Chapter 72

The most important thing for a successful bet is to wager on a sure winner.

In that sense, Fernan had more chances of being right than anyone else. Thanks to the prophecy, he knew who would rise and who would fall.

Except for one person—Aint Armian.

‘Aint in the prophecy and Aint now are very different.’

Many things had changed since he first met him.

In that process, Aint had strayed quite a bit from the path he was originally supposed to follow.

The problem was that he couldn’t know whether that was good or bad. Therefore, he couldn’t have full confidence that Aint would end up in the same position the prophecy dictated.

‘In the prophecy, Aint made it to the semifinals.’

And he fell before Luina.

It was understandable.

Aint was strong, of course, and he had defeated Andromalius, but that was only possible because the swordsmanship of the Armian Family was particularly effective against demons.

If speaking purely of sword skill, he still couldn’t defeat Luina.

Though that wouldn’t last long, given how quickly he was advancing.

At least in this joust, it was not yet his time.

But since the past had already changed, Fernan couldn’t be sure the result would be the same.

‘Should I probe Aint? Ask him if he can defeat Luina…’

Though, that wouldn’t guarantee a clear answer either.

‘Thinking about this won’t get me anywhere. Better to observe how he reaches the semifinals and decide then.’

After organizing his thoughts, Fernan left the dormitory heading to the guild. Between the festival and the betting house, he had a mountain of work.

At that moment, he saw Aint sitting on a bench.

“Aint Armian?”

When Fernan called him, Aint, who had been looking at the sky, finally focused his gaze.

“Ah, Senior Fernan.”

“What are you doing here so absentminded?”

“Ah, that…”

He was trying to stabilize the power absorbed from Andromalius. The demonic energy was extremely unstable, and if he didn’t manage to fully absorb it, it could spiral out of control at any moment.

But he couldn’t say it outright.

— Say that you’re mentally reviewing the fight with the demon.

“I was thinking about the corrupted.”

“The corrupted?”

“After we defeated Andromalius, I thought they might be plotting something else. I don’t think they’ll sit idly by.”

“A second plan, huh?”

Fernan tapped his knee with his fingers. It wasn’t an unreasonable possibility.

People often let their guard down right after completing a mission.

After Andromalius’s death and the purge of the corrupted infiltrators, the academy was at its most vulnerable point.

“Certainly, the Foundation Day Festival would be the ideal stage to cause chaos.”

Everything was already set. If they wanted to make a scene, there would be no more perfect moment.

However, Fernan knew that wouldn’t happen.

“Don’t worry. At least until the festival ends, nothing will happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He couldn’t answer “because I already read it.”

“In the ritual to summon Andromalius, a corrupted branch of the World Tree was used. Getting something similar in such a short time is impossible.”

“Well, that’s true…”

“And besides, most of the infiltrators have already been eliminated. What could they do now?”

Nothing.

Even without the prophecy, it was a logical conclusion.

Unless they acted like desperate lunatics, there wasn’t much room to maneuver.

And it didn’t seem like the rector was that careless.

“Now that I think about it, yes. Although I must admit I was worried.”

“Worried about what?”

“There will be many important figures of the Empire at the academy. If something happened here, the entire capital would be affected. I imagined a scenario where the corrupted released monsters and provoked a war…”

“War? You went too far.”

Though of course, in the future there would indeed be a large-scale war for the fate of the world—but not yet.

“Ugh…”

At that moment.

BOOM!

A thunderous roar shook his mind.

Fernan felt a stabbing pain as if his skull were about to explode.

His vision blurred, and in that black space a new scene appeared.

A vision of the prophecy, more vivid and darker than usual. The sky was dyed blood red.

Just as it happened when he read about the summoning of Andromalius. Just as when the demon appeared.

‘Another demon…?’

Atop a wall, Aint stood with his back to the town.

Luina approached him.

“…Aint.”

“Senior, the truth is that I’m afraid. But I remember what you told me last time—that a knight is the sword that defeats his lord’s enemies and the shield that protects him.”

A knight does not flee nor die after his lord.

“…You didn’t need to remember that.”

“No. Thanks to that, I feel calmer.”

Shing, Aint unsheathed his sword. The blade radiated a faint light.

“I’ll only tell you this—I want to raise my family again.”

He wanted to restore the Armian Family and return it to its former glory.

“You…”

“Someone once said that the emperor is the knight of the Empire.”

That was why he couldn’t afford to run from his country.

Time advanced quickly.

The wall was already filled with soldiers.

Aint, Luina, and other first-year students watched intently at the vast open field.

And there they were.

GRRRROAAAAR.

KRRRRRRR.

A massive horde of monsters and demonic beasts raising a cloud of dust in their wake.

And at the very end of it all.

Him.

“…A demon? This… this makes no sense…”

“A demon!?”

“A real demon! Hahaha, we’re all going to die!”

“We have to run!”

“And can we?”

The power and presence of the demon were so overwhelming that everyone was terrified.
Fernan felt a chill. That demon was nothing like Andromalius.

He was not alone.

He led an army of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of monsters.

He tried to get a better look at the demon, but he was too far away.

“Fighting is pointless? Accept your death. That is your destiny.”

“No!”

“I don’t want to die…!”

The demon’s soft voice filled everyone with terror.

Then Aint raised his sword. The light that radiated from his blade spread across the entire wall, dispelling the miasma of the demon’s voice.

“Come to your senses!”

“Are you really going to stand there trembling in fear just because it’s a demon?”

“Are you going to die like this, without doing anything?”

“No. There is no reason to surrender, no need to do so.”

“A thousand years ago, the first emperor defeated all the demons and saved the world. They are not invincible.”

Aint’s words were not particularly brilliant. But his light restored courage to their hearts.

And the harsh reality—that if they did not fight, they would die—gave them determination.

Aint Armian. His mere presence brought hope.

“Yes! Better to die standing than to die on our knees!”

“We have Aint Armian!”

“The natural enemy of demons!”

Shouts full of courage and rage filled the air.

And then.

The war horn sounded.

The beginning of battle.

The monsters advanced, roaring.

The field was covered in dust.

“Prepare for battle!”

“Everyone to your positions!”

The knights lined up at the front. The mages began chanting.

The first rains of spells fell upon the enemy. Screams of pain and fury filled the air.

When at last the monsters reached the wall—

“Long live the Dark Wolf Company!”

“Knights of the Iron Cross, to the front!”

“Soldiers! Defend the kingdom!”

“Long live the Armian Empire!”

“Long live the Armian Empire!”

“Long live the Armian Empire!”

The vision ended.

“…”

Fernan inhaled sharply. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging, his body trembling.

“Haa… haa…!”

He had never felt such a terrifying miasma.

His head throbbed violently, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Senior? You’re sweating… Are you alright?”

“…Yes. I’m fine.”

He was not fine. He had never felt anything so horrible.

‘Who the hell was that?’

Fernan stood up abruptly.

“Senior?”

“I remembered a quote. We’ll talk later.”

“Senior!”

Fernan disappeared immediately. Aint could only watch his figure leaving, confused.

“What was that?”

— It’s similar to last time. For a second he lost perception.

“I didn’t notice anything strange.”

— Neither did I. Who knows what it was.

— Could it be an illness?

“Maybe… he looked like he was in terrible pain. Not even all the money could save him.”

— Anyway, since we already calmed the miasma, let’s return to the dormitory and finish absorbing it.

“Understood.”

Aint returned to his room.

***

“A demon, a demon…!”

The place Fernan arrived at was the library.

Among the few books about demons, the one he grabbed was The King Colomo and the 72 Demons.

Though it didn’t give much detail, the book offered a basic description of the characteristics and appearances of some demons.

“No, not this one…”

He flipped through the pages quickly.

Although he had only seen it from afar and not clearly, he remembered the features that stood out strongly.

And finally…

“…I found it.”

Fernan had found the demon he saw in the prophecy book.

“Demon number 64: Flauros.

A demon with the appearance of a leopard. Can transform into human form, and when he does, he appears with the head and skin of a leopard covering him.”

Although he took on a human form, his face was that of a leopard, and he wore its skin. There was no doubt. It was him.

“…Demon number 64, Flauros?”

Fernan clenched the book tightly.

Why had number 64 appeared right after 72? What about the others?

‘No… calm down. The number isn’t an indicator of power or hierarchy. It’s just a number.’

That’s what it said at the beginning of The King Colomo and the 72 Demons.

So there shouldn’t be an abysmal difference between 72 and 64 in terms of power.

‘…Then, what was that mana?’

It seemed to be on a completely different level from Andromalius.

Fernan, drenched in cold sweat, reread the book as best he could.

There was something more in Flauros’s description.

“Flauros is an exceptional warrior. His red eyes are always aflame, and he can control fire through his authority.”

A leopard warrior who uses fire.

“Hahaha.”

He had thought this prophecy was simple, and that he could easily make money without risk.

“I’m screwed.”

The descent of a monster from a dimension completely different from Andromalius was foretold.

And as if that weren’t enough, he would descend at the head of a great army, worthy of the title “commander of the legions of hell.”

Damn it. How was he supposed to stop that?