[Scene - Royal Magic Academy – Morning]
The morning sun over the Royal Magic Academy of Ironwood felt like a physical insult.
It was too bright, too clinical, illuminating the scars left on the stone walls by the recent demon incursion with a cold, uncaring clarity.
In Class B, the usual morning chatter had been replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence.
"Where is Kuro today?" The instructor's voice was thin, echoing off the high ceilings.
Rei Nocturne sat in her usual seat, her hands folded neatly on her desk. She didn't look up. Her silence was a fortress, more expressive than any verbal excuse could ever be.
She knew exactly where he was. She could feel the faint, rhythmic thrum of his shadow core—the ten percent of his essence he had gifted her—vibrating with a low, mournful frequency.
Ryuto sat two rows behind her, his gaze fixed on the empty chair. A quiet stillness had settled within the academy halls, a heaviness in the air that felt like the gathering of a storm.
He remembered Kuro's quiet demeanor, the way he had politely helped him find the training grounds on his first day, and the respectful, "perfectly average" bow he gave to every teacher.
He lost his parents, Ryuto thought, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his pen.
It's like something in him was lost long before this, though... A realization hit him like a physical blow. The void he had sensed in Kuro's magic wasn't an absence of power; it was the residue of a heart that had already been shattered once before.
---
In the corridor outside, Princess Alisa Ironwood stood alone by a stained-glass window. She clutched a single white flower, its petals already beginning to wilt in the morning heat.
"How long... will we keep losing to the demons?" she whispered to the empty hallway. Her teeth gritted as she looked at the flower—a symbol of the purity the academy claimed to protect.
"We couldn't protect what was important to him. We couldn't even protect the dignity of those who gave everything for this kingdom."
---
Far from the sanitized halls of the capital, the world was a different color. On the ragged edge of the Ironwood Forest, the air smelled of wet ash and scorched pine.
The house that had once stood proudly—a humble, sturdy cabin built by the hands of Darken and Lyra Velgrith—was now a skeletal ruin.
Kuro stood in the center of the wreckage. He didn't wear his mask here. His silver hair was matted with soot, and his purple eyes stared vacantly at the debris.
The wind carried the remnants of a life he had almost allowed himself to believe in: a scorched doll from a childhood he hadn't truly had, a half-melted picture frame, and a shattered teacup that still bore the faint stain of herbal tea.
He said nothing. He didn't cry. His terrestrial upbringing as Kiyoshi Ishida had taught him that tears were a tactical waste of hydration and emotional energy.
Rei approached his side, her footsteps light on the charred floorboards. Her eyes trembled as she looked at him, seeing not the Darkness Lord, Shujin, but the "cracked" boy who had overhears his first set of parents call him a "project."
"Kuro-sama..." she whispered, her voice cracking.
Kuro didn't turn. He slowly knelt, picking up a splintered piece of wood from what had once been the doorway. It was a piece of the doorframe where Darken had once carved marks to measure Kuro's growth—a measurement of a "normal" boy that never truly existed.
"I was too slow," Kuro finally murmured, his voice sounding like dry leaves.
"They... were too kind. They fought for a future they thought I belonged to. But this world... it has no room for kindness that isn't backed by a blade."
Rei looked down at the ash. "Not even the gods could save them, despite all the prayers of the Church."
"Then the gods are not worthy of the effort it takes to save them," Kuro replied. He stood up, the splintered wood snapping in his grip.
---
Three hundred miles away, in the city of Emberholme on the border of Ironwood and Flarewood, a different kind of light was being cultivated.
This was the sacred stronghold of Sanctum Lumina, a city of white spires and golden domes that seemed to reflect the sun with a blinding, aggressive piety.
Inside the Grand Cathedral of Radiance, hundreds of white-robed followers were lined up in perfect, geometric precision.
They knelt on the polished marble, their eyes closed and hands raised in a collective, rhythmic trance.
On the pulpit, Grand Cardinal Sarion stood, his eyes glowing with a faint, artificial radiance.
"The Light has returned!" Sarion declared, his voice amplified by resonance magic. "A new Hero has been summoned from the World of Presence to purge the rot that threatens our peace!"
Cheers erupted, a tidal wave of sound that shook the massive stained-glass windows. Behind the Cardinal, the central window depicted the "First Hero" in golden armor, triumphantly slaying a demon while casting a long, protective shadow over the human kingdoms.
It was a masterpiece of propaganda, hiding the historical truth that the First Hero had collaborated with demons to maintain a "False Peace" for over a century.
"Let us usher in a new Age of Light!" Sarion shouted, his smile never reaching his eyes.
But deep below the cathedral, beneath the layers of prayer and the scent of incense, lay the Inquisition Division. In a room lit only by cold, blue mana crystals, a hooded man with crimson eyes tapped a clear crystal orb.
"Find the Hero Ryuto," the leader commanded his subordinates. "He is being influenced by the academy's 'average' elements. Protect him from the shadows, even if we have to prune the garden he walks in."
"And the Darkness Lord, Shujin?" a voice asked from the corner.
The hooded man smiled thinly, a expression of pure utilitarian malice.
"He is no hero, and he is no demon. He is a dissident—a glitch in the goddess's script. If he cannot be written into our narrative, he must be erased from the page."
---
As the sun began to set behind the forest mountains, painting the sky in the colors of a fresh bruise, Kuro and Rei finished their work. Beside the ruins of the cabin, they had built a small shrine of unpolished stone.
Rei placed two wildflowers on the cairn. Kuro remained silent, his shadow stretching unnaturally far across the clearing.
"Master doesn't have to bear this burden alone," Rei whispered, stepping closer until her shoulder brushed his. "I am your shadow. Where you go, I am already there."
Kuro's voice was hoarse, a stark contrast to the clinical precision he usually maintained.
"It is a burden I must bear, Rei. I studied the 'Dark Psychology' of man so I would never be surprised by betrayal again. But I forgot that the gods play by the same rules of manipulation."
"Master is still human," she said firmly, her hand reaching for his.
He looked at her, his eyes cold yet momentarily trembling.
"I'm not sure. My heart cracked in that apartment in Tokyo when I was six. This second life was supposed to be a tool for the ',' but I will not be a project for a deity's boredom."
He stood and turned away from the shrine, his cloak billowing like a shroud.
"If the gods created this world where kindness is a death sentence and wicked rules are the only laws that hold, then I will become their opposition. This world doesn't need the 'Justice' of the Sanctum. It needs mine."
---
That night, on the rooftop of the Royal Magic Academy, Ryuto stared at the moon. In his hand, he held the Flame of Judgment—the divine weapon gifted to him by Elmyria.
"I was summoned to overcome the darkness..." he whispered to the wind.
But a doubt, small and sharp, grew in his heart. He remembered the reports of Shujin's actions—the destruction of corrupt nobles, the saving of demi-human slaves.
"Who decides what is darkness?" he asked the silent stars. "I never felt malice from Kuro. He's just... empty. And yet the Church of Light has declared Shujin the ultimate evil. Is the world just black and white, or are the gods just using different shades of grey to paint their own picture?"
---
Back in Emberholme, within a secret, sound-proofed chamber, Grand Cardinal Sarion met with a shadowed noble wearing the crest of the Flarewood Royal House.
"The Darkness Lord has appeared, and he has struck the Eastern Demon Lord," Sarion stated, his voice devoid of his earlier religious fervor.
"Then the time has come," the noble replied, his voice a low growl. "The demon threat is a necessary fear. If Shujin removes it, the people will no longer need our 'Light.' Our nations must unite under the Sanctum's banner immediately to maintain order."
Neither noticed the faint, violet flicker within the communication crystal sitting on a side table.
"How interesting," Shujin's voice whispered in the very air of the room, unheard by the conspirators. "So even faith... is just another mask for the study of Dark Psychology."
Kuro, sitting in his dormitory miles away, closed his eyes and let out a cold, chilling laugh. The chessboard had just grown much larger.
---
✦ To be continued...