After leaving the throne room, Cassian returned to his chambers and began preparing to leave the Demon Realm. He wasn't going to depend on others to retrieve the Holy Sword.
A wise man once said, if you want something done right, do it yourself. Rely on others, and you invite trouble.
Cassian had no intention of inviting trouble.
"No way in hell," he muttered, gathering what he needed with steady, precise movements. "I'll go myself, find that damn sword, and get rid of it."
The plan was simple.
He would enter the human city quietly, take the Holy Sword before anyone noticed, and erase it from the world without leaving a trace.
What happened after didn't matter.
A volcano, the depths of the ocean—anywhere no one could reach. As long as it disappeared for good, that was enough. Without it, the hero would never gain that convenient power, and everything tied to it would fall apart before it even began.
Before leaving, he sat down, pulled out a sheet, and exhaled once to steady his thoughts.
"Alright…" he muttered.
First—get the Holy Sword. Nothing else mattered until that was done.
Second—avoid the hero. Getting anywhere near him would only attract attention, and worse, it might draw the gaze of that goddess. The last thing he needed was divine interference complicating something that should stay simple.
Third—stay away from the saintess. He didn't need details to know she was trouble. Whatever followed her around, he wanted no part of it.
Fourth—clean up the mess in the human realm. Too many idiots were using his name to justify whatever crimes they were committing, and if that continued, it would eventually circle back to him. Better to deal with them now and cut it off at the source.
He paused, tapping the end of the pen lightly against the paper before adding one more.
Fifth—keep his distance from the Mage Tower.
His expression hardened slightly at the thought.
The place was considered the center of magical advancement in the human realm, a so-called institution of knowledge where mages operated without restraint. Power was the only thing that mattered there, and morality was treated as an inconvenience at best.
Give people that kind of freedom, and it didn't take long for things to go wrong.
He remembered it clearly—the experiments, the complete disregard for consequences, the way they pushed limits simply because they could. When he had read about them before, he had lost count of how many times he'd wished for someone to wipe that place out entirely.
Annoying, dangerous, and best avoided unless absolutely necessary.
Sixth—
He paused, the pen resting against the paper as the thought lingered longer than the others. For a moment, he considered writing it down, but the more he turned it over in his mind, the less it felt worth it.
The possibility was there, but it was so slim it barely counted.
"…No," he muttered, lowering the pen. "It can't happen."
There was no point planning around something that unlikely.
Cassian went over the list once more, checking each point carefully before setting the paper aside.
It was written in English, and in this world, no one could read it anyway, so there was no reason to hide it or destroy it.
After that, Cassian rose from his seat, his gaze lingering over the room for a brief moment before he turned away, his decision already made.
"Time to go."
"Tier 9 Magic: Teleportation."
A magic circle unfolded beneath his feet, intricate layers of crimson runes forming one over another, each locking into place with precise alignment. The air around him bent slightly, space pulling inward for a brief instant before releasing all at once.
He vanished.
The next moment, he stood somewhere else entirely.
The ground beneath him was dark and dry, cracked in long stretches that showed no sign of life. Nothing grew here. The few trees scattered across the land were nothing more than hollow remains, their twisted branches reaching outward like they had been left behind by something that had long since died.
The air carried weight, thick with dark mana that pressed down without pause, dulling everything beneath it.
Cassian's gaze moved across the landscape, taking in the details without reaction.
"…Just like it was described."
This was the border.
Beyond this point lay the human kingdoms, but teleportation magic only worked for places the caster had seen before, and Cassian had never set foot in human territory, so from here on he would have to continue on foot.
The continent was divided unevenly—humans controlled the majority of the land, spreading across more than half of it, while the demon realm occupied a smaller but heavily fortified region. The elven territories remained isolated, claiming only a fraction, with other races scattered across areas that held little real influence.
Among them, the demon realm stood apart—and not in a way anyone would envy.
It was a dead land, not figuratively, but in the most literal sense.
The concentration of dark mana had warped it beyond recovery, stripping away anything natural. The soil could no longer support life, and any plant that tried to grow would wither before taking root, leaving behind nothing but the remnants of what the land might have once been.
For demons, however, that was not a problem.
They did not rely on crops or livestock like humans or elves. Their existence was tied directly to magic, and in a land saturated with dark energy, they thrived.
In many ways, this environment suited them perfectly.
It was also the result of their own nature.
Demons constantly released dark mana into their surroundings—not out of carelessness, but because they couldn't stop it. Their bodies produced it without pause, and it bled into the world as naturally as breathing. Control was possible, but most saw no reason to bother.
Restraint was not part of how they lived.
Over time, that constant release accumulated, layer upon layer, until the land itself could no longer endure it. What had once been ordinary terrain was reshaped into something barren, drained of life, and unfit for anything that didn't belong to them.
In that sense, the demon realm was exactly what its inhabitants had made it.
"Now it's time to use the Gem of Dolus."
Cassian reached into subspace and pulled out a small gem, fastening it around his neck before closing his eyes.
The artifact was designed to alter everything—appearance, aura, even the presence one gave off. In the hands of a sentient monster, it could create a flawless human form that no one could distinguish from the real thing.
The change began immediately.
His horns faded first, dissolving into nothing, followed by his armor as it vanished without a trace. The pressure that once surrounded him disappeared along with it, leaving behind no hint of the overwhelming presence he carried as the Demon King.
In its place, something far more ordinary took shape.
His figure shifted, shrinking down from eight feet to six, his features softening into a younger appearance. White hair settled naturally around his face, and his red-black eyes lost the weight they once carried, blending into something that no longer stood out.
Cassian opened his eyes and looked down at himself, briefly checking the result before lifting his gaze forward.
"As expected… no one's finding me like this."
There was nothing left to mark him as the Demon King. To anyone who saw him, he was just another human—indistinguishable, unremarkable, and impossible to recognize for what he truly was, even if the truth stood right in front of them.
"Tier 5 Magic: Farsight."
A small magic circle formed near his eye, rotating once before stabilizing. His vision stretched outward, distance collapsing as the horizon drew closer, sharpening until he located what he needed—a human city near the border, its walls intact, movement steady within.
That was enough.
He let the spell fade.
Space warped around him, folding inward for a brief instant before releasing, and his figure vanished from the barren land without a trace.
He reappeared in a narrow alley within the town, his footing steady as though he had simply stepped there.
The difference was immediate.
The silence of the demon realm gave way to layered noise—voices carrying through the streets, footsteps passing in constant motion, and vendors calling out over one another. The air felt warmer, carrying the scent of food and the press of a crowded city.
Cassian stepped out of the alley, his expression unchanged as he observed the flow of people moving past him, each absorbed in their own concerns, none giving him a second look.
I still prefer the demon realm's air, he thought, his gaze drifting briefly across the street. The lighter atmosphere felt wrong to him, lacking the weight he was accustomed to.
That dense, mana-filled air had always felt natural, something his body accepted without resistance, unlike this so-called fresh air that felt empty in comparison.
"Now… to the city that houses the most powerful academy."
***
A horse-drawn carriage rolled across the open plains, its wheels creaking against the uneven road while the wind swept past in long, steady currents, with nothing but endless grassland stretching in every direction, broken only by the road ahead.
"So, boy… you're heading to Brighthold Academy too?" the middle-aged driver asked, turning slightly to glance back.
Cassian sat at the rear, one arm resting against the side as he looked out at the passing land. "Yeah."
The man gave a short laugh. "Then you've got nerve. The entrance test isn't something most people walk through. My son tried last year…" His voice dipped for a moment. "Didn't make it."
He clicked his tongue, adjusting the reins. "And he wasn't useless either. Knew his way around a sword, picked up some basics. Still wasn't enough."
His gaze stayed forward, but there was a quiet frustration in it. "They say it's open to everyone, make it sound fair. But what's the point if most people don't even stand a chance? No magic, no real skill, and you're done before it even starts."
"Nothing about it is fair," Cassian said, his tone flat. "They just call it that. Even birth isn't equal. Some get everything from the start, others spend their whole lives trying to catch up."
The man let out a breath that almost turned into a laugh. "Yeah… that's the truth of it." He shifted slightly in his seat. "I used to think hard work would be enough. Save some money, get my son into a good place, maybe see him become an official someday."
He shook his head. "Doesn't work like that. Most academies won't even look at people like us, and the one that does…" His grip on the reins tightened a little. "They don't care about effort. They want talent. The kind you either have or don't."
Cassian's gaze didn't leave the horizon. "At least among commoners, you don't have to deal with your own blood turning on you just to climb higher."
That drew a real laugh out of the man, louder this time, carrying into the open air. "You've got a rough way of putting things, kid." He glanced back again, still grinning. "But I'll take that over lies. Talking to you's a bit different… makes things easier to swallow."
The man's laughter faded as the carriage rolled on, the steady creak of the wheels filling the silence between them.
"Still," he said after a while, his tone more casual now, "Brighthold isn't something you walk into with just confidence. You got something backing you, or are you just going to figure it out there?"
Cassian didn't look at him. His eyes stayed on the road ahead. "I'll manage."
The man huffed lightly. "That's what they all think." He adjusted the reins as the path widened. "Nobles send their kids there after years of training. People like us start behind before it even begins."
"Then you close the gap," Cassian replied.
The man glanced back, studying him for a second before letting out a quiet chuckle. "You've got a way of saying things like it's already decided."
The road curved, and the plains began to break. In the distance, something massive came into view—twin gates rising high, built into walls that stretched far beyond sight. The closer they got, the more imposing it became.
"That's Emlride," the man said, nodding ahead. "City of the academy."
Traffic thickened as they approached. Carriages lined up in slow-moving rows, merchants and travelers gathering near the entrance, guards stationed at the gates watching everything that passed through.
The man pulled the reins, bringing the carriage to a gradual stop. "This is as far as I go."
Cassian stepped down, his gaze lifting briefly to the towering gates before he reached into his pocket and took out a gold coin, holding it out to the man.
"For the ride."
The man blinked, a bit surprised at the amount, but took it anyway. "Didn't expect that." He looked at Cassian for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Hope you get in."
Cassian looked at the line stretching toward the gates, watching how each person was stopped and checked before being allowed through.
Using magic here wasn't an option.
An archmage was inside the academy. A Tier 9 spell would stand out immediately, and he had no intention of drawing attention this early.
So he joined the line.
It moved slowly. One by one, people stepped forward, got checked, and passed through. By the time his turn came, nearly an hour had passed.
A guard looked at him. "For the academy entrance?"
"Yes."
The guard handed him a smooth white sphere, small enough to hold in one hand. "Hold this."
Cassian took it.
Nothing happened.
The sphere stayed the same, no glow, no reaction.
The guard took it back without a second look. "Alright, go."
At this time of year, people came from everywhere for the academy. The check was simple—just enough to make sure no demons slipped in.
Cassian walked through the gates.
Inside the city, movement never seemed to stop, with voices overlapping from every direction as vendors called out to passing crowds, people pushed through the streets in a steady flow, and carriages forced their way through narrow paths, while the air carried a mix of food, dust, and heat, all blending into the constant noise of a place that never truly slowed down.
"Emlridge City."
*****
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