A thick, unbearable silence fell between them like a curtain. It was like someone had made a grand announcement during a performance: “And now, a surprise guest!” but the guest suddenly vanished without a trace.

Jackal frowned in disbelief. “W-wait. This. This can’t be right.”

According to the records, the Tyrant of the Abyss, Behemoth, was known for its extreme territorial obsession. The moment its domain was invaded, it would immediately rush in to tear the intruder apart. So, why wasn’t it coming now?

Jackal stomped on the ground inside Behemoth’s supposed territory, trying to provoke it, but there wasn’t even the faintest sign of movement, not from Behemoth, not from any other demonic monsters.

“W-why! Why isn’t it here?” he shouted in panic, his voice echoing across the empty Abyss.

***

I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sound of realization as I watched him. “Ah!”

I had been wondering why he had gone so far as to throw away an entire army of beasts just to enter this place, but now it made sense. For someone like Jackal, who could control beasts, Behemoth would have been the ultimate prize, the most powerful creature he could ever hope to command. Unfortunately for him, that was not possible now.

“Why! Why won’t it appear!” he shouted.

I replied, “Uh, well...”

“Don’t tell me, this isn’t Behemoth’s domain?!”

“No, it is. But...” I said.

He glared at me. “Silence! What do you know, you fucker?”

I nearly said, “It’s already dead,” but decided to swallow the words. Even if I told him, he wouldn’t believe me. And honestly, watching him desperately searching for a beast that had long been dead brought a chuckle to my lips. It was kind of funny.

Jackal grit his teeth, then suddenly lunged at me, screaming, “Graaahhhh!”

It was almost pitiful. Without his beasts, the so-called Archbishop of Beasts was laughably weak in close combat. A simple kick sent him flying backward.

“Gah!”

I smirked. “You’re really trying hard, huh? Resorting to fistfights now? Pathetic.”

Jackal trembled, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. “Y-you bastard!”

I had turned his entire army, including his elite ten-eyed demonic monsters, into ashes, and now, I was toying with him like a child. Even if he wasn’t a close-combat fighter, this was far beyond what a mere cadet should be capable of.

He asked, voice quivering, “Who? Who are you?”

“What, didn’t Mephisto tell you? You should already know who I am.” I shrugged and continued casually, “Third year in the Warrior Division of the Hero Academy. The lowest-ranked cadet, Dale Han. That’s me.”

Jackal snarled, grinding his teeth. “Lies!”

I could guess that from his point of view, the words “third-year” and “lowest-ranked” seemed absurd at this point.

“Who are you really? You’ve been pretending to be a cadet, haven’t you?” His eyes widened, as if he had just realized something. “Wait. You’re not Khalid Han, are you?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Huh?”

Khalid Han, the Falling Petal Sword, was one of the current top-five-ranked heroes. His sword was said to scatter petals with every swing, hence his nickname. He also carried another title, “The Last Seat Master.” It was because he had barely made it into the Master ranks, the elite title reserved for the heroes ranked in the top five. While he was often considered weaker than the others in that tier, a Master was a Master.

I said, “Wow, I’m flattered! You really think I’m Master-level?”

Looking entirely convinced, he shouted, “Don’t play dumb! Ugh! You’re both from the same Republic, and you share the same surname!”

I just shook my head, exasperated. “Okay, now I’m certain you know nothing about the Republic.”

“What did you say?”

“Do you even know how many people in the Republic share the same surname? By your logic, even my neighbor’s dog Poppi would count as a Han.”

Sure, there were rare family names that represented noble houses, like the Ryu name, but for the most part, surnames in the Republic were incredibly common. And besides, Jackal had missed an important fact.

I said, “I’m an orphan. My name and surname were just something the orphanage director made up.”

Apparently, one of the orphanage’s donors had suggested it, and the director just went with it. Either way, the theory that I was secretly Khalid Han in disguise was completely off.

Flustered, Jackal asked, “T-then. Who are you really?”

“How many times do I have to say it? Dale Han, third-year cadet, Warrior Division, Hero Academy.”

Jackal clamped his mouth shut, eyes trembling in disbelief. His wrinkled face twisted in frustration. “Don’t lie to me! How could, how could a mere cadet— Gah!”

I tripped him mid-sentence and pressed my sword against his chest. “Question time’s over. Now it’s my turn.”

“Guh!”

“How did you open the gate leading deeper into the Abyss?” I asked.

The first layer of the Abyss could be accessed through physical means, but from the second layer onward, a path could not be connected without utilizing the magic circles.

“Mephisto. That bastard told me how to open it,” Jackal answered.

“Mephisto?”

“Y-yes! That’s right! It was him! Mephisto, that damned bastard! This. This was all his doing!” Jackal’s eyes widened as if he had finally realized something. “Damn it! I should’ve known! The moment that sly bastard proposed a deal, I should’ve seen it coming!”

I frowned, watching him rage and curse like a man who had just found out he was being played. Even a fellow Archbishop like Jackal had been dancing in the palm of Mephisto’s hand.

Even this guy was just another puppet, huh? I thought.

I clicked my tongue. Ash-gray flames rippled along my blade.

Suddenly, Jackal said, “W-wait! Let’s make a deal!”

“A deal?”

“Yes! If you spare me, I’ll tell you everything I know about Mephisto!”

“Oh?”

That was actually interesting.

I smirked and tilted my head slightly. “Fine. But let’s change the terms.”

“C-change the terms?”

“Yeah. You tell me what you know about Mephisto...” My lips curved, and I continued, “and I’ll make sure your death is quick.”

Jackal blinked, confused. “What? W-what the hell are you— Gah! Gaaahh!”

The Ashen Flame wrapped around him as my blade pierced his chest. I smiled brightly. “Don’t worry. You’ll understand what I mean soon enough.”

“Gyaaaahhh! Aaaagh! S-stop! Stop it, please!” he shrieked.

His shrieks continued ringing as the ash-gray fire spread over his body, devouring flesh, voice, and life all at once.

***

I pulled my sword from his now-ashen corpse. The brief interrogation was over, but what I learned replayed in my mind. Mephisto was colluding with a hero. I didn’t know which hero, nor what their goal was, but one thing was clear: A traitor existed. A hero had turned their back on humanity and joined hands with a demon.

Though, this wasn’t a shock to me. In my past life, I had seen plenty of heroes who had chosen to side with demons. Regardless, I couldn’t guess who this one was.

I rubbed my temple, my head aching from the unanswered questions. “Ugh!”

Professor Baldwin staggered toward me. “Is it over?”

“You’re awake?”

“Heh. I couldn’t possibly rest easy while my student does all the work, could I?”

With a faint smile, she took a cigarette from her coat and placed it between her lips. As smoke drifted upward, she gazed at Jackal’s burnt remains, her expression complicated.

“In your past life, did you say I died together with Jackal?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Then it seems this time, you saved my life.”

She dropped the cigarette, barely smoked, and stepped closer to me. Then, she leaned her forehead against my chest. Her shoulders trembled faintly.

“Just for a moment, can I stay like this? Can I act a little selfish?” she said.

“As long as you need.”

I gently patted her back, soothing her like one would a child trying not to cry.

Her trembling slowly eased, and she looked at me. “Dale.”

“Hm?”

Before I could respond, her lips pressed softly against mine.

After a short kiss, she drew back, eyes half-lidded. “There’s one thing I regret.”

“Regret?”

She touched her lips, a bittersweet smile curling there. “Not giving you my first. Before meeting you, I only kissed others as a convenient way to activate the Blessing of Insight.”

Her blessing could also be triggered by sharing blood or sweat, but the effect they produced was far weaker than the effect of sharing a kiss. It had never bothered her before because, to her, a kiss was just a ritual. There was no emotion and no meaning.

She continued, “I never imagined I would come to care for someone this deeply, or that I would feel happiness again because of them. I didn’t think I deserved that.”

Her life had been nothing but despair. The fire that once engulfed her village had also burned away every trace of hope she ever had.

She whispered, “But, ironically enough, it was your flame that gave me new hope.”

It was a soft, ashen fire. It was not the same merciless blaze that destroyed her past, but a warm, gentle light that eased her heart instead of consuming it.

Professor Baldwin came closer to me again. “Thank you. And...”

She placed her hand over my left chest, where the faint ember of my soul stigmata pulsed. Feeling its warmth, she murmured, “I love you. More than my own life.”

Her eyes trembled faintly.

I muttered, “Professor...”

I had known, of course, that she had feelings for me. But hearing it spoken aloud made my heart pound uncontrollably, like it had forgotten how to function.

As I tried to form a reply, she smiled faintly and placed a finger over my lips. “Heh. You don’t have to answer now. I know things are... complicated for you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“But still...” She leaned close, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered in a low, alluring voice, “My other first, I’ll save that for you. Always.”

For a moment, an image flashed in my mind, that of the flesh-beast, tightly bound in silken webs, struggling helplessly.

“Heh. Come on, let’s head back,” she said.

Somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the one trapped in that spider’s web wasn’t the monster, but me.