We Can't Afford to Lose!
At first, he couldn't help but be horrified. The Magic Club had launched straight into talk of "killing intent" and the like.
He'd thought gathering the students might win them some goodwill — only for it to look like the whole room was about to start flinging objects while screaming, Of course! A Demon King is still a Demon King! Back, foul demonkin!
And given Astaroth's personality, she would never just sit there and take it. She would counterattack — one hundred percent. If that happened, the hardliners would get exactly what they wanted—
"Demon King."
"Call me Club President! In here I'm not Demon King Astaroth — I'm Astaroth, President of the Magic Club!"
"Ah, right. President. Does that 'killing intent' of yours actually mean you want us to kill people?"
"Are you insane? Can you kill someone with light magic? How would you even do it — blind them with a flash and shove them off a cliff?"
Astaroth clicked her tongue as if the question were profoundly stupid. A few students' faces stiffened slightly, but the overall reaction still wasn't terrible.
"Anyone here who's swung a sword before? Oh, we've got elves and dwarves too. Correction — any students who've swung a sword?"
Hands shot up — swish, swish—
"What do you swing your swords at?"
"Trees?"
"Swinging a sword at a tree! How cruel!"
He ignored the tree-people getting worked up in the background.
"Straw dummies?"
"Good. And when you swing at those, do you go, 'Oh no, this is gonna hurt them, better go easy'?"
Heads shook vigorously.
"It's the same thing. I'm not saying you actually kill anyone. I'm saying you approach your magic while imagining that level of force. People go on and on about how mana is important, how formulas are essential — but the most important thing in magic is the breadth of your mental image. If all you picture is some tiny little flame and then dump mana into it and draw out formulas, all you'll get is ordinary fire magic."
"…Wasn't magic originally something built through precise calculation and formulas?"
"You're right. It is. But those calculations and formulas — did they just exist from the beginning?"
The elf student's question carried a faintly condescending edge. Astaroth sank it with a single blow.
She was right. Those calculations and formulas couldn't have existed from the start. So where, then, had magic truly begun — and how?
"Magic does need precise mana arrangement, calculation, and formulas. But if that's all you think about, your head locks up like this — clunk. Then all you can do is copy other people's magic."
"…"
"So Ahjussi… ahem. Instructor told me to paint the big picture and fill in the inside myself. Once I'd filled it in and crossed the boundary he'd set, he'd draw a new boundary further out and tell me to fill that in too. That's what magic is. Infinite potential for growth. Depending on the breadth of the caster's mental image, the scale, the power — everything becomes night and day."
Lethe surveyed the expressions of the students seated in the clubroom.
Some looked completely lost. Others seemed to be thinking, What kind of nonsense is this? It was far too different from every definition of magic they'd ever been taught.
A few of them seemed to be silently protesting: Never mind all that — when are you going to teach us the war hero's magic?
Some of them would leave the club within a few days. Lethe was certain of it.
This wasn't what they'd wanted, so it made sense. Better to leave than stay and grumble.
And someday they would regret it — when they saw the other students' magic levels suddenly leap forward. When they realized that what they'd dismissed as some weird Demon King's rambling had actually been a critical stepping stone for a breakthrough.
"Ah! And you all seem to be expecting too much — this isn't a lecture. It's a club. A club. The point is to interact with each other, and if expectations are too high, everyone just gets exhausted. I just want to talk with you about magic in more detail, more fun! Yeah? That's all!"
Even now, Astaroth was clearly still managing public opinion, fully aware of the wariness people held toward a Demon King.
Wearing her usual bright smile, she steered the conversation toward lighter topics — for instance, which aspects of the Empire the demonkin had found most troublesome, and which traits of the elves and dwarves they'd envied.
It was a clever move. Those uncomfortable demonkin had found them difficult and had even been jealous of them?
The students listening couldn't help but feel good about that. Which was exactly the point.
This… I might have less to worry about than I expected.
The whole "killing intent" business had nearly given him a heart attack, but she was handling it well. She hadn't become a Demon King for nothing.
If things went south, she fought. If she didn't like something, she fought. But woven between all that was the capacity for communication that Lethe himself had planted in her — and the two were blending surprisingly well. He felt a little more at ease.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Lethe started walking, heading off to prepare for his own lecture.
Astaroth was settled. Now he just needed to figure out what to do about the remaining Demon Kings.
"Ah! And one more thing! Our club has a rule!"
"A rule?"
"Every time you see our great and wonderful Ahjussi! No, Instructor… ah, whatever! Every time you see him, you have to bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle, polite and proper! A full prostration is even better! Pledging your loyalty is fine too!!"
"Uh, President? That rule is a little weird?!"
The Red Demon King said it as casually as anything — words that would have made Lethe jump out of his skin if he'd heard them.
*
Ordinarily, this would have been a gathering of red hair, black hair, blue hair, and silver hair.
But today, one was missing, and the three Demon Kings sat clustered together, talking among themselves.
"How was Ashu doing?"
"From what I saw, pretty well? I thought the human students might be one thing, but the elves and dwarves would be foaming at the mouth — turns out, no. After the club ended, I overheard them saying they were surprised. They'd never even thought of the concept of 'breadth of mental image' themselves."
"Of course they hadn't. No — of course they hadn't! It was Oraboni who taught her that, after all. No one else."
Praise for Astaroth was, if you looked closely, also praise for Lethe. For the other three Demon Kings, that was a deeply delightful thing.
Marmar's face was lit up with a radiant smile, as if the whole situation pleased her to no end.
"Soon every student at the Academy will come to understand Oraboni's greatness more clearly through Ashu. Just wait and see. There won't be a single person who dares hold their head high in front of him."
"If anyone walks around with their head held high, I'll chop that neck right off… ah, sorry. I shouldn't say that. Master would hate it, wouldn't he?"
Nod, nod—
El, who had been sitting quietly beside them, nodded as if to say that went without saying.
"But Mar."
"Yes, Sitri?"
"If things keep going like this… um, well. Ah. I feel like I'm being petty just bringing it up."
"What is it? Just say it properly."
"This situation right now. Isn't Ashu pulling too far ahead?"
A crack ran through the smile on Marmar's face — snap.
It was an accurate observation. Student evaluations of Astaroth were climbing vertically. Between the club and the magic barrier collapse — which the students had perceived as a spectacular performance — her reputation was shifting in a positive direction. People were starting to make an effort to get along with her.
Which meant that the one working hardest to fulfill Lethe's wishes was, naturally, becoming Astaroth.
They were like sisters. No — closer and more tightly bound than blood sisters. It was a good thing, something worth celebrating.
But as romantic rivals… they couldn't simply welcome it. She was scoring far too many points with Lethe. They could see themselves being pushed into the background with painful clarity!
"We… need to do something too."
"Yeah. We absolutely have to. At this rate, Ashu's going to be the only one getting all the credit!"
In truth, the answer wasn't hard. There was a perfect example right in front of them.
A club. A way to build rapport with the students and clearly signal: Look, I'm adapting just fine!
"Should we start clubs of our own?"
Urgency took hold. The thought of falling behind made their demonkin instincts surge.
Always, without exception — competition. Even if the other party was more precious and closer than a blood sister, the moment you shared something as vital as your own life, the racial instinct was to fight first and sort it out later.
Hearing Marmar's suggestion, Sitri fell into brief thought. A club. Founding a new club…
"…No."
"What?"
"Founding a new club probably won't have as big an impact as Ashu's."
"Why not? Just look at the Magic Club…"
"How did Ashu set up the start of that Magic Club, Mar?"
"She used her own position and Oraboni's, didn't she?"
Sitri nodded as if to say that was the correct answer. Then she quietly looked at Marmar — the kind of look that said, I've said this much; you can roughly guess what comes next, can't you?
"…Ah."
Marmar was a Demon King whose intelligence far exceeded the ordinary. She instantly grasped what the other meant and let out a sigh.
"Using the same approach won't get us the same level of attention and results."
"Mm. Exactly. Playing a card that's already been used won't get us as far as Ashu did."
"Then…"
"Instead of founding new ones, the best move is to just join existing clubs."
Marmar and Sitri nodded at each other. In both Demon Kings' minds, the scenes that would follow painted themselves in rapid strokes.
Each of them settling into a student club as if to declare their commitment to Academy life. Getting along with the students without friction, watching the wariness and hostility that had poured over them gradually fade away.
Living like that, meeting Lethe's expectations — and someday, him smiling brightly and saying, That's my girls! Well done! Yes. That was how it would go. There was no sweeter future than this! This was it!!
"El! Right now, we need to find those clubs and—"
Marmar's words trailed off. Because of the silver-haired Demon King sitting right beside her.
More precisely, because her gaze had locked onto the single sheet of paper in El's hand.
"…El?"
"Already done."
"You've already joined a club?!"
"Mm."
"Wh-where?!"
"Art Club. I'll draw him. Lethe. Better."
As if having first place stolen wasn't enough to make them anxious — now second place was gone too. The remaining two Demon Kings scrambled off in a frantic rush to find clubs that suited them.