The Demon Seed (1)
It was here. The day I'd been dreading.
The start of the *Demon Seed Arc.*
I'd been busy—managing *The Golden Compass* had taken up most of my time. Surprisingly, the company had grown faster than I expected. We'd established ourselves in the central region of Lovina, with a steady flow of customers from the capital and its outskirts. Even inside the academy, we had a reliable network.
That said, the academy wasn't our main source of income. Most of the students here only bought light contraband: banned potions, illicit books, and… strange items. I still don't know what's wrong with extra number 4136, but gold is gold.
---
Right now, *The Golden Compass* was earning about **500 gold a month.** The majority of our profits came from high-grade potions and enchanted trinkets—rare items that people were willing to pay ridiculous prices for.
But I wasn't keeping the money. Every coin was reinvested. Supplies, bribes to expand our network, and equipment for my personal training. This wasn't about building an empire—it was about surviving.
---
Speaking of survival, my training was paying off.
When it came to magic, I'd always understood the basics—elements, mana cores, the usual surface-level knowledge that I had written about. But the academy had shown me how little I actually knew. Mana circulation, elemental affinities, advanced casting techniques—it was all starting to make sense now.
Physically, I was stronger than I'd ever been. My kicks were faster, my strikes more precise, and my control over Aura had improved significantly. Every morning, I trained in the woods, drilling taekwondo techniques until my body ached.
My schedule was relentless. Mornings were for training, afternoons were for classes, and nights were for running *The Golden Compass* or preparing for what was coming. It was exhausting, but I couldn't afford to rest. Not with this arc looming over me.
---
The first-year students were gathered at the training grounds for the practical of the year: sparring.
I stood at the edge of the grounds, watching as the instructors prepared for the event. The rules were simple—two students would be randomly paired to fight in front of the instructors. It was a way to test combat ability and adaptability, things the entrance exams hadn't measured.
The exams had focused on theoretical knowledge and mana levels. That's how we'd been ranked. But sparring? That was different.
I scanned the crowd, taking note of familiar faces. Alex was off to one side, practicing smooth, deliberate swings with his longsword. Sophia stretched nearby, her golden hair catching the sunlight as she wore her usual confident smirk. Arthur stood further away, scowling as he adjusted his sword belt, radiating his usual irritation. Amethyst leaned lazily against a tree, looking as though she'd rather be anywhere else.
In the novel, this was Alex's moment. The sparring matches were where he began to shine, showing everyone—including the nobles—what he was capable of. But something felt wrong.
---
The first match was announced.
"Alex Clay versus Makol Rucandel!"
I frowned. That wasn't right.
In the novel, the first match had been Alex versus Arthur. It was a defining moment for both characters, the beginning of their rivalry. But now, Alex was up against Makol, the tall, green-haired swordsman ranked fifth.
"What's going on?" I muttered to myself.
---
Alex stepped into the ring, his longsword gleaming in the sunlight. Makol followed, his twin short swords drawn and ready.
The fight began with Makol rushing forward, his swords flashing in a flurry of rapid strikes.
Alex didn't flinch. His movements were calm and deliberate, each swing of his longsword perfectly timed to deflect Makol's attacks. He sidestepped Makol's aggressive strikes, countering with sharp, precise blows that forced the taller swordsman back.
Makol growled, his frustration mounting as Alex outmaneuvered him at every turn. He tried to use his strength to overwhelm Alex, but Alex was too fast. With a perfectly-timed parry, Alex disarmed Makol, sending one of his short swords flying.
With a final, powerful strike, Alex knocked Makol to the ground, his longsword pointed at his throat.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"Winner: Alex Clay!"
I stood next to Yurei, who clapped quietly, his face showing a mix of awe and nerves.
"He's good," I muttered.
Yurei nodded. "Really good."
Arthur, standing nearby, scowled even deeper, his hands tightening around his sword.
Unbeknownst to me, Chiyo was watching from the far side of the training grounds, her crimson eyes locked on me.
---
The next match was announced.
"Chiyo Sakuragi versus Yurei Hirose!"
Yurei froze.
I glanced at him. His pale face said it all—he wasn't ready for this.
Chiyo stepped into the ring, her black-and-red robes swaying slightly in the wind. Crackles of dark, electric-like energy coiled around her hands, pulsing with a terrifying intensity. The air around her felt heavy, charged, and the crowd fell silent.
"What kind of magic is that?" someone whispered.
"I've never seen anything like it," another muttered.
Yurei followed hesitantly, his daggers trembling in his hands.
The fight was over before it even began.
Chiyo raised her hand, and beams of dark energy shot toward Yurei, forcing him to retreat. The attacks were relentless, tearing through the air with unnatural speed and precision. Yurei tried to close the distance, darting in with his daggers, but he couldn't get close.
The final blow hit him square in the chest, sending him flying out of the ring. He landed hard, his body slumped and unmoving.
The crowd was stunned.
Sophia approached Chiyo, her curiosity quickly turning into irritation when Chiyo ignored her.
"That magic… where did you learn it?" Sophia asked again, her voice tinged with frustration.
Chiyo didn't respond. Her crimson eyes remained locked on me.
Sophia frowned, crossing her arms. "Rude."
I barely noticed. My stomach was in knots.
*This isn't possible.*
Chiyo wasn't supposed to have this kind of magic. In the novel, she was a wind mage. Decent, but unremarkable. And this? This wasn't just light magic.
This was *darklight magic.*
Darklight magic wasn't just rare—it was an evolved form of light magic, something that took years of mastery to develop. Even among the Belmonts, the royal family known for light magic, it was considered exceptional.
"How is this possible?" I muttered, my mind racing.
The professor's voice snapped me back to the present.
"Next match: Julius Vaelorian versus Sophia Belmont!"
---
I stepped into the ring, my nerves frayed. Sophia followed, light magic radiating from her like sunlight.
She glanced at me, her confident smirk replaced by a pout. "You know, I'm still annoyed about earlier. But I guess I can use this match to blow off some steam. Sorry in advance."
The fight began.
Sophia attacked first, beams of light magic shooting toward me with dazzling speed. I activated Aura, dodging and closing the distance. My kicks forced her to retreat, but she countered with bursts of magic that kept me on the defensive.
She was fast. Every time I tried to close in, her magic forced me back.
My mind kept drifting to Chiyo, her impossible magic, and the questions it raised.
Sophia took advantage of my distraction, landing a blast of light magic that sent me stumbling.
"Focus, Julius!" she called, her tone half-mocking. "What, am I too much for you?"
Before I could respond, a surge of chaotic energy erupted from the far side of the training grounds.
A student screamed.
I turned, my heart sinking.
One of the students had mutated.
A demonic human.
The creature fired a blast of dark magic straight at Sophia, who was too distracted to react.
Without thinking, I pulled a shield from my *Subspace* and threw myself in front of her. The blast slammed into the shield, deflecting harmlessly.
I lowered the shield, locking eyes with the creature.
*Chiyo can wait. Survival comes first.*