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A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! Chapter 52

Chapter 52

It‍‍⁠ wasn’t a simple‌‌ coincidence.

It⁠​​ was a hunch.​

Aint‌ knew that everything‌ that had happened​​‌ so far was⁠​ very different from⁠‌ the future described‍​ in the book​ of prophecies, and⁠‌ that’s why he⁠‌‍ feared he wouldn’t⁠‌‍ survive to see⁠‌‌ it through.

He⁠ just wanted to‌‍ confirm it with‌ his own eyes,⁠ until the very‍‍‌ end.

“But‍‌ it looks like‌⁠‍ coming here was‌ the right call.”​

That‌‌ hunch gave him‍‍‌ the chance to‌‍ prevent the future⁠⁠‍ from veering into​‍‌ the worst possible‌​ outcome.

“Money‌ for your funeral?”​

Kik-kik,‌ the half-collapsed body​ of the corrupted⁠‌⁠ straightened completely.

“Arrogant‌‍ bastard. Your corpse​‌⁠ will disappear without‍ a trace.”

“Aint,‍ can you stand?”​

“Yes…‌‍ yes!”

Aint​ stood up with⁠ difficulty, but he​‌ didn’t seem to‌ be in normal⁠‌ condition.

Fernan‍⁠‍ tossed him a potion.

“Take‍ it.”

“Thanks.​ But, how did‍​ you get here…?”⁠‍

A rock emerged from‌‌ the ground, but​⁠ it was pierced​⁠‌ by a black⁠‌⁠ flash.

Even‌‌‌ so, that brief‍ delay gave Aint‍‌‌ the chance to‌⁠ duck and dodge‍‌‍ the dark beam.‌⁠

He‌ rolled on the‍‍ ground and grabbed⁠‌ his fallen sword.⁠

— Are you okay,‌ Aint?

“Drink‌ the potion and⁠‌‌ come with me,‍ Aint Armian!”

Aint​ drank the potion⁠‌ in a hurry.‌‌​

Fernan‍ had already rushed‍ in to fight​ the corrupted.

“You‌ think someone like‍ you can stop⁠ me?!”

“Your‌​ voice is getting‌ more annoying.”

The⁠⁠ dark energy masses‍‍​ collided with a wall of stone.⁠

Clang!‌‍

The‍ claws that followed​​ tore it apart,​ but through the‍ dust, Fernan slammed‌ his staff into‍​‍ the ground.

Dozens‌‍ of rock spikes‍​ erupted toward the‍‌⁠ corrupted.

“How​‍ pathetic…!”

He‍⁠ briefly held his‍‍ breath and released‍‌​ it. The spikes⁠⁠‌ were repelled by⁠ the enemy’s magic,​⁠ which had grotesquely‍​‍ swelled.

Then,​​ a storm of⁠‌ dark spikes launched⁠‌ toward Fernan. The‌​‍ stone wall crumbled‌‍​ like paper.

The‌ storm struck another​​ wall but failed​​‌ to destroy it.​ Even so, the​​ impact sent Fernan‌‍⁠ flying backward.

Just​ before he could⁠‌‍ regain his footing,‌‍ a black shadow‍⁠‍ charged again.

BOOM!‍

The​‍ claws stopped right‍‍⁠ before his face.‌⁠ A translucent barrier​‍⁠ had protected him.‌

“You’re​⁠‍ carrying more trinkets‍​ than I thought…”‍⁠

Using⁠ the power of​ an artifact, Fernan​⁠‍ activated a memorized​ spell.

Rumble!​‌

The⁠ ground beneath the⁠‌​ corrupted’s feet flipped.​‍‍ His body staggered,⁠ suspended in the​‌‍ air.

From‍‌​ above, two giant⁠ stone hands slammed​​‍ down as if⁠‍​ to pray.

Crash!‍‌‌

The​ roar shook the‍‌ underground. A moment​‍‌ of silence, then‍ Fernan threw dozens⁠​ of glass vials.‌‍

Crack!​⁠

The‌ liquids inside seeped‍‍‌ into the cracks​ of the stone‌⁠ hands.

In‍‍⁠ that instant, they⁠ completely disintegrated. Amid⁠‌‍ the crashing sounds,​ the groan of⁠‍ the corrupted echoed.‌‌​

“Damn​‍​ you…! What the‌‌‍ hell was that…?!”‍

With‍‍‌ pungent smoke rising⁠ from his body,‍ part of the​‌‍ dark magic surrounding⁠​ him was dissolving.​​

What‍‌ was it? Holy⁠⁠ water, specially prepared‍ for bastards like​‌ you.

“No‌‍‌ reason I should⁠ explain it to​‍⁠ you.”

Holding‌ back the urge⁠‍ to mock, Fernan‌ brushed the bracelet‍​ on his wrist.⁠‍‍

A bolt of lightning‍⁠ struck.

“Argh,​​ damn you…!”

Even‌⁠ so, the corrupted​ swallowed the pain‍‌​ and managed to‌ control the decomposing‍​‍ energy.

“You‍​ know something? My‌​​ best magical affinity‍‍ is actually with‍‌‍ fire.”

The​ corrupted didn’t respond.​​ Fernan didn’t expect‍ him to.

“I‌‍⁠ mainly studied earth​‍​ magic, but I never stopped practicing‌ fire. The more‍ cards I have,‌‌‍ the better.”

Though‌‌⁠ not as good⁠ as money.

“And‍‍‍ you know what‍⁠ else? Earth magic⁠‍​ is the most​ useful for drawing​⁠ magic circles. It’s​ hard to imagine​‍‌ that a simple​​‌ pile of dirt⁠‌‍ is a circle.”⁠​

So⁠​​ what I mean​ is—

“You‌⁠‌ may be pretending​⁠ to listen just⁠ to buy time⁠‍ and recover your‌‍ magic, but I even accounted for​ that.”

At​ that moment, the‌‍ magic circle drawn‍ in the dirt‌ glowed. It was⁠​ massive, covering a five-meter radius around‌​ the corrupted.

“Damn—!”‍‍

────!⁠​

A giant column of⁠‍ fire devoured him.​ A roar shook​⁠ the surroundings, and‌ heat scorched everything⁠ around.

“What​ are you doing​‌‍ just standing there,‍‌ Aint Armian?”

“…Ah.”‍⁠

Aint⁠⁠‍ blinked, stunned by⁠⁠ the scene.

“I⁠⁠ was about to⁠⁠⁠ take the potion‌‌​ and jump in…”​⁠‍

“Did‍⁠‍ the bottle have​‍ a dimensional expansion​‍‌ or something?”

“…No,​ nothing like that.”‍⁠

“I’ll​⁠‍ leave the finishing‍ blow to you.‌‍​ My spells aren’t‌ strong enough to​‌ end that guy.”⁠​​

As‌​ Fernan said, the‌​⁠ corrupted was still⁠ standing, despite the‍​ flames. His magic‌‌‍ had weakened considerably‍ and his body‍ was covered in‍ burns, but he⁠‍​ was still alive.⁠​

Neither‌ his determination nor‍‌‍ his bloodlust had⁠ vanished. In fact,​‌⁠ the latter was⁠ even more intense.‌⁠

“He​​ doesn’t exactly look⁠ weak…”

“Don’t​‌‍ tell me you‌‌‌ can’t finish the‍ job.”

“Of‌‌‌ course I can.”‌‌‌

Aint‌‍⁠ stepped forward with​⁠ a determined look.‌‌​ A white aura⁠‌ radiated around him.‍⁠​

“Exactly.‍​​ At the very‌‍‌ least, you should⁠‍‌ justify eating the‌ Saint bird’s heart.”‌‍⁠

Aint‌ stomped the ground⁠​ with force.

“I’ll‌‌ kill you…! I’m‍​‌ going to kill​​‌ you…!”

The‌⁠‍ corrupted roared, squeezing⁠‍‍ every last drop⁠‌‌ of his remaining‌‍ magic.

──!​​‍

Aint⁠​​ and the corrupted‌ clashed. The corrupted‌ was still fast,‍ but after the‌​‍ holy water and‌⁠ the light, he‌​‌ could no longer⁠ match Aint.

His‍‍⁠ skin was still‍​ tough, but not‌​ tough enough to​​ block Aint’s sword.⁠‌‍

“I’m‌⁠ gonna die this​⁠‌ easily…?!”

With⁠‌ that final cry,‌‌⁠ his head flew.⁠‍

“…Ah,⁠ right! I’m not‌ supposed to kill⁠ him! We need⁠ to know who’s‌‌ behind this!”

But‌​ instead, his limbs‍⁠ were severed. His⁠​ body sprawled across⁠ the ground.

“Argh…!‌ My arm…!”

By‍‌‌ forcibly changing the⁠‍⁠ trajectory of the​‍ slash, Aint’s arm​ twisted grotesquely, and⁠‌ he screamed in‍‍‍ pain.

***⁠​⁠

— That guy… is‌‍‌ truly talented.

While‍⁠ adjusting his dislocated‍​ arm and pouring⁠⁠⁠ the potion Fernan⁠ had given him,‌‍ Aint realized that‌ Gardner Alfenparsen was⁠‌ deeply excited.

“He‍‍⁠ might not cast‌‍ the most powerful‌⁠‌ spells, but he⁠‌‍ knows how to‍‍‌ use what he‌‌ has and make‌‍ use of the‌ environment. That’s an‍ exceptional talent.”

— And above all,⁠​ he doesn’t fear‌‌‌ the corrupted… and​‍ mocking them is​​‌ an art!

‘I⁠ feel like he⁠‍⁠ gave more points⁠ for that last​‍ part… But was‍ there really any‍ mocking?’

— You don’t see‌ it. He anticipated‍‍ what the corrupted‍​ was thinking, turned‍⁠ it around cleverly,‍‍‌ and even explained⁠ it with the‍ utmost kindness just‍ to churn his‍‌ guts. That, kid,‌⁠‍ is also mockery.‍​

— It was all⁠⁠ perfect.

‘If​ you say so,‍ Gardner…’

Aint’s​‌ gaze landed on​ Fernan, who was‍ sitting on a rock to rest.‌​

‘I​‍ didn’t expect him‍ to be this​​​ good…’

If‌‌ Aint Graham was⁠ the eye of​​​ the storm among​ the first-years, Fernan‌⁠‌ Pellenberg was unquestionably‍​ the same among​‌​ the second-years.

Until​‌ the previous year,​ he had been‍ ranked tenth, but⁠‍​ ever since entering​‍ the second year,​ he had climbed‍​ terrifyingly fast. Rumor‌‌ had it he’d⁠ been hiding his‌⁠​ true strength.

‘Was‌​ he really hiding⁠ it?’

— If not, it​​ makes no sense.⁠‍‍ You have my‍‌‌ help, but he‌‌‌ doesn’t.

‘But‍​⁠ why would someone‌‌‌ live hiding such​​ power? If it‌ were me, I’d​​ have shown it‍​‌ off from the‍⁠‍ beginning.’

As​‌⁠ Aint began to⁠‌ see Fernan in‍ a new light,​⁠‌ the latter slowly⁠ approached the fallen‍ corrupted.

“Crawling​ on the ground‍‌ like an insect—what‍ a fitting image.”⁠

“You⁠​‍ bastard…!”

“I‍ have a gift‌⁠‍ for you.”

He⁠‍ shoved a glass​ bottle into his‍ mouth. The holy⁠⁠ water inside began‌ forcing its way‍⁠‍ down his throat,​⁠‌ and the man⁠​‌ screamed as if⁠ being torn apart.​‌

“Kyaaaagh!”‌​⁠

“It’s⁠ good for your⁠‌⁠ body. Drink up.”‌

The‌‍‍ corrupted’s mouth and⁠ throat warped as‍‌​ if burning. Fernan​⁠ thrust his hand‌‌ inside him.

“What‌‌⁠ are you doing?”​‌​

“Just​‍ checking if he​ had tried it​⁠ before—guess not, huh?”‌

Maybe⁠ there was a self-censorship spell or‌‌ a magical restriction.⁠ If demons were​‌ involved, that made⁠ more sense.

“If‍​ I asked you‌ to reveal where‍ your master is,​​ you wouldn’t, right?”‌‍

“Don’t⁠​ be ridiculous! I might’ve lost because‍ I was weak,​⁠ but you’ll never⁠​ succeed! You’ll all‍‌‌ die here with​ me…!”

Then—‍

Crack.‌‌

The​​ corrupted’s chest caved‌‌‌ in and Fernan’s‌​ hand plunged inside.⁠⁠ The man coughed⁠ up blood.

Fernan‌⁠‍ poured holy water⁠​ into the gaping‍ hole in his⁠⁠ chest.

“GUAAAAAAAARGH!”​⁠

The‍‌‍ scream was far‍‌ more horrid than‌ before.

He’d‌ poured holy water‍ directly into the‌ mana heart, where‌​ the demonic energy​​ was concentrated. Naturally,⁠‌​ the clash triggered‌ such a reaction.‌​

“Thinking‍⁠ of self-destructing? You⁠​ think I’ll fall‍​‍ for the same​‌⁠ trick twice?”

Even‌ if a corrupted⁠ tried to self-destruct,⁠‌ it wasn’t a big deal. They⁠ merely caused their‌‌ demonic energy to‍ go haywire. But⁠ if you completely⁠​ removed that energy,‍‍‍ it became impossible.‍‍‌

“I⁠‌⁠ came up with‍ a fun idea.⁠‍​ Maybe I can‍⁠ purify you.”

Demons​⁠ or monsters descending​‍​ through magic were‍⁠ literally “Demons.” If⁠‌‌ he used enough⁠⁠ holy water, they​​ might be extinguished.‌​⁠

But‍‍​ the corrupted?

They​‌ were creatures of‍⁠ this middle world.‌⁠‍ Insects who betrayed​ humanity by worshipping​⁠‌ demons and receiving​ their power.

Since​ they weren’t original‌ demons, if their⁠‌ demonic energy was⁠ eliminated repeatedly, wouldn’t‌‌ only their original⁠‍‌ self remain?

“Will‌ you still stay​‌ loyal to the‍ demons and stay‌​ silent?”

It‌‍ required an enormous⁠‌ amount of holy⁠‌ water, but that‍ didn’t matter.

“You⁠ can expect the⁠‌‌ worst. I recently​ got a huge‍‍ supply.”

Unfortunately,‌ the corrupted had⁠‍‍ already passed out,⁠​ foaming at the‍​ mouth and eyes‌ rolled back. He⁠⁠ didn’t hear a word.

“A⁠⁠‌ brilliant idea. Making​​ him an ally‌ from the start‌⁠ was a masterstroke.”‍⁠

“If⁠ that holy water‍​ can purify the⁠‌​ corrupted, it’ll be⁠⁠ very useful.”

“Maybe‍‌ if we combine‍‍⁠ it with the‌‌‌ Armian light power,‌​ we’ll get even​⁠‍ better results.”

“Hmm?⁠‌ Aint, why are‍‍ you so pale?”‍

“…It’s​⁠ just that…”

He⁠‌ couldn’t say that​​ Fernan seemed more‍​‌ demonic than the‌‍​ actual demons.

“Stop​‍‍ talking nonsense. You‌‍ have someone more​‌​ reliable than anyone,⁠‍ and you think⁠‍​ that way.”

“You⁠​ still have a long way to‌ go.”

Of⁠‌‍ course, Gardner, who⁠ could read his‍​‌ mind, noticed instantly.⁠⁠‍

And‍‌ that day, Aint‍​‌ felt Gardner more⁠⁠⁠ distant than ever.‍⁠

***​

Screeech.‍‍​

After⁠ offering blood, the⁠ heavy door opened‍‍‍ smoothly. Just beyond,‍‌⁠ a set of‌​ descending stairs revealed‍​​ themselves.

They‍​ were long. About​​‌ a hundred meters,​ give or take.‍‍

They​‌ led from one‍​ underground level to​⁠ an even deeper‌‍⁠ one, making it⁠‌ hard to gauge⁠ how deep the​‌ place truly was.⁠⁠​

“Hey,​ are you sure‍‍⁠ I can enter⁠​ here?”

“Yes,‍ don’t worry. You‌​⁠ saved my life,‌ after all.”

“Well,⁠⁠‍ if you say⁠⁠‍ so…”

At‌‍​ the end of‍​​ the stairs was‍​⁠ a single door,⁠‌ and a short‍ corridor stretched ahead.​⁠ On both sides‍ were several murals.⁠

“This⁠ is…”

“Demons.”​‌​

“Demons,‌ huh?”

Ten‌ figures were painted‌⁠ on the mural,​​ but they weren’t​ human. Despite being‌​ mere illustrations, they⁠ sent chills down‌​ the spine and​⁠⁠ stirred deep revulsion.‍

Aint​ stopped in front‍⁠​ of one with⁠ a humanoid form‌‍ and a snake​ coiled around its‍ arm.

“This‍​⁠ is Demon No.‍ 72, Andromalius. The​‌ one next to⁠ him is Dantalion,‌‍ number 71.”

Dantalion‍​ had a human⁠⁠ form, but multiple​ heads, and held‍ a book in‍‍⁠ one hand.

“But‌⁠‍ why are they‌ looking at each‍⁠‌ other with such‍⁠ hate?”

“They​‌‍ don’t seem to​‌ get along.”

And‌ not just them.⁠​⁠ Every pair of‍‌​ demons portrayed looked‍​‌ at each other‍ with clear hostility.⁠⁠

“The‌ kid’s right. Not​‌ all demons get‍ along.”

“Just‌‌ like humans have‌ many kingdoms and⁠​⁠ factions, demons also‌ group and compete.”⁠⁠⁠

“If⁠ the former emperor‍​ hadn’t taken advantage‍​ of that, he⁠​​ might not have​‌ defeated Colomo.”

After⁠​ walking past the‌‍‌ corridor, they offered⁠‍‌ blood again, and‌ another door opened.‍‍‍ There, Aint found‌⁠ what he was​‍ seeking.

A small artifact, white‌​ as snow, shaped⁠​‌ like a fragment.‌​‍

“Is​⁠ this part of‍​​ the first emperor’s‍ legacy? A fragment?”⁠⁠

“It’s‌​⁠ an accessory. For‍‌‌ that sword.”

“I‍‍ see. Then I’ll⁠ take it.”

Aint⁠⁠⁠ nodded and stepped​ forward slowly.

“There’s‌⁠⁠ a high-level barrier‌​‌ around it. Extend​⁠​ your sword. It‍ will react and⁠​ dissipate.”

As‌‍ soon as he‌ extended it, a ripple spread. The⁠ invisible barrier faded‌ like mist.

Click,⁠ the fragment fit⁠​ perfectly into a slot on the‍⁠ hilt.

The‌⁠‍ energy leaking from⁠‌‌ it made him‍ hold his breath‌⁠ in awe.

“All‌⁠ done.”

“But‍‍ I feel kinda‌ bad… He saved​​ my life, and⁠ I’m the one‌⁠ getting this… I want to give​ him something.”

As​‍ a poor descendant⁠ of the former‍ imperial family, he‌​‌ had nothing to​‍⁠ offer. Or rather,​​ nothing that could​ satisfy Fernan.

“No,‌ you do have‌‍ something that can‍​​ satisfy me.”

Fernan‌​‍ shook his head‍ firmly.

“Huh?”⁠⁠

“Would‍⁠ you really give‍​ me anything?”

“…Yes.⁠‍‍ As long as‌⁠ it’s not this​‌ sword…”

“It’s‍ not. It’s that​‌‌ over there.”

Fernan⁠‍‌ pointed upward. Aint‌‍ looked up to​‍‌ follow his finger.‍‍

The‍‍ ceiling. There was‌​​ nothing but a few magic lamps⁠‌⁠ embedded here and‌⁠ there.

“…Other⁠​​ than the magic‍​​ lamps, there’s nothing⁠‍​ there.”

“Exactly.​ That’s what I want.”

“Huh?”‍

“Give‌ me all the⁠⁠ magic lamps installed​⁠ in this dungeon.‌‌ That’ll be enough.”​‌

From‌‌⁠ the entrance to​ here, there were⁠‌​ exactly one hundred.‍‌ This dungeon was⁠⁠‍ a real treasure‌‍⁠ trove.

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