Academy’s Barbarian

Humans killed a dragon.

A feat no one dared to imagine.

Carolus, who defeated the dragon Dabran, became the center of the world’s attention, and humanity, scattered across the globe in hopeless resistance, finally rejoiced at the birth of a savior.

The Libra Knights who served the goddess Astraea.

The Sun Priests who served Shaulite.

The Moon Hunters who served Menes.

The Harvesters of the Keres Church Order and the Holy Warriors of the Bølberg Church Order.

Knights who fought believing in and relying on the human god passed down through oral tradition began to unite under the fame of Carolus, the “Dragon Slayer,” and resist.

For decades, they marched forward, planting the flag of victory atop countless corpses.

The other races, who had exhausted their strength in racial wars, were forced to retreat to the corners of the continent, defeated by the power of humans they once considered prey.

—

“……”

Damien, who had drawn the Holy Sword, could only remember up to that point.

Perhaps he wasn’t allowed to see more. Or maybe there was no need to see what came after. Damien couldn’t tell.

There was only one thing Damien knew.

The voice of the goddess who had warned Carolus of his fate was now giving him the same warning.

A life far from peace. The duty to bear the fate of all humanity. Accepting that was the qualification to be recognized as the master of the Holy Sword.

“Can you bear it?” she asked.

A warning similar to Ha-shal-leur’s but heavier. No, more like a prophecy. It was as if she had seen the future and was speaking with certainty.

‘…Can I bear it?’

Damien closed his eyes and pondered for a long time, vividly recalling Carolus’s life as if he had lived it himself.

And then.

“Yes.”

Damien nodded.

“If becoming the master of this sword means I must bear the fate of everyone… then it means a disaster that will determine the fate of all is coming, just like 800 years ago. Whether I draw the sword or not, that won’t change.”

【…….】

No answer came. It was a silent affirmation.

“Then, I…”

Unlike Carolus, who, as his followers and protectors grew, replaced his desire for revenge with a sense of duty, Damien felt no such sense of duty to protect everyone.

But Damien thought.

He imagined the people in his mind meeting the same end as the countless ones Carolus had lost. Because he didn’t draw the sword, because he lacked the strength.

For some reason, just imagining it made his stomach churn and his fingertips grow cold.

Damien knew that feeling was disgust.

And so.

“…I will gain the power. The power to cut through the coming disaster, the power to refuse the repetition of what happened 800 years ago.”

Damien accepted something transmitted from the Holy Sword without resistance.

If he could erase the unpleasant possibilities in his mind, he could bear a life without peace or the responsibility of carrying all of humanity.

…Though he couldn’t have imagined that his arms and spine would be shattered the moment he woke up.

—

======[ Ha-shal-leur]======

Damien, holding me in what’s known as the “princess carry,” immediately soared into the sky, narrowly avoiding the falling rocks and escaping the collapsing canyon.

It was an extreme acrobatic flight where one wrong move could send us plummeting into the pile of rocks. To avoid such a disaster, I had no choice but to wrap my arms around Damien’s neck.

“Ghk…!”

Even the slightest pressure made Damien turn pale and let out dying groans, so I couldn’t grip his neck properly and had to lightly hook my fingers instead.

—

After safely escaping the canyon filled with falling rocks and avalanches, we began heading south toward the base of the mountain range.

We weren’t moving very fast.

If we had used Up-hwa and flown with wings, we could have reached the base that day, but neither Damien nor I had the strength left, so we had to walk down on foot.

That night, like any other, we had to make a cave to camp in and escape the cold.

Using the Rune of Collapse engraved on my regenerated left arm instead of the Rune of Fire, I created a large cave in an instant, big enough to fit over a dozen people.

There, Damien told me about the vision he saw when he drew the Holy Sword.

“So, you saw the memories of Emperor Carolus?”

“More like I experienced them… It felt like I became him.”

I didn’t know the Holy Sword had that function. Not very useful, though.

The untold history of Carolus, not even recorded in the Empire’s or the Church’s history books.

If Lacey had heard this, she might have accelerated her plan to exterminate the other races, but to me, it was just useless information.

If it had shown me something from thousands of years ago or the future, it might have been helpful, but knowing that the fairies of Alvheim, whom I thought were trash, were actually just food waste—what good is that to me?

I was going to destroy them anyway.

When I heard Ferne’s suggestion to enslave all the fairies or Lacey’s ambition to exterminate the other races and preserve only a few children in containment zones, I thought it was insane…

But now, I somewhat agreed with their opinions.

In the original work, the fairies were at least useful as meat shields against the monster hordes. But now, they’re nothing but tumors causing chaos in the world, offering no help.

They say the only good fairy is a beheaded fairy, and that seems about right.

They even tried to kill me outright, sending six Guardians.

That was practically a declaration of war against the Empire.

Since they remember the world from 800 years ago… they probably think it’s time to restore the “Glory of Alvheim,” seeing the Empire falter.

Well, with six Guardians gone in a single day, they won’t be acting rashly for a while.

—

After a good night’s sleep, some of my strength returned. Both the Power of Feats and the Life Force Technique.

In other words…

[Explain it…!]

Like a puppy flying toward Mars, just thinking about it made it hard to hold back laughter. The self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon lady, who had disappeared to some distant place with her dying words, had finally awakened.

[Why does that guy’s body smell so strongly of peaches? Why does his scent linger on my clothes…? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me…!]

I wasn’t exactly thrilled. She woke up and immediately started spouting nonsense.

It was obvious what misunderstanding she had.

[Even if it was an unbearable impulse, how dare you do it without my permission…!]

What are you talking about? It was unbearable for you, maybe.

‘What permission? Nothing happened. The smell on your clothes is from clinging to me while escaping the collapsing canyon.’

[Nothing happened…? That can’t be, there’s no way you could resist such stimulation…]

‘It was nothing. People don’t lose their minds over that kind of stimulation. We’re not some horny beasts.’

[You call that nothing…?]

Hersela’s voice trembled like an earthquake.

‘Oh, right, our Heavenly Demon fainted from just that, huh?’

I smirked, recalling her dying words. “Heeuung,” really. It’s still hilarious.

[Heeuung Heavenly Demon?! What did you just call me?!]

Of course, Hersela went ballistic. I couldn’t see her face, but she was probably blushing red. Her voice was filled with shame, confusion, and humiliation, not a hint of murderous intent.

‘It’s a cliché that Heavenly Demons are weak to lust… but even so, I didn’t expect you to faint from something so mild. What would you have done without me?’

[Heavenly Demons are weak to lust? Who dares spread such nonsense…!]

Uh… the people of the Republic of Korea?

I haven’t read it myself, but they say in martial arts novels, Heavenly Demons must be women, with pink, gold, or black hair, and their lower halves must be pink and third-rate.

And they must fall victim to aphrodisiacs or mountain air at least once.

There were also guys with flutes or pipas, but I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.

…Come to think of it, doesn’t that match Hersela’s traits?

Black hair. Female. Pink. Third-rate. Weak to aphrodisiacs.

That’s Hersela.

I see. She wasn’t a self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon but a true one.

I nodded in sudden realization and offered Hersela a word of encouragement.

‘I admit it. You’re a true Heavenly Demon.’

[What do you mean by that?! I’m not happy at all! Listen, a Heavenly Demon is…!]

Far from being pleased, Hersela flew into a rage and started ranting about how Heavenly Demons are invincible, divine, and perfect superhumans.

‘Ugh…! Huhu, Heeuung…!’

[Kuh…!]

Tired of listening, I mimicked her moans to shut her up.

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