The Narrow-Eyed Villain of the Demon Academy

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"To defeat the Sword Saint?"

"Arrogant."

I couldn't utter a single word in response to Crete's incredibly arrogant declaration.

Perhaps my fear stemmed from knowing that this very arrogance would ultimately lead to Crete's demise.

‘…I have to stop him.’

I knew I had to intervene.

A war between the Sword Saint and Crete.

The Bares, are renowned as the most powerful family among the Seven Deadly Sins.

Their downfall would signify the end of the Demon Realm.

All my efforts, fueled by the might of the Demon Realm, to grant Adel's wish would crumble into dust.

However,

“Cough… Keuk…!”

Crete, without retracting his overwhelming pressure, effectively silenced me.

…Crete.

Amidst the suffocating pressure, my mind raced.

Judging by the current situation, Crete's plan was nearing its execution.

This was my only chance to stop him.

But how?

How could I possibly stop him?

…There was only one way.

*Hum-*

I unleashed my own killing intent, honed to a considerable level.

*Whoosh-*

My killing intent clashed with Crete's pressure, instantly shattering the force that bound me.

"Oh?"

A small, intrigued sound escaped Crete's lips.

But that was all.

His arrogance remained etched on his face as he simply looked down at me, seemingly wanting to gauge what cards I held.

“…I won't let you… do this.”

*Hum-*

Freed from Crete's pressure, I immediately ignited my killing intent and drew two daggers.

The Fang of Darkness and the red dagger imbued with murderous intent, began to tear at the very fabric of space.

But I didn't stop there.

*Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwak-*

The profound principle Crete had once imparted to me.

I channeled all of my mana, drastically amplified from reaching half of the ten thousand, into pure killing intent, pouring it into the two daggers.

The already space-ripping killing intent surged with renewed ferocity, now threatening to shred even my own grasp.

The sheer pain of the murderous aura made me grit my teeth, despite being the source of it.

It was so excruciating that even I, the wielder, felt a shiver of fear.

Crete, observing my struggle, finally spoke.

“You were quick to apply what I taught you.”

“…It's a technique that will bring down the Lord.”

“Hmm, I doubt that very much.”

Crete dismissed my words with a light chuckle.

Unlike me, he exuded an air of unyielding confidence.

I sensed that I would be swept away by his composure if this continued.

Therefore,

"….!"

Movement.

I instantly switched places with a document on Crete's desk, finding myself atop it.

And then, with both daggers imbued with deadly intent, I struck at Crete.

However,

*Thud-*

“Cough…!”

With a flick of his black sword, Crete deflected my daggers and landed a punch squarely on my chest.

My body convulsed, and a dark clot of blood erupted from my mouth.

A single blow, effortlessly delivered, had left me with a critical wound.

“Cough…”

A trail of blood trickled down from the corner of my tightly sealed lips.

My mouth filled with the metallic tang of blood.

One exchange.

One fatal blow.

Crete looked down at me, his arrogance unwavering, and spoke.

“Now you're finally worth my time. In the past, you would have already lost consciousness.”

“…”

“Excellent. You've proven yourself worthy of being my daughter's escort.”

“…What a comforting thing to hear.”

“I speak the truth. With your current strength, no one among your peers can surpass you.”

For some reason, Crete praised my strength with an uncharacteristically serious tone.

However, hearing such praise in my current state only fueled my frustration.

My insides churned, and blood continued to pour from my mouth.

But it was too early to give up.

‘…I have to use it.’

To stop Crete, I couldn't afford to be picky about my methods.

Even if it meant dying by his hand here, I had to stop him.

Countless innocent lives were at stake.

Crete would lead his army to kill the Sword Saint, and countless civilians and demons would perish in the process.

…It would be a repeat of a tragedy etched in history.

A pointless war, regardless of whether Crete or the Sword Saint emerged victorious.

At this moment, Crete…

He resembled a moth drawn to a flame.

A foolish insect, its wings ablaze, relentlessly pursuing the illusion of light, oblivious to its impending demise.

Knowing that it would all end in a pile of ash, I had to stop him.

…Only then did I understand why Rene had asked me that question.

‘Precious person, die, revenge, will you?’

Would you seek revenge if someone precious to you died? Rene had asked me.

It wasn't a declaration of her own intent to avenge herself upon the Sword Saint.

She was grappling with whether she should try to stop her father's quest for vengeance, or stand by and watch it unfold.

Rene had sought my guidance because she didn't know the answer.

And foolishly,

Back then, I told her that she shouldn't interfere.

…Unaware of the weight her question carried.

"Crete…!"

I spat out his name, pulling a stone from my pocket.

The magic-imbued stone the Headmaster had given me in Sytan.

The Headmaster's magic resided within it.

Perhaps this…

Perhaps this could stop Crete.

As I prepared to use it, a spark of interest flickered in Crete's eyes.

“A runestone, I see. But no matter whose magic it holds, it can't stop me.”

“…You'll see.”

*Thump-*

I poured my mana into the runestone.

*Hum-*

The runestone responded.

A surge of powerful mana erupted from the stone, swirling like a raging storm.

The runestone the Headmaster had entrusted to me.

The magic it held was…

Meteor.

*KwaaAAAAAAA-*

The sound of the atmosphere tearing apart reverberated through me.

A streak of light descended from the heavens, hurtling towards the Bares mansion.

The meteor, carrying unimaginable force, plummeted towards Crete and me.

Crete simply chuckled.

“Are you planning a double suicide?”

“…If that's what it takes to stop you.”

“Hmm.”

Even with the imminent threat of the meteor, Crete maintained his composure, observing me with a hint of amusement.

Then, he spoke.

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

Crete's unexpected question took me aback.

A question at a time like this?

But Crete, his curiosity piqued, pressed on.

“There’s no need for you to interfere. This war is mine alone. Why would you, someone who holds no affection for me and is ostracized by the human realm, try to stop me?”

“…”

That's what he wanted to know.

Why I was trying to stop him.

My answer was simple.

There were countless reasons, but if I had to choose one…

“Because… you’re a father.”

“A father?”

“Don't you realize… that revenge isn’t what matters to your children?”

“…”

*Twitch-*

Was he angered by my casual speech?

Crete's eyebrow twitched.

This was the first time I had witnessed such a drastic shift in his usually stoic demeanor.

At this moment, Crete was… furious.

"How dare you presume to speak of my children and I?"

"….!"

In that instant,

As Crete's fury erupted, time seemed to grind to a halt.

At least, that’s what it felt like.

*Fwoosh-*

*Thud- Thud- Thud- Thud-*

The meteor, mere moments from impact, disintegrated into dust, its fragments scattering across the mansion.

Crete's rage-fueled power had obliterated the meteor before it could even touch the ground.

And at the same time,

“Gah, huh, hugh…”

*Crack-* *Crack-* *Crack-*

The sheer force of Crete's pressure shattered my ribs.

The sharp shards of bone dug into my insides.

*Cough-*

*Cough-*

My body convulsed, blood gushing out with each spasm.

Crete, his gaze ice-cold, raised his hand.

"Choose your words more carefully. This… is my punishment for your insolence."

*Plunge-*

The black sword in Crete's hand pierced my chest. I froze, the cold steel a stark reminder of my failure.

I had lost too much blood; my vision blurred.

…Blood poured from every wound.

Each breath grew shallower than the last.

Crete twisted the sword embedded in my chest and spoke.

“…Remember this pain.”

And then,

Just as Crete moved to drive the sword into my heart,

*Bang-*

Someone burst through the doors of Crete’s office.

I couldn’t turn my head to see who it was, but…

*Slap-*

A slender hand, scarred and calloused, slapped Crete across the face.

“…”

Crete’s jaw clenched.

His eyes trembled with a storm of emotions.

Such a display of vulnerability was unheard of.

Finally, he withdrew the sword from my chest.

But it was too late.

My lifeblood had already seeped onto the floor.

*Thud-*

My knees buckled, and I collapsed.

... I couldn't even muster the strength to stay upright on my knees.

And so,

As my vision began to fade,

*Swoosh-*

Someone caught me from behind.

Through the slits of my heavy eyelids, I saw a young woman, her face streaked with tears.

“…I’m sorry.”

Rene.

A single teardrop rolled down her cheek.

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