SRS 25

“Hmm, yes, I’m a demon. And you must be… Yohan Herse?”

“…You know me?”

Hearing his name from a stranger’s mouth made Yohan wary. The man chuckled softly, apparently amused by his caution.

“You’re famous. The new student who took down a hydra and ranked first in your class. Even among the older students, the story’s all over. They say you defeated the hydra everyone struggled with in a single strike.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Was that wrong?”

“No, it’s just…”

Yohan frowned slightly. Technically, it wasn’t wrong, but that version of the story sounded terribly distorted.

From that description alone, it sounded like he had defeated the hydra through sheer power. But in reality, it was a humiliating incident, he’d lost control of the descent, drained his blood and divine power, and fainted afterward.

While Yohan stood flustered, the black-haired man snapped his fingers. The harpoon that had missed them a moment ago turned in the air and flew back into his hand.

Magic?

The display was so graceful that the students couldn’t help but admire it. The man clasped the harpoon, then bowed politely to the three of them again.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for the trouble. Are you hurt?”

“Ah? Oh, no… we’re fine.”

“That’s a relief. If any aftereffects show up, come to the east dormitory gate for third-years and ask the dorm supervisor for Abel Serdium. I’ll take care of it. Now then, I’ll be off.”

He bowed once more, his third apology, and started to descend. Realizing he might vanish any second, Yohan hurriedly grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait!”

The man turned, slightly confused. Meeting the transparent violet eyes, Yohan spoke carefully.

“…Do you happen to know where the headmaster’s office is? We need to visit before first period ends, and I was hoping you might know the fastest route.”

Because of the interruption, time was slipping away, and it was uncertain whether they could make it before the deadline. Judging by the man’s manner, he was clearly an upperclassman of Fantasiademia, so he had to know. Since his team had caused the delay, he might be willing to help.

The man’s violet eyes widened slightly.

“New students going in for a report already? That’s early.”

“Report?”

“Ah, so you haven’t been told yet.”

He smiled briefly at their confusion, hummed softly, then nodded.

“All right. I’ll guide you to the headmaster’s office. It’s our fault for getting in your way, after all.”

He agreed readily, saying he’d return the harpoon first and asked them to wait. After dropping out of sight, he soon ascended back, hovering before them again without a trace of hesitation.

“About 45 minutes left until first period ends. Considering how long the report might take, we should hurry. The route’s rough, but follow me closely. I’ll take you through a shortcut.”

After that quick explanation, he took off. Yohan watched, astonished by both his speed of his flight.

He’d noticed it earlier, but the man’s flight magic was incredible. It was nearly on par with the griffins that Yohan, Suhyeok, and Seiga rode, or maybe even faster when he pushed himself.

Even more impressive, the man showed no sign of strain despite using such advanced magic.

So this was what third-year students of Fantasiademia were capable of?

From what he’d heard from friends, demons or those connected to them excelled at magic. He didn’t have to look far for proof, the vice headmaster himself appeared, disappeared, and sent notices all through magic. Since this man was also a demon, Yohan had expected him to be skilled, but this was beyond what he’d imagined.

The upperclassman, who had introduced himself as Abel, led the way while effortlessly deflecting strange projectiles that flew at them from all directions.

“Excuse me,” Yohan called out, startled again as another attack whizzed past. “What are those attacks?”

Abel answered calmly.

“Third-years practicing for a magic assignment. This week’s task is to perfect a projectile spell that must hit a designated target at least once. They’re all working hard, but the illusions scattered around Fantasiademia distort their magic circuits, so mistakes are common.”

“The illusions distort the circuits?”

“Haven’t your mage friends mentioned it? …Ah, right, the new students zone’s still sealed. You’ll understand once the protective barrier is lifted.”

“Barrier?”

Apparently, upperclassmen really did live in another world. Every time Abel spoke, Yohan found himself asking another question, feeling like a parrot repeating words. His ears grew warm with embarrassment, but he knew better than to stop. Information was precious here, and shameless curiosity was a virtue.

Abel nodded.

“To protect first-years, the headmaster sets up a barrier over the first-year area during the first semester. It shields you from most of Fantasiademia’s illusions. The upperclassmen don’t have that protection, though. Once you use your abilities in a place where the barrier’s gone, you’ll understand what I mean.”

Yohan looked down at his own hand. Abel noticed and added with a smile.

“But don’t try it now. I don’t have time to clean up if a new student causes an accident.”

“Ah, right.”

Yohan’s ears grew warm, realizing his thoughts must’ve been obvious. Feeling a bit foolish, he lowered his gaze, cheeks slightly red.

“From here on, we’re entering a dangerous zone, so stay focused and keep up. I’ll increase speed.”

Abel added that there wouldn’t be time for explanations anymore, then accelerated. Yohan and his friends matched his pace, urging their griffins forward and bracing against the cutting wind.

–Kieeeek!

A moment later, two monstrous birds emerged from the clouds and dove toward them.

Boom!

Abel drew a staff from his robe and swung it. In an instant, the creatures exploded into fragments of light.

“……!”

“They’re illusions. No need to panic. However, even illusions can cause real harm if they hit you, so stay alert.”

Flash!

As soon as he finished speaking, lightning crackled across the sky, forming the shape of a colossal human shadow. It raised its arm and hurled a bolt at them.

Crash!

Abel swung his staff again, batting the lightning aside. A moment later, his own counterspell surged forward, lightning flared from his staff and struck the shadow directly.

Crackle!

The flash burst, erasing the massive phantom. But there was no time to rest.

As they flew, Yohan and his friends were repeatedly attacked by giants throwing boulders, birds spitting axes, and pegasuses lunging out of the mist. Abel never faltered. Each time, he drove the illusions away with precise spells, though even he began to tire. Sometimes he only destroyed the illusion’s core and told them to handle the rest themselves.

“Ahh!”

Whenever that happened, Yohan and his friends had to pull off wild stunts with their griffins, screaming until their throats were parched. Their breathing turned ragged and heavy.

“Huff, huff…”

Then Abel, still perfectly calm while the three new students were a mess of soot and torn sleeves, spotted something ahead and spoke.

“Ah, we’re here.”

The headmaster’s office was located inside a tall building with a pointed roof. It looked like a clock tower from Yohan’s home world, which made him feel a strange comfort.

“You can leave your griffins here.”

Hovering in midair, Abel guided them down to a terrace just below the clock tower’s peak. Finally arriving, Yohan and his friends dismounted and collapsed almost immediately, their bodies drained.

“Ha…”

Heavy breaths escaped all three of them. Seeing their melted, cheese-like state, Abel laughed softly.

“Tired?”

“……”

They were too exhausted to respond. Yohan barely managed to squeeze out a hoarse “Thank you” and bowed.

“It was only what I should’ve done. No thanks needed. The headmaster’s office is two floors below. Let’s say this settles my earlier mistake. See you next time.”

He tucked away his staff and disappeared. The speed at which he moved was nothing like when he’d been flying alongside them, and Yohan stared in awe.

“He’s unbelievably fast… I guess he really was slowing down for us.”

As Yohan brushed off his clothes and stood, his friends looked up at him with hesitant faces, obviously wanting to say something but struggling to start.

“What?”

“…Yohan, you sure were comfortable talking to that senior.”

“What do you mean?”

Suhyeok spoke awkwardly, while Yohan blinked, not understanding. When Yohan remained quiet, Suhyeok sighed, patted his griffin’s neck, and explained.

“The energy emanating from him was terrifying. Heavy, cold… maybe it’s because he’s a demon? Even our griffins were scared out of their minds. You didn’t notice?”

“What?”

Really?

Yohan had been too busy dodging attacks and searching for the building to notice. Startled, he hurried to check on his griffin. Seeing his concern, the creature whimpered softly, pressing close like a child. It was uncharacteristic behavior, maybe the trip really had been too much.

But the other two griffins looked even worse. Pale and weak, they stood on trembling legs. Yohan sighed.

“…I honestly didn’t know.”

“Yes, you looked like you didn’t.”

Suhyeok replied calmly.

“I thought I was going to die! The whole way here, that energy felt murderous. I was convinced he was leading us straight to hell instead of the headmaster’s office!”

Seiga’s voice cracked as she complained miserably. Still sitting on the floor, she looked on the verge of tears. Suhyeok reached out to console her.

“Well, technically this place is kind of a land of the dead. So cheer up, Seiga, you’re already on your way to hell.”

“……”

Seiga’s eyes turned cold. Yohan alternatively look at them, worried. Suhyeok had said Abel’s aura was terrifying, but now he couldn’t seem to sense the murderous intent in Seiga’s glare.

Expressionless, Yohan silently traced the holy sign for Suhyeok’s peaceful passing. And right after that…

“Arghhhh!”

Seiga lunged and bit down on Suhyeok’s hand with a ferocity that echoed through the tower.

Her scream, and his, rang across the spire.

Fortunately, in Fantasiademia, such noises were an everyday occurrence, so no one was startled enough to climb the tower and check.