Milia took care of everything that came after the incident.
The moment Dantalion died, every corpse and monster collapsed with him.
All that remained were a handful of demons who had completely lost the will to fight.
“We’ll be taking these ones with us.”
There was no reason for Ex to stop Milia from taking the demons.
The experts at the Imperial Palace could handle extracting information from them.
‘They’ll probably spend the rest of their lives being tortured in the deepest level of some prison.’
He had no sympathy to spare for vicious demons that had spent their lives harming people.
What worried him now was what would happen to the members of the downtown branch.
At the very least, he hoped Roxwell, his master, would escape punishment.
And with that, the nightmarish day finally came to an end.
* * *
[I got a special pardon. Come pick me up.]
“That was ridiculously fast… I’m on my way.”
The next morning, Ex received a message from Roxwell.
First thing in the morning, he met Roxwell as the man emerged from the Imperial Palace.
The two of them were now on their way back to the academy together.
“How did you manage to get pardoned?”
“Because I’m a 7-Star martial artist. They told me to take command of one of the Imperial Knight Orders. Apparently, I’m too valuable to let go.”
“Wow… Look at you moving up in the world.”
“I turned them down.”
“What?”
“I already have a job. Some bastard ripped up my resignation letter the second he got his hands on it. Which means I’m technically only on leave right now.”
That bastard was obviously the Chairman.
Considering the Chairman’s obsession with talented people, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
“I still needed the pardon, so I negotiated a condition. They agreed to wait until I see my idiot disciple graduate. After that, there’s no getting out of it. I’m basically sentenced to life in the Imperial Knight Order.”
“…”
In a way, it was only natural.
There was no chance the Empire would simply let a 7-Star martial artist walk away.
A 7-Star martial artist was practically a strategic weapon in human form.
Putting that aside, the fact that Roxwell had chosen to remain a professor at the academy until Ex graduated made something warm stir in his chest.
His master really was his master.
“Wow, so that means… the Sword of the Empire and the Sword of the Revolution…”
“One more word and I’ll drag you into the order with me. It’s temporary, but technically I’m serving as Knight Commander right now.”
“I said nothing. But what happened to the original Knight Commander? I can’t imagine they’d be too happy about getting replaced.”
“The knight order I’m in was newly established. It doesn’t even have a name yet, much less any members. They told me to come up with the name myself.”
“How about the Revolutionary Knight OrdAaaaagh-!!!”
With the agony of having his sideburns yanked out accompanying him the rest of the way, Ex finally returned to the academy with Roxwell.
Roxwell let out a faint sigh.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been back.”
Perhaps because it was Sunday morning, the academy grounds were quiet.
Thinking about what would happen starting tomorrow made the silence feel like the calm before a storm.
Ex had done everything he possibly could to prepare.
Even so, the unease refused to leave him.
“You look nervous. Something going on?”
“Mm. Actually, yeah. Something very big.”
Just as Ex was about to explain everything that had happened…
“So you have finally returned after ending your wanderings, my disciple.”
An elderly man approached from the distance, walking with the leisurely grace of an immortal.
His white beard was neatly groomed.
It was Professor Lung.
‘Disciple?’
But what truly stunned Ex came next.
“I have returned after ending my wanderings, Master.”
Roxwell bowed at the waist and greeted him with proper respect.
And he had actually called Lung his master.
Lung snorted at the sight.
“When you saw me around this place, you could not even be bothered to show proper respect. Yet the moment you leave and return, you suddenly remember your manners?”
“It’d be a little awkward for two professors at the academy to go around announcing that we’re master and disciple, wouldn’t it? Please be understanding.”
“What a hopeless fool.”
Roxwell straightened his back and scratched his head, looking mildly embarrassed.
Lung watched him for a moment before a faint smile appeared on his face.
“You have broken through. Congratulations.”
“Yes, well… it just happened that way.”
“Consider meeting that child a blessing from heaven. You had lost your way and could no longer find your footing, and he gave you something firm enough to hold on to.”
“I know. There’s a reason I took him as my disciple.”
“If you know that, then teach him properly. Do you truly believe throwing him around every day counts as training?”
“I’m only teaching him the way I was taught, Master.”
“And you call yourself an academy professor while making excuses like that… Tsk, tsk…”
Ex could only stare at the two of them with his mouth hanging open.
There was no way they had arranged this whole performance just to mess with him.
Which meant the two of them really were master and disciple.
“Professor Roxwell… you were Professor Lung’s disciple?”
“I was a student at this academy too. That’s when I became his disciple.”
Now that Ex thought about it, the Headmaster had once spoken as if Roxwell had also been a student at the academy.
‘I remember when you first came to the academy.’
‘Let’s not bring up my student days.’
He also remembered how Roxwell had always subtly tried to avoid catching Professor Lung’s eye whenever the two were in the same place.
“Well, that explains why you’re so strong, Master.”
Of course someone would be strong if he had been trained by the greatest swordsman in the entire setting.
And at that moment, an excellent idea occurred to Ex.
In the original story, Lung had never personally appeared in any major incident.
But if Ex asked him directly for help, the man would become an overwhelming addition to their forces.
“Professor Lung, about tomorrow…”
Just as Ex was about to ask for his help, Lung raised a hand and stopped him.
His expression turned genuinely apologetic.
“Child. I shall tell you this first. No matter what happens here, I cannot impose my will upon this world. I am sorry.”
“What? What do you mean by…”
“Watch.”
Lung placed a hand on the hilt of his sword and focused himself.
The moment an 8-Star martial artist poured his will into his presence, a tempestuous pressure swept through the entire area.
It carried a fierce intent that seemed to declare that, if he so desired, he could split the very heavens apart.
At the 8-Star level, one reached the realm of the Mind Sword, where sheer will itself became a blade.
And the instant Lung attempted to manifest that realm into reality…
Crackcrackcrackcrackcrack-!!!!
Black lightning erupted from Lung’s sword.
It writhed violently, tearing through the air in every direction while radiating an ominous presence.
The black lightning carried unmistakable hostility.
Rejection.
It forcibly tore Lung’s hand away from the sword.
Even more shocking was the fact that it burned the palm of an 8-Star martial artist like Lung completely black.
Lung explained the phenomenon.
“I am a being who was not born into this world. Perhaps that is why this world refuses to grant me the opportunity to impose my will upon it. All I have been permitted to do is share my knowledge and watch all of you grow. I cannot wield my sword.”
Lung shook his scorched hand.
The ash scattered away, but a small scar remained in the center of his palm.
His eyes settled on Ex, quiet and solemn.
“Child, I know a great destiny rests upon your shoulders. I also know that a storm too great to weather alone is approaching you. You must be frightened. You must feel as though there is no path forward. I know you need help, but I cannot stand beside you when that storm comes. I am sorry.”
“Ah…”
A sigh escaped Ex before he could stop it.
Suddenly, he remembered the demon attack on the academy, back when Leon had awakened.
Lung had prepared himself to deal with the demons, yet Roxwell had suddenly appeared and defeated them instead.
This was why.
It wasn’t that Lung had chosen not to interfere with the incident.
He had been incapable of interfering in the first place.
“So that’s why…”
Once he thought about it, it made perfect sense.
This world was a novel.
A world made from a story.
If an 8-Star martial artist could intervene in every incident however he pleased, most conflicts would end the instant they began.
Why was the Demon King sealed away by the power of the Goddess Deuslute?
Why was the Goddess Deuslute unable to do anything else because all her power was occupied suppressing the Demon King?
Why did dragons, beings at the very pinnacle of existence, live under the watchful eye of the Dragon Lord?
Why was the Emperor of the Empire bedridden by a demon’s curse?
Because they were too powerful.
It might feel unfair to the ones being restrained, but beings like that could not be allowed to move freely within a story.
The stronger an existence was, the greater the restrictions placed upon it had to be.
And under that principle, Lung had been restrained in the form of the world itself rejecting his interference.
In the end, Ex was right back where he had started.
“Ex, don’t get discouraged.”
Roxwell gave Ex a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“Did you really come this far because you were counting on borrowing the strength of an 8-Star martial artist? Just because you’ve lost access to one powerful weapon doesn’t mean you should forget everything you already have. That’s always been your greatest weapon, hasn’t it? Using that scheming little brain of yours and rigging the board in your favor before anyone realizes what you’re doing.”
Ex listened and nodded.
He really did have no reason to be discouraged.
He had already prepared everything within his power to prepare.
The only reason he felt so anxious now was because he had so much more to protect.
“Hoho. Would you look at this fool? He becomes a master himself and suddenly thinks he knows how to give profound advice.”
“Master. I’m trying to act like a proper master for once. Do you really have to ruin the moment?”
“I was not finished speaking. Be quiet and listen.”
Lung smiled meaningfully.
“It is true that I cannot impose my will through my sword. But that does not mean I am some helpless old man who can do nothing but sit in the corner. I am still a professor at this academy. I am still permitted to guide and teach its students. And every now and then, perhaps I might show just a little… favoritism toward a student who works particularly hard. I am human too, after all. Surely such things cannot be helped.”
Ex had difficulty figuring out exactly what Lung was trying to say.
Lung soon explained in terms that were much easier to understand.
“Child, do you still possess the sword I gave you?”
“Ah, yes. I still have it.”
Ex showed him Lung’s sword, which he carried at his waist at all times as though it were part of his standard equipment.
Lung beckoned once with his hand.
The sword immediately flew from Ex’s waist and into Lung’s grasp as though it had been sucked through the air.
Lung slowly examined the weapon as he spoke.
“You likely understand by now that this is no ordinary sword. What ordinary sword would be capable of judging the cultivation of its owner?”
Ex had already suspected as much.
This was a sword that had blocked an Aura Blade without the slightest difficulty.
No matter how many battles he put it through, its edge had never chipped once.
And the most maintenance Ex had ever given it was wiping it down with an oiled cloth every now and then.
Its quality went far beyond simply being ‘good.’
“I can see the muddled energies dwelling within your body. You possess several different forms of power, yet only one kind can be expressed through your sword at a time. Naturally, it would be difficult to make full use of everything you possess. Your current level of cultivation is not yet high enough.”
Lung gently placed his index and middle fingers against the flat of the blade.
“So from this point onward, this sword shall help you make practical use of every power within you. The moment you comprehend the principles of the Five Elements, you will possess a sword stronger than anyone else’s.”
A small yet intensely concentrated force gathered around his fingers.
Shaaak-!!
Lung’s fingers raced along the flat of the blade, all the way to its tip.
Where his fingers passed, the image of a dragon was carved into the sword.
The engraved dragon glowed red-hot.
Then the sword gave a single clear, resonant vibration, almost like the roar of a living dragon announcing its existence to the world.
Ex and Roxwell stared at it, utterly captivated.
“Of course, you will need far more cultivation than you possess now.”
Lung tossed the dragon-engraved sword toward Ex.
Ex snapped back to his senses and caught it.
BOOOOM-!!!
“Ghk…!!”
An impossible weight crushed both of Ex’s hands toward the ground.
“H-Heavy…!”
The sword should have weighed barely more than a kilogram.
Instead, it felt like several tons.
As Ex strained desperately to lift it, Lung slowly approached him.
“First, let us straighten out those muddled energies inside your body.”
“S-Straighten them out?”
The instant Ex heard those horrifying words, all the color drained from his face.
The agony he had experienced the last time flashed through his mind like his life passing before his eyes.
He tried to run, but the damned sword was so heavy that one of his hands was pinned beneath it.
He couldn’t even escape.
“I warned you that power gained through the Unorthodox Path would damage your body, yet you could not restrain yourself and went and did it again. That is precisely why the sword feels so heavy.”
“N-No, Professor Lung…! I didn’t have a choice! It was unavoidable…! Th-There’s really no need to straighten anything out…! So please, anything but that…!”
“How dare you call the master of your master merely ‘Professor’? From now on, you will address me as Grandmaster. Now clench your teeth and endure it.”
“N-No…!!!”
The instant Lung’s finger touched Ex’s arm,
a soundless scream echoed throughout the academy.
Roxwell could do nothing but offer a silent prayer for his disciple’s soul as he watched.
‘Stay strong, my disciple. Surely the day will come when fortune finally shines on you.’
More than anything else, Roxwell was sincerely relieved that it wasn’t him.
* * *
Several days earlier.
It was a pitch-black night without a single star in the sky.
House Borson, the family of a merchant magnate whose only daughter had been revealed to be a demon, had collapsed into despair.
“Hilde, my daughter…”
Gurten, the father of Hilde, who had now become Gremory, was in a state too wretched to properly describe.
His hand clutched a photograph of Hilde in front of the fireplace.
Aside from the places dampened by his tears, his skin looked dry and withered like dead wood.
The tiny fire in the hearth struggled to consume the last remnants of ash, while empty liquor bottles lay scattered all around him.
Clink-…
Another bottle joined them, rolling across the floor after Gurten drained its last drop.
But there was no one left to take care of him.
“My daughter is a demon… That can’t be true…”
Now that Hilde had been exposed as a demon, House Borson had been forced to bear the consequences.
They had not only lost the trust that was everything to a merchant, but even their closest business partners had turned their backs on them.
Of course, much of the reason things had deteriorated this badly was because Gurten, the head of the trading company, had become a broken shell of a man.
“There’s no one left but me now…”
Every retainer had abandoned the household.
The servants had deserted the estate as well.
In that vast, cold mansion, Gurten was the only person left.
The only ‘person’ left was Gurten.
“Father.”
A voice reached Gurten’s ears.
A voice he could never forget.
Gurten immediately spun toward the sound.
Someone was standing there.
Someone who had no right to be there.
“…Hilde?”
Hilde Borson stood before him with a strange smile on her lips.
Gurten’s eyes widened so violently in shock that the expression was almost grotesque.
“My daughter. Hilde, is that you? Hilde, I asked if that’s really you.”
Gurten repeated himself like a broken phonograph.
Hilde slowly crept closer with steps that seemed almost to crawl across the floor.
She did not answer him.
She merely said what she had come to say.
“Father, there’s something I want.”
It spoke in Hilde’s voice.
It imitated Hilde’s manner of speaking.
“I want to bring down the Empire. I want to break it, smash it, tear it apart, violate it, defile it, and shatter it into pieces. I want to devour every last human being living on this land.”
Gurten could no longer think.
The being standing in front of him was clearly Hilde.
His reason screamed that it absolutely was not.
And yet it was Hilde.
“So I need your help, Father.”
A being incapable of lying spoke through a false form.
“So…”
It had to be Hilde.
Otherwise, this was dangerous.
“Shut up and die.”
Blood poured over the tiny flame in the fireplace.
Gremory feeds on despair.
–TL Notes–
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