The heat of the smoldering forest was oppressive, like a furnace that never shut off, and my weakened body felt every bit of it. Thankfully, the level-up refreshment took effect fast, washing the weakness away. The trees that were burned to skeletal husks stood as silent witnesses to the carnage. Ash floated around us, clinging to our skin, mixing with the sweat and blood that drenched my clothes.

My arm… my stump… ached with a sharp, throbbing pain now that my adrenaline flow was receding. It felt like my arm was being torn apart by a pit bull’s bite every other second.

But I had no time to focus on that.

Nebula and Solara rushed to my side. “Iskandaar, you—”

I interrupted their worried shout, “I’m fine...” I said, and the two of them fell silent beside me for a minute. I huffed, “Help me up.” They nodded, and their hands gripped my good arm, pulling me to my feet. My legs trembled beneath me as I stood, but I wasn’t about to fall.

I pushed through it and quickly pumped my Qi into the technique. I couldn’t drop [Eclipse of the Shadow Tyrant] yet, it had to stand for a bit more.

The blurry world that had almost returned fell back into darkness, and I heaved a sigh. The others sighed, too. They knew the consequences if the technique dropped.

“Burn my stump,” I rasped to Solara, my throat dry from the battle. “Stop the bleeding.”

Solara’s wings fluttered into the light. She acted as our sun, illuminating the area as she hesitated, her eyes locking onto the severed limb. Her lips parted as if to protest, but she nodded. “Alright,” she said quietly, stepping forward, her hand already igniting with flames. I braced myself for the pain to come.

But Nebula cut in before Solara could act, her voice sharp, laced with frustration. “...Stupid,” she muttered, grabbing my stump with both hands, her eyes focused in concentration. I watched as crimson energy flared around her fingers, swirling like a liquid mist as her blood magic surged to life.

The wound began to close, knitting itself together in a far less painful alternative to burning. Since the cut had been very straight and clean, at least it didn’t look gross.

I huffed, my brain too tired to process the immediate relief. I’d been so caught up in the heat of the moment I forgot that Nebula could do this. Blood Magic… It slipped my mind. Instead of preparing for the searing pain of cauterization, she took care of it with a simple touch.

I should’ve trusted her more, the thought gnawed at me. If I had, perhaps this situation could have been avoided entirely. I hadn’t told her anything. Not about my power, nor about my plans. Now, the consequences just increased a thousandfold.

Nebula, still focused on her task, muttered under her breath. “I have many questions,” she said, her voice low, eyes still fixed on my arm as the blood magic sealed the wound.

“So do I,” Solara chimed in, though her gaze wasn’t on me. She was looking at Nebula, her expression a mix of questions. “You’re a vampire?”

Nebula stiffened slightly at the question, but her eyes stayed glued to my stump. “Look, guys, this isn’t the time for that,” I said, nudging my chin toward Sir Likard’s lifeless body. His form lay slumped on the charred ground, still as stone. The metallic sheen of his armor, which once glowed with divine light, was now dulled by the curse and drenched in blood.

The weight of what we had just done began to settle in.

I let out a hiss of frustration, my thoughts drifting to my arm—or lack thereof. Severed limbs didn’t heal through level-ups. I’d regained my Qi and felt physically refreshed, but the stump remained. Permanent damage. My arm was gone for good.

I sacrificed an arm for victory. And now we had to hold onto it. If Katheran showed up and saw the Holy Knight dead, things would spiral out of control.

No matter how justified I thought our actions were, to him and the academy, we would be murderers. Sinners who murdered a Holy Knight. He’d hunt us down, perhaps even killing us since he’d think it was us who killed those students in the dungeon. And, for reference, I could not defeat Kath.

The [True Demon God Art: Curse of Defying Heaven] was a trap shot. To start it, the user had to sacrifice a large amount of his blood and sometimes limbs, too. I learned it on my own, and it took months to get it right. I couldn’t repeat it with Katheran.

Nebula’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You pulled that dagger and sword out of thin air,” she said, her eyes flicking to the demonic sword still on the ground. “Do you have some kind of dimensional storage skill? Can’t you store his body there?”

I paused, considering it. My Soul Storage had been useful in many ways, but I’d never tried to store a human body inside it. Would it even work? I had spent months cultivating, which increased the size of my Qi Core after the events in the Wraithwoods, but did that mean it was large enough to store a human…?

Only one way to find out.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But I’ll give it a try.”

I crouched down beside Sir Likard’s corpse, feeling a weight bear down on me. From the little gaps that showed his skin, I noticed the grotesque transformation of his skin. I had ruined this man. I sighed and then pressed my hand against his chest plate.

My Qi shimmered, flowing into the dead body. A moment passed, and then his form seemed to blur, turning into a wisp of energy that vanished into thin air.

“Oh, it worked!” Solara exhaled in relief, her voice almost too loud for the atmosphere.

I didn’t get to cheer with her. Because a sudden wave of nausea hit me. My stomach churned violently, and I stumbled, clutching my mouth as bile rose in my throat.

“H-hey, what’s wrong?” Solara’s concern was immediate, but I waved her off.

“It’s... it’s crammed,” I groaned. “I feel like I just ate way too much food, and it’s sitting in my throat. I’d like to take him out as soon as possible.”

The pressure in my Soul Storage was unbearable.

It wasn’t meant for things like this—storing such a large human body. At least not at my current level. The feeling was suffocating, and I wasn’t sure how long I could hold it together.

Nebula’s magic had done its job, and the bleeding from my stump had stopped. But now came the real challenge. We had to figure out what the hell we’d say to the academy staff. About Sir Likard and about my cut-off arm…

With a wave of my hand, I finally dropped the [True Demon God Art: Eclipse of the Shadow Tyrant], letting the world return to its usual form.

The oppressive darkness faded, revealing the scorched, barren forest. The burning trees, the smoke, the lingering heat—it all came rushing back. It wasn’t blurry. Thankfully, the demonic energy I had released within the eclipse zone vanished as if it had never existed.

But Nebula’s Blood Mana remained, a faint presence in the air.

I glanced at her. “That Blood Mana... It’s still here.” People could track that back to Nebula easily.

She nodded, her face calm. “It’s fine. It’s just Blood Mana that’s not a definitive vampiric trait. Everyone knows I have Blood Mana. I’ll be fine. The real problem is... the story we’re going to tell. We need to be careful about how we explain this.” She gestured toward my stump, her voice serious. “All the students will be questioned. A Holy Knight doesn’t just vanish without notice.”

Solara nodded in agreement, her wings rustling as she shifted uncomfortably. “We need to get our story straight before we get back. It’d be too suspicious if we said we didn’t see him if they somehow tracked his trails back to where we were standing. So we’ll have to say he was attacked by a demon—or maybe that he disappeared in the forest?”

“Right. The second won’t work,” I said, my mind still racing. We needed to think fast to get ahead of this. Sir Likard’s death hung over us like a storm cloud, and I could already feel its consequences closing in.

We had bought ourselves time, but only just. And time was a luxury we couldn’t afford to waste.

****

The professor’s meeting room was dimly lit, and the usual bright ambiance was subdued by the weight of the discussion. The air was thick and layered with tension.

Professor Katheran stood before the gathered group of Waybound’s finest, his sunglasses still on, his casual demeanor replaced by something much more serious. He was giving his report with a tone that left no room for jests. He explained what had unfolded in the forest classes earlier that day.

“And so, the last to see Sir Likard, the Holy Knight, was Iskandaar Romani’s group,” Katheran said, his voice steady as his gaze flicked to each of the professors. “Solara Fenixia and Nebula Carlstein were part of his group at the time.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room, the names sending a wave of curiosity across the teachers. They were the same students involved in the two dungeon incidents. All eyes were on Katheran as he continued his report, and his expression didn’t waver despite the danger. “Iskandaar Romani lost his right arm, down from the elbow, during the battle against... corrupted beasts. His report claims they were demonic, though not demons. Monkeys, twisted and deformed, had tails that had blades instead of fire. He fought them, but the monsters overwhelmed his group when the Flame Monkey King joined the fray.”

Professor Valmyre, the Battle Strategy and Swordsmanship instructor, frowned, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Corrupted beasts? What proof do we have of this?”

Katheran shifted slightly. “The bodies turned to ash upon death. Not anything new. We’ve seen that happen with many demonic beasts before.”

A ripple of unease passed through the room. Professor Thorne leaned forward, her silver hair gleaming under the dim light. “So, no proof,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a sharp edge. “Nothing left of them? Seems convenient. I don’t trust that boy, despite his family.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“He lost an arm,” Katheran replied. “Is that not proof enough? If it weren’t for Nebula Carlstein, who used blood magic to stop the bleeding, he might not have survived long enough for me to arrive. The blood in the ground was severe.”

There was a brief pause as the gravity of the situation settled over them. The missing Holy Knight, a battle with demonic beasts, and now a student gravely injured.

A student who happened to be the grandson of the Titan.

“And why didn’t Iskandaar call for your help immediately?” Valmyre asked, suspicion creeping into his tone. “If he suspected those were demonic creatures he was fighting, why wait?”

Katheran’s expression remained neutral, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Annoyance. “They were about to,” he explained, “just when Iskandaar lost his arm in the fight. The group decided to call for me. But right then, Sir Likard appeared. They assumed the Holy Knight would handle it, he wasn’t weak. Sir Likard entered the fray and pursued the creatures deeper into the woods.”

He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “Moments later, they heard the sounds of a much larger battle—louder, more intense than what they had experienced. It was as if Sir Likard was clashing with someone his level. They suspected a larger demon lurked deeper in the forest.”

“A demon?” Professor Lysandra Thorne asked in her soft voice. Her elven features tightened with concern. “Again…?”

“They aren’t sure,” Katheran admitted. “They guessed it, based on the demonic beasts. They assumed Sir Likard would handle it. But after the noise stopped, there was no sign of Holy Power. That’s when Iskandaar finally called for help. Which, honestly, surprised me. He knew calling for me would forfeit his credits for the hunt. But I went. When I arrived... they were injured, but they weren’t in immediate danger anymore. I was confused as to why they called until they explained the situation.”

A silence passed through the professors. They exchanged glances, frustration etched on their faces.

“...You did well,” Amelia Duskleaf finally spoke, her voice carrying the calm authority of her station. Her draconic eyes remained fixed on Katheran, though her thoughts were already elsewhere. “If there’s even a possibility of a demon in the forest, it’s wise to pull the students out. I’m just thankful there were no casualties. Don’t remove Romani’s credits since they didn’t call you to save them.”

“Understood,” Katheran nodded.

“No immediate casualties, chancellor,” Professor Valmyre jabbed back. “But the Holy Knight is missing, and if he doesn’t return soon, we’d have to assume the worst. That will not go over well with the Church.”

The room fell silent again. It was as if they were seeing an avalanche rushing down at them but could do nothing. The Church had a reputation for being... unforgiving when one of their own disappeared under suspicious circumstances. A Holy Knight going missing within the grounds of Waybound Academy? During a demon hunt?

That would not sit well.

Katheran nodded slowly. “I suspect this incident may cause complications.”

Amelia sighed. She leaned back in her chair, her hands clasped together as she thought through the situation. Her mind wandered, filled with half-formed suspicions. She kept her gaze neutral, but the weight of her thoughts was heavy.

Iskandaar. His name made her worry worse. He had been skirting danger for too long now, cutting it far too close. This time… he lost his good arm.

She exhaled softly, her mind racing through the implications. Things were getting worse for him. Much worse. And without his sword arm, he’d be vulnerable against the rush of the tide that’d find him. Despite his bravado, she knew that this setback would complicate his future immensely. If the Church sends more people, then it’d be over.

He was always so careful, and yet his proximity to danger was tightening with each move he made. And now, with a Holy Knight missing... things would only escalate.

Amelia’s eyes flicked toward the other professors. They didn’t even discuss their worry, they just caught each other’s glances in silence. The silence in the room was tense, broken only by the low hum of the crackling fireplace in the corner.

“If the Church gets involved,” the Headmaster spoke up, “they will not care about any report we give them. They’ll want blood. We need to be prepared for whatever comes next. Because even if it’s the Church, we can’t let them mess with our students.”

Katheran gave a slow nod of agreement, but it was Amelia who spoke next. “Yes, we have no choice,” she said, her tone resolute. “We need to launch a full-scale search for this supposed ‘demon’ in the forest. We need to find it before the Church comes. Otherwise, the Academy’s atmosphere will be ruined.”

The room was filled with nods of agreement, but her thoughts remained elsewhere. If we can find that demon, kill it... maybe Iskandaar’s situation will go unnoticed. She couldn’t deny it—she wanted to do something to shift the focus away from the young man. Since he said there was a real demon during the dungeon incident, she wanted to capture him.

Whatever the case, she wasn’t going to make it easy for the Church to find Iskandaar. Because if he were found out… a quick death would be his dream.

“Begin the search immediately,” she commanded, her voice firm. “I want every inch of that forest combed for any sign of this demon. Then I want the Waybound City searched. We need results, and we need them soon.”

The professors all agreed in unison, some more reluctantly than others, but the urgency was clear. The Church would not be patient.

As the meeting began to wind down, Amelia’s thoughts lingered on Iskandaar. I hope you know what you’re doing, boy, she thought to herself, a feeling of responsibility settling on her shoulders once more.

****

The tavern’s dark, smoky atmosphere was heavy and stifling, but it didn't seem to bother the only two customers sitting at a table. They drank and talked among themselves, the air dance of whispers until Zelyr’s sharp and venomous voice cut through with a shout.

“It is a big deal! Some nobody is using our name to cause havoc!?” Zelyr’s fist slammed onto the wooden table, his violet eyes burning with anger. The runes on his robes flickered for a brief moment, mirroring his agitation.

Across from him, Vrakrith sat lazily, a dumb smile plastered on his moss-covered face as he drank from a large mug. The table beneath him creaked under his massive frame. The trollkin shrugged, his long, thorny hair swaying slightly. “What’s da matter, Zelyr? A kid’s dead, and we scared the prince hard. We did our part.”

Zelyr leaned forward, his voice low. “You don’t understand. How many times have I told you that we, the Savage Seven, are not some mindless thugs who just accept the flow of the situation and go with it? Pointless chaos is not what we want. We need to be aware of what is happening. The Demon King’s plan isn’t about leaving messy trails for idiots to follow. If not for you, how would we have been spotted in that dungeon?!”

“Er…”

The situation was far worse than this foolish trollkin could comprehend. Especially if the Church of Light, the largest Church in Waybound, were to get involved. The Archbishop of that Church was a very dangerous man.

His eyes narrowed, and he sighed. “Forget that,” they’d had that conversation too many times. “What’s important is that someone’s using our name, stirring up trouble, and we don’t know who they are.”

Vrakrith wiped the alcohol from his tusks, his dumb face looking bored. “So what? More chaos in Waybound City. More blood to spill?”

Zelyr’s patience snapped. “It’s not just about the blood, you fool!” His voice dropped, eyes darting around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. Not that there was anyone other than the innkeeper, a fellow demon who waved at them. “Everything needs to be precise. Otherwise, the Demon King won’t be pleased. A third party using the name of demons, claiming to be us, is not something we can just overlook.”

He tilted his head. “I still don’t get it. What the problem?”

“The patrolling has increased due to whatever happened in the Eldergrove Expanse. The Academy is in search of demons, and they even put out missions in the Guilds! If we get exposed, it’s not just us—the Demon King’s whole operation is at risk.”

Vrakrith grunted, setting his tankard down. “Means there’s another demon?” His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “Is it an enemy?”

Zelyr’s mind raced. “Could be. A rogue demon. But if I had to bet, it’s some idiot using our reputation to cover their own tracks.” He clenched his jaw. “So we need to be smart about this. Lay low for now, figure out who’s behind it. If there’s a rogue demon around, we’ll confront them, and if it’s some bastard selling our name… we need to kill them before he causes more trouble to our plan.”

Vrakrith grinned dumbly and cracked his knuckles, the sound of breaking tree branches. “If someone’s using our name, I’ll crush them myself.”

“Careful,” Zelyr’s lip curled into a cold smile. “We don’t act until we know for sure. And we can’t take chances. The Demon King expects results. If this third party screws things up, it’s our heads on the line.”

The trollkin bared his tusks, a flicker of pointless rage in his eyes. “Let them come. The Savage Seven will take care of them!” Considering they were the only two of the seven present in the city right now, that was not true. However, Zelyr had trust in his partner’s strength.

A 6th Ascension [Berserker] was not an easy enemy.

****

I stepped out of the infirmary, the heavy door clicking shut behind me. The report went through smoothly, and no questions were raised that were too suspicious. Katheran had bought our story. The relief should’ve settled in by now, but instead, it felt hollow.

I glanced down at my right arm. The stump wrapped in bandages, tied and hanging from my neck, was a reminder of the price I’d paid. I bit my lip.

Losing an arm meant losing the ability to wield a sword properly—it was my sword hand. It wasn’t just a piece of flesh; it was well-trained muscle memory, skill, instinct. All severed in an instant.

My left hand clenched involuntarily. I had to trust the [System] to help adapt and transfer what it could from one side to the other. It’d be odd to wield a sword on my left hand, but hopefully, the System will help. But would that be enough? I wasn’t even sure.

Crossing the academy grounds, I moved on autopilot.

The sounds of the evening were muted and blurred as I passed through large buildings. My mind wrestled with too many thoughts at once. I reached the dorm, and the door cracked open before I could turn the handle.

Lilian peeked out, her eyes lighting up as she called out, “Hey! You’re back! I heard something interesting happened in—” Her words trailed off the second her eyes landed on my arm. Or the lack of it.

I stared at her frozen expression. The joy drained from her expression. She froze, eyes wide, and stared at the hanging arm as if it couldn’t be real. Slowly, her gaze flicked up to meet mine, the concern in her voice suddenly sharp. “What happened? Young master... your arm.”

I shrugged, attempting a half-hearted smile. “It’s fine, really. Just lost part of it. I’ll figure something out.”

Her hand shot out, grabbing my sleeve, and she tugged me inside, eyes flicking between the bandaged stump and my face. “Just part of it? What the hell happened there?! I- I should have been there!”

“Lilian,” I sighed, but she wasn’t letting it go. Her grip tightened, her brows furrowing in worry, as she stared into my eyes with sharp pain. It was as if she had lost her own arm. I guessed she felt quite incompetent that she wasn’t even there to save me even though that was the job her grandmother had bestowed upon her.

“I wasn’t there.” The words were low, pained like she was blaming herself, as her eyes glistened. “I am sorry, I- what’s going to happen now? Isn’t this your dominant hand?! Young master—”

“You couldn’t have been there,” I cut in. My tone was firm but not harsh. “There was nothing you could do, even if you were. The opponent was too strong. But I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

Her lip quivered, her eyes misting slightly, but she didn’t back down. “But your arm— you have a goal. Your enemies will never be weaklings. How are you supposed to—”

“I’ll manage,” I said, reaching out to ruffle her hair with my left hand, trying to ease the tension. “It’s not like I’ve never adapted before. I’ll figure something out. It’ll take some time, but I don’t plan to stay a cripple. Plus next time, I… will have you.”

She blinked up at me, torn between being upset and wanting to believe my words. The worry in her gaze didn’t ease, though. She stepped back, biting her lip.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I muttered, already heading toward the bathroom. “We’ll talk after. Be ready, we’ll be heading out into the city tonight.”

She stared at me and then nodded, her eyes returning to my arm as I walked past her. I knew she was worried, and I wished I had the time to reassure her properly. But right now, there were bigger things on my mind.

The Holy Knights were no joke.

More could be coming for my head soon.

So I had to perform the ritual for Heavenly Demon Body, and I had to do that fast.