Chapter 18
“Linne Guardschield? You mean this student?”
“Hmm. This one… she’s a different case than Uriel.”
Those words from the headmaster resurfaced in my mind.
And indeed, Linne was different from Uriel—completely, utterly different.
Different enough that even the headmaster himself had grown worried.
“Her grades aren’t great, are they?”
“That’s because of her theoretical exams. She’s keeping up well in training.”
“But the instructors’ evaluations are not good.”
“…Can’t deny that.”
Training performance didn’t matter if she was out of her mind with that damned “hero” complex.
If it were just a phase, fine—but no, Linne was serious.
She wanted to be a hero, but something within her was critically wrong.
What she’d done earlier was nothing. In a real battlefield, she’d disobey orders without hesitation.
Because when the time comes—when something must be sacrificed for victory—
Linne Guardschield would refuse.
She’d protest, insisting there must be another way. That she could somehow turn the tide alone.
But the Empire’s idea of a hero isn’t some shining paragon of virtue.
A “hero,” in their eyes, is someone who annihilates demons by any means necessary and brings victory home.
By that definition, Linne’s “heroism” is a liability.
“If things continue like this… even I won’t be able to save her.”
A person who admired heroes, who dreamed of becoming one—
and, truthfully, possessed the qualities to be one.
She was tempting. I wanted to help her reach that dream.
To see her become a true hero.
But for that to happen… that hero must be controlled.
For the Empire never allows an uncontrollable strong one to exist freely.
And so, this Academy assault incident—
it wasn’t merely an ordeal to survive. It was a test.
For others, it would be the stage where they proved the results of their effort.
For Linne… it would be the stage where I proved myself to her.
“If I recall the dialogue when her favorability was low, and again when it was high, the answer’s clear.”
What was it again? Ah, yes—
“You are no true hero.
And I cannot obey an unheroic command.
Prove to me you are someone worthy to follow.”
Proof.
If I wanted to draw Linne toward my side, I had to prove myself.
Prove that I was someone she could look up to.
Not a mere instructor, but someone worth following with her whole heart.
Ordinary means would never work.
Not with her.
Because the man I am now…
is far removed from the kind of “hero” she dreams about.
I was once just a soldier on the front lines,
and now I’m only an instructor.
Honestly, when I first met her, I wondered why I had to train a lunatic like that.
But then—one moment changed everything.
A scene I could never forget,
a flame seared deep into memory.
“For the sake of her comrades, she stood at the front—never once stepping back.”
That kind of romance… how could I just ignore it?
Everyone else said the same thing:
“She lives too seriously.”
“Why does she do it? No one even appreciates her.”
They looked at Linne the same way they looked at Uriel—
as someone hopeless, talentless, foolish.
That’s why I want to show them.
Show them how blind they are.
How those who mock “romance” can never see beyond their limits.
That those who truly desire something—can reach farther, higher than anyone else.
“Instructor! This training method is unworthy of a hero!
A hero must face every duel in broad daylight and inspire her allies with glorious victories!”
“Linne! Enough! Why are you saying that during an ambush drill?!”
“Ambush?! That’s dishonorable! A hero’s battle should be fought proudly, under the sun—”
“Stop! Linne! One-point deduction!”
Yeah… training her was never going to be easy.
Uriel, meanwhile, was having her own problem.
For the past while, she’d felt someone trailing her.
No matter where she went,
that presence stayed a fixed distance behind.
She’d tried every trick she knew to shake them off—
nothing worked.
So, as a last resort, she ducked into the girls’ restroom.
For a moment, the footsteps paused.
But then, the figure dropped her hood… and followed her in.
“A girl?!”
Her perfect plan collapsed instantly.
Uriel froze, then spun on her heel to leave.
But the stranger followed again, silent and relentless.
What the hell?
Why follow someone like that without saying a word?
At least say something!
If not for what Instructor Deus had told her beforehand,
she’d have already turned around and demanded an answer.
“I’ve arranged someone to come for you soon. She’s a bit eccentric,
so even if she’s annoying, just endure her for half a day.
After that, you’ll see why.”
That person Deus mentioned—
Uriel assumed she must be a mage.
It made sense. Deus had insisted she study magic, after all.
Even though he himself was no magician,
she trusted his judgment.
But still—he never said anything about a lunatic.
When she imagined “eccentric,”
she thought of someone with odd speech patterns or strange habits.
Not this.
This woman was insane.
When Deus first told her to learn magic, Uriel had nearly snapped.
For a swordsman, being told to “learn magic” could easily mean:
“You’re terrible with a sword, so maybe try something else.”
It was an insult as grave as mocking her family.
Still, because it was Deus, she swallowed her pride.
Because if he said so, maybe he saw something she didn’t.
So she endured.
Exactly half a day.
After that, she reached her limit.
Being followed that obviously? Enough to drive anyone mad.
Finally, she turned.
“Um…”
She meant to say, ‘Who the hell are you and why are you following me?’
But instead—
“Uh… wh—what…?”
Her words died on her lips.
Before her eyes, a living shadow began to dance.
It was as if the darkness itself had come alive,
swaying like smoke in candlelight.
She didn’t understand what it was—
only that it was beautiful.
The same way she’d felt the first time she ever held a sword.
Something that seized her heart in an instant.
Something that called to her soul.
She was entranced.
Until the moment the shadow scattered like dust.
Pah—!
“…Ah.”
Like waking from a dream.
Like a performance ending abruptly.
Uriel blinked, dazed.
Then finally found her voice.
“Y-you—what did you just do to me?”
“How was it?”
“…What?”
“How was it?”
The woman repeated the same question, unblinking.
Uriel sighed. There was no escape from that stare.
“It was… fascinating. Okay? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now, your turn. Who are you—”
“Was that really all you felt?”
Uriel hesitated.
Because it wasn’t.
It wasn’t just fascination.
It was pull.
It was… longing.
“Fine. Yes. It was… beautiful. I wanted to see more.
And it felt… strangely familiar.”
“…I knew it.”
“…Knew what?”
“You’re attuned to darkness magic.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s impossible. I’m a swordsman. Magic has nothing to do with me.”
“I know. You are a swordsman.
But…” —Edgar’s gaze deepened—
“…you’re also a mage.”
Uriel groaned. “You just said I was a swordsman.”
“Sometimes both coexist.
Only by mastering the two can true potential reveal itself.”
It was almost the same thing Deus had said.
Uriel blinked. “Fine. But at least tell me who you are first.”
“Ah, right. Here.”
The woman handed over some documents.
Uriel skimmed through—
and her face went pale.
“…You’re a Tower Magus? A senior researcher?”
As if that weren’t enough—
“…Appointed here by the Princess herself?!”
“Mm-hmm.”
Oh, no.
A royally invited guest.
And she’d been treating her like a stalker all day.
Uriel nearly fell to her knees.
“I—I apologize, I didn’t realize—”
“Want to learn magic?”
“…What?”
“Like I said. You’re close to the dark element.
You’re a swordsman—but your soul leans toward magic.”
Uriel didn’t even have the strength to argue anymore.
She froze, caught between disbelief and reluctant curiosity.
“Now I get why Her Highness called me here,” Edgar murmured.
“You’re the reason.”
“Me?! No, that can’t—”
“If you say no, I’ll tell the Princess I found the real reason.”
And with that, Uriel was trapped.
Edgar’s eyes gleamed with feverish curiosity—
the kind that no one could extinguish once lit.
Just as Deus intended.
“…”
Uriel wanted to argue again—
but then she remembered something.
Both Deus and this mage had said the same thing:
that she was a swordsman and a mage.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
‘…They wouldn’t both lie.’
She swallowed hard.
The idea still felt wrong.
A swordswoman learning magic?
She could already imagine the mockery.
A fallen noble with no family name left—
now dabbling in magic like a fool?
They’d tear her apart.
Still…
“…Could you tell me more about it?”
Because she was different now.
Someone believed in her.
Someone had shown her proof.
And deep down, she wanted to believe too.
“And honestly… magic feels exciting.
Like the first time I ever held a sword.”
“It’ll take time,” Edgar said. “A lot of time. You sure?”
“I’ve gotten used to patience.”
“Good.”
Edgar sat down, shedding her playful air, her eyes sharp and alive with purpose.
Uriel listened closely.
And from afar, two figures watched them: the Princess and Deus.
“I found them like that,” the Princess whispered. “She seems fine?”
“Yes. I thought it’d take longer, but she accepted it quickly.”
Uriel, who had once walked the wrong path,
was finally stepping onto the right one.
The next step would prove whether that change had meaning.
“About four days left…”
Deus smirked faintly.
For the first time in his life,
he was actually looking forward to meeting the demons.
