Chapter 15
A demon.
It’s a demon. No doubt about it.
The one standing across from me, silently observing Uriel — that creature was a demon.
How could I ever forget?
That stench, that suffocating aura.
I’d fought their kind for more than ten years.
Men who laughed with me one day came back the next as mangled corpses.
“Those monsters eat people alive.”
Countless comrades had fallen to those claws.
And now — those very monsters had infiltrated the academy.
And worse still, one of them was watching my student.
Instantly, killing intent surged up like wildfire. My body moved on its own, battle instincts roaring awake.
If it came to it, I’d hurl whatever I could grab and dive straight into close combat.
I didn’t need a weapon.
My fists would smash bones, my teeth would tear through veins—
“…Calm down. Not yet. Not now.”
I forced down the primal fury clawing at my chest.
Yes. Now wasn’t the time.
The body I currently inhabited might not know, but my soul, born from another world, remembered perfectly well.
It knew why that demon wasn’t on the battlefield but here, in this academy.
It knew its mission, and what it was hiding so carefully.
“In worlds like this, it’s always the same — the inevitable Academy Raid.”
Wherever there’s an academy full of protagonists, a raid is bound to happen.
Of course, the students here had no idea — but I did.
That demon was a scout unit, sent ahead by the main force.
Its job: infiltrate, analyze the academy’s structure, pinpoint the most destructive targets.
Identify key figures — those who might become threats — and mark them for early elimination.
“……”
Had it noticed my killing intent?
The demon’s aura flickered for a heartbeat.
I feared it might flee, but thankfully, it remained where it was.
Good. The killing intent had been brief — a mere flash — and I’d erased it just as quickly.
It must’ve dismissed it as imagination.
If it had actually retreated, the problem would’ve been far worse than simply losing sight of it.
It might’ve alerted its unit, made them lie low.
Then I’d lose the chance to trace the line — from the scout, to the main strike force.
No, I couldn’t risk that.
I already knew their plan.
But if my slip-up altered their timeline, all my advantage would vanish.
Information was a weapon — and I’d never give it up.
Time passed.
The demon’s presence slowly faded, until it vanished entirely.
Maybe it hadn’t noticed me.
Maybe it had.
Either way, I couldn’t take chances.
I let my aura show once more and walked toward Uriel.
“Instructor? When did you get here?!”
She blinked up at me, startled.
Apparently, she’d been too focused on training to notice my approach.
Not surprising. I’d deliberately hidden my presence.
“I came to check your progress,” I said. “How’s it going?”
“Well… honestly?” She hesitated. “It’s hard. Completely different from what I’m used to. Even my sword feels wrong in my hands.”
“I understand. It’s not just ‘adding a second sword.’ It’s more like…”
I gave a wry smile.
“…rewriting your entire body from scratch.”
If it were any other student, I’d never dare.
It’s like telling a child who’s learned to walk to start moving on their hands instead.
But Uriel was different.
This was her destiny.
Only by wielding two blades could she reach the true beginning of her legend.
“When you get used to handling both swords,” I said, “we’ll move on to the next stage.”
“You’ll teach me yourself? Wait — do you use dual blades too?”
“Unfortunately, I was never close with swords.”
If a commoner so much as touched a blade, the nobles would foam at the mouth — babbling about lineage, authority, and other nonsense.
I’d preferred axes anyway, and after certain incidents, I avoided swords altogether.
Though… I had picked up a few now and then — not to master them, but to learn the best ways to kill those who did.
While chatting with her, I quietly examined her aura.
The demon was far away — hadn’t physically touched her, at least.
That left only one possibility: magic.
“…Found it.”
Of course. Those damnable demons were meticulous to the last breath.
I almost missed it — a faint mark of mana, hidden beneath her hair, on the back of her neck.
Invisible to the naked eye.
Even a skilled mage might not notice.
It was a technique used by demon assassins — one I’d seen too many times in the war.
“A mark of assassination.”
It meant she’d been selected.
A future threat, to be cut down before she bloomed.
The same Uriel who’d once been at the bottom of her class, on the verge of expulsion, praying desperately to any god who’d listen—
Now she bore a demon’s death mark.
I should have been furious.
Any sane man would be.
But instead, I felt something… almost like pride.
“So even the demons see her as dangerous, huh?”
A laugh escaped me — bitter, but genuine.
At least now I was sure of one thing.
The demon hadn’t realized I’d noticed.
If it had, it never would’ve left such a mark behind.
They’d just confirmed it themselves — that their infiltration was underway.
And soon — very soon —
The Academy Raid would begin.
“Instructor?”
“Hm?”
“You’ve been staring off for a while. Is something wrong?”
“No. Just… telling you to keep up the effort.”
I considered removing the demon’s mark from her neck.
But no — if I erased it, they’d know something was wrong.
It wasn’t the kind of mark that vanished by chance.
“Next week.”
“Sorry?”
“I’ll check your progress next week.”
“Next week?!” She gasped. “But I just started learning dual blades!”
Sorry, kid.
But I didn’t have a choice.
Next week was D-Day.
If I couldn’t remove the mark, then I’d just have to stay close and keep her safe myself.
Not to shield her like some fragile flower in a greenhouse — that would only weaken her.
But…
I refuse to let her die meaninglessly.
“Please, at least make it the week after!” she pleaded.
After parting with Uriel, I walked toward my quarters — but didn’t make it far.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t suppress it anymore.
“…Damn it.”
My two selves — the man I was here, and the man I’d been there — were colliding violently.
The calm instructor versus the soldier fueled by wrath and ghosts.
My insides churned like twisted metal.
My head burned. My eyes ached.
I wanted to scream.
Demons.
Just the thought of them made my blood boil.
They’d taken everything I’d ever loved.
Everything that might’ve become precious.
They were butchers, monsters that fed on blood and ruin.
“Maybe I should just kill them all now.”
If I wiped out the scout team, maybe the main force would never come.
It wouldn’t be meaningless.
Nothing about killing demons ever was.
Kill them quickly, or slowly.
Or don’t kill them at all — just break them until they beg for death.
“Do I really need to play ‘instructor’ here? Can’t I just go back?”
Even now, I burned with the same rage as before.
So why had I wanted to leave the battlefield?
Was I truly tired — or just a coward trying to run?
No. I knew the answer now.
Even if I went back to a “normal” life, I’d never live like a normal man.
I couldn’t escape the past.
Not after what I’d seen.
“Then let’s go back.”
“Let’s finish this war.”
Kill every last demon, then leave.
The Empire’s War Ministry would welcome me back with open arms — they’d never wanted to let me go anyway.
Just as I reached that decision, a faint presence appeared behind me.
My body moved before thought.
Swish!
The axe in my hand split the air like lightning — and stopped just short of Uriel’s face.
If I hadn’t recognized her in that final instant, I might have—
“…Uriel?”
The axe hovered centimeters from her nose.
Too close. Far too close.
“W-When did you—”
“I, um… followed you. Your expression looked strange. The air around you felt… different. I called a few times, but you didn’t answer…”
She’d followed me all this way out of concern.
I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead.
Why didn’t she just go back to her room…?
But no — she wasn’t wrong.
The fault was mine.
I’d lost control.
Almost killed her.
She didn’t know it, but Uriel was special.
One of the few I had to save.
All the others — they’d just been steps leading to her.
I wanted to twist her fate — rewrite it.
Not a stepping stone for heroes, but the hero herself.
She deserved that.
“…Instructor.”
“Yeah.”
“Deus Instructor.”
“What now.”
“Your face. It still looks… wrong.”
She was right.
I’d nearly lost to the past.
But in that moment, something inside me clicked — like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.
I remembered why I’d left the battlefield.
Not because I was tired.
Because we couldn’t win.
We weren’t heroes — just soldiers pretending to be.
We couldn’t fulfill the promise of the fallen — to win the war.
So we’d made a second promise instead:
“Let’s live. Let’s try to live for real, this time.”
That’s why I left.
And that’s how I ended up here — trying to figure out what living even meant.
“…I’ve found my answer,” I said quietly.
Not as a wandering ghost of war, but as someone finally ready to live.
And, ironically, to end this cursed war for good.
My purpose was clear again.
My place, undeniable.
“I was going to test you the week after next,” I said, smirking.
“But next week it is.”
Because next week — the war would come to us.
I would forge the heroes who’d end it.
Uriel among them.
“Wha— that’s not fair! You said two weeks! I believed you!”
“Lesson one,” I said, smiling faintly.
“Never trust what someone says on the battlefield.”
“Liar!”
“It’s true.”
Poor kid. She’d learn soon enough.
“Ugh… fine. Just— please don’t go too hard on me, okay?”
“Alright.”
“Promise? Wait— did you just say alright?!”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“I won’t push you to the brink of death…”
A pause.
“The demons will do that for me.”
