"His mouth clearly blew wind, but no sound comes out. Instead, something alien, unpleasant—different from mana—spreads out in waves."
"He must have mixed in demonic energy."
"Fascinating."
Rumble rumble— Horse hooves thundered, mingling with the stirring of monsters.
"Kill them all! Buy me time to escape!"
Dozens—no, hundreds—of monsters surged across the desert, overturning the sands.
"To shout his intentions so loudly the enemy hears… I can't tell if he's stupid or just slow-witted."
"Aren't those the same thing?"
"It means he's hopeless either way."
In Rosalia's hand now gleamed a staff, its head adorned with a refined magic stone that glimmered faintly.
From the arid sands spread ice that shackled Bairan's lower body.
"A pathetic trick…!"
But the ice Rosalia conjured broke far too easily.
Luina's slash cleaved the ground where Bairan had stood—but he was already shooting backward like an arrow.
And then—
────!
KWA-AAAAANG!
Hiiiiiing!
GRAAAAH!
The two knight orders charged across the desert, their lances crashing into the monster horde.
A fleeting hesitation—a brief step back—was only to prepare for an even fiercer advance.
Ironblood and Bloodmad. The two knight orders cut through the monsters' formation like sharp knives slicing fish.
Before the wounds could be sutured by reinforcements of fresh monsters, Altriark's elite troops stormed in.
"As expected, Altriark's reputation is no lie."
Luina exhaled pure admiration at the ferocity of the knights' charge.
"So, do you think Aint Armian and Rudger Schwaben can defeat that slow-witted bastard?"
Despite her magic being shattered so easily, Rosalia didn't look surprised.
Because in truth, she hadn't lost him—she had let him go.
Rosalia Bienderk had deliberately allowed her spell to break, even though she could have stopped it.
"I can't say. I myself wouldn't have had the confidence to win."
"Nor I."
For a moment, the demonic energy the creature had revealed had far exceeded Fernan's expectations.
There was a reason he oversaw this region and triggered monster waves.
"I, too, couldn't guarantee victory."
She spoke while biting down on a black cigarette.
Rosalia Bienderk had become the youngest professor since the Academy's founding.
Many conditions were required to become a professor, but the core one was undeniable skill.
Her strength was beyond doubt—she was spoken of as a future Archmage.
So if even she could not promise victory, it meant the aberrant species was just that strong.
"Perhaps Professor Grad could, though."
Grad, if anything, was even more specialized in raw force.
While martial prowess was always prioritized, Grad had been hired for that alone, to the exclusion of all else.
"So, not at the level of mere Academy students."
"But Armian is here."
"Yes, that's right. The power that disassembles demonic energy—the perfect counter to demons."
The reason Armians were called demons' nemesis.
In the presence of their holy light, demons could not wield their true power. Neither could their servants, the aberrant species.
"That's your handiwork, isn't it?"
The balance of power clearly favored their side. But Altriark wouldn't deploy all its strength.
Their role would stop at hunting monsters.
Professor Rosalia and Fernan would block head-on, while Ironblood and Bloodmad charged from the flanks.
Inevitably, the aberrant species could only flee backward—and there, the Academy students waited.
"The Academy students came here for experience, didn't they? Facing an aberrant species will be more valuable than anything."
"And you?"
"I've never been talented in combat."
"Luina."
"At the Academy, we were taught that knights and mages must fight in sync. Shouldn't there be at least one knight here?"
"How arrogant, when I'm right here."
Rosalia clicked her tongue, but said nothing more.
"And why are you here, Professor?"
"Because I can't leave the students alone."
"Professor Grad told you that, didn't he?"
Rosalia didn't answer, but silence was answer enough.
Do well, Aint Armian.
Fernan gazed in the direction the aberrant species had fled.
Though the stage was now set not only for Aint Armian but for all the Academy students, this was the best Fernan could do.
He hoped Aint would gain enough experience and use it as a stepping stone for growth.
And with Luina, the strongest besides Aint, pulled out as well…
In truth, the reason Luina was here owed much to Fernan's request.
"Professor Rosalia is certainly reliable, but I think it's better to have a knight with her—just in case."
"…Understood."
"Then I'll finish hunting down the remaining monsters."
Luina dashed toward the battlefield. Each time her sunlit blade flashed, a monster fell.
"You should go too."
"Me, as well?"
"As you said, the students came here to gain real battle experience. And you're a student too."
"I'm exhausted. Can't I rest a little?"
"And what exactly have you done to be tired?"
"..."
Pressed by the weight of that remark, Fernan reluctantly raised his staff.
They're here.
Even without Gardener's words, Aint felt it.
The enemy approached from afar, trying to move as stealthily as possible—but speed betrayed them, scattering traces of their presence.
At the very least, they could not deceive Aint and Gardener, whose senses were hypersensitive to demonic energy.
"They're coming."
Aint drew his sword. He took his stance and swung down.
From above to below—
──!
A sharp slash ripped through the desert and struck the aberrant species. Along with the shockwave, the figure lurking in secrecy was revealed.
"This stench…! It's you! You are the cursed bloodline!"
Overcome by instinctive loathing and demonic energy gnawed away by the holy light, Bairan instantly realized who stood before him.
At the same time, he spotted the others waiting for him.
"A trap? You were waiting for me to come this way!"
Damn it. Even though he had longed for this moment—to confront Aint Armian—Bairan could not feel joy.
If it had been Aint alone, perhaps. But there were too many obstacles.
And the Altriark forces chasing from behind couldn't be ignored either.
He had no time to waste here. Capturing Aint was important, but what glory was death worth?
Even if he'd traded his soul to demons for power, he wasn't exempt from death.
"I don't have time to waste with the likes of—!"
But then—
"What a shame. We, on the other hand, have plenty of time to waste with you."
Lances of wind streaked for his blind spots. He dispersed them with demonic energy—only for a lightning strike to crash down immediately after.
Before its afterglow faded, a pure-white flash slammed into Bairan.
It was a freezing cold that froze everything solid.
"Damn it…!"
"Freeze quietly, filthy aberrant."
The master of frost, Rudger Schwaben, extended his staff and muttered.
"You worthless worms…!"
But Bairan was no weakling.
KWA-RRRRRR—
Black scales spread across his body. Dozens of tendrils of demonic energy erupted from his back like tentacles.
The body turning white with frost now burned hot.
"It's useless!"
Bairan roared.
The noise, packed with demonic energy, hammered the students' eardrums.
"Ghhk…!"
"Kyah!"
Some groaned and fell, but Rudger did not.
"No. It is useful."
Realizing he couldn't afford to hold back, Rudger poured in all his mana.
The beam of frost grew fiercer.
The blazing heat around the aberrant's body dwindled; frost began to creep over him.
"Kh…!"
The drain on his mana made Rudger stagger. Casting ice magic in the dry, scorching desert was inherently inefficient.
Yet Rudger squeezed his mana heart harder.
Lacking mana?
He remembered what Fernan had taught him to do in such times.
He opened subspace, gulped down potions. His fingers glittered with artifact rings and bracelets set with processed magic stones.
The artifacts blazed, supplying their master with mana.
The faltering beam regained its strength.
And yet—
"How dare you…!"
Even so, Rudger's spell couldn't fully freeze the aberrant.
Bairan endured, forcing his way forward. Ice formed and shattered repeatedly across his skin.
"This monster…!"
Rudger's twisted face cracked into a laugh he didn't mean to give.
His mana heart thrashed like it would burst. Controlling the unfamiliar mana from artifacts gave him a splitting headache.
A trickle of blood dripped from his nose.
His hands and feet trembled.
This was his limit.
And still, the enemy did not freeze.
A true monster.
Rudger fully understood why demons and aberrants were called humanity's mortal foes.
Even as pain throbbed in his chest and head, as blood stained his clothes, Rudger smiled.
He hadn't frozen him solid—but he had slowed him down.
That was enough.
Aint.
Almon.
Berian.
Alia.
Academy students, but already stronger than most knights.
They charged at once, while the other mages unleashed their spells.
A storm swallowed the aberrant, through which the knights' blades struck.
───!
Watching the fierce battle, Rudger tore off the overloaded rings and bracelets.
"With this much, don't I deserve the greatest credit?"
"Indeed. The aberrant's movements are visibly slowed."
The hidden guide, Grad, appeared at his side.
"You played a significant role. And your timing wasn't bad."
Not far away, the presence of the knight order could be felt. In sight was the Ironblood Knight Order.
They had been keeping an eye on the students just in case—and had clearly witnessed Rudger's grand spell.
"But still… you were too hasty."
────!
Brilliant light swept away demonic energy.
"Humans always remember the end."
Wrapped in a massive pure-white aura, Aint Armian swung his sword.
It evoked the very image of the first Emperor of legend.
Gasps of admiration rose all around.
Rudger bit his lip.
"You should have saved yourself for the finale."
"I know it wouldn't have changed anything."
Whether he acted first or last, the result was the same.
He did not have the power to finish the aberrant.
His magic wasn't cold or sharp enough to end it.
The same went for everyone else—Aint included—if not for his opposing power.
"Are you bitter?"
"It would be a lie to say no. But it's not as if I gained nothing."
Rudger's eyes followed Aint's dazzling aura.
The Armian family's swordsmanship has recovered this much. When?
More than the aberrant being pressed back, more than his own efforts being overshadowed—that was what gnawed at him.
Did Fernan know this first?
That cunning fox.
Rudger chuckled bitterly.
"…Ridiculous! I will not fall here!"
The aberrant went berserk.
His twisted body swelled further, demonic energy raging.
But Aria's wind cut him, Carlo's lightning erased him.
Aint's radiance accelerated the collapse, and Almon and Alia's swords struck the gaps.
"What now, you wretch?!"
"A professor. Their guardian, for the moment."
"You monster!"
"Should I take that as a compliment, coming from an aberrant?"
There were dangerous moments—but each time, Grad intervened at the critical point.
Thus the aberrant was hunted down one-sidedly.
And it could not be denied that Rudger's near-sacrificial magic had played a major role, crippling the aberrant's speed.
"No… no…! I cannot die here…! Spare me! I'll give you anything you want!"
Bairan coughed blood, eyes trembling with the sheer will to live.
"You expect us to trust the words of a filthy aberrant?"
"I only followed orders! The demons, the demons—!"
Disgusting creature. Kill him. Aberrants always lie. They're not worth speaking to.
Aint gave no answer. He didn't need to.
His sword would speak for him.
─!
The blade flashed.
"Ah."
A thin line appeared across the aberrant's chest.
"GYAAAAH!"
The line split wide, gushing black blood.
With a scream, the aberrant toppled.
Aint stomped his chest and raised his sword high.
WAAAAAAAH—!
Glory to Aint Armian!
The aberrant is slain!
The Ironblood Knights' cheers resounded through the desert.
"Wait! Don't kill him! You mustn't kill him!"
"…Ah. Right."
At Fernan's belated shout, Aint hastily pulled his foot off the fallen aberrant.
"…Uh."
Aint scratched his cheek.
…Was it already too late?
Hmph. It's useless anyway. Aberrants never reveal anything under torture. They're bound by restriction.
That fool doesn't know it.
Still… from my perspective, it's not so simple. I don't want to clash with my senior over this.
Aint pulled out a potion.
"Maybe if I give him this, it'll help?"
Planning to torture him?
I'd relish watching that filthy aberrant writhe in pain.
"…So it won't work."
Aint swallowed a sigh.
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