The city of Valhalla, built around the Hero Academy, stood as a shining jewel of civilization. A neutral zone independent of the continent’s three major powers, it thrived as a cultural melting pot, where the traditions and advancements of all three powerhouses bloomed in harmony. According to connoisseurs, Valhalla was more luxurious than the Empire’s capital, more majestic than the capital of the Holy Empire, and more advanced than the Republic’s capital.
However, the brighter the light was, the darker the shadow it cast. Beneath Valhalla’s radiant surface lay a squalid slum, infamous even across the continent. The locals called it the Ant Nest.
Through its dingy, maze-like alleys, a group cloaked in black robes made their way forward. Their presence was so sinister that even the drugged-up, lawless residents of the Ant Nest shrank away at their passing, choosing to disappear rather than make eye contact.
The group stopped before a narrow alley, and Calyx said, “Open it.”
“Yes, Priest Calyx!” replied a demon behind him.
Calyx’s subordinates entered the alley, their steps practiced. One of them pressed a palm to what seemed like a dead-end wall. As black energy flowed into the wall from three directions, a circular entrance slowly appeared from nothing.
Calyx let out a quiet sigh and threw off his robe as he entered the hideout. He was worried about how to make the dead cadet’s disappearance look like a mere case of running away. A lot of work would be needed.
What should I do? For now, I should find someone who looks as close to him as possible, he thought.
His plan was simple: this cadet, unable to bear the pressure of his studies and the professors’ abuse, had fled the academy and run back to his hometown. To sell that story, Calyx needed to find someone with an appearance similar to that cadet’s to create a convincing alibi and stage the escape.
First, he would need to figure out where the cadet was from. Judging by his features, the human seemed to be from the Republic, but that was only a guess. Over the five hundred years since the people from a place once called Korea had crossed over into this world, their bloodlines had intermingled with the continent’s. Looks alone were no longer enough to determine nationality.
I need to wrap this up before that person finds out, Calyx thought, biting his lip, his expression tense.
As Calyx went further into the hideout, about thirty followers, members of the Demon Cult assigned to help execute the plan, rushed to greet him.
“You’ve returned, Priest Calyx!”
“We heard that we lost contact with Husk.”
Sitting in a chair, Calyx silenced them with a single word. “Quiet.”
“Sir Calyx, what about the cadet’s body?” asked a demon.
“Leave it in the corner. As for Husk’s body, chop it up and feed it to the stray dogs.”
“Y-yes, sir!” Even if they were demons worshipping the Demon God, the command was brutal enough to leave them stammering.
Calyx’s eyes glinted coldly. “Now then, who was supposed to accompany Husk to place the nail today?”
The room fell silent as eyes slowly turned toward one demon, who became flustered.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Calyx said.
“I-I... That’s... Well, Priest Calyx...” The demon paled and backed away before dropping to his knees before Calyx. “I-I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear!”
Calyx reached out toward him, a cold smile creeping across his lips. “There won’t be a next time. I don’t trust the living. The only ones I trust... are the dead.”
“P-please, Sir Calyx!” pleaded the demon.
Dark mana swirled at Calyx’s fingertips, condensing into sharp, thorn-like spikes. With a sound akin to that of a shot being fired, it pierced the man’s skull clean through.
“Chop up his body and feed it to the dogs, too,” Calyx said.
“Y-yes, sir!” Pale with fear, the remaining demons quickly dragged the corpse away, trailing blood as they disappeared into another room.
After having executed one of his men without a flicker of hesitation, Calyx leaned back calmly in his chair. “How’s the work going on the other ley lines?”
“I-it’s progressing smoothly,” a demon replied.
“None of you are stupid enough to be working alone like that bastard, right?” he asked.
With tense, rigid faces, his subordinates answered, “N-no, sir!”
Calyx clicked his tongue in displeasure. He knew some of them were probably bending the rules behind his back. If he could, he would hunt them all down and eliminate them, one by one, but that would leave him too short-staffed to complete the operation.
At that moment, one of the demons said, “Erm. Priest.”
“What is it?”
“Should we pause the ley line work until we finish fabricating the cadet’s alibi?”
After all, by the next day, the professor who issued that permit would likely notice the cadet’s disappearance. Until they had forged enough evidence to show that the cadet had fled voluntarily, and not vanished in the outdoor training grounds, the risk of exposure was too high.
Calyx thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No. Continue as planned.”
“B-but!”
“That professor won’t report anything right away just because he hasn’t heard from a cadet for a day or two.”
After all, if that professor raised the alarm too soon, he would end up implicating himself since he had issued the permit. No professor wanted that.
At most, he’ll try to search for the cadet on his own, Calyx thought.
Of course, no matter how he looked at it, this situation had definitely increased the risk. He said, “If the work is delayed, the plan gets delayed.”
“But there’s still a whole year left until the full-scale plan begins, isn’t there?”
Calyx clicked his tongue in irritation, looking at the subordinate as though he were hopeless. “You fool! Why do you think we’ve been preparing all this for a few years? Gradually feeding a curse into the ley lines to set up a massive ritual... Even that person needed years of preparation to do something this intricate.”
Above all, Calyx knew that the moment it was revealed that the plan had gone off track, he would die. This incident had to be buried no matter what. “If you understand, then hurry up and find someone who looks like that cadet.”
“U-understood.” The subordinate bowed his head and headed toward the corner where they had placed the cadet’s corpse. The earlier chaos had left them no time to examine the corpse. “Let’s see. What did this kid’s face look like again... Huh?”
The subordinate paused as a swirl of fine, gray ash danced in the air. “What the hell is this?”
He frowned, brushing aside the strange ash scattered across the floor with his foot. Then, suddenly, a blinding blue flash erupted.
“Wha—”
The next moment, the subordinate’s head rolled across the ground, cleanly severed.
The gray-haired cadet, whom everyone had believed to be dead with a pierced heart, slowly rose to his feet. “I see. So, that’s what happened.”
Calyx and the other demons stared in disbelief, eyes wide, as the supposedly dead cadet stood upright before them.
“W-what is this?”
“No way! What the hell is happening?”
“You were alive?” Calyx said.
No, that couldn’t be. I definitely pierced his heart, the demon priest thought.
Calyx leaped from his seat and looked closely. The gaping hole he had once bored through the boy’s chest with a spike of dark mana had been completely restored. Even Calyx, who rarely showed emotion, could not keep the shock from his voice. “W-what in the world?”
The gray-haired cadet, Dale, smirked as he turned toward Calyx. “You said earlier you don’t trust the living, didn’t you? From now on, you’d better not trust the dead either.”
Calyx’s face twisted into a savage snarl. “I don’t know what trick you pulled, but do you really think you will make it out of here alive?”
This place was the Demon Cult’s hideout, with thirty of its cultists gathered here. Calyx himself held the title of priest. Even a professional hero wouldn’t easily walk away from a fight against someone of his rank. And this human? He was just a cadet and still a child.
“It seems you’re badly mistaken,” Dale said.
Calyx looked at Dale. “Mistaken?”
Dale chuckled faintly and tapped his sword against the floor. “The one who should be worried about making it out alive isn’t me. It should be you guys.”
Calyx’s expression twisted further in disbelief. “What?”
Dale didn’t spare him another glance. Calmly, he looked around the hideout. Scattered throughout the space were fist-sized black nails, embedded discreetly in the walls and floor.
So these are the cursed nails feeding into the ley lines,the cadet thought.
They had also said the full-scale plan would begin next year. With this much intel laid bare before him, if he still couldn’t figure out what this “plan” was or who “that person” was, then he didn’t deserve to call himself a regressor.
The memory of a past conversation with Iris came rushing back to him—about the curse that had taken her sight, stripping her of the title Saintess, and claimed the life of her dearest friend; about the one who had stolen the laughter from the girl who once smiled like a mischievous child.
“It was a curse.”
“A curse? From who?”
“The Archbishop of Dreams and Fantasies, Astaroth.”
They said that when a person got too angry, they ended up laughing instead. Dale was the same at this moment, laughing maniacally.
He pulled a glass vial out of his pocket, the liquid inside it glowing a vivid blue, and downed it in one gulp. “Yeah, so it was you guys.”
The empty vial left his hands and shattered against the floor. Then, Dale executed the Sun Sword Style Sixth Form: White Radiance, and a brilliant white light exploded outward, filling the room with blinding fury.