The sky above Pandemonium Castle was no longer a void of black, but a searing, violent crimson, as if the heavens themselves were bleeding out. The stench of sulfur and rusted iron choked the air, mingling with the copper tang of the thousands of lives that had been extinguished beneath the tower. Amidst the shattered remains of a throne reduced to splinters, Vann—the most formidable Demon King in human history—was down on one knee.His breathing was heavy and ragged, echoing inside a suit of black armor that was spider-webbed with cracks. A thick, dark purple fluid—the pure blood of a demon—dripped from the corner of his mouth, staining the cold marble floor. Standing before him was a woman in silver plate that shimmered in the firelight. Her long blonde hair whipped about in the gale tearing through the hall’s ruined roof.The woman was Freya, the Holy Hero. Her eyes, a blue as deep as the ocean, usually held a calm serenity, but now they burned with pure hatred and an unwavering re

Morning light filtered through the tall windows of the main corridor at Aethelgard Academy, reflecting off marble floors polished to a mirror-like sheen. The scent of cinnamon from the dining hall still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly extinguished magical candles. To any other student, this was just the start of another dull day in Mana Theory 101. But for Vann, every step down this hallway felt like walking a razor-thin tightrope over a bottomless abyss.Vann adjusted his uniform collar, which felt a bit too tight. A phantom scar on his chest—right where Freya’s sword had once pierced his heart—seemed to throb every time he took too deep a breath. He tried to ignore the whispers surrounding him. Last night’s incident, the "black fire" explosion in his room, had spread faster than a plague. Students passing him instinctively pulled away, clearing a path as if he were a harbinger of doom."Don’t be so tense, buddy. You look like a man walking to the gallow

The crystalline dust from the Orb of Aethel, shattered just two days prior, seemed to still hang in the air—at least, that was how it felt to Vann. Although he was no longer confined to the watchtower following a grueling, exhaustive interrogation by the Council of Masters, his status had been utterly transformed. He was no longer merely the "quiet, unremarkable student." Now, he was "Vann the Jinx" or, more dramatically, "Vann the Vessel of Darkness."This morning, the main corridors of Aethelgard Academy felt colder than usual. Vann walked down the hall, clutching his Basic Light Theory textbook tightly to his chest. He tried to fix his expression into something approachable—a difficult feat given his sharp, icy features, a lingering inheritance from the Demon King who had reigned for centuries."Stop staring at your feet, buddy. You look like a thief caught red-handed," whispered Elric, who had somehow found the courage to keep walking beside him. Elric was the only person who hadn

The midday sun beat down on the central courtyard of Aethelgard Academy with an intensity that felt almost personal, as if the fireball in the sky were leaning in to witness whatever fresh drama Vann was about to cook up. Following the disaster in Magical Ethics that had left half the class psychologically scarred, Vann realized his reputation had hit rock bottom. He needed to do something. Something simple, cliché, and undeniably "heroic.""I need a good deed that can’t possibly be misconstrued as a genocidal threat," Vann muttered to himself as he trudged along a path lined with lavender and rosemary."Talking to yourself again, Vann? That’s a surefire sign of someone about to perform a demonic summoning," Elric chimed in from two paces behind, maintaining a cautious distance as if Vann were a ticking time bomb.Vann let out a heavy sigh, ignoring his friend’s jab as he scanned the gardens. In his past life, he would have reduced this entire place to ash with a snap of his fingers.

The sun sat heavy at its zenith, baking the stone floor of the Aethelgard Open Arena. Heat distortion shimmered above the ground, thick with the sharp tang of ozone left over from the magical energies unleashed since the duel began. Thousands of eyes from the stands were locked onto the center of the field, barely daring to blink. The silence was so profound that the rustle of the academy banners sounded like the sighs of a giant waiting for a tragedy to unfold.Vann stood on the northern edge of the arena, carefully pacing his breath to sound ragged and labored. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead, though his body hadn't even begun to truly warm up. In his mind, he repeated a private mantra over and over: Be weak. Be a loser. Don't give him any reason to be suspicious."Why do you keep dodging, you gutter rat?!" Kael roared from across the field.Kael van Hestia looked like a wrathful god of war. His silver armor was now etched with fine scuffs from swirling dust, and his hands