"They used to call me... Stephen the Hell's Butcher."
The atmosphere in the lecture hall shifted instantly. The air grew heavy, and a palpable dread settled over the students. They stared at Mr. Stephen with wide, trembling eyes, as if the man before them had suddenly transformed into the very demons he claimed to have hunted.
Then, Mr. Stephen let out a boisterous laugh. It was a loud, grounding sound, though it still carried an edge that made the hair on Aren's neck stand up.
"I suppose you kids today read far too many novels," Mr. Stephen said, his terrifying grin softening into something more human.
"It is true that I fought in the Second Great Demon War, but the story of me slaying thousands of demons single-handedly? That is a rumor, nothing more."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the room. The tension broke like a snapped wire.
"So, it really was just a story," one boy whispered, leaning back in his seat.
"Of course it was," another chuckled, feeling bold again. "How could one person kill a thousand demons alone? It's physically impossible."
The class settled back into its normal rhythm. Most of the students dismissed the legend as a battlefield myth, a ghost story meant to scare rookies. But Aren remained silent, his gaze fixed on the man at the front of the room.
Something about him feels... different, Aren thought, a knot forming in his stomach. There's an energy coming from him that doesn't feel like a 'rumor.' Is he really telling the truth?
Mr. Stephen cleared his throat, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. "Now, if we are finished with the ghost stories, let us begin. Tell me, students what is the most important thing to possess on a battlefield?"
The room went quiet as students pondered the question. One boy raised his hand. "Power, obviously."
"Courage," Evy suggested, her eyes bright.
Theo leaned toward Aren, whispering, "You got an answer for this one?" Aren simply shook his head, his mind racing.
At the front of the room, Faith raised her hand, her voice cold and certain. "Strategy. On a battlefield, strategy is what determines life or death."
The other students nodded in agreement, impressed by her logic. Mr. Stephen offered a thin, enigmatic smile.
"Wrong," he said simply. "All of you are wrong."
A wave of shock rippled through the class. They looked at each other, confused. If it wasn't power, courage, or strategy, then what was left?
"The correct answer," Mr. Stephen continued, "is Control. Power is a liability if you cannot direct it. Courage gets you killed. And strategy? More numbers without control simply means more corpses for the ditch."
He paused, his eyes glazing over as if he were looking at a horizon only he could see. "During the Second Great Demon War, I watched an elite squad of soldiers wipe out an entire city... without a single demon present."
He took a slow, heavy breath. "They panicked. They lost control of their own abilities. In less than ten minutes, they slaughtered more humans than the demons ever could have."
The room was so silent you could hear the hum of the ventilation. The students were frozen, gripped by the haunting image Mr. Stephen had painted.
"The greatest enemy in war is not the one standing in front of you," he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "It is the power inside you when you stop controlling it."
Aren stared at his own hands. The memory of the training gym flashed in his mind the way his finger had flicked with the force of a missile. He realized then that Varkas's power wasn't just a gift; it was a storm he was barely holding back.
Suddenly, a cold voice broke the silence. "Sir, I disagree."
It was Faith. She stood up, her icy demeanor unshaken by the professor's grim tale. "Control makes a person weak especially in a war where you must put everything on the line to survive. Holding back is just a slower way to die."
A few students began to murmur in support, swayed by her conviction. Mr. Stephen's smile turned slightly crooked. "Does anyone else feel the same way?"
Nearly every hand in the room went up except for Aren's. Mr. Stephen's sharp gaze locked onto him.
"And you? What is your name?"
"Aren... Aren Vox," he replied, his voice steadier than he expected.
"Aren, you didn't raise your hand. You don't think your classmates are right?"
Aren took a deep breath, the eyes of the entire class weighing on him. "I think... when a person has too much power, they forget the difference between right and wrong. They start to see people who are weaker than them as insects. Without control, you aren't a hero. You're just another monster."
Mr. Stephen's eyes crinkled at the corners. He looked genuinely intrigued. But from the back of the room, a boy sneered. "Oh, look at the Null trying to teach us about power. You don't even have enough strength to crush a bug, let alone lose control!"
The class erupted into laughter, and Aren felt the familiar sting of heat in his cheeks. He lowered his head, staring at his desk.
"Actually, sir," Theo's voice boomed, cutting through the mockery. "I change my answer. I agree with Aren."
"Me too," Evy added, raising her hand high. "Aren is right."
The laughter died down as Theo and Evy's support silenced the bullies. Aren looked at his friends, a small, grateful smile touching his lips. Mr. Stephen noticed the exchange and nodded slowly.
"Aren Vox," Faith interrupted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you're so confident that your 'control' can win a war, why don't you show us? A practical demonstration."
"Yeah!" another student added, smelling blood in the water. "If you're so wise, show us how it works in a fight!"
Mr. Stephen raised a hand to quiet the room. He looked at Aren, then at Faith. "Very well. Aren and Faith step forward for a friendly duel."
The blood drained from Aren's face. Theo jumped to his feet. "Sir, let me take his place! Aren isn't"
"Do not worry," Mr. Stephen interrupted, his tone brook no argument. "I will be right here. I will not allow anyone to be seriously injured. The moment I see it has gone too far, I will stop it."
Theo leaned in close to Aren, his voice frantic. "Aren, back out. She tried to impale you yesterday. This isn't a good idea."
Aren looked at Faith, who was already standing in the dueling circle with a predatory, devilish smile. He remembered the feeling of the power in his finger. He remembered Varkas's voice. Then, he placed a hand on Theo's shoulder.
"Don't worry," Aren said softly. "Just... trust me."
Aren walked into the circle, facing Faith. I've never started a fight in my life, he realized. I've always been the one running. But not today.
"Don't break too many bones, Aren!" a boy mocked from the sidelines. Theo shot him a glare so fierce the boy immediately shut up, while Evy pulled out a small notepad, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
"You've made a massive mistake, Aren Vox," Faith hissed, her hands already beginning to frost over.
Aren didn't respond. He simply closed his eyes and took one final, deep breath, searching for that tiny spark of focus at the tip of his soul.
Mr. Stephen stepped back and raised his hand. "The duel begins... now!"