Disappointment.
Exhaustion.
Guilt.
Those three clung to me the entire day.
The moment I saw Andrew, the guilt surged, burning through me from the inside. I'd never seen Storik like that—lost, drained down to nothing.
Compared to that, my own problems felt pathetic.
Lack of sleep.
Frustration over a pointless outing.
Nothing.
As soon as we got off the restricted grounds, we split without a word and went back to our dorms.
An hour later, I saw him again.
In the classroom.
He looked awful.
And everyone noticed.
"I'm fine," he waved it off when Miror asked. "Just a cold. I'll be back on my feet soon."
"First time I've heard of you getting sick," Iveson said, watching him closely. "You picked a hell of a time for it."
He glanced at me—
and went quiet.
Of course the director already knew about the intruders.
Naturally, the teachers weren't saying a word.
What they didn't know—
was that I knew everything.
More than that,
I'd been part of it.
The only one who clearly understood
was Taisha.
She sat in the corner, silent.
But the moment our eyes met,
it felt like standing in a fire.
She didn't show anything.
Not a flicker.
But anyone who had survived her training
knew better than to trust that calm.
"So, Holivan," Miror said, getting straight to it, "you've got four personal instructors. Grek and I also train other selected students," she added, not even bothering to hide the pride in her voice, "so we've arranged your schedule."
"You'll train with me from six to eight in the evening. With Grek—from eight to eleven."
"I'll take mornings," Iveson added. "Six a.m. until breakfast. After breakfast, you train with Storik until noon, then with me again until six."
"Wait," I cut in, staring at them. "What about rest? I'll collapse in a couple of days with a schedule like that."
"And you didn't even factor in that I need to eat at least three times a day."
"I'll handle dinner," Miror said.
I let out a slow breath.
I knew the month before the exhibition fights would be brutal.
Just—
not like this.
"Get proper sleep," Taisha said calmly as the meeting ended. "You won't have that luxury again anytime soon."
The moment I stepped out, my phone buzzed.
"Last I checked, I don't work for you until the exhibition matches."
"Come to my office," Silius said, ignoring me completely.
"I'm not dealing with you right now. I'm going to sleep."
I was about to hang up—
when his voice cut in again.
Cold.
"I thought you'd be more upset about your useless little outing."
"That's none of your concern."
"So you've already dropped your obsession with demons?" he went on. "By the way, if it weren't for me, your precious Storik would be lying in the dirt without a head. And you right next to him."
"Still none of your concern."
I paused.
"…Thanks for stepping in. I screwed up. I dragged Andrew into it."
"I didn't do it for you," he said flatly. "I did it to avoid trouble."
"Don't forget—I chose you. Everything you do reflects on me."
"People are watching you now."
"As for demons—if you're no longer interested…"
"God, I'm tired of your games!" I snapped. "You made it clear you weren't going to tell me anything, so why bring it up now?"
"Or did you suddenly change your mind?"
"You could say that."
"Why?"
"Because you're an idiot, and I have no idea what you'll try next."
"I'll be waiting. Ten minutes."
He really knew how to get under my skin.
Why did everyone admire him so much?
He was insufferable.
Still—
I went.
I couldn't pass up even the slightest chance to learn something about demons.
Why did they get under my skin this much?
I didn't know.
It's not like I'd be fighting them.
At least not until Silius and his people tried their coup in the closed world.
If they even could.
With each passing day,
I believed in that less.
He was alone.
Lying back on the couch.
Calm.
Drinking tea like nothing in the world could touch him.
"I knew you'd come. Sit."
I sat down without a word.
Fixed my gaze on him.
"So," he said, setting his cup aside, "what do you want to know?"
"Everything."
"You already know how they come into existence, don't you?" he said. "Or should I start there?"
"No. I know how they're born. That they're powerful. That they command lesser creatures. That they made deals with aristocrats and Specials. That they have power of their own."
"Then what else do you need?"
"Are you serious?" I snapped. "I want to know why those deals exist. What they get from allying with an enemy. Has anyone ever fought them?"
"Why is information about the strongest among the unclean so tightly buried?"
"The last one's obvious," he said. "Information about demons is buried because no one in power wants some idiot trying to challenge one."
"If you know nothing about your enemy, your efforts are worthless."
"At best, you'll be an inconvenience."
"Considering how tightly Specials are controlled, I doubt anyone could even try," I said. "Even if they wanted to."
"That's the thing," he said. "Plenty have tried."
"What we're doing now—it's not new."
"A few people plan a rebellion. Gather strength. Rise against those in power…"
"And end up with nothing."
"If you already know how that ends, why are you making the same mistake?"
"Because this time it's not a handful of powerless Specials."
"And besides…"
He looked at me.
Paused.
Then shook his head.
"No. Not yet. You're not ready for that."
"Only a few people know."
"If it's not about demons, keep your secrets."
He didn't answer.
Got up.
Walked to the coffee machine.
Only when he came back with two cups of black coffee
did he continue.
"As for history—you've probably figured out that resistance against those in power has always existed."
"That forced them to think about their own safety."
"And that led to a contract with demons?"
"Exactly."
"Four hundred years ago, a rebellion of Specials nearly succeeded."
"Specials always fought the unclean, including demons."
"But demons never interfered in human conflicts."
"Sometimes they even held their subordinates back."
"Just to watch the bloodshed."
"Each time, the number of Specials would be cut down to almost nothing."
"And then the demons would let chaos loose."
"But four hundred years ago, one aristocrat joined the rebellion."
"Power. Wealth. Influence."
"It tipped the balance."
"And they weren't fighting monsters anymore."
"They were fighting people."
"So it wasn't just seers involved?" I asked.
"Of course not."
"When you've got an army of Specials fighting alongside ordinary humans…"
"That force is far more dangerous than a dozen mercenary armies."
"But you said they almost won."
"What happened?"