Ryland wakes with a jolt, gasping for air as he realizes he is back to the start of the loop. His heart races, pounding in his chest like a wild drum. His body is drenched in a cold sweat, trembling with the aftermath of the shock he had just experienced.
The same room, the same loop... Yet everything feels different. The familiar surroundings seem foreign, tainted by the memory of his recent death. His gaze falls on his hands, expecting to see the burns from the magical onslaught. But there are none. His mind spins, trying to reconcile the paradox.
The echo of Arcturus and Lysandra's words sends a chill down his spine. Had they truly killed him? The certainty of his memories clashes with the reality of his unharmed body. His chest feels tight with anxiety as he struggles to comprehend the implications.
His mind flashes back to the moment when the magical blasts struck him, the pain, the darkness. A shiver runs through him, a raw fear seeping into his bones. He remembers their faces - regret on Lysandra's, resolution on Arcturus's. They had made their choice. Just as he had made his.
This nightmare of a loop may not be his end, but rather a twisted opportunity. Each time he falls, he will rise again, stronger, smarter.
Ryland sat on the edge of his bed, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. His hands clenched and unclenched in his lap, his gaze focused on nothing in particular. The newfound knowledge about mana was like a missing puzzle piece, something that had always been there but he had never noticed.
He remembered Razar's touch, the surge of mana, the sudden revelation. The sight of mana streaking through the air, invisible strands of power twirling around everything. The world, seen through the lens of a demon's eyes.
Even now, without the boon, he could sense the traces of it. The soft hum of magic in the walls, the crackle of energy in the air. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his senses. It was still there, just beneath the surface of reality, a hidden layer that only the demons seemed to understand.
The implications of this knowledge were staggering. This was a fundamental truth about the world, a secret of the universe that humanity had been blind to. And now, Ryland was privy to it, gifted the forbidden knowledge by a demon.
This opened a whole new avenue of possibilities. Magic wasn't simply a force to be wielded, it was an intrinsic part of the world around them. The ability to perceive and manipulate mana directly could revolutionize the way magic was used.
----------------------------------------
Ryland moved swiftly through the corridors, his senses alert for the familiar presence of Professor Thornquist. The chaos of the earlier loops was still etched into his mind - the panicked voices, the sudden fear, the confusion - but this time, everything felt different. He felt calmer, more prepared. More determined.
With each passing minute, the urgency of the call-to-arms announcement seemed to sink into the other students. Hallways that had once been filled with leisurely conversations and laughter were now thrumming with the anxious energy of a hive readying for battle.
"Have you seen Professor Thornquist?" he asked anyone who crossed his path, but all he received were shaking heads and worried glances. Thornquist seemed to have disappeared just when Ryland needed him the most. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of worry and frustration building within him.
Every second mattered now. He had to find Thornquist. He ran to the professor quarters, hoping to see him there.
----------------------------------------
Ryland felt a cold knot of fear form in his gut as he stepped into Thornquist's room, his eyes quickly scanning the unconscious professor on the floor. There was no blood, no signs of a struggle, no visible wounds. His brow furrowed, confusion momentarily replacing his fear.
"Professor!" he exclaimed, rushing to kneel beside Thornquist's motionless body. He extended a shaky hand, pressing his fingers against the professor's neck in search of a pulse. The steady throb beneath his fingertips was a small relief, but it did nothing to explain Thornquist's current state.
Whatever was happening, it was like Thornquist was in a magically induced sleep.
Ryland sat back on his heels, his mind racing. He had seen Thornquist fend off even the strongest magical attacks. Whatever had managed to render him unconscious was powerful, and likely dangerous.
He looked around the room, searching for anything out of place, anything that could explain what happened to Thornquist. But everything was as it should be, neat and orderly, save for the professor unconscious on the floor.
----------------------------------------
With swift movements, Ryland slipped the professor's charm off from around Thornquist's neck, a guilty feeling in his gut. He knew it was wrong, but right now, he didn't have the luxury of being honorable. The charm had been a great asset in past loops, and it would be useful again.
With one last look at his unconscious professor, Ryland turned on his heel and bolted out the door, the ward shimmering back into place behind him. He sprinted down the hallways, his mind a whirl of thoughts and theories. The academy was in danger, Thornquist was down, and he was probably the responsible for it.
But he had no time to feel guilty, no time to wallow in uncertainty. He had to prepare himself, had to make sure he survived.
----------------------------------------
Ryland's breath hitched as the hum of powerful magic filled the Great Hall. A swirling portal opened up in the middle of the room, shimmering with a blinding light. He squinted against the brightness, shielding his eyes with an arm as he tried to make sense of the figures stepping out of the magical gateway.
First, he saw the unmistakable form of Lilith, a smirk playing on her lips as her gaze swept across the hall. Behind her emerged The Scriber, an air of mysterious composure encasing him like a cloak. His piercing gaze scanned their surroundings as he followed Lilith's steps. Lastly, stepping out from the brilliant light was The Enforcer, his powerful frame emanating an aura of danger and strength.
The sight was shocking. Not only because of their sudden appearance, but because it deviated from everything Ryland knew. The portal, their arrival in the Great Hall – it had never happened in any of his previous loops.
----------------------------------------
The ringing echo of the Demons' voices reverberated through the Great Hall, demanding surrender from those within the Academy's confines. Ryland knew that the exterior wards were designed to protect against a frontal assault, but the Demons had bypassed these with their portal. They had chosen the perfect moment to strike; with most of the teachers and fifth-year students engaged in combat outside, the inner sanctum of the academy was left relatively undefended.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Ryland's mind raced, cataloging the sparse defensive spells he knew, but he realized the futility of it all. He was severely outclassed, and he understood the price of resistance all too well. The demons had offered a simple choice: kneel or die. His knowledge from the previous loops gave him clarity.
Without hesitation, he fell to his knees on the cold stone floor, bowing his head in a display of submission. The humiliation of the gesture stung, but he knew it was necessary. The desire for survival outweighed his pride.
----------------------------------------
The Enforcer's actions left a chilling silence in their wake, a grim testament to the sheer power of the Demon trio. As student after student followed Ryland's example, surrendering to the apparent inevitability of the situation, Lilith and The Scriber began their grim march through the Academy halls.
With merciless precision, they rooted out the remaining faculty members, their powerful magics tearing through the Academy's defenses. The teaching staff, even those renowned for their magical prowess, stood little chance against the coordinated onslaught.
Their questions echoed ominously through the desolate corridors, always seeking one name: Professor Thornquist. The normally boisterous Academy was eerily silent, save for the chilling call for the absent professor.
Ryland, still kneeling amidst the assembled students, watched this grim spectacle unfold. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Thornquist was incapacitated in his quarters, and Ryland was the only one who knew.
----------------------------------------
As Lilith, The Scriber, and The Enforcer pushed open the door to Professor Thornquist's quarters, an air of solemnity fell over them. There, laid out on the floor was the once vibrant and vivacious man, now lifeless, his skin pallid and cold to the touch.
The Scriber moved swiftly to Thornquist's side, its strange, arcane eyes glowing as it examined him. After a few tense moments, it broke the silence. "The professor has fallen prey to his own machinations," it intoned, its voice as cold and indifferent as ever. "He managed to reach out beyond the confines of our plane to make contact with a power that should have been left undisturbed."
Lilith and The Enforcer listened in grave silence as The Scriber continued, "His soul has been drained, consumed by the entity he managed to contact."
Lilith's expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on the lifeless form of the professor. "Then it is as we suspected. His reckless actions have cost him his life and put us all in jeopardy."
Turning away from the sight, she addressed the other two demons. "We must act swiftly. The seal has been breached once, and it won't be long before we have to face the consequences of his folly."
----------------------------------------
The Great Hall of the Academy, usually brimming with joviality and the sounds of numerous conversations, was now ominously silent. Only the soft rustle of the students nervously shifting could be heard echoing off the ancient stone walls. Fear hung heavy in the air, its palpable weight pressing down on everyone present.
Suddenly, a deep, guttural growl reverberated through the Hall as a portal erupted into existence. From it, a figure stepped forth, his imposing presence filling the space. It was Argoth, the Demon Prince, his eyes radiating an intense, fiery glow. The regal armor he wore shone in the dim light, the gemstones adorning it twinkling like a dark night sky. His mere presence commanded respect, and a wave of fear ran through the students.
Behind Argoth, Lilith, The Scriber, and The Enforcer followed, their sinister presence adding to the tension that had seized the Hall. As they moved to join Argoth, the students watched in a mix of awe and terror, the chilling reality of their situation sinking in. The demons were in control now, and the future was uncertain.
----------------------------------------
As before, the Demon Prince Argoth took control of the Great Hall. With a display of brutal authority, he set an example by subjecting Lysandra to a merciless beating from his Enforcer. The sight of her helpless form, quivering in agony, seared itself into the minds of the students and staff, a brutal reminder of their new reality.
Argoth continued his reign of terror by bringing forth a fatally injured student, speaking scornfully about the human institution's so-called lies about the demon race. He demonstrated his power by miraculously healing the student, showing the crowd a different side of magic.
An offer of alignment was laid on the table. With the promise of survival and power, Argoth challenged the captives, bringing forth a former academy student who had disappeared years ago as proof of their potential fate, Razar. He was the embodiment of the pact, now standing tall and powerful, an intimidating ally of the demons. The Demon Prince's words echoed through the Great Hall, creating a chilling atmosphere of despair and an unsettling sense of temptation.
Argoth's message was clear: Align with the demons, gain unimaginable power and survive, or resist and face annihilation.
----------------------------------------
As Argoth's chilling words reverberated in the hall, Ryland's mind was whirling with thoughts. His only ally, Thornquist, was lost, and the demons seemed to have an upper hand in this war. His personal power was growing, but so was the demons'.
The stakes were rising faster than he had anticipated. It was as if the demons had kicked the game into overdrive, escalating their plans and pushing the students and faculty of the academy into an increasingly desperate situation.
Conflicting emotions swirled within Ryland as he gazed upon the crowd of familiar faces. Once, he had seen them as nothing more than his friends, his peers, fellow students he shared countless hours of study and laughter with. Now, however, his view was clouded by the brutal reality of the loop.
Lysandra and Arcturus had been the ones to deal the killing blow in the last loop, not the demons. They were the ones who had seen him as a traitor, who had sentenced him to his death. The memory of their betrayal stung, a bitter reminder of the harsh consequences of his attempts to change the course of events.
But could he blame them? After all, he had appeared as a traitor to them, aligning himself with the very creatures they were taught to fight against. Yet he knew he had no other choice. He was willing to bear their scorn, their accusations, even their attacks, if it meant he could somehow break this devastating cycle.
As he stood among them, Ryland couldn't help but wonder: How many of them would make the same decision if they were in his shoes? Would they be willing to sacrifice their integrity, their friendships, their place within the academy for a chance to make a difference?
Despite his internal turmoil, Ryland knew he could not afford to dwell on these questions. He needed power, and time was a luxury he did not possess.
----------------------------------------
Ryland moved purposefully through the crowd of students, his gaze fixed on Lilith. Her dark, enchanting eyes were fixed on him as he approached. She watched him, a hint of intrigue glimmering in her gaze as she sensed his intentions.
Bowing before her in front of all his peers, Ryland declared, "I pledge my loyalty to you, Lilith, Queen among Demons. I ask for your guidance and strength to navigate through these dire times."
The room fell silent. The other students looked on, aghast at his brazen act. A few of them gasped audibly, their eyes wide in shock and disbelief. But Ryland didn't falter. He kept his gaze fixed on Lilith, his resolve unyielding.
Lilith studied him, her eyes taking in the determined set of his jaw, the resolve shining in his eyes. A smile slowly curved her lips, her eyes gleaming with amusement and approval. "Very well," she said, her voice resounding through the silent hall. "I accept your pledge, Ryland."
Ryland's decision had been made. He had chosen to stand with the Demons, in full view of his peers. It was a decision that was likely to earn him their scorn, perhaps even their hatred. But he didn't care. He was ready to bear their contempt, their anger, their accusations. If this was what it took to end the loop and save the academy, then he was willing to bear the consequences. He had chosen his path, and now, he was ready to walk it.
----------------------------------------
As Lilith placed her hand on his shoulder, Ryland felt the surge of power coursing through his body. It was an exhilarating sensation, like a jolt of energy sparking his very cells. His senses were heightened, his reflexes quickened, his strength amplified. He felt powerful, ready to take on anything that would come his way.
There was a murmur amongst the crowd of students as they watched the transformation unfold before their eyes. Some looked on in fear, others in silent awe, while a few glared at him with unbridled hostility.
Then Lilith held out a black and red armband and the crowd watched in silent horror.
Lilith's voice echoed through the Great Hall, her words ringing out clearly amidst the stunned silence. "Ryland," she began, her gaze falling on him. "Your duties are to enforce discipline. Ensure that everyone here adheres to our rules. Any act of disobedience will not be tolerated. Show them what happens when they defy us."
Ryland could feel the weight of the armband as he took it from Lilith. It felt heavy in his hand, not so much because of its physical mass, but because of what it represented. This was not just a piece of cloth. It was a symbol of authority, of power. It marked him as an enforcer, a disciplinarian.
As he fastened the armband around his arm, the room filled with murmurs. Some were shocked, others outraged. They couldn't believe that one of their own had chosen to side with the enemy. But Ryland ignored their whispers, their glares. He stood tall and firm, determined to fulfill his duties, to enforce the rules that Lilith had laid out.