The presence the pitch-black sphere gave off was extraordinary. The blood-red moon that once loomed high, gazing down on all creation, had been overwhelming in its own right, but this was different.
It hovered with a silence that evoked desolation, but its gaze pinned me down like an immovable weight. The presence it radiated was transcendent.
It was no bigger than a human head. And yet I couldn't shake the feeling that the blood-red moon I had faced earlier was more of a seal than armor.
Was it only my imagination?
Cold sweat soaked my back. My ragged breaths echoed in my ears, matching the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat. I couldn't tell if the sound was mine or just a hallucination.
My fingers flinched as I paused to think.
Should I attack first? Somehow, I thought it would be too late to respond if I waited until after seeing the demon king's attack. Nevertheless, there was a sense of crisis that I would lose my life if I moved first.
In the midst of all of this, one question was clear. How would this guy attack?
As the red moon, his attacks had been bizarre. He intentionally smashed his own vessel and sent fragments flying. Then he lashed his tongue like a whip. The final one was far from a normal attack, since he crashed down like a meteor.
Now that such a being had revealed his true form, his method of attack was a simple approach.
A low hum buzzed in my ears. Like a swarm of bees' wings flapping entered my ears. Maybe it was tinnitus, triggered by the strain of absolute focus.
My condition was so bad that it was impossible for me to distinguish it clearly. However, it was clear that the pitch-black sphere was approaching at every moment.
Something felt strange. It was clear that the opponent was closing the distance. Most of my senses were affirming the sphere's approach, but only my eyes said otherwise.
The sphere wasn't getting any bigger. It moved closer, but its size didn't change. That dissonance rattled me.
I stared blankly at the sphere as it just crashed into me. I was unable to stand the impact and spat out both saliva and blood. The pain came belatedly.
Was this what it felt like to fall from the top of a mountain and hit the ground? It was as if my whole body had been crushed. The only reason I didn't collapse was because my body had failed to register the attack in time.
My limbs were shaky, and I was dizzy as I looked back. Before I knew it, the sphere had passed through me.
Just now, what... It was the second time I missed his move. Another strange thing was that the sphere left no penetrating wound in my body despite passing through me. The biggest question was how a sphere of this size could hit my whole body at the same time.
I felt as if I had been struck by a large metal ball almost the size of a house.
Did the distortion of perspective I just experienced have something to do with the physically impossible phenomenon?
A hidden motion in stillness? No. That alone doesn't explain it—
Before the second strike hit, I gathered what was left of my internal energy and forced my aura outward. It formed a crude armor, pieced together like scrap metal.
It was better than nothing.
My body was already a wreck. The pain didn't lessen, but the shock was bearable. Even so, the accumulated damage forced me to my knees.
Blood pooled in my mouth as a bitter thought surfaced. Have I ever felt this helpless since my regression?
It wasn't like this even when I faced the two Demon Kings before.
Bang!
This time, the shock came from above. It felt like my spine was going to snap. I felt fortunate that I was already on my knees. If I had been standing, my knee bones would've been crushed by the impact just now. If my aura had been any weaker, I'd have been crushed flat like a dried filefish.
I resisted with everything I had. I could feel blood leaking from my gums where the molars were located.
At this moment, I heard a voice. "Go... back...."
The voice grated against my ears. It sounded like a young girl's. Was it just my imagination, influenced by Deathberry?
A smile twisted its way back onto my face again. He is persistent.
He still hadn't given up. At this point, it was almost admirable. It would've been the case if the opponent hadn't been a demon king.
"Do you want me to teach you how to have me?" I could feel the pressure weaken a bit. It was a reaction that made him seem like he was listening to me. "Kill me. Then take my corpse."
I wanted to spit blood in defiance, but even that was beyond me now.
This bastard had no facial features, but I understood something through his presence alone—he was angry again.
The sphere struck again, and I braced myself for the ensuing shock. Well, I tried to prepare for it.
Baaaaaaang!
Without warning, a torrent of mana exploded somewhere ahead of me. The surge was so overwhelming that the pain that ran through my whole body was enough to make me shudder.
For the first time, the demon king's attention shifted away from me. I could finally breathe. His focus locked on the origin of that mana. It was in a place that was a bit further away.
Spiritual waves were emerging from the rubble of a collapsed building. It was like watching the lid of a jar suddenly open, releasing tightly compressed steam. The surge of mana erupted like an explosion, fracturing into afterimages.
This was the second time I was witnessing great magic, and the one using it was the same person. This great magic was somewhat different from the previous one. The streams of mana took on color. It looked like the tendrils of a giant tree had been painted in the sky. The self-luminescent purple tendrils looked more mysterious than the Milky Way.
The study of mysteries, magic. For a moment, I understood the feelings of those who devoted their lives to this field. Anyone who saw such a scene would have to yearn for it.
At that moment, the blood-red color that colored the world completely disappeared. Soon, hundreds of tendrils across the sky bent downward and slammed into the black sphere like a purple tidal wave.
***
It was a long time ago when Alderson Marbour first learned about Cartel Academy.
"You want me to become a professor?"
He was a young man. He was already forty years old at the time, but his appearance and temperament were clearly that of a young man.
With a wrinkle-free face, Alderson stared up at his older brother, and the latter said with a big smile, "Yes, Al."
"Why should I?"
"As I've said many times, the joy of education—"
"Is the greatest joy that humans can experience?" Cynicism crossed the young Alderson's face. "That isn't it. What do you really want to say? Well, even a master and student can be family. Is that what you want to tell me?"
His older brother's expression stiffened. Alderson knew this, but still continued sharply, "It is time to accept it now. Our parents are already dead. The dead aren't buried in the heart. Why else would there be a grave? So, it is time for you to live your own life, my brother. Stop pretending to be a professor and give up already."
"Al."
Alderson turned around without listening. He said what he wanted to say, returned to the magic tower, and locked himself in. It was almost like a self-imposed exile. It was because he was in the middle of a new research study. He was immersed in a new discipline that hit the narrow world of mages at this time: puppetry.
Alderson didn't take a step out of the tower made of stone walls. It was a research bordering on madness, similar to the closed training often performed by martial artists who reached the limit of their realm.
Alderson didn't know how many seasons passed. He forgot time and devoted himself to his studies. Suddenly, he realized that he had achieved his goal.
"That's it! Finally, it is done! Haha!" With grimy hair and wild eyes, he burst from the magic tower and went to find his brother.
What greeted him were three graves.
"He died two years ago. He suffered from a chronic disease. We didn't find out until after he collapsed. He only cared about you until the moment he died. He told me to never tell you about his illness or death."
Alderson asked, "Did he leave a will?"
Looking at Alderson staring blankly at the grave, his brother's friend replied, "He said to let Al concentrate."
This was Alderson's nickname. Now that his entire family was dead, it was a name that would no longer be used and would be forgotten.
The friend asked, "By the way, what are those behind you?"
"Puppets." Behind Alderson stood two puppets that looked exactly like his parents. However, his brother, who was supposed to see them, had already left.
Alderson quietly asked himself, "Who the hell was the one truly bound by the dead?"
***
Alderson spent four days standing in front of the graves before collapsing from exhaustion. Shortly after coming to his senses, he headed toward the empire's most intense battlefield, a land of war and barbarism.
It was the Wilderness, the southern part of the empire. It was a lawless zone where various factions clashed for their own interests, vicious monsters roamed, and the imperial family's influence couldn't reach. Therefore, it was a lawless zone where most church followers hid.
Alderson spent three years as a Warmage on this land. In fact, memories of that period were dim but the number of lives he took was vividly etched in his mind.
He threw himself into the battlefield as if looking for a place to die. By the time he got the absurd nickname of Death of the Battlefield, someone from the imperial family came looking for him. He was a nobleman with bright red hair that came down to his waist.
"Are you Alderson Marbour?"
"Yes."
"I came here after hearing the rumors. In the last three years, you have killed hundreds of church members in the south and won a landslide victory in a short-term battle against a priest."
Alderson shivered the moment the other party's eyes scanned his entire body. He could feel the gaze of an Absolute. The eyes resembling red jade seemed to scan the insides of his body.
Then this guy's mouth curved up. "You are quite outstanding. I don't think it is a waste of time. You are too good to be used as a decisive weapon against lowly mercenaries."
"Who are you?"
He had red hair, exuded an unusual presence, and there was even an insignia of the imperial family. Alderson recognized this man as a member of the imperial family. This was true, but it wasn't the whole truth.
The man said, "I am called Red."
"T-the Red Archmage!" Alderson exclaimed.
The chief of the Seven-Colored Archmages, the Master of the Crimson Flames, the strongest in the empire, the Immortal. How many nicknames did the man in front of him have?
Alderson wasn't one to shrink back from authority, but his heart couldn't help trembling at this moment.
Red said, "There is a gap in the Seven Colors. I've been looking for a successor, and I think you will be a good fit. Of course, not right away."
"I—"
"I know. I can see the deep sorrow in your eyes. Are you experiencing a heart demon?No matter how pointless, you humans always need growing pains," Red stated in a calm manner before handing something over. "Read it. It is a letter from your older brother."
"What?"
Without another word, the noblest mage in the empire departed.
Alone, Alderson stared blankly at the letter. It didn't take long for him to pull it out and read it. There was nothing special about it. They were bitter, nagging words, and worried that an older brother would leave behind just before death, as well as wishes for him to find happiness and live a long time.
The sun set. Alderson continued to read the one-page letter and suddenly realized that there was something more in it.
"This is..." It was a photo. He couldn't help laughing the moment he saw it. It was the first time he laughed since his brother's death.
Alderson had been under the impression that his brother had died alone He must've died painfully, fighting alone on his sickbed due to his hopeless younger brother failing to play his part.
That wasn't the case. There were numerous people beside his brother, lying on the hospital bed. They were his students.
Seeing their bright faces, Alderson laughed too, even if it was bitter. "It is better than blood."
Then the following year, Alderson was appointed as a professor at Cartel Academy.
***
Alderson had to admit that teaching others wasn't an easy task. Rather, he thought that the gift of teaching was the opposite of a universal talent. Getting the incompetent to understand things required constant patience.
"Professor Alderson, your class is so boring." This was said by a student with an exceptionally cheerful temperament. She was a commoner, but she had good grades and reputation.
Based on her seat during class and the surrounding gazes, it could be inferred that she was the center of the class. The only downside was that she was too meddling. After class, she clung to the academy's least popular professor.
"Why does education need to be fun?" Alderson replied in a grumpy manner.
"If it isn't fun, the students won't be interested. If we aren't interested, we won't want to learn!"
"That is because you guys have low intelligence. My class preparations are perfect. Anyone with enthusiasm and dignity will understand," Alderson spat.
She groaned in response.
"What is it now?" he asked irritably.
"You sound so ancient..."
"Rare knowledge is supposed to be that way. Only those who are qualified have the right to get their hands on it."
"Ah, there it is again..." The girl made a face and blurted, "Then at least crack a joke during class! Just one! It'd lighten the mood a lot!"
"I'll consider it."
In any case, this student was the only one who cared about Alderson, so he decided to humbly accept her advice.
The next day, after class, Alderson cleared his throat and tried. "Well. The sun sets early these days, so... you should all head back to the dormitory quickly."
After that, Alderson didn't show up to work for a week. On the eighth day, he barely overcame his shame and went looking for the student who had given him that damn advice.
"Puhahaha!" The girl burst out laughing, just as if she'd heard the joke again.
"You. Because of you, my authority..."
"Ah! It's okay! Sometimes, it is funny when people aren't too funny. But Professor—"
"Forget it. I should've known better than to listen to someone with such low intelligence," he grumbled.
"There you go again. Still, wasn't the reaction really great after you did it?" She grinned, flashing a set of perfectly white teeth. "Everyone thinks you're way less scary now!"
She was right. From that day on, the other students started to ask Alderson questions.
Alderson listened to them. Once he realized the parts that the students didn't understand, he got a sense of how to teach. He finally learned how to stand in a student's shoes. His extraordinary brain finally grasped the essence of teaching.
Soon, Alderson's class became the academy's most popular subject. Gradually, the students started to treat Alderson with ease.
"Professor Alderson, you like puppets?"
"Yes."
"Wow..."
"That is a bit shocking."
"My late mother used to collect dolls. I suppose I picked it up from her."
"I'm sorry."
Before he realized it, he was joking with students, even speaking casually with fellow professors. Naturally, there was a change in his personality and his way of speaking. And most people saw those changes in a good light.
One day, the Red Archmage reappeared without warning and said out of the blue, "The deep sorrow is gone, Alderson."
This mysterious mage, who was nothing less than an Absolute, didn't look any different from the last time Alderson saw him. Time had passed him by. His face bore not a single wrinkle. He still looked like a young man.
"This is an official letter from the imperial family," Red said.
"Go on."
"First of all, you are hereby granted the title of Archmage. From this day forward, the seventh color of the seven colors that spans across the sky, the purple hue that symbolizes both the beginning and the end, will become your second name."
"I accept." Alderson paused for a moment before asking, "First? Meaning there's a second?"
"Of course." The red-haired man smiled. "Alderson Marbour. I want to appoint you as the seventh dean of Cartel Academy."
"That..."
"I heard that all the professors, including the dean, voted unanimously. Such overwhelming support is unprecedented. It is only natural since you have been reforming the academy for twenty years."
"Twenty years..."
Had it really been that long? Alderson traced his face as if realizing the years that had passed. He could feel the rough texture of his skin and his beard. The bright days of youth had slipped into twilight.
He was delighted by this fact. Suddenly, his older brother's words to live a long life came to mind.
"I understand." Alderson said as he looked at Red. "I will accept the position of the academy's seventh dean."
***
As Alderson's perspective changed, the world changed. The young mage who had once been crushed by grief, mourning a lost family, now saw everyone around him as family. Nearly a century passed in a meaningful manner.
My older brother was right. It was a satisfying life. Perhaps even if given the chance to start over, he would walk the same path without hesitation.
Alderson looked around and saw the academy, tainted with blood and darkness.
It is all my fault. He had created the current situation. He was the one who had caused the crisis.
All the meridians in his body were damaged, and he was bound up like a fool. He couldn't even cast a single spell smoothly, so he needed help from the hero disciples.
It was all because he lacked strength.
As the dean of the academy, as the one entrusted with the noble will of the Platinum King, he was supposed to protect every student.
Of course, he couldn't protect them forever. He knew that these immature and adorable children would one day go out into society. They would surely walk into a world of cold winds. At present, the empire was going through a period of chaos like never before. So, at least until they graduated, they should be able to live in peace and safety. Later, once they were tired of the storms of life, once they walked through the swamps of never-ending pain, once they wanted to give up and throw in the towel, they could remember today and take comfort in it.
That, above all, was the duty of an educator at this academy. A duty that must be fulfilled.
Blood welled up again. The price of unleashing great magic with his broken body screamed through every nerve. His vision blurred red, but he didn't stop. I have a duty to protect their lives, even at the risk of my own.
Immediately afterward, the black sphere's intangible energy pushed away the great magic. The purple world once again started to be encroached upon by red.
This is a demon king.
The pressure was unbelievable. His aged body felt on the verge of collapse, but Alderson tightened his grip on his staff. He would die if he missed the current opportunity.
At that moment, he saw the princess crying in the distance. Did she feel guilty about the current situation? In front of her was Seren, who lay unconscious before her, buried in rubble.
"Seren, Seren..." Perist was trying to push off the rocks to save the unconscious Seren.
The black sphere shot them a sharp, icicle-shaped fragment.
Did the sight displease the sphere?
Deathberry, the doll once rested in Perist's arms, seemed to have already forgotten its former owner.
Perist's eyes widened in horror as blood splattered. She looked up, her eyes shaking. "W-why..."
It was hard for Alderson to answer back. The shard had precisely pierced his abdomen. The flow of mana that circulated throughout his body was cut off in an instant, and his great magic almost unraveled entirely.
In this state, Alderson just said, "It's all right."
He smiled without saying anything more. He wanted to reach out and pat her head,but his body no longer moved. Thus, he could only bluff, voice choked with blood.
"D-Dean..." Perist's eyes filled with tears. "I-it is my fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."
Of course it wasn't. Alderson smiled bitterly. If the ignorance of being deceived by a demon king was a sin, then the one who failed to teach was far more to blame. He was supposed to guide her better. He should've cultivated her personality enough for her to distinguish between right and wrong. Thus, Perist wasn't at fault.
"Anyone can make a mistake. That's why the academy exists. I don't want the children to repeat the mistakes we made when we were stupid."
Alderson was still kind to all students. He considered them to be family. Perist was no exception.
"No one else is going to hurt you." He grinned before looking at the demon king again.
A bluish glow ignited in Alderson's eyes. His heart raced, a warning of rampaging mana. His body was warning him to stop sustaining his spell right now. He would die if he didn't.
Alderson ignored it.
"You must pay the price," he muttered softly.
"Listen! Hadenaihar!" Alderson's shout rang through the space. The purple tendrils of light, which had shrunk for a moment, extended vigorously once more. "Your malice and deceit won't defile this place! This is a sanctuary of knowledge! It is the future of the empire! It is the tree of knowledge, and—"
What else? This place, Cartel Academy, for me... Ah...
Alderson smiled. "It is my home."
He smiled through the terrible pain of the meridians throughout his body being ripped and shredded. "It isn't a place a demon like you can invade and defile!"
A horrific peal of laughter rang out everywhere. It was the sound of a crack in the pitch-black sphere. Therefore, it sounded like a scream from a different perspective.
"I am the Purple Archmage—!"
The mage's roar swept in all directions. His manifested great magic surged with final strength, resonating with his defiance.
The purple tendrils encased the sphere, eroded it, and finally broke it.
The main body of the demon king—a lord of evil, the sphere of darkness—the agglomeration of evil that invaded the academy was finally shattered.
***
A storm of mana swept across the land. It was the final trace left behind by the Archmage.
Alderson's great magic completely destroyed the black sphere,then relentlessly chased down and destroyed every black shard scattered across the sky.
The purple tendrils that had once spread through the sky now looked like gold cracks etched into glass. Those gold cracks became the fault lines of collapse.
For one breathless moment, every soul in the Otherworld turned their eyes upward and witnessed simultaneously that the blood-red sky of the ominously layered world, a world of malice that trapped hundreds of students, shattered.
"Ah..."
Many students had once scoffed at Alderson's eccentricity. It was precisely because he had insisted that the highest dormitory rank not be marked in red, but in purple.
Rather than use the symbolic crimson of the imperial family—the most noble of colors—Alderson had placed purple, the final hue of the sevenfold spectrum, above all. Some professors and students had quietly criticized the old man's stubbornness, his pitiful pride as the bottom-ranked Archmage.
At that moment, those who were watching this scene realized his feelings. They came to understand that just like the red that burned the sky, that faint purple, tinged with blue, was also the color of dusk. It was the harbinger of the sunset.
The last piece of blood-red fragment was consumed by a group of enchanting purple lights and disappeared. The world that had been shrouded in an ominous light was soon dyed with a warm scarlet color.
A warm wind swept through the air, carrying peace and solace in its wake.
Dawn had come.