A few days before Andrealphus descended upon the Academy.
In the underground depths of the northern Empire, a battle was being fought that would decide the fate of the world.
“How dare you use that cursed power?!”
Flauros’s bewildered face and voice were filled with confusion and rage.
Fernan didn’t quite understand the situation.
“Cursed power?”
Was he using something like that?
That was the term demons—or the corrupt—used to refer to the power of the Armian.
“Who the hell are you?! How do you have the power of the Armian…?”
“I’m Fernan Pellenberg.”
“So those Armian worms sold their secret sword art to the Pellenbergs!”
“Looks like you’re seriously mistaken.”
To begin with, this wasn’t even swordsmanship.
“Yes, right. Armian is swordsmanship, but why does it feel like magic…?”
Fernan drew power once again from the Dragon Heart.
A wave of steel infused with even denser mana surged toward Flauros.
“You damned insect!”
Flauros roared and swung his spear.
The demonic magic exploded, shattering the steel wave, but Fernan didn’t let the fierce feedback escape him.
‘Could it be…?’
This wasn’t the typical interaction between mana and demonic magic.
It was the reaction between the power of the Armian and demonic magic.
A force almost naturally hostile—a clash between mortal enemies.
It resembled the state of monsters when they died at Aint’s hands, and also when Andromalius was devoured during their battle.
That’s when Fernan became sure.
It was true.
‘This is the power of the Armian.’
No, that was the wrong way to put it.
In truth, the power of the Armian was the power of the dragon.
Then—
Fernan wiped the blood dripping from his nose and fixed his gaze on Flauros.
Was he supposed to fear him just because he was a demon?
Even if there wasn’t a Royal Knight or an Archmage here, he had by his side a mage comparable to an Archmage and a golem whose raw strength matched that of a Royal Knight.
Fernan smiled.
He thought he would die without ever spending all his money, but his gold had not yet abandoned him.
“Wooden! Push him with everything! Professor!”
“After this, you’ll owe me a very clear explanation of what’s going on.”
Professor Rosalia’s eyes were full of questions, but she wasn’t foolish enough to waste this opportunity.
Whatever it was, Fernan possessed the power of Armian.
And Flauros was rattled.
It was the perfect moment to bring him down.
Wooden charged first.
─!
Sword and spear collided, unleashing a shockwave that shook the cavern.
Wooden was knocked back as if he’d bounced off.
Through the crack came a sandstorm.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The sand spun in a relentless whirlwind around the demon.
Each grain carried the power of the dragon, and before that storm, Flauros screamed in pain.
Szzz—
The acrid smoke devoured the demonic magic.
Flauros choked on a groan, while Fernan coughed up blood.
And at the same time—
Swoosh—
An extreme cold surged in, freezing even demonic magic.
The demon’s skin was coated in frost, his movements slowed, and his magic flow was disrupted.
Amidst the storm of sand and ice, Wooden charged again.
─!
A brutal downward slash.
Flauros’s knee buckled for a moment.
Proof that, at least in brute strength, the golem could match the demon.
— Guoooo!
Wooden roared in triumph and unleashed a flurry of unstoppable strikes, pouring out everything he’d learned from Emond Altrierc.
In an instant, dozens of exchanges occurred.
The ground cracked, fragments of aura and demonic magic burst in every direction.
In the end, Flauros couldn’t withstand it and was thrown back.
He tried to catch his breath, but the sandstorm kept devouring his field of vision and corroding his magic.
“You damned bastards…!”
Flauros roared in fury.
Something was going terribly wrong.
He had prepared this trap to finish off Fernan Pellenberg.
Yet everything had turned upside down.
Was it an illusion to think he was the one trapped?
No—it wasn’t.
If Fernan didn’t possess that aura of a true adversary, this would have been a simple ambush.
But with that power, everything had changed.
The golem, the ice mage stronger than expected, and Fernan with that cursed power.
The arrogance with which he had underestimated them vanished.
“If I kill them all, it’ll deal a devastating blow to the humans too.”
And most of all, he had to kill Fernan Pellenberg, who had acquired that cursed power, right here.
Otherwise, he would become a dangerous obstacle to future plans.
Flauros clenched his fist, and demonic magic exploded around him.
Fernan’s sand tried to devour it, but he didn’t stop—if his strength was being corroded, he’d just release more.
It would end here, in a swift and decisive battle.
Crack, crack.
Flauros’s body, enveloped in demonic magic, twisted grotesquely.
His muscles swelled, his body grew.
Rumble, rumble.
The cavern’s space was too narrow to contain him.
The ceiling began to collapse.
“Get back!”
The vault crumbled.
Fernan’s sand vanished—perhaps because he had to focus on his own damaged body.
“I’ll kill you all.”
Flauros revealed his true form, over 10 meters tall.
His skin fused with his flesh, and claws, nails, and fangs grew sharper.
He lifted his foot and brought it down on the golem.
He was certain that with that stomp, charged with demonic magic, he would crush it.
— Guoooooo!
But his certainty shattered.
The foot met resistance.
Not just resistance—a force that pushed it back.
A force that flipped it entirely, standing face to face at the same height.
“…What?”
A golem over 10 meters tall stood before him.
“…How? Wasn’t it only human-sized?”
Only then did he realize that this golem had always hung from Fernan’s necklace.
The surprise didn’t last long.
— Gwoooooong!
From the golem’s mouth came an even sharper roar.
Immediately, it swung its sword.
The unexpected strike was barely blocked by Flauros, who lost his balance and rolled across the ground.
“How is this possible…?!”
The confusion didn’t fade even amidst battle.
Was what he was seeing real?
Not even in the war a thousand years ago, when Kallinos Armian raged across the battlefield, had something like this been seen.
Flauros grabbed his spear and lunged forward.
Wooden’s sword met it.
────!
The shockwave, amplified by their colossal sizes, shook the entire mountain.
In that clash, superiority was clear.
Flauros didn’t give an inch, while Wooden was pushed back several meters.
But the golem wasn’t alone.
The sandstorm roared again with the cursed power, and the ice froze his legs completely.
The triple assault gave him no breathing room.
None of them were weak, and with that cursed power devouring his magic, he couldn’t unleash his full strength.
Even the golem’s aura, though not cursed power, counteracted demonic magic from another angle.
‘Am I the weak one? Am I falling before mere mortals…?’
No. Impossible.
He was a demon.
A lord of the Demon Realm, commander of 21 legions.
There was no reason for him to lose.
And yet, he was being pushed back.
Because his enemies weren’t ordinary either.
The ice mage relentlessly disrupted his movements.
The golem, with strength comparable to the mightiest demons, fought him on equal footing.
And Fernan Pellenberg, with that cursed power, suffocated him.
The coordination between the three was fluid and organic, as if they were a perfectly designed prison.
Any demon who wasn’t among the highest would have already fallen.
At last, Flauros made another decision.
“You think you’re the only ones who can fight as a team?!”
Fiuuuuu—
He let out a whistle.
A shadow covered the sky.
A gigantic black bird, with wings over ten meters wide, descended.
It was his companion and pet, the winged beast Plar.
If Plar could handle one of them, he could eliminate the other two.
Or so he thought for a moment.
Piiiiiiiiiii—
Another cry echoed.
One that didn’t come from Plar.
“…A Saintbird?”
The cursed bird once ridden by Kallinos Armian.
Above Plar, a Saintbird with two pairs of wings appeared.
And, far too naturally—
─!
Kyaaaaaaaa!
It dove at Plar.
The black bird was torn apart and fell in a dive with a shriek.
“…This is… a dream.”
The demon denied reality.
***
“That’s how I defeated Flauros and flew here on Silver the moment I heard the Academy was in danger. I couldn’t just stay still.”
Fernan spoke as he ran swiftly.
“Luckily I wasn’t wrong. I managed to rescue you before something worse happened.”
“I appreciate it, but…”
Luina left the sentence hanging.
“Let me down first…”
“Your bones haven’t fully mended yet. I’ll let you down soon.”
“…”
Her face turned impossibly red; at that moment, she was being held in Fernan’s arms like a princess.
“This reminds me of when we found Decarabia’s egg.”
“Back then our roles were different.”
“You keep strange memories. Your expression at that moment was quite the spectacle.”
“So is yours right now.”
“…”
Luina changed the subject.
“And is it okay to leave Wooden like that? Even if it’s Wooden…”
“Of course not. Even if Professor Grad is a Royal Knight, Wooden, the professor, and Jace aren’t enough.”
“Professor Grad is a Royal Knight?”
“You didn’t know?”
“How would I have known?”
“I knew.”
Fernan hadn’t been generous with Grad out of whim—he gave him money because he truly deserved it.
“Are you messing with me?”
“No. I’m just telling the truth.”
“Professor Grad… a Royal Knight? Seriously?”
Normally, Royal Knights and Archmages display their rank openly. But there was one exception—a man who had once been a mercenary and rivaled the Mercenary King. He always wore a mask and never showed his face.
“He’s probably that man.”
“My god… I didn’t realize I had a Royal Knight so close.”
Luina scolded herself.
“Don’t blame yourself—the professor hid it well.”
“And where are we going?”
Still carrying Luina, Fernan continued moving.
“To the research block.”
“The research block?”
“Didn’t you ask earlier if we could leave the three of them alone?”
“Obviously not. No matter how much of a Royal Knight Grad is, no matter how great a saint Jace is, or how much of a masterpiece Wooden may be—a demon is still a demon.”
“I’m going to find more fighters.”
“More participants?”
“I sense the strongest concentration of demonic magic in the research block.”
That’s where the corrupt could have laid traps. And if they had done that before summoning demons, there was only one person they would want to trap.
“Aint is there?”
“Yes. Those idiots seemed so scared of Aint that they locked him up before starting anything.”
“Then we have to free him.”
“If a demon has appeared, it’s only logical that the antagonist who’s fought them for a thousand years shows up too.”
____
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