After the useless revelation of divinity, Davis continues his Academy curriculum as normal. His curiosity about the divine faded away as quickly as it appeared, His jam-packed schedule kept his mind at bay from all the worry he had.

Unbeknownst to Davis, the darkness surrounding him slowly creeps up around him, waiting for the perfect time to strike. His days became repetitive and mundane as he spent most of his time studying the material the professor had taught him.

For the first time since the test, Davis encountered Kane again. Their lack of meetings prior was due to conflicting class schedules. "Mr. Davis, I haven’t seen you since the test. How have you been?" Kane inquired.

Davis replied wearily, "I need some rest, Kane," his voice devoid of energy. "It must've been tough on you! I'll take my leave now. Please take care of yourself," Kane bid farewell before departing.

As Davis made his way back to his dorm, he was surprised to see Rachel and Rowan training together. While both were known for their exceptional swordsmanship, it was unusual to witness them interacting outside of class.

Rowan noticed Davis's presence and waved at him, prompting Rachel to turn and follow suit. However, Davis, too exhausted to engage, merely forced a smile before silently departing.

Observing Davis's behavior, Rowan turned to Rachel. "Have you noticed that Davis has been acting strangely lately?" he inquired. Rachel, ever perceptive, understood that Davis was simply fatigued. Before she could respond, Rowan bombarded her with questions.

"W-what if he's upset that I didn't invite him to train together?" Rowan fretted, his voice laced with concern. "What if he's angry? That couldn't be, right, Miss Rachel?" Before Rachel could respond, he pressed on, his anxiety mounting.

"He must be angry. I've been a terrible friend!" Lost in his thoughts, Rowan stood there, while Rachel, unable to find the right words, simply sighed in defeat.

Aaron, observing the interaction from a distance within the same room, refrained from intruding. He admired Rowan's earnestness but hesitated when it came to Rachel and Davis, given the rarity of their Hybrid style.

One moonless night…

Vincent sat in a dark room, his eyes gazing calmly at the crystal as it shimmered a fainted glow. The light illuminated a small portion of Vincent’s table and his upper body part.

“Vincent,” The voice came in a booming tone, “Your task is long overdue, what the hell have you been doing in Celestia?” The voice came in a mixture of both anger and patience.

"Relax, Viper. You know me—I always complete my tasks," Vincent replied, his voice brimming with confidence. “I've acquired useful tools to help me achieve my mission.”

Viper fell silent for a few moments, listening carefully. "Besides, it's rather difficult to infiltrate the Celestial Academy right now," Vincent added, referring to Celestia's heightened security measures.

A long pause from both sides…

"Our lord will soon descend onto this mortal plane," Viper mentioned calmly. This sentence caused Vincent's expression to shift, his calm demeanor replaced by fear. "You mean—" Vincent stammered. Although Viper couldn't see him, he knew Vincent was terrified by the news.

Viper's voice came again, filled with authority. "Now that you understand the urgency of finding Fenrir, go and locate the boy. He's our only lead at the moment."

"Or shall I remind you of the consequences awaiting failure on your assigned mission?" Vincent's voice cut through the air, a stark reminder of his precarious situation. With those words, the crystal light dimmed, signaling the end of their long-distance communication.

Vincent slumped back into his chair, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He couldn't help but remember his first ill-fated encounter with his master.

Vincent was once a nameless wanderer, living day by day, fighting for mere scraps. Coming from a family of peasants in the Celestial Empire, he had been sold into slavery by his kin. Unbeknownst to them, his former master was a knight of the Royal family, ordered by the king to raise a legion of young assassins.

Vincent did as he was told, living each day as if it were his last. His unforgiving situation molded him into a sadistic and cruel individual. He found solace in torturing and tormenting his victims, using their suffering to escape his painful existence.

On a fateful day, after a triumphant return from a mission, Vincent and his comrades encountered a peculiar figure donning a lion mask in the forest on their route back to their hideout. Without a moment's hesitation, Vincent commanded his group to attack. However, one by one, they fell like flies before their enigmatic adversary.

"Is this the hunting dogs the Royal Family has raised?" the man sighed, disappointed by the fallen group. "And what about you, young man? Will you fight or will you run?" he asked, raising his hand to point at Vincent.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

The masked man was taken aback by Vincent's cold expression. Despite his youth, Vincent displayed no hint of fear—a demeanor the man had encountered all too often in his travels across this forsaken continent. "I see... you're already dead inside. Then come, show me your strength, boy."

Despite Vincent's valiant effort, he soon fell like his comrades before him. The night grew silent as the man effortlessly lifted Vincent onto his shoulder. "Let's return. This trip has been very fruitful," he declared. As he finished speaking, three other masked men emerged from the shadows, each wearing a unique mask of their own.

They disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. Vincent woke up in a dark cellar, his arm bound by metal chains connected to the wall. However, a gifted assassin like Vincent easily slipped out of his restraints with practiced ease.

He moved silently toward the only visible door, carefully scanning his surroundings before making a stealthy exit. He traversed the darkness until he reached the only illuminated room in the entire building.

The man in the lion mask sat at his table, seemingly waiting for Vincent. "You didn't run away?" he asked, "There's no point in running away when I'm being closely monitored like this," Vincent replied, his eyes skimming the room behind the lion mask.

The man chuckled before clapping his hands, and his three other associates entered the room, each wearing a unique mask: a snake, a dragon, and a tiger. Observing them, Vincent mockingly questioned the man wearing the lion mask, "Quite the fashion show you've got here. What's your game with me?"

The man behind the lion mask continued, his voice smooth and persuasive. "Straight to the point, I see. I like you more and more, Vincent. Tell me, are you tired of how this world treats the lower class, like us?" His demeanor exuded that of a seasoned politician. "I aim to transform this continent. I envision a world where everyone lives in peace and unity. I'll be their savior."

"I want you, Vincent, to join me on my quest. Together, we will achieve our grand plan," the man proudly proclaimed. Vincent was captivated by the man's boldness as he inquired, “So, you want my help to do what? Destroy Celestia?”

The man behind the lion mask and the others burst out laughing at his question. "No, no, my friend. That wouldn't do! If we destroy them, they'll simply be replaced by another. You're thinking too small," the man behind the lion mask chuckled.

"I’ll change this world itself by unifying every continent there is, one way or another," the masked man calmly laid out his plan, to which Vincent reacted in shock. "You're crazy. Even the five heroes of legend can't influence or do anything to the other continents. How are you going to do it?"

The room fell silent as the man behind the lion mask got up and walked past Vincent. "Follow me, Vincent. I'll show you!" Together, they walked into a dark room. Placing Vincent at the center, they began their ritual, drawing a circular symbol using blood and chanting. The room shook violently.

There, on the wall, as if the gate of the underworld itself had broken open, a tear in space appeared, and a voice boomed out, "My faithful follower, to what trouble must you call for me?" The others kneeled in respect, but Vincent was frozen in place, his eyes fixated on the fiery gate before him, mesmerized by its otherworldly beauty.

"Vincent, come join us in the service of the Lord. Embrace Lord Thanatyr, the harbinger of salvation," the Lion mask intoned, its words flowing like a sermon. Vincent was entranced by its beauty, yet his discerning eyes saw through its facade. "A devil," he whispered.

Vincent, wise to the deception, attempted to flee, but the gate seized him with an irresistible force, dragging him into its depths before sealing shut. Within, he endured unspeakable horrors of otherworldly nightmares, only to be ejected back into reality marked by the devil's emblem upon his chest.

Unable to withstand the torment, he pledges his allegiance to his new master. As his hand brushes against the mark, a scorching pain courses through his body, jolting him awake from his nightmare.

"What an unpleasant reminder of my sealed fate," Vincent spat, his words dripping with disdain. "This world will soon bow to a new master, wouldn’t you agree, my dearest human?" His gaze turned wild, his demeanor unhinged as he gracefully pivoted towards the other side of the room where two figures were bound and gagged, their eyes pleading in silent desperation.

"Davis… I hope you understand, I had no choice but to fulfill my duty," Vincent murmured as he approached his prisoner. "Your insights have been invaluable. Thank you, dear Royal Knight." With a swift motion, he slit their throat before departing.

Outside, Vincent stood amidst the chill of the night breeze, his expression as serene as a summer river. He turned to behold the brilliant moon in the sky. "What a beautiful night," he remarked softly. He found himself on a secluded farm outside the city, surrounded by the tranquility of the countryside.

As he bathed in the moonlight, one of his underlings emerged from the shadows behind him. Bowing respectfully, the subordinate had multiple devices for Vincent's inspection. "Hmm, very good. Have you discovered anything yet about the two strange incidents?" Vincent inquired, his praise for the object preceding his direct query.

"Apologies, Sir," the man began, "but your directive to investigate the peculiar deaths of the two knights and the massacre of Duke Darius's entire family remains shrouded in mystery for both us and the Celestial Empire investigation unit." He paused briefly before continuing, "However, concerning the knights' demise, we have located two witnesses."

Vincent's eyebrow arched with heightened curiosity. "Have you spoken to them yet?" he inquired further.

The man nodded. "Yes, sir. One of them is a young girl. She was unconscious during the entire ordeal, but her mother claimed they were rescued by a demon."

on its head? A kind-hearted demon, you say?" Once his laughter subsided, he turned away. "And what of the witnesses?" he inquired.

"Sir, as per your instructions, we refrained from harming the civilians," the underling replied. "However, it appears that even the investigation units are at an impasse in their inquiries."

"Good, good," Vincent remarked with a reassured smile, satisfied with the outcome. "Hand me the bracelet and set the bomb. We'll infiltrate Celestial Academy by force a week from now. Our main target is Davis Edwelt," he ordered before gracefully donning his mask and departing into the night.