“Magical Survival Skills”, “Combat, War, and Magic”, and “Study of Beasts and Demonic Monsters.”
These three courses formed the foundation during the first year and, from the second year onward, were held regularly—no, always—as joint lectures with the Knight Department.
They were also subjects that prioritized practical training over theory.
The Knight Department course, “Practical War and Combat,” was in the same vein as those three magic classes.
“The time has come.”
It had already been a month since Fernan and Luina tied for first place in their first joint class.
Although there had been no major incidents during that time, for Fernan, the peace felt like the calm before the storm.
“Another anomaly will occur during today’s training.”
It was a clearly established passage in the Book of Prophecies.
Today’s goal was to witness that event firsthand and, more importantly, to observe Berian Kalburdern, who, starting from this incident, would begin his descent into becoming a puppet of the devil.
With the plan organized, Fernan called his assistant.
“Hyde. You’ve distributed the money, right?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fernan threw a cloak over his shoulders.
“Winner Aint Armian!”
It was quite an entertaining sight.
Watching how the future foretold in the Book of Prophecies unfolded exactly as written.
“My God, he won!”
“Aint beat Verian?”
“No way! How?!”
“He was ranked 38th at enrollment, right? How’s that possible after just a month or two?”
It was a delight to see people react so dramatically to a future that, for most, was entirely unexpected.
It gave Fernan a subtle sense of superiority, of knowing something no one else did.
“I could really get addicted to this.”
It seemed like it could become quite a pleasant hobby.
Fernan rested his chin on his hand and calmly reviewed in his mind the battle between Verian and Aint.
“It wasn’t exactly as the prophecy described.”
He couldn’t say Aint had easily beaten Verian. But neither was the fight as close as the prophecy had hinted.
“Was it thanks to the elixir?”
He could clearly feel that Aint’s energy had increased.
While Verian excelled in swordsmanship, Aint had simply overwhelmed him with his aura.
And it certainly wasn’t as if Fernan’s efforts had nothing to do with it.
A satisfied smile formed on his lips.
“My actions may be small, but the future changes.”
He had already confirmed this once, with the incident involving Carlo.
Seeing it again brought an involuntary smile.
It was that feeling—that he could really change a bleak future with his own hands—that gave him confidence.
“Was it thanks to the elixir?”
“Well, it certainly played a role.”
“Then are you saying Aint would have won even without it?”
“That’s something no one can know.”
Fernan shrugged and lightly tapped the armrest with his finger.
Now his gaze wasn’t fixed on the victor, but on the loser—Verian Kalburdern.
The rising star of the aristocracy.
Heir to the House of Kalburdern, a powerful marquess family.
Honestly, at first, it seemed strange to him—no matter how shocking it was, why would someone turn to the path of demons after a single defeat?
But once you understood the inner workings of the Kalburdern family, it no longer seemed so strange.
“Hyde.”
“Yes, young master?”
“Is Kalburdern still meeting frequently with other nobles these days?”
“Yes. In fact, his already active political engagements have only increased since Fridian gained the authority of the Golden Decree.”
Elector Prince.
One of the only seven in the Empire.
Those glorious few who had the authority to choose the next Emperor.
Originally, they were the founding heroes of the Empire.
The royal Armian family, the root of the Empire, and the descendants of the five kingdoms and the church united by the First Emperor.
To the Empire, the Elector Princes were towering pillars—fortresses no one dared challenge.
And yet, for the first time, one of those pillars had collapsed, and a new one had risen in its place.
“Those who think there’s not much difference between them and the new pillar must feel it’s a missed opportunity.”
They would think, and keep thinking, that it should’ve been their seat.
And they would begin to derive new possibilities from that thought.
“If it was possible once, why not again?” would be their conclusion.
And in that process, Schwaben’s and Kalburdern’s interests aligned.
For Schwaben, the old royal family was a thorn in the eye.
And for Kalburdern, the old royal family—now the weakest of the Seven Pillars—was an easy target.
Their alliance was the most natural outcome.
Thus, what appeared on the surface to be a simple student duel was, underneath, a war between Kalburdern and Schwaben aimed at toppling Armian.
And Kalburdern lost.
“…This can’t be happening.”
While everyone else cheered or gasped at the shocking outcome, Verian Kalburdern bowed his head, drowning in solitude among the crowd.
Incredibly, no one paid him any attention.
‘If I lose to Aint and the prophecy comes true as written… will I end up like this? Forgotten by the protagonist recognized by the world?’
The dreadful thought made Fernan stifle a groan.
“…It’s quite curious, though.”
“What is?”
“Aint Armian causes an anomaly every time you attend, young master.”
The assistant’s eyes grew suspicious.
“It’s just a coincidence.”
Fernan dismissed it casually, but in truth, it was intentional. There was a reason he brought Hyde to these visits. Later, when the Book of Prophecies was revealed, it would serve as breadcrumbs to make the story more believable.
“For now, I’ll take your word for it.”
“Hyde.”
“Yes?”
“Keep an eye on Verian.”
“You mean Verian Kalburdern?”
The Book of Prophecies often skipped time. Between Verian’s defeat, his humiliation by Ludger, and his next duel with Aint during the midterm elections, there was an interval of about two weeks.
But it never mentioned how, or exactly when, Verian made contact with the devil and gained power.
It happened suddenly, two weeks later.
For Fernan—who valued not just results but the process and the evidence gathered along the way—this omission was frustrating.
The result needed no elaboration—after all, it was already decided. Aint Armian would stop him.
“Yes. Watch where he goes…”
Where Verian met the demon.
“Who he meets—”
How the encounter happened.
“What conversations he has—”
How the devil tempted him.
Everything. Down to the last detail.
“You want me to tail the heir of Kalburdern?”
“As long as you don’t get caught. Are you saying you can’t?”
“I never said that. Yes, I understand. Until when should I continue?”
“Until I say stop.”
“Yes, young master.”
After that, Fernan turned his attention to Aint’s allies mentioned in the prophecy.
Valoshi Bienderk and Varus Dene.
“He sure has an amazing partner—the heir of Bienderk, head of the Knight Department, and disciple of the Mercenary King, third in the rankings.”
They were the kind of people who would be strong supporters even outside the academy.
Fernan thought: ‘So this is the protagonist of the prophecy.’ But on the other hand, maybe that level of support was necessary to withstand the resurgence of demons.
Valoshi and Varus lived up to their reputations and won their matches. Along with Aint, they congratulated each other on their victories.
“Bienderk and Armian are friends? Is… is that allowed?”
“They’ll sort it out themselves.”
Fernan shrugged, but his gaze once again settled on Verian.
He was clenching his teeth as he looked back and forth between Valoshi and Aint.
‘Ah… now that I think about it…’
Verian had been desperate to connect with Valoshi. And yet, the one who drew him wasn’t him, but Aint.
That too probably played a role in pushing Verian to make a deal with the devil.
‘The world is practically shoving him into the demon’s arms.’
Having confirmed everything he needed, Fernan rose from his seat.
“…”
Anomalies always spread faster than typical rumors.
The news that Aint Armian had defeated Verian Kalburdern quickly spread throughout the academy.
***
“I have nothing to apologize for. My expectations were simply too high. For now, take some time to recover, both physically and mentally. We’ll speak again if the opportunity arises.”
“This can’t be happening.”
Verian, who had just returned from his meeting with Prince Ludger, swallowed hard.
He knew. He knew how absurd this defeat was.
Setting aside the fact that it was Armian—how could the student ranked second lose to someone who was ranked 38th at admission? Even if Anton, who was ranked 10th, had lost earlier, the gap between second and tenth was still significant.
‘…Damn it.’
This incident wasn’t going to cause major problems.
Schwaben and Kalburdern still had many cards to play to bring down Armian. Verian was just the first sword they had drawn.
Yes, on a broader scale, it wasn’t a fatal issue.
‘But what about me…?’
He hadn’t just failed his family’s expectations—he had lost to none other than Armian himself.
The Kalburdern Family and Verian Kalburdern were two entirely separate entities.
The real problem was that the family already had someone else who could replace him.
He wasn’t the only heir. He had a younger brother, and that kid’s talent was nothing to scoff at.
‘…That bastard… dares to eye my family…!’
And his little brother certainly wasn’t lacking in ambition.
If this incident was the spark…
The prince would be disappointed. His father would be furious. It wasn’t a far-fetched situation—it was entirely possible.
‘I have to win. There won’t be a second chance for me.’
The cause of it all was Aint Armian. This situation had started because he lost to him. The best way to fix it was to defeat Aint and regain his prestige and honor.
‘My swordsmanship was superior.’
Even against Aint, whose swordsmanship had barely been honed through live combat, Verian had a slight edge.
But the problem was his energy.
‘His aura is…’
It was pure and dense. In a clash of auras, Verian felt overwhelmed.
‘How the hell…?’
He had been raised among the elite with family support from a young age. Swordsmanship, etiquette, education, and even all kinds of elixirs—he had it all.
It made no sense that Aint, heir to a ruined family, would possess more aura than him.
And yet, the result was clear. And now, Verian had no choice but to turn the situation around.
‘I will…’
His hand clenched tightly around his sword’s hilt.
[Verian Kalburdern continues moving between lectures, dormitories, the city, and training fields, doing nothing but swinging his sword.]
[He encounters other students and professors during class, but engages in no meaningful conversations.]
[In the city, he visits bookstores, grocery stores, general stores, and blacksmiths, buying or repairing things; so far, there’s been no suspicious activity.]
[Since that day, there has been no further contact with Prince Ludger.]
[No unusual developments so far. I will continue to report periodically.]
***
After returning from lunch, Fernan reviewed the report on his desk.
So far, no contact. Then how is it possible…?
Demons were not ordinary beings.
A thousand years ago, they had been completely eradicated by the founding Emperor of the Empire, and every trace of them was wiped out.
Information about demons had become taboo. Even if someone wanted to search for them, it was impossible.
“There’s no way Verian would think of demons on his own.”
In a thousand years, humanity had erased the word “demon” from its collective memory. The idea that Verian would consider making a pact with one on his own was nearly impossible.
‘Then it must be…’
The demons, still hiding among humans, must be the ones approaching Verian first.
That’s why it was critical to monitor Verian’s every move. It was a chance to trace the presence of demons.
Two weeks passed.
And curiously, nothing happened.
‘…This can’t be right.’
Something should have happened. It had to. It was supposed to.
“Impossible… Could it be false? Is the most important part of the prophecy—the demon contract—a lie?”
There were only two days left until the Knight Department’s midterms, when Aint Armian was destined to fight Verian Kalburdern, who by then was supposed to have fallen to the demons.
