The Demonic Realm (1)
In the northern reaches of the Empire, where howling blizzards raged without cease, lay the farthest edge of the frozen wasteland known as the Demonic Realm—a desolation where only death lay in wait.
There spanned a colossal gorge, gouged and twisted as though crushed under the weight of some unfathomable cataclysm. Its true depth was impossible to gauge, and the pitch-black abyss below teemed with countless horrors from the Demon Realm, earning it the dread moniker of the Weeping Cliff.
Built along its sheer precipice, stretching from the canyon's rim all the way into the depths below, stood a sprawling settlement.
"Great Elder, a message has arrived from our spy at the Academy."
Inside a dim chamber lit only by the flickering glow of a candle that threatened to sputter out at any moment, a man dropped to one knee and spoke in hushed tones.
"Students from Arhen Academy are traveling here on a field excursion as part of their examination."
Hearing this, the elderly man continued offering his prayers, replying in a quiet, measured voice, "Do you recall the words spoken by the Light of the Earth that Illuminates the Dusk?"
"I do."
"Soon... the Beast of the End that Calls the Frost will emerge from the Prison of Permafrost, deep within the gorge of this Haven of Frost."
"..."
The kneeling scout swallowed dryly in silence.
It was a monstrous beast of antiquity that had once swallowed the northern expanse of the Empire whole. Bearing the title 'Lord of the Polar Expanse,' it was an abominably cunning predator reigning over the frigidmost domain of the Demon Realm. Though centuries had passed since it transformed the northern Empire into an unending purgatory of biting gales and blizzards, the dread it inspired remained indelible.
The scout's eyes trembled faintly.
"Have the ancient texts been found?"
"Yes. Word arrived moments ago that they were discovered."
At those words, the old man rose to his feet.
"Convene the council of elders."
Every preparation had to be made to hunt the Beast of the End.
War was about to descend upon this land once more.
"I'm so nervous," Stella muttered, though she didn't look up from her relentless magic research.
"Are we truly almost there? I can hardly wait..." Uriel chimed in, a radiant smile blooming across her face as if the prospect of reaching the Demonic Realm were the greatest joy in the world.
"..."
Meanwhile, Evan seemed to be channeling his nervous agitation in an entirely different direction, scrubbing down Estelle with a fervor that bordered on obsessive-compulsive.
—E-Evan... g-go easy on me, aah...!
"..."
What in the world am I watching right now?
Regardless of appearances, Estelle was female. It was just that Evan's power hadn't fully matured yet, preventing her from manifesting a humanoid form of condensed mana. But since her spirit was undeniably feminine, hearing her whimpering like that gave off a distinctly suggestive vibe. Of course, the one who ought to be flustered by that wasn't me, but Evan.
Sword-fucker...
No one else could hear it aside from her wielder, Evan, and me, since I perceived thought resonance. Did the sword forget I could pick up her telepathic voice? Every single time Evan polished her blade, she let out gasps and moans loud enough to tear down the heavens. Who on earth would ever believe that was a Holy Sword?
Then again, given the pristine saintly image I had to maintain, I couldn't very well speak up and tell Estelle to stop moaning like a wanton strumpet. In the end, I had no choice but to sit there in silence and endure Estelle's breathless squeals.
...To be honest, it didn't sound half bad.
First of all, let me make one thing crystal clear: I am not a sword-fucker. Sure, I've spent roughly two and a half years living as a girl named Aria Saint Anastasio, but I used to be a full-blooded guy before all this. And Holy Sword or not, Estelle was female, which meant her telepathic voice was gorgeous and melodious—the kind of sweet, feminine voice that made you think yep, definitely a girl the second you heard it.
So when a voice like that begged to be touched gently and moaned about how good it felt, could any red-blooded man honestly say it didn't do anything for him? Even if I was masquerading as a holy maiden, biology—or former biology—didn't just disappear...
Hnnngh... damn little vixen... so hot...
...
No, wait. Scrub that from the record.
"Something just occurred to me," Stella said, lifting her head from her research notes. She turned her gaze toward Uriel.
"What is on your mind?" Uriel asked, noticing Stella's inquisitive stare.
Studying Uriel intently, Stella murmured, "I've been thinking about this for a while now... but doesn't the Headmaster look an awful lot like you, Uriel?"
"...Pardon?"
"Come to think of it, yeah," Evan chimed in, turning toward Uriel as if he had harbored the exact same suspicion. "The hair color, the eyes... Could it be?"
Then, as if stumbling upon a crucial contradiction, a puzzled expression crossed his face.
"Wait, but isn't the Headmaster's name Arhen? That's her first name, not her family name."
"Maybe it's like, 'I am the Arhen Empire!' or something?"
"Pfft..."
'I am the Arhen Empire,' she says.
Stella's ridiculous quip was so funny that a snort slipped past my lips before I could stop myself. Realizing that might have come off as rude, I hurriedly turned my senses toward her, only to find that Stella looked oddly pleased.
...Wait, what? Why was she beaming like that?
Sometimes, I really couldn't comprehend Stella—maybe that was just the eccentricity of an Archmage in training. Right now was one of those moments. By all accounts, my chuckle had bordered on open mockery.
Does she actually enjoy being laughed at?
Well... nah, impossible. I decided not to dwell on it.
"Um... I do not know all the details myself, but... I was told she belongs to the Arhen line," Uriel confessed softly.
"...Wait a second. How long has it been since the Academy was founded?"
[In Imperial reckoning, it should be around 254 years...] I chimed in telepathically.
"And it's common knowledge that Headmaster Arhen was a member of the Hero Party during the Calamity War, right?"
"...No way."
Most people failed to realize it, but Headmaster Arhen and Uriel bore an uncanny resemblance to one another. Once the pieces were laid out, the conclusion became impossible to miss. While the others hadn't fully connected the dots yet, that vivid, deep-pink hair and matching eyes were living proof of imperial Arhen blood. In other words, Arhen Isis was...
"A-An ancestor...?"
Bingo. Exactly that.
Having arrived at the very same revelation, everyone froze. Uriel, in particular, appeared utterly disoriented. And frankly, who could blame her? Finding out that the eccentric headmaster of the academy you attended was actually your great-great-whatever grandmother from centuries ago was bound to break anyone's brain.
"Archmages... can live for an extremely long time... Headmaster Arhen is an ancient granny..." Meanwhile, Stella diligently jotted notes down as if she had just acquired invaluable academic wisdom.
What none of them seemed to realize, however, was a finer detail of imperial heraldry.
'Collateral branches of the Arhen imperial family also carry pink hair and eyes, but unlike direct descendants, their shades are far paler.'
Calling it pink was almost a stretch—it was closer to a white tint washed over with cherry blossom blush. Arhen's hair and eyes, on the other hand, were an unapologetic, pure magenta. Did they realize what that meant?
'She was an Imperial Princess in her own right, centuries ago.'
As far as I was concerned, that woman belonged in a museum as a protected national treasure. She was literally the only surviving human from that era.
'Well... not that I can see it anyway.'
Just once, I would love to witness the colors of this world with my own two eyes. Back in my old life, I had never given such things a second thought, but living as this Saintess, the longing had crept up on me more times than I could count.
'Haaah...'
Casting healing magic on myself wouldn't restore sight to blind eyes. If the divine authority of the Goddess itself couldn't cure them, no amount of healing spells ever would.
'If I master Divine Power Detection further, could I perceive colors too?'
Even if I couldn't see true hues, maybe I could learn to interpret light spectrum wavelengths and approximate the shades of what surrounded me. It was almost comical—channeling miraculous holy power, yet trying to process it through modern scientific theory.
"What do you think, Aria?"
[Ah... pardon?]
"About the Headmaster! The fact that she's actually royalty!"
Evan spoke with eager curiosity and delight. Because I received his words through thought resonance rather than mere sound, the pure fascination and amusement underlying his voice reached me with vivid clarity.
[Indeed. It truly is remarkable.]
Yeah. Truly remarkable.
'Poor guy...'
Still, what could be done? Since fate had chosen him as the Hero, if he wanted to survive, he had no choice but to push himself, grow stronger, slay the Demon King's Army Executives, exterminate demonic beasts, and ultimately vanquish the Demon King himself.
At least there was solace in knowing Arhen would be fighting alongside us in this subjugation.
'I've already warned them about what's coming...'
All that remained was to bring down that monster while minimizing casualties as much as possible. And to accomplish that, Evan's earnest dedication was non-negotiable.
He was going to be pushed to the brink soon enough. He had better enjoy this peace while it lasted.
Gradually, a chill began to seep into the air.
The time was drawing near.