Placement Exam (Interlude)
The Academy had been attacked by a demon.
The mere fact that the Academy, heralded as one of the safest havens on the entire continent, had suffered an assault at the hands of a demon was more than enough to plunge the entire realm into turmoil. The headmaster's barrier, an absolute sanctuary that had never once been breached no matter the crisis, could no longer be trusted.
Because of this, the Emperor issued a proclamation urging all kingdoms to unite in an alliance, but their stances were far from receptive. In the distant past, during the fierce War of Conquest that had driven the entire world to the brink of ruin, the Empire had committed an unforgivable blunder. Kingdoms had been devastated near the point of annihilation or erased from existence entirely, and in the chaos of that war, humanity had been left utterly defenseless against the sudden invasion of the Demon King's army. Those scars had never fully healed. The surrounding kingdoms had banded together, pushing forward the argument that the Empire and the Holy Kingdom alone should bear full responsibility for the brewing crisis.
The Empire maintained that if a demon could pierce a barrier cast by the Archmage herself, every race and nation on the continent needed to unite at once. Conversely, the coalition of kingdoms insisted that the Empire and the Holy Kingdom should step forward and subjugate the Demon King on their own. Borders meant nothing to the terror gripping ordinary folk, who now lived under the dread of when the next demon might strike, while anxious aristocrats went so far as to summon their children home from the Academy. Although the crisis had been resolved without a single casualty thanks to the presence of the Hero and the Saint, the mere fact that an attack had penetrated the heart of the Academy remained a grave disaster. This was a time when all factions ought to set aside their differences and stand as one, yet the kingdoms' stubborn insistence that the Empire bear the blame was causing an agonizing headache.
"Urrgh..."
Carlos Arhen, reigning Emperor of the Arhen Empire, felt as though he were going out of his mind. Ever since his ancestors committed that catastrophic error centuries ago, the Empire had shouldered the burden of holding back the Demonic Realm, a frozen northern frontier crawling with monstrous abominations. It was not for leisure that the northern Grand Duchy of Pernian had established its domain along the frontier and defended it tirelessly for generations. Though Carlos knew an emperor should never utter such thoughts aloud, he wanted nothing more than to bash the heads of those conniving kings together. Why on earth did the Demon King have to resurrect now, of all times—and right in the middle of his own reign?
To make matters worse, those greedy kingdoms were so consumed with petty self-interest that they refused to lend a hand, even with total annihilation looming on the horizon. The throbbing ache in his temples would not subside. In all his years on the throne, he had never once regretted inheriting the imperial crown, yet for the first time in his life, bitter regret gnawed at him. Still, the sins of his forebears did not absolve him of duty. Having inherited the mantle of the sovereign, it fell squarely upon his shoulders to ensure his people did not live in ceaseless terror.
"Uriel..."
Thinking of his youngest daughter, who had ventured to the Academy out of an earnest desire to become a knight, the Emperor let out a weary sigh and pressed a hand against his brow. It was only natural for a father to worry when a demon had infiltrated the school, but as emperor, he could not display such weakness. Furthermore, there was far too much for the girl to learn there; he could hardly order her to abandon her studies and return home. Besides, his reasons for sending her there extended beyond simple tutelage.
The Saint...
The contemporary Saint chosen by the Holy Kingdom resided at the Academy. More than that, reports confirmed she had prevented what could have been an unspeakable catastrophe. Though he had never met her in person, the Empire was already deeply indebted to her for having saved countless soldiers along the Demonic Realm. From a purely humanitarian standpoint, she was not someone who should ever be wielded as a political pawn. No matter how many unforgivable deeds emperors throughout history had committed, dragging a holy maiden into worldly maneuvering—especially given diplomatic ties with the Holy Kingdom—felt vile. Yet Carlos had no other recourse. To forge an alliance, the cooperation of the kingdoms was an absolute necessity, and to sway them, he had no choice but to utilize the Saint. He could not permit the tragedies of the past to repeat themselves; he had to leverage every asset at his disposal. Even if it was an ordeal far too cruel for a young girl to bear.
What the...
What happened...?
I had only meant to close my eyes for a quick second, but did I slip straight into slumber and lose consciousness entirely?
Ah...
More importantly, this place... looks very familiar.
An infirmary...?
Up until a moment ago, I was clearly in that underground dungeon where the boss monster was supposed to be. And yet here I was in a hospital room.
Is it all over...?
Seeing as I was lying here, things seemed to have sorted themselves out. If I hadn't managed to turn Albert back to normal, I wasn't entirely sure what would have happened, but I certainly wouldn't be resting peacefully in an infirmary bed.
It's a relief that it worked out, but...
The most important question still remained.
Evan.
What happened to Evan?
"Ngh..."
Driven by the urge to find him, I moved to sit up, only to flinch as a throbbing ache—no, an electrifying rush of intense pleasure—rippled through my entire frame.
Ah... haven't I fully recovered yet?
Well, it made sense. Even with an immortal authority that defied death, my body still required an adequate reservoir of divine power to function properly. In other words, remaining alive and incapable of dying was one thing, but without the divine energy to mend myself, I couldn't regenerate properly. Having died over and over again to the point of blacking out from sheer, overwhelming ecstasy, it was hardly surprising that my divine power was completely drained.
Based on what I'd experienced in the Demonic Realm, whenever my divine power ran dry, I lingered in a half-dead state until enough holy energy trickled back to support my consciousness, at which point I would finally wake.
Wait... then just how much time has passed?
I needed to check how long I'd been out. Steeling my resolve, I forced my upper body upward. A silent scream of tingling delight shot through every nerve in response, but this was no time to lose myself in shallow physical indulgence.
I had to find out what happened to Evan. If Evan had survived the demon's ambush, he ought to have been placed in this infirmary, yet for some reason, he was nowhere in the vicinity.
Did he wake up before me...?
If he had recovered and gotten up ahead of me, then I might have been out cold for several days. Honestly, I had died far more times in that brief span than during days spent roaming the Demonic Realm, so replenishing that spent divine power must have taken a fair bit of time. The real issue was that I had no idea what day it was. First, I needed to ascertain how many days had slipped by, then confirm Evan was safe and—
"...Aria?"
—and right then...
Whose thought waves were these?
"[...Sister Stella...?]"
The moment Stella saw me awake, she froze in her tracks. Seeing her wide-eyed, petrified reaction sent a slight chill down my spine... but that was just my imagination, right? Saint concept or not, my divine power recovery couldn't possibly be that slow.
Probably...
Fortunately—if one could call it that—not all that much time had passed. Honestly, I'd prepared myself for a week, so barely three days wasn't catastrophic. Although learning it had been three days instead of just one was a bit startling...
I guess I just passed out from pure exhaustion, so it makes sense...
Anyone would be drained after enduring sensations severe enough to kill a normal person hundreds of times over. It had been an educational experience, proving that even for an extreme masochist like me, an overload of pleasure could eventually feel like torture...
From Stella's perspective, however, seeing me remain comatose for three solid days had driven her half out of her mind with worry. She told me she had come by every single day the moment classes ended to watch over me, praying desperately that I would open my eyes.
"[I am deeply sorry for causing you such worry, Sister...]"
Dying once or twice only knocked me out for a fleeting instant; the moment my head regenerated, consciousness returned. But when lethal trauma stacked up continuously, even I required rest. It was just that this particular rest had lasted a little longer than usual... Still, seeing as she'd worn herself out on my account, an apology was in order. At my earnest words, Stella jumped in surprise, hurriedly shaking her hands and insisting she was truly fine.
But more importantly, I hadn't asked the crucial question yet.
"[Um... by any chance, how is Brother Evan...?]"
"He's healthy. Shockingly healthy, in fact."
"[Ah...]"
What a relief. I must have lost my mind in all that ecstatic agony back then to entertain such absurd thoughts. If Evan died, subjugating the Demon King would be permanently off the table—and an unvanquished Demon King was practically synonymous with the end of the world.
It really was a relief...
"[I am truly... so glad...]"
Breathing a sigh of genuine relief, I offered a soft, heartfelt smile.