The Main Heroine's Sworn Enemy
A father's only daughter was murdered. The killer fled but was eventually apprehended by the police.
Years passed, and the killer served his sentence. On the very day of his release, the girl's father tracked him down and stabbed him to death, just as his daughter had been killed.
After being arrested, the grieving father spoke to the police. "Until today, I lived for one purpose and one purpose only: to kill that bastard."
Overwhelmed by the grief and emptiness of losing his only child, he had tried to take his own life multiple times. But each time, the face of his daughter's murderer flashed before his eyes, preventing him from pulling the trigger.
He felt that if he died like that, he wouldn't be able to face his daughter in the afterlife. So, instead of dying himself, he resolved to kill the murderer.
Driven solely by a burning desire for vengeance, he clung to life for ten long years.
Many people advise letting go of anger and resentment, warning that such toxic emotions only ruin one's life. They tell you to forget and move on.
But sometimes, rage is the only engine that keeps a person moving forward.
"Take it back."
The girl standing before me right now was the perfect example. Just moments ago, her eyes had been dull and hollow, completely devoid of the will to live. But now, they blazed with a fierce, unmistakable fury.
"Take back what you said about Lucas."
Just a minute ago, this was supposed to be a warm welcome for the new transfer student, complete with polite applause. Instead, a single bombshell from said transfer student had completely flipped the classroom upside down.
And naturally, that bombshell-dropping transfer student was me.
Every eye in the room darted back and forth between Isabel and me. The other students watched in sheer bewilderment as she stood up, trembling with rage.
In the past year, none of them had ever seen Isabel show such intense anger. Even her closest friends didn't dare utter a word. The sheer pressure of her wrath was that suffocating.
"Lucas?" I, on the other hand, tilted my head with an air of perfect innocence. "Who's that?" It was a gesture custom-tailored to push her over the edge.
"The party leader you just insulted!" Isabel ground her teeth so hard I could hear the screech. "That leader was my childhood friend, Lucas." She offered this explanation as a final act of mercy. Her eyes practically pleaded with me: If this was a mistake, I'll let it slide just this once. So apologize. Now.
"Ah," I let out a soft gasp, feigning a sudden realization. Just as the other students began to sigh in relief, thinking I was about to apologize, I dropped the second bomb. "No thanks."
"You—!"
"Isabel, that's enough. Hanon, you too." Before Isabel could lunge at me, Professor Beganor stepped in. Standing between us, she let out a heavy sigh and jerked her chin toward the back of the room with an expression of pure annoyance.
"Hanon, don't go causing trouble the second you arrive. Go find an empty seat and sit down."
"Yes, ma'am," I replied instantly. I walked up the tiered steps of the classroom and slipped into a vacant desk.
Naturally, Isabel's murderous glare followed me every step of the way. Her face was flushed with a rage so intense she looked like she might burst.
Terrifying. To be honest, it was genuinely scary. I had rarely been the target of such raw, unadulterated hatred in my entire life. To make matters worse, Isabel was one of my favorite main heroines from the game.
As the main heroine, it was only natural to feel attached to her. Being hated by her like this stung my heart. But right now, this was absolutely necessary.
Just like the epilogue of the bad ending warned: the moment she chose suicide, this world would truly be doomed.
I have to endure this. It was all to survive in a world after the bad ending. As I steeled my resolve, I felt another gaze lingering on me.
Following the sensation, I turned my head and locked eyes with a black-haired girl. She possessed a beauty so striking it commanded instant admiration. Her sharp, upturned eyes gave her the elegant air of a noble cat, complemented by the high bridge of her nose and perfectly delicate lips.
The Ultimate Villainess. The Third Princess of the Empire, Iris Haishirion. She was watching me.
Did I draw too much attention? Knowing the dark secrets Iris harbored, I quickly averted my gaze. In a way, she was a character who could easily be considered the final boss of the game.
It's too early to get involved with her. When I looked away, Iris turned her head as well. It seemed she had only glanced at me out of brief curiosity sparked by my sudden outburst.
Isabel's glare, however, remained firmly locked onto me. This is spine-chilling. Could I really pull this off? It was certainly an unforgettable first impression.
In the world of Demon Palace Academy Slayer, there were six academies in total. Their shared, ultimate objective was simple: to train "students" capable of holding back the threat sealed within the subterranean Demon Palace—the ancient evil known as Akjon.
The reason they have to train students is straightforward. No one over the age of nineteen could enter the subterranean Demon Palace. This was due to a curse laid by its master, Akjon.
Thinking about it now, it makes Akjon look like some pathetic creep targeting teenagers, but the lore actually had a pretty solid justification for it.
From beyond his seal, Akjon projected his malice to create Apostles. When first born, these Apostles were incredibly weak. However, within the unique environment of the Demon Palace, they underwent continuous metamorphoses, growing exponentially stronger.
By the time they completed their final metamorphosis and were ready to emerge from the depths, they would have transformed into absolute monsters capable of slaughtering the world's greatest heroes.
It took exactly twenty years for an Apostle to fully mature. But Apostles were greedy creatures. To prevent them from lingering inside to hoard more of Akjon's power after maturing, the rules of the Demon Palace forced them out to the surface the moment their twenty-year incubation period ended.
This was a deliberate mechanism. To continue feeding on Akjon's power, the expelled Apostles had no choice but to desperately work toward breaking their master's seal from the outside.
This rule applied to humans as well. Once a human turned twenty, the laws of the Demon Palace barred them from entering. Since Apostles were at their weakest when newly born, humanity decided to strike them down before they could mature. To do this, they had to send teenagers into the depths. Thus, the six academies were established.
From age sixteen to nineteen, students spent three years training to delve into the Demon Palace. Any family whose child distinguished themselves in the depths would reap immense glory. Nations would laud them as the birthplaces of heroes, showering the households with absolute political and financial backing.
Consequently, the student body was overwhelmingly aristocratic. Countless noble children flocked to the academies, eager to bring glory to their names. For the honor of their houses, and to protect the world, these students dedicated themselves to their training.
"That's all for today." Professor Beganor, having finished her lecture on combat theory, let out a massive yawn and turned around. Judging by her expression, she was already planning her next trip to the tavern.
"Oh, and we have our usual mock battles coming up soon, so keep that in mind." With that final remark, Beganor strolled out of the classroom.
Thud! At that exact moment, a loud noise echoed from one of the front desks. The other students, who had been anticipating this, began exchanging nervous glances. The source of the noise was Isabel Luna.
Lucas's childhood friend. Her face was contorted with a fury so dark she looked like a vengeful demon. Having waited impatiently for the class to end, she tucked her textbook under her arm and began to march. Her destination, naturally, was me.
She looks murderous. Should I run? The sheer hostility radiating from her was enough to make me seriously consider it. But I couldn't run. I had to become Isabel's sworn enemy. At least until we graduated, she needed a reason to cling to life.
Beyond that, I simply wanted her to live. Having played through the Flame Butterfly Chapter countless times, I had grown deeply attached to her. She was the poster girl of that arc. The thought of her dying was something I couldn't bear.
"Hanon Airey." Her voice rang out cold and sharp. In this world, addressing someone by their full name was a way to signal extreme gravity. I glanced at her, then pushed back my chair and stood up.
"Do you need something?"
"I'm going to say this one more time. Apologize right now for insulting Lucas, and for insulting the friends who fought by his side."
The rest of the class watched with bated breath. While most were worried, having never seen Isabel this angry, a few looked on with sheer curiosity. They wanted to see how this transfer student, who had dropped a bomb on his very first day, would handle the fallout.
I swept a casual gaze over the onlookers before turning back to Isabel. "Like I said," I replied, my face entirely expressionless, "no."
Isabel's eyes widened. She trembled, practically vibrating with rage. "Lucas and the others fought that Apostle with everything they had! What did they do wrong?!"
"I already told you. They dragged Jerion Academy's reputation through the mud."
"Over something as trivial as that?!"
"Trivial?" I narrowed my eyes and took a step closer to her. Perhaps because I was pushing back harder than she expected, Isabel flinched slightly.
There was barely any height difference between us—in fact, Isabel was actually a bit taller. But the sheer pressure I exuded made physical stature entirely irrelevant. I had rehearsed this moment in my head dozens of times. If I backed down here, Isabel would die. I couldn't afford to lose this battle of wills.
"Do you honestly not understand how Jerion Academy's reputation was built?" I took another step forward, my brow furrowed. "The world is constantly threatened by the Demon Palace. And that threat falls heaviest not on us nobles, but on the commoners."
If Isabel was going to fight with emotion, I had to counter with cold, hard logic.
"When the common people are afraid, that fear breeds resentment toward the nobility. It shakes the very foundations of our nations, and ultimately, the world. Our duty as nobles is to ensure those people can live without fear. The six academies exist as symbols of that security. And Jerion Academy is the absolute pinnacle of them all."
For the past twenty years, not a single first-year student at Jerion Academy had died. In other words, this incident was an unprecedented disaster.
"This tragedy didn't happen at some second-rate school. It happened at Jerion Academy, where only the elite of the elite gather. Do you actually understand the implications of that?"
The Demon Palace had grown far more dangerous. Perhaps students could no longer hold it back. The world was doomed. That was how the public would interpret it. It was an exaggeration, of course, but the seed of doubt planted in the minds of the citizens reading the newspapers was very real.
Fear was a stray spark. It might seem small, but if it landed on dry straw, it could burn down the entire kingdom. That was why Jerion Academy had to remain invincible, an absolute truth. It could never afford to show weakness.
"Lucas and his little friends committed a catastrophic failure."
Isabel stared at me, her eyes wide and hollow. Beneath her shock lay a deep, visceral disgust. "...People died," she whispered, biting her lower lip so hard it turned white. Tears began to pool in her eyes. "My friend died."
Her childhood friend, whom she had grown up with her entire life, was gone. To her, it must have felt like half of her world had collapsed.
"And you call that a failure?" Heavy tears finally spilled over, tracing wet paths down her cheeks. "I refuse to accept a world like that. Lucas didn't fail. He fought with everything he had, and he defeated the Apostle."
She took a step closer, closing the distance until we were practically nose-to-nose, glaring fiercely at each other.
"I will make you acknowledge Lucas. I will make you apologize."
"I'm sorry, but that's never going to happen."
Reaching a complete impasse, Isabel spun on her heel and stormed out of the classroom. The moment the door slammed shut, the suffocating tension in the room began to dissipate.
"Whoa, Isabel was terrifying."
"I had no idea she could get that angry."
While some students whispered among themselves, several girls quickly stood up and rushed out after her.
"Isabel, wait up!"
"Scumbag."
"Is he even human?"
They threw venomous glares at me as they passed. I had officially earned their absolute contempt. No doubt they were going to tear me to shreds behind my back.
It's fine. I'm used to being hated. Of course, that was complete bullshit. No one ever gets used to being hated. But this was the only way my brain could figure out how to handle this.
At the very least, Isabel would now do whatever it took to force an apology out of me. That was enough. I had managed to slap a temporary band-aid on her will to live.
Now, onto the next task. The 3rd-year vice president, the Dragon Daughter of Calamity. The final boss of Act 3 in this first semester of our second year. The woman who held one of the three worst bad endings—the Ancient Dragon bad ending. It was time to go meet her.