The battlefield had gone silent.
The rift in the sky was gone.
The monsters had disappeared.
But the fear…
It remained.
Students stood scattered across the academy grounds, their faces pale, their bodies trembling. The once-proud Demon King Academy now looked like a war zone.
Broken ground.
Cracked walls.
Lingering dark energy in the air.
"…Is it over?" someone whispered.
No one answered.
Zareth Voidragon stood at the center, his expression calm as ever.
As if nothing had happened.
To him—
This was nothing more than a minor interruption.
From a distance, Lyra watched him carefully.
"…How can he be so calm?" she murmured.
Kael, still kneeling, let out a bitter laugh.
"…Because to him… that wasn't even a fight."
Lyra didn't respond.
But deep down—
She knew he was right.
Moments later—
A loud voice echoed across the academy.
"All students and staff—report to the Grand Hall immediately!"
It was Headmaster Valthor.
The Grand Hall was filled within minutes.
Despite the chaos, no one dared to disobey.
Students gathered in uneasy silence, whispering among themselves.
"This has never happened before…"
"Was that really an invasion?"
"What if it happens again?"
Fear spread faster than any attack.
Then—
The doors opened.
Valthor entered.
The entire hall went silent instantly.
His presence alone demanded attention.
Behind him…
Zareth walked in.
And just like that—
The tension doubled.
Students instinctively stepped back, creating distance between themselves and him.
"…They're afraid of you," Lyra said quietly as she walked beside him.
Zareth didn't react.
"They should be."
Valthor stepped onto the platform at the front of the hall.
"What happened today," he began, his voice steady, "was not a random attack."
Murmurs spread.
"It was an organized invasion."
Silence fell again.
"An enemy force," Valthor continued, "has set its sights on this academy."
A student raised his hand nervously.
"…W-Who are they?"
Valthor paused.
Then—
He spoke carefully.
"…An ancient faction."
The words carried weight.
"A group that has existed in the shadows for thousands of years."
Zareth's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Still hiding, even now."
Valthor glanced at him.
But continued.
"They are responsible for today's attack."
Another student shouted:
"Then why us?! Why the academy?!"
Valthor didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
He turned slightly.
Toward Zareth.
"…Because of him."
The entire hall froze.
All eyes turned.
Toward Zareth Voidragon.
"…Me?" he said calmly.
Valthor nodded.
"They are not targeting the academy."
A pause.
"They are targeting you."
Shock spread instantly.
"What?!"
"So this is his fault?!"
Fear turned into anger.
Students began whispering loudly.
"If he wasn't here, none of this would happen!"
"He's putting all of us in danger!"
Kael clenched his fist.
"…Shut up."
The voices stopped.
Kael stood up slowly.
"You all saw what happened," he said, his voice cold. "If he wasn't here… we'd all be dead."
Silence.
No one could argue.
Zareth, however, remained completely indifferent.
"…If they're afraid," he said, "they're free to leave."
His words were calm.
But absolute.
"I didn't ask for their presence."
Lyra sighed slightly.
"…You're not helping."
Zareth ignored her.
Valthor raised his hand, silencing the hall once more.
"Enough."
The room went quiet again.
"From this moment on," he announced, "the academy will enter a state of high alert."
Magic barriers would be reinforced.
Combat training intensified.
No one would leave without permission.
"This is no longer a place of learning alone," Valthor said.
"It is now a battlefield."
The weight of those words sank in.
For many students—
This was their first real taste of war.
After the meeting—
Students slowly began to leave.
Some were scared.
Some were angry.
Some were confused.
But one thing was clear—
Nothing would ever be the same again.
Outside—
Night had fully fallen.
Zareth stood alone once more, looking at the sky.
"…They're getting impatient."
A soft voice came from behind him.
"Or desperate."
Zareth didn't turn.
"…You're still here."
Lyra stepped beside him.
"I'm not running away."
A pause.
"…Not yet."
Zareth smirked faintly.
"…Good."
Lyra looked at him.
"You said they betrayed you."
Zareth's expression darkened slightly.
"…Yes."
"How many?"
A brief silence followed.
Then—
Zareth answered.
"…Seven."
Lyra's eyes widened.
"…And today?"
"…One less."
A cold wind passed through the night.
Zareth's gaze sharpened.
"…Six remaining."
Far away—
In the shadows—
A pair of glowing eyes opened.
"…So he's counting."
A low voice echoed.
"…Good."
Another figure stepped forward.
"Then let's see…"
Dark energy surged.
"…how long he can keep winning."
Back at the academy—
Zareth closed his eyes briefly.
"…Come."
A faint smile appeared.
"I'll erase all of you."