DEMON KING'S Love Redemption

Chapter 8: Kael’s Challenge

The scent of overly peppered broth and rock-hard rye bread greeted Vann at the Aethelgard Academy dining hall. It wasn’t the food that ruined his appetite this morning, though; it was the suffocating silence that followed him past the long wooden tables. If the students had avoided him out of fear yesterday, today they treated him like a black hole, pulling away as if he might swallow their very existence at any moment.

"You know, Vann," Elric whispered, struggling to chew through his bread, "the girls have a new nickname for you. 'The Dark Prince of Catnapping.' They’re saying you staged the whole thing just to show off your forbidden magic in front of Lady Freya."

Vann let out a heavy sigh, setting his silver spoon down with a soft clink. The sound was enough to make three students at the next table bolt to their feet and hurry away. "I was just trying to help, Elric. It was honestly just mid-level gravity magic. The visualization was just... a bit out of hand."

"A bit? Vann, you left a three-foot crater in the central courtyard! Professor Mordred had to call in a magical construction crew to fix it overnight," Elric shook his head, then lowered his voice. "And check your two o'clock. It looks like our resident 'Sun King' is in a foul mood."

Vann glanced over slowly. At the far end of the hall sat Kael van Hestia, the eldest son of the Duke of Hestia—a family that had produced light knights for seven generations. Kael was the personification of everything Vann had loathed in his former life: arrogant, self-righteous, and possessing a smile that was far too bright for any mortal. This morning, Kael wasn't smiling. His dim gold eyes were fixed on Vann, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his ceremonial sword.

Right beside Kael, Freya sat with her usual grace, though her focus remained on the spellbook in front of her. She didn’t look at Vann, but her aura of vigilance was palpable, like fine needles prickling his skin.

"Vann of the lower class," Kael’s voice suddenly boomed, cutting through the dining hall chatter.

The entire hall went still. Hundreds of eyes turned toward Vann’s table. Kael stood up, his gold-embroidered white cloak fluttering dramatically as he stepped forward. Every stride was punctuated by the steady thud of his steel boots on the stone floor.

Vann stayed in his seat, trying to maintain his "innocent model student" facade. "Can I help you, Lord Kael?"

"Drop the act, you devious little warlock," Kael stopped right at Vann's table, exerting enough magical pressure to make Vann’s soup bowl rattle. "I saw what you did yesterday. You tried to intimidate Freya with your filth. You’re just showing off your power to scare the students into submission."

Vann knit his brows. "I was only saving a cat, my lord. And as for Lady Freya... I don't think she's easily intimidated. She’s more than capable of protecting herself."

At the mention of Freya’s name, Kael’s face turned a deep crimson. To him, Freya was a sacred figure, approachable only by those with the purity of light. "Don’t you dare speak her name with that sulfurous tongue of yours! You’re a disgrace to Aethelgard. I, Kael van Hestia, challenge you to a duel at the Open Arena this afternoon. If you lose, you’ll crawl out of this academy and promise never to show your face to Freya again."

Vann rubbed his temples. Another duel? Another challenge? Why was being a teenager so exhausting? In his first life, he would have decapitated Kael just for speaking to him in that tone. But now, he had to be the patient Vann.

"I decline," Vann said flatly. "Student duels require a valid reason under academy regulations. And I see no reason to fight you."

Kael sneered, pulling out a white glove and tossing it onto Vann’s table—an ancient symbol of a challenge that couldn't be ignored without forfeiting one’s honor. "Scared? Was your dark magic just a bluff to frighten cats? Fine. If you won't fight for yourself, fight for this."

Kael pointed toward Freya, who had stood and was walking toward them.

"Freya doesn’t need a protector like you, Kael," Freya said in her usual icy tone. However, she then looked at Vann, her gaze searching for something behind the boy’s dark eyes. "But Vann... if you truly have the power you showed yesterday, you need to prove you can control it. This duel could be the proof of whether you're a threat or just a clumsy student."

Vann was stunned. So you want to see me fight, Freya? Vann’s millenia-old heart gave a strange flutter. If Freya was asking, then refusal was no longer an option.

"Very well," Vann stood up, his voice dropping an octave as he inadvertently leaked a trace of his Demon King authority. "This afternoon, at the Open Arena. I’ll be there."

The Aethelgard Open Arena was packed with a sea of students. News of "The Mysterious Student" versus "The Genius of Light" had spread like wildfire. Even a few professors were spotted in the upper tiers, including Professor Mordred, who watched with a knowing smile hidden behind his beard.

Vann stood on one side of the arena in form-fitting black training gear. Across from him, Kael looked radiant in silver light-armor that shimmered in the sun. He held a wooden training sword reinforced with light magic, which emitted a warm yellow glow.

"The rules are simple," the referee shouted from center stage. "No lethal strikes. The duel ends if someone surrenders, is knocked out of bounds, or stays down for a ten-count. Begin!"

Vann took a long breath. The plan was simple: let Kael attack, pretend to be cornered, and then take a dive with enough style to make it look like he’d tried his best but lost to the hero of light. That way, Kael would be satisfied and Freya might find him less dangerous.

"Receive your purification, demon!" Kael roared. He lunged forward with incredible speed, his blade raised high as he cut through the air with a Light Dash.

Vann stood his ground. He intentionally avoided a defensive stance. Come on, Kael. Just clip my shoulder and I’ll roll away, Vann thought.

But as Kael’s blade of light closed in on Vann’s clothes, something beyond Vann’s control happened.

Zzzzt!

A thin film of dark purple, nearly invisible to the naked eye, flickered across Vann’s skin. It was the Abyssal Aegis—an automatic passive shield that was part of his Demon King soul. The shield didn't need to be summoned; it reacted instinctively to killing intent or any attack laced with mana.

Thud!

Kael’s sword slammed into the barrier. Instead of Vann being blown back, Kael felt as if he’d struck a solid concrete wall. The shockwave of the impact traveled back up his arm, sending him stumbling back several steps, his face twisted in shock.

Vann’s eyes widened. Crap! I forgot to turn off my soul’s auto-defense!

"What was that?" Kael muttered, staring at his trembling arm. "You... you used a shielding spell without an incantation?"

"That... that was just a reflex!" Vann cried out in a panic. "Come on, try again! I definitely won't be ready this time!"

Feeling insulted, Kael flew into a rage. "Don't you look down on me!"

Kael began chanting a high-level spell. "O Punishing Light, descend and shatter the darkness! Judgment Arrows!"

Above Kael’s head, a dozen arrows of brilliant light manifested. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them screaming toward Vann from every possible angle. The crowd erupted in cheers, captivated by the sheer elegance of the magic.

Vann scrambled to get out of the way, deliberately making his movements look clumsy and uncoordinated. "Oh no! I'm going to get hit!" he shouted, though his acting was, quite frankly, terrible.

But not a single light arrow touched the ground. The moment they came within ten centimeters of Vann's body, they hit what seemed to be an invisible energy field. Instead of detonating, the arrows simply reversed course—a passive reflection—and hurtled back toward Kael at twice their original speed.

"What the hell?!" Kael was forced to dive and roll across the arena floor to dodge his own attack. Several of his light arrows exploded behind him, shattering the arena’s perimeter wall.

Vann stood there awkwardly, his hand still half-raised. "Kael! Are you okay? I'm so sorry, it seems the wind isn't being very cooperative today!"

"Shut your mouth!" Kael snarled as he pushed himself up, his face flushed deep red with humiliation. He could already hear the whispers rippling through the stands. To the spectators, Kael looked like a complete fool who had managed to attack himself, while Vann just stood there casually without casting a single spell.

Freya, watching from the front row, narrowed her eyes. She hadn't seen Vann chant. She hadn't seen any mana being channeled. Yet, every one of Kael’s attacks seemed to be rejected by the world itself as they drew near Vann. That wasn't just a standard protective spell, Freya thought. That was Authority. He wasn't defending... he was simply refusing the attack.

Kael had completely lost his mind. He poured every ounce of his mana into his sword. The wooden practice blade began to splinter, unable to contain the massive surge of light energy. "I'm going to break that arrogance of yours, Vann! Sun Burst Strike!"

Kael leaped high into the air, bringing his sword down toward Vann's head with everything he had. It was the kind of strike that had no place in a practice duel.

Vann knew that if he let his passive shield take the full brunt of this, Kael might actually die from the reflected force. He had to do something. He had to "lose" right now.

Vann decided to forcibly deactivate his passive shield by shunting all his mana into his own feet. However, because he did it so suddenly and haphazardly, it created a violent energy imbalance within his body.

The moment Kael's sword made contact, Vann threw himself backward. "Whoa! I lose!" he cried out.

BOOOMM!

A blinding explosion of light engulfed the arena. Dust billowed into the air, and the audience fell into a heavy silence, waiting for the results to settle.

As the haze cleared, Kael was seen standing there, gasping for air, his sword reduced to splinters. Vann was lying on the ground about five meters away.

"Ha... ha... finally," Kael managed a smug grin, even though his hands were bleeding from the feedback of his own mana.

But that smile vanished the moment Vann hopped back onto his feet with ease. Vann didn't have a single scratch on him. His clothes weren't even stained with dust. The only thing Vann was doing was patting down his trousers as if brushing off some non-existent speck of dirt.

"Ah, what a magnificent strike, Lord Kael," Vann said, trying his best to sound sincere, but it came off as incredibly patronizing. "I really took a tumble there. So, I suppose you're the winner, right?"

Kael stared at Vann, his eyes wide with fury. "Are you... are you mocking me? You fell on purpose! You didn't even flinch when my attack hit you!"

"No, no! I was genuinely terrified! My heart is pounding, I swear!" Vann placed a hand over his chest, trying to look convincing.

The audience, however, was reacting quite differently.

"Look at Vann, he hasn't even broken a sweat."

"Kael used his ultimate move and Vann just faked a fall?"

"He's so powerful he doesn't even see Kael as an opponent. That's some terrifying intimidation right there!"

Kael let out a frustrated scream, "VANN! FIGHT ME SERIOUSLY OR I'LL—"

"Enough!"

Freya leaped into the center of the arena, positioning herself between the two. Her blue eyes locked onto Vann with an intensity that made his skin crawl.

"This duel is over," Freya declared firmly. She turned to Kael. "Kael, stop this. You lost the moment you lost control of your emotions. And Vann..."

Freya stepped closer to Vann, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him. "Stop acting like a fool. You're mocking him, you're mocking this academy, and you're mocking me with that cheap performance. If you possess that kind of power, stop hiding behind the mask of a failing student."

Vann was stunned. "Freya, I only wanted..."

"I don't care what you wanted," Freya cut him off. "But mark my words: at the academy tournament next month, if we face each other, I won't let you 'lose on purpose.' I will force you to drag out every single drop of that darkness you're hiding."

Freya walked away, leaving the arena thick with tension. Kael collapsed to his knees, his pride shattered because Freya had chosen to defend Vann's "fighting honor" instead of his own.

Vann stood alone in the center of the arena, watching Freya’s retreating figure. He let out a long sigh and frustratedly ran a hand through his black hair.

"My plan to lose gracefully... was a total disaster," Vann muttered.

Suddenly, he felt a piercing gaze from the very top of the stands. Professor Mordred was standing there, offering a silent round of applause with a grin wider than ever. Beside him stood a middle-aged man in the white robes of the church—a Holy Inquisitor.

"That's him," Mordred whispered to the Inquisitor. "The boy who 'rejects' the light without even trying."

Vann realized something terrifying. By trying to play weak, he had inadvertently shown the academy's higher-ups something much more frightening: an unwavering, limitless power.

That night, when Vann returned to his dorm, he found an anonymous letter slid under his door.

The Demon King cannot hide in a sheep's pen forever. The time is drawing near.

Vann crumpled the letter until it dissolved into black ash in his palm. He knew that the peace he sought in this second life was nothing more than an illusion. Fate was dragging him onto a much larger stage, and this time, his enemy wasn't just Kael or the professors—it was Freya's burgeoning suspicion.

"If I have to be a monster to keep your eyes on me," Vann whispered into the darkness of his room, "then let this world bear witness to the monster that loves you the most."

Outside the window, a storm began to brew over Aethelgard, a sign that Kael’s challenge was merely the beginning of the tremors that would shatter the academy's false peace. And in the darkness, Vann's eyes flashed red for a fleeting moment—a sign that the Demon King was losing patience with the charade he had created.