DEMON KING'S Love Redemption

Chapter 12 The Secret Book of Darkness 2

Vann offered a faint smile, one that actually didn't look menacing for once. "Because I want you to feel safe around me, Freya. If you feel I’m a threat, at least now you know how to 'tame' me. I don’t want any more swords between us."

Freya was stunned. She turned her face away, trying to hide the blush creeping up to her ears. "Don't talk nonsense. I’m doing this for the safety of the academy. If you ever lose control, I won't hesitate to use these 'weapons' on you."

"I look forward to it," Vann teased.

Suddenly, a rumbling sound echoed from the corridor above. The hidden door that had been tightly sealed swung open, spilling light from the library’s magic lamps into the basement. The sound of frantic footsteps hurried closer.

"Vann! Freya! Where are you?!"

Professor Mordred’s voice drifted toward them, sounding both anxious and intensely curious.

"We have to go," Freya whispered, hurriedly tucking her notes beneath the folds of her cloak. "If they realize we discovered this chamber, they might confiscate these books."

Vann nodded in agreement. Before they made their exit, he cast one final glance at the book of prophecy resting upon the altar. With a flick of his fingers, he released a spark of black flame—searingly hot yet devoid of smoke. In an instant, the book foretelling Freya's death was reduced to ash, ensuring that no one else—be they god or demon—could use that prophecy to manipulate them.

They sprinted up the stone stairs, emerging just as Mordred reached the Forbidden Sector. The professor’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the shifting bookshelf.

"What were you doing down there?" Mordred demanded, his gaze shifting from Vann’s composed demeanor to Freya’s visible nerves.

"We stumbled upon a secret passage by accident while we were tidying the books, Professor," Vann replied, his voice flat and unreadable. "It appears to be nothing more than an old, abandoned cellar. There was nothing of interest down there—just dust and a few rotting scrolls."

Mordred stepped past them, venturing into the passage for a moment before returning with an expression that was difficult to decipher. "An old cellar, you say? Very well. For now, I shall take you at your word. However, remember that your punishment concludes today. Tomorrow, you are both expected to return to your regular training schedules. And Vann... do try to avoid destroying any more of the facilities."

Vann bowed respectfully. "I shall do my best, Professor."

Once Mordred had departed, Freya and Vann walked side by side out of the library. The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon, painting the sky over Aethelgard in breathtaking shades of violet and crimson. A cool evening breeze brushed against their faces, carrying the scent of pine from the surrounding forests.

Freya paused at the fork in the path leading to the male and female dormitories. She tightened her grip on her cloak pocket, where the notes on "demon weaknesses" were hidden.

"Vann," she called out softly.

Vann stopped and turned back. "Yes?"

"About what you said back there in the library... about remembering my face until the day you die..." Freya trailed off, unable to meet his eyes. "Don't say things like that anymore. It sounds incredibly creepy."

Vann let out a low chuckle, the deep sound echoing through the now-quiet corridor. "Fair enough, Miss Hero. I’ll find another way to compliment you that doesn't sound like a threat."

"And one more thing," Freya added, fixing him with a sharp look. "If I find out you were lying to me about that roast lamb and honey cake, I’ll make sure your next punishment is cleaning the dragon pens entirely by yourself!"

Vann simply offered a wave as Freya turned and ran toward her dormitory. He stood there for a long moment, watching her until she disappeared around the corner. The smile on his face slowly faded, replaced by a cold, serious expression.

He touched his chest, right where his heart was still racing from the lingering dark energy of the prophecy book. Vann knew that the "Secret Book of Darkness" hadn't appeared by chance. Someone at this academy had intentionally lured them there—someone who wanted Vann to realize his true nature and wanted Freya to feel hunted.

"You want us to kill each other?" Vann muttered into the shadows of the night. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but your plan is going to end with a very lovely dinner."

Vann headed toward his quarters, but his mind was already miles away. He began plotting how he might "accidentally" pass by the cafeteria tomorrow morning just as the aroma of roast lamb began to waft through the air. He wanted to see if Freya would actually try to use her new "weapon" against him.

Yet, beneath his playful thoughts, Vann recognized something far more profound. Back in that basement, when they had touched, their mana hadn't clashed. Freya’s light and his darkness had achieved a rare, singular harmony.

Perhaps, Vann thought, the destiny forged by the gods wasn't the only path. If light and darkness could touch without annihilation, then maybe a future with her was actually possible.

That night, Vann didn't sleep. He sat at his desk, scribbling on a small piece of parchment. It wasn't a dark incantation, but rather the best recipe for honey cake he had ever tasted in his past life—one he planned to "drop" accidentally outside Freya’s room one day.

Meanwhile, in the women's dormitory, Freya sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her notes regarding roast lamb and cinnamon milk. She sighed, frustrated by her own conflicting emotions. She was supposed to hate Vann. She was supposed to be on guard. Yet, every time she thought of him, she didn't feel the righteous fury of a hero facing a demon; instead, she felt a profound curiosity—and perhaps a flicker of warmth she wasn't yet brave enough to admit.

"A demon with a weakness for honey cake..." Freya murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "How ridiculous."

Drew to a close with the silence of the night falling over Aethelgard, but beneath that stillness, the wheels of fate had begun to turn. The Secret Book of Darkness had been opened, and though its contents were steeped in malice, Vann had managed to turn it into a bridge—even if that bridge was built of roast lamb and warm milk.

However, Vann was unaware that in the Headmaster’s office, Professor Mordred stood before an enchanted mirror, communicating with a mysterious figure shrouded in black mist.

"They found the room," Mordred reported.

"Excellent," the voice from the mirror replied, cold and rasping. "Let the seeds of doubt take root. Soon enough, the Demon King will realize that love is the strongest shackle of all—the one that will ultimately destroy him."