Chapter 134

Not much time had passed since the new semester began when someone came to see Fernan.

“Sir, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.”

Black hair that contrasted with skin white as snow and blue eyes like gems.

A sturdy, muscular body that didn’t match his noble young face.

It was Alcmion Altrierc, known for having inherited more than anyone the talent and blood of the great Royal Knight, Katrina Altrierc.

Fernan had known him since childhood.

“It has been a while. I didn’t expect you to enter as top of your class.”

“My mother trained me hard, wasn’t it only natural?”

“I heard you spent some time on the frontlines.”

“Haha, I struggled a bit. The corrupted are very different from monsters.”

Despite his words, his face was full of satisfaction.

“Have you seen Professor Emond yet?”

“You were the first one I came to see. The ahjussi is doing well.”

“He’s a professor. We’re at the Academy, mind the title, especially since you’re an Altrierc.”

“Of course. It’s only because we’re among friends.”

Alcmion shrugged.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Me? That’s unusual.”

“Timon Baertz. I’m sure you crossed swords with him—what did you think?”

“You mean the runner-up who lost to me? Pretty sharp.”

“Did he almost beat you?”

“No, not quite that close.”

Fernan tilted his head.

According to the book of prophecies, Timon Baertz was supposed to be first, not Alcmion.

That Alcmion had barely won might make sense, but not that he seemed far superior.

No matter how much Fernan had altered the future, there was no reason for Alcmion to suddenly become much stronger.

‘So Timon Baertz got weaker? Why?’

Had the changes to the future already started affecting new students unrelated to him?

He didn’t know.

“Understood. Best of luck at the Academy.”

“Yes, sir. See you.”

Alcmion stood up.

“Oh, right. My mother asked me to say she was very satisfied with the effect of your gift.”

“I suppose the calluses on her hands are gone now.”

“Yes. She was delighted. I don’t get it—calluses are a symbol for a knight…”

Alcmion, hardened from childhood by the strict Katrina Altrierc, showed some shortcomings in other areas.

Over time, Academy life would polish him.

When he left, Fernan murmured:

“If he really is weaker than the prophecy said, then there’s nothing to worry about…”

He trusted Aint would take care of him.

“Then only one immediate task remains.”

Preventing Aint from being assassinated.

“What would be the best move?”

Stop it at the root? Or let Aint face Timon directly and only help if he was in danger?

Fernan continued to think about it.

***

Ravidus Hall.

Only elite students could enter, and no others were allowed into its rooms.

But in the prince’s chamber, there was a guest.

“Did His Majesty truly give such an order?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

A middle-aged man nodded.

“That plan is absurd!”

Ludger ground his teeth.

“Right now, with the corrupted rampaging and demons appearing, this won’t benefit us at all.”

And still, killing Aint Armian now, in this moment of public attention?

It was a reckless plan. Not even worth considering, let alone executing.

“His Majesty judged that if we let him grow any further, he will become uncontrollable. Didn’t you say yourself that Aint Armian should be feared?”

Ludger admitted he had. At this rate, he would become unstoppable.

“But if we kill him now, who do you think will be the suspects? Us! The ones who most resent the rise of the Armian!”

“If he dies in an accident during an exam, no one can blame us. Aint is strong, but he’s still a student. Besides, we have an alternative plan.”

Ludger knew that too, but killing Aint would bring more loss than gain.

“And the demons? What happens if we can’t stop them? Does His Majesty want to be the last emperor of a ruined continent?”

“The power of Armian may be a natural enemy of demons, but they’re not the only ones who can hunt them.”

The man lowered his voice and whispered.

“Besides, Your Highness… we’ve already obtained Armian’s secret swordsmanship.”

“…What?”

Ludger’s eyes widened.

“When they lost the throne, who do you think caused the chaos in Armian?”

If the Armian had lost it, it was because the Schwaben had taken it.

“You don’t mean…”

“Exactly. And His Majesty has already made his decision.”

They hadn’t revealed it to avoid suspicion and condemnation.

But if more demons appeared and the only ray of hope—Armian—died, humanity would desperately look for another symbol.

Even if that symbol was stolen.

“Your older brother is already learning it.”

“…I see.”

Ludger’s eyes darkened.

“You don’t know anything, Your Highness. Leave this to me.”

“And if I oppose it?”

“I’m sorry, but the Emperor’s edict outweighs a prince’s words.”

It was logical, so Ludger said no more.

“Leave.”

“Yes.”

The man vanished like a shadow.

It was no accident he had been chosen as the best assassin to kill a hero.

Ludger lay back on the bed.

“…And I, knowing nothing, while my brother already learns Armian’s swordsmanship…”

He knew his brother had great qualities and the Emperor’s absolute trust.

Sooner or later, the title of heir would go to him.

That’s why Ludger had never dared to aspire for more—or so he thought.

But upon hearing that his brother was already practically named heir, his heart pounded.

He felt anger and disgust.

“…Disgusting.”

What was I really hoping for?

He swallowed his rage and closed his eyes.

— Kyu.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t notice the presence hanging from his window.

***

“The winner, Timon Baertz!”

The first exam of “War and Combat Practice” for first-year students in the Department of Knights had begun with duels, just like the previous year.

Timon Baertz easily crushed student number 13.

“Wow, I didn’t think I’d win that easily, but hey—it works.”

Hidden among the first-year students in the stands, Aint muttered without thinking.

Even if they were in the same department, attending classes from another year without permission was a violation.

The professor would never have allowed it.

— I knew it. That rich guy isn’t the type to lie.

— Forget that. What did you see?

Aint closed his eyes and reviewed the fight, focusing on the aura’s flow and variations.

‘I don’t sense anything strange. Is he really a corrupt?’

There wasn’t a trace of demonic magic.

— I don’t see him as a corrupt either.

But Fernan wouldn’t have pointed him out without reason.

These days, the trust between Fernan and Aint was strong enough to believe in him without question.

— You’re still inexperienced. He might be hiding demonic mana so well that your perception can’t detect it.

It was possible. Gismond had also gone undetected, though in his case it was because he’d consumed absurd amounts of elixirs.

— That Gismond would have died if he hadn’t swallowed Itarium Root along with everything else.

Itarium Root, fed with metallic energy, strengthened the body more than any other elixir.

Unlike others, it wasn’t absorbed into aura, but into the body itself.

— Oh, by the way. Tell that rich guy this.

— I don’t know if he has any more Itarium Root left, but if he gives it to that golem, things will get interesting.

It was an elixir capable of strengthening even a human body. So what if they gave it to a golem made of metal?

Just like a knight breaking through a wall to reach the next stage, that golem could advance to a new level.

And its soul was that of a spirit, so it would absorb the elixir’s energy even better.

‘I absolutely have to tell him.’

Aint, who already felt indebted to Fernan, saw this as a way to repay him a little.

— It benefits us too. The stronger our ally against the demons, the better.

— Though I don’t know if there’s any more of that root. It wasn’t common.

That was true.

‘Still, if it’s Fernan, he’ll probably find more.’

Aint’s attention returned to the dueling field.

He’d already confirmed what he needed from Timon, but now it was Alcmion Altrierc’s turn, the top of the class.

‘He’s strong. As expected of an Altrierc.’

— His body’s well trained. More resilient than yours.

Alcmion’s style, based on a massive zweihänder, was brute force swordsmanship that crushed everything.

His sword was unstoppable for any of his peers.

‘I want to fight him someday.’

— First Timon Baertz.

‘Of course. But I need a direct way to confirm things about Timon. Any ideas?’

— How about challenging him to a duel and knocking him out to check?

‘…A bit rough, but it would work.’

Aint was pondering how to approach Timon, his eyes fixed on the back of the boy’s neck.

***

【The demon who invaded Bercheff! No longer…】

【Armian facing the demons, that…】

【The tall black knight riding a giant steed. Presumed to be demon number 66, Kimaris…!】

【Bercheff stopped the demonic invasion. Ten thousand monsters struck its walls, but…】

【The heroes who killed a demon…】

“Pff, my instincts are garbage. Should I just quit already?”

Girard Izeel sighed and tossed the newspaper.

“Seems like it’s been rough.”

“What’s rough about it? I just lack ability.”

Girard leaned his head back on the couch. The head of the Judges, reviewing documents, responded without looking up.

“Lack of ability?”

“Yeah. Because I lack ability, I couldn’t break through that highborn brat’s cold shoulder, and because I lack ability, I couldn’t uncover anything even though he was practically hiding in the Academy in plain sight.”

“You mustn’t mess with Fernan Pellenberg. He’s the only one giving us even a little support.”

The Judges were ostracized by everyone. If not for Pellenberg, that last lifeline would’ve been cut long ago.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s all my fault for not having the skill to convince that highborn brat, huh?”

Since Fernan returned to the family, Girard had tried to meet him, but Fernan intentionally refused. He even used the Golden Turtle Guild to block him outright, so there wasn’t much he could do.

That’s why he resigned himself to wait for a better opportunity. But now—

“Who would’ve guessed that brat would cause such a ruckus in the north? If I’d known, I would’ve held on tighter.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered. He used a direct transport circle, and without the count’s permission, it’s unusable.”

“Does any of this make sense?”

Girard shot up from the couch.

“It’s absurd that, while corrupts run rampant, monsters roam free, and even demons descend, we Judges are nothing but cold soup!”

“It does make sense.”

The director nodded.

“The title ‘Great Demon Army’ is too much for us. We barely survive and haven’t prepared anything.”

“Ugh, don’t rub it in.”

“Are you going to the Academy or Frazia?”

“You’re telling me to go back to the Academy?”

The director opened another newspaper.

“The crisis of the corrupt at the Academy, the attack at the Continental Academic Conference, and now this in the north. Fernan Pellenberg was at all of those places. Do you think that’s coincidence? You said yourself it’s like he knows something.”

“You want me to stick close to him and squeeze something out of him. What about Frazia?”

The director handed over a file with a detailed report of recent events there.

“…Isn’t this already over?”

“Seems Aint Armian wiped out most of the corrupt, but there were still dozens hiding in Frazia. Do you think a group that size sat idle doing nothing?”

The director spun a pen between his fingers.

“It’s just my instinct, but there’s something there. We just haven’t found it yet.”

“…My instinct says the same, but.”

After so many recent failures, Girard hesitated to take another wrong step.

“If we find something, it’ll be a major achievement. We’d have done what Aint Armian couldn’t.”

“Hmm…”

“And that kind of merit would earn us the support we need. Then we can finally stand tall again.”

“I’m going to Frazia!”

Girard carefully folded the paper and tucked it into his chest.

“I’ll find it. I’m sick of this miserable life.”

“And the Academy?”

“The more I think about it, I don’t think that iron wall will give me any useful info. This feels more realistic.”

Girard walked out of headquarters once more.