Demon King’s Academy

✦ Chapter 9 ✦

「Translator – Creator」

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚  ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

A peculiar atmosphere hung over Class-A after Louis’ first lesson yesterday.

When Louis had first declared—

— I’ll grant rights to the victors. Do anything you wish to the losers. Except killing, that is.

Honestly, those words didn’t fully resonate at first.

Most of the students in Class-A were from high-ranking noble families.

Even if they weren’t from the Kingdom of Franz, the heirs of noble families from all over the continent were gathered here.

Though they had come to Terran, which could be seen as being cast out from their families, they were still nobles.

And yet.

‘Among academy graduates, those chosen as Heroes can be counted on one’s fingers.’

Many academies never raised a single Hero, and even in Terran’s golden age, they only raised about ten Heroes annually.

And currently, the Imperial Royal Academy, Polische, hailed as the continent’s finest, was known to produce seven Heroes.

So what became of the rest?

Students could, of course, pursue their dreams of becoming Heroes after graduation by enrolling in another academy or finding other paths.

But typically—

‘They abandon the dream of becoming Heroes and return to their houses.’

Those trained as Heroes at the academy would instead serve as talented individuals in their respective houses and kingdoms.

The bonds forged at the academy held immense importance then.

Being academy classmates often created ties as thick as blood, with mutual support and advancement.

Thus, academy students concerned themselves not only with hero training but also politics.

This held true even at Terran.

“Mad Dog!”

“What…”

“Bring water!”

“Why should I—”

As Roberto ground his teeth—

*THUD—!*

Erna’s fist buried itself in Roberto’s stomach.

“Guhk!”

Roberto’s eyes blazed with pain and fury.

Though he seemed unwilling to back down, his fists clenched…

“Bring. It. Now.”

When Erna spoke each syllable distinctly, his fist unclenched.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“F—”

Erna moved closer, pressing her face to his and said—

“Shouldn’t you be saying ‘I understand’?”

“……”

“Should I say it again?”

“I… understand.”

The infamous Mad Dog.

Roberto, who despite his youth had beaten siblings far older than himself and even struck his family’s knights, turned away with bowed head.

“………….”

The sight shocked even Class-A’s students.

“Hmph.”

If there was any consolation, it was that Erna wasn’t exercising her victor’s rights over anyone except Roberto.

She appeared intent on devoting all her rights to tormenting Roberto alone.

And the reason why Roberto, the Mad Dog known for his rage issues, now obeyed Erna’s commands was—

“Neeeeeigh!”

—because of Rato, who lay on all fours against the wall, weeping mournfully.

“Can’t you make it stop crying?”

When Erna directed this question to Tomejo.

“Well…”

Tomejo answered with flushed face and bowed head.

“It must cry three times every hour. Apparently that’s how horses from the Lands of Chaos are…”

“Is that so?”

“Yes…”

Erna smirked.

“Serves him right. Should’ve chosen his opponents more carefully.”

Rato Multipa, who had stormed the faculty office yesterday throwing a tantrum.

His transgressions finally caught headmaster Louis’ attention.

— Since you seem unable to grasp my words, I’ll demonstrate directly.

With those words, Louis cast a day-long spell of obedience on Rato.

— Be Tomejo’s horse for a day. You need to learn how to serve your master.

And thus, Rato had been reduced to this state.

Though Tomejo found the situation overwhelmingly uncomfortable—

“…At least cry quietly.”

“Neeeigh…”

He lacked the courage to defy an act carried out by the Demon King headmaster himself. Besides, that other presence within Tomejo seemed greatly satisfied with the situation.

This explained it all.

“Here’s… your water.”

The reason Roberto brought water for Erna.

Why he suppressed even his rage to perform such tasks?

Why he endured despite the throbbing veins at his temples and his trembling body?

“I suppose you’d rather not become a dog?”

It was because of Louis’ subsequent words.

— If another one defies my instructions, perhaps I should make them a dog next.

Everyone had already witnessed that these weren’t mere words.

Even for Roberto, called the Mad Dog…

“Perhaps laying newspapers by the wall to urinate on?”

How could one born noble endure such humiliation?

“Or maybe barking? Mad Dog. This water seems a bit cold?”

“I’ll fetch it again…”

Roberto moved without protest.

“Neeeeeigh!”

Just then, Rato wailed once more.

“Is it crying time already?”

Erna asked with apparent annoyance.

“No, I think he’s just sad…”

Tomejo answered.

Without doubt, it was a scene that threatened to drive anyone mad.

☩

Today, the students of Class-A were in surprisingly good spirits.

This was because the class schedule distributed earlier didn’t include their homeroom teacher’s lesson — a welcome relief.

Instead, they heard their teacher would handle several third-year classes, but that was hardly their concern.

Today brought different lessons.

“…………”

Everyone’s eyes burned with fierce determination.

This time, the right of the victor granted by Louis.

— We’ll have another test in a month.

And with it, another bestowal of victor’s rights.

“No matter what…”

Roberto muttered while watching Erna carefully.

Fortunately, she hadn’t heard—

“Bring water.”

“I… understand…”

Roberto trudged away, face crumpling.

“Run!”

*Pat-pat-pat!*

In order to thoroughly use the right of the victor in a month’s time — or perhaps to avoid showing any humiliating behavior under its influence — the students of Class-A all wanted to win the next test for various reasons.

“………..”

This was also true for Chris.

Though he didn’t plan to use the right of the victor, he couldn’t help but feel the harsh stares directed at him.

If, a month from now, he ended up as the loser…

“Ugh…”

He could imagine the horrors that awaited him.

He wasn’t confident in himself, but at least, he thought, it would be pointless to give up without trying.

So Chris believed.

That’s why today’s lesson held such importance.

“That… lesson?”

A class whose true nature remained shrouded in mystery.

“I heard the second-years had it once.”

“What did they say?”

“Nothing much… they didn’t say a word.”

“Of course those bastards wouldn’t tell us.”

Students whispered about the approaching lesson.

“Rato’s the one who’s into politics, so he might know something…”

The students’ gazes turned toward Rato, who was at one end of the sword training grounds.

“Neeeeeigh!”

Rato, curled up on all fours, wailed mournfully, as though he had forgotten how to speak human words.

Seeing him, the students shook their heads.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to try it ourselves.”

Currently, Class-A had gathered not in their classroom but rather in the sword training hall behind the Terran Academy; the facility’s decrepit state might have suggested Terran’s long history, but in truth it merely reflected neglect rather than heritage.

In swordplay, where footwork proved crucial, one misstep on these grounds could mean a stumble, and if one fell wrong—

“……..”

—a protruding stone edge might pierce flesh and gut.

Such was the deplorable state of the sword training grounds, though undeniably spacious.

Indeed.

The lesson Class-A now awaited—

*Rattle—, Rattle—*

Terran’s new instructor.

*Rattle—*

One of the two skeletons, Kindeman’s lesson.

*Gulp—*

Students swallowed hard, tense eyes fixed upon the skeleton before them.

— It’s true! I swear it’s true!

The hero-obsessed Orca had proclaimed it with such fervor—surely this skeleton must be the Great Swordsman Kindeman. He who once accomplished everything with a single blade, who had brought the Orc Kingdom to ruin.

And with that same blade…

— The Demon King.

The Great Swordsman who had hunted the Demon King.

Only those who had slain Demon Kings could earn the title of ‘Great’ among Heroes.

And Kindeman’s swordsmanship was legendary, even among the heroes.

— Unrestricted.

Without form.

— Formless.

Without technique.

— Limitless.

Said to know no bounds.

Every swordsman had knelt before Kindeman, his blade striking awe in all — until his disappearance into the Lands of Chaos.

“…………”

So their tension and excitement felt justified.

Though Kindeman stood before them as a skeleton, if his essence truly dwelled within—

‘Worth learning from.’

Anything might be possible.

*Creak—, Creak—*

The Kindeman skeleton shifted about, scattering crimson light from its eye sockets; movements so languid they induced yawns.

*Rattle—, Rattle—*

He adjusted his stance while fondling his skull.

“Heh.”

If anyone didn’t find that scene ridiculous, they were lying.

The students couldn’t hold it in anymore—

“Puhahaha!”

They burst into laughter.

But then—

*Tap—!*

A soft impact rang out from someone’s shoulder.

At the same time—

*Thud—!*

The sound of knees hitting ground and—

“AAAAAAAGH!”

A heart-rending scream pierced the air.

Everyone turned their gaze to the source of the scream.

The one who screamed — one of the students who had mocked Kindeman.

And before him stood Kindeman.

He had removed one of his own ribs and now pressed it against the student’s shoulder.

“Huuuuuuugh!”

Though the sound of impact had seemed slight—

“Guhhhhhhhh!”

The struck student wailed as if his entire family had perished before his eyes.

Now the students stared at his shoulder.

“…………”

A shoulder that bore no visible wound, no sign of impact.

“Did anyone… see it?”

Though someone asked if anyone had witnessed what transpired—

“………..”

No answer came.

Only then did the realization truly sink in for the students.

“It really is him.”

That this was indeed Kindeman.

That even as a lowest-rank skeleton, he possessed genuine skill.

And…

*Creak—, Creak—*

That he had no intention whatsoever of going easy on them.

Kindeman raised one skeletal arm.

*Creak—, Creak—*

His bony index finger moved, sweeping across the assembled students.

Then—

*Click—*

He curled that finger joint in a beckoning motion.

*Creak—, Creak—*

Again, and again.

Calige was the first to grasp the meaning.

“Looks like he wants all of us to come at him.”

As his voice echoed—

*Rattle—, Rattle—*

Kindeman’s skull bobbed up and down as if confirming Calige’s interpretation; his arm bones moved once more.

“That means…”

Once again, Calige was first to decode the gesture.

“Seems he’s saying if we don’t come to him, he’ll come to us?”

*Rattle—, Rattle—*

Another nod confirming Calige’s words.

“Did you study some undead language or something?”

“Language? It’s just body language.”

Though they exchanged jokes, tension crystallized in the students’ eyes.

After all, they’d just witnessed what happened to one of their own.

“Last lesson had us fight each other. This time, we’re fighting the teacher.”

Erna was the first to move.

END σϝ CHAPTER

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