A hell-level Demon Lord territory, an old antique, two notebooks, and a towering stack of reference books that might take a lifetime to finish…
That was everything Royan gained from the principal's office.
Although the official appointment hadn't been issued yet, judging from Professor Edwin's tone, the outcome was already certain.
In other words, if nothing went wrong, something was definitely about to go wrong.
After thanking the respected principal, Royan left the office carrying a mountain of items, his face full of worry.
He thought his bad luck had already run its course for the day. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
On his way downstairs, disaster struck anyway.
With his vision blocked by the stack of books, he failed to see where he was going and crashed straight into Miss Lilith, who had just stepped out of the faculty office.
A Diamond-rank succubus being knocked over by a Bronze-rank necromancer.
There was probably no colder joke in all of Hell.
"Ow… that hurts…"
Miss Lilith collapsed onto the floor, her crossed stockings barely keeping her skirt in place. She looked fragile and injured, completely hiding the fact that her speed and strength rivaled Professor Enos.
Her short silver hair fell softly over her shoulders. Her rimless glasses had slipped into her slightly open collar. Every detail looked like it came straight out of a textbook.
Wait… when did that top button come undone?
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry…"
Still stunned, Royan instinctively apologized, quickly gathering his books. He didn't dare meet her eyes, afraid of provoking trouble.
But clearly, she had been waiting for him.
In a flash, she sprang up. With one hand she snatched two of his books, and with the other she pinned him against the wall.
"Royan, there is no such thing as 'sorry' in Hell. Do you think an apology is enough to compensate your teacher's losses? Or is this what you meant by 'man up'? Shouldn't you at least escort your dear Professor Lilith back to her room and massage her injured feet?"
Tempting.
Very tempting.
But he had just turned eighteen. He had no intention of being demoted from a protected human to a skeleton soldier.
"Do you… look like someone who needs help right now?" Royan said, staring fixedly at the dent in the wall left by her elbow.
"Uh…"
Realizing she had overdone it, Lilith finally lost her composure.
Especially after noticing the sharp gaze from the top of the tower, the ethically questionable professor decided not to bully her student any further and returned the books.
Interesting.
This kid was luckier than expected, earning the attention of that demi-god-level monster at the top of the tower.
Maybe it was worth investing a little more in him.
Over the years, the Demon Lord Academy had produced many talents for Hell's government and the Demon God's court. Yet most Demon Lords sent out ended up as short-lived expendables. As a result, students fought desperately for safer bureaucratic positions.
Lilith had connections in the Ministry, but Demon Lords were the academy's biggest weakness.
Some valuable resources could only be obtained from the human world. And as everyone knew, only Demon Lords held territories near the surface.
Even if those territories were considered ticking time bombs.
Besides, she had always wanted a pointy-eared maid as a pet.
Lilith licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with a hint of calculation.
"Alright, I'll stop teasing you. Big sister actually came to give you something."
Big sister?
She really had the nerve.
Royan silently complained, watching as her slender fingers sliced through the air.
A pink crack opened in the darkness, and a bronze ring dropped out, landing neatly on top of his books.
The ring was set with a deep red gem that glowed like the eye of a succubus.
Royan's breath caught.
"A Gold-tier magic ring?!"
As a necromancer with a painfully short mana pool, he could barely cast any spells.
He had tried unconventional methods, using scrolls and magical tools instead of direct casting.
Unfortunately, crafting Gold-tier items required at least Platinum-level power.
He was only a stubborn Bronze.
Even if he made a pile of Black Iron scrolls, they were barely useful.
As for reusable magical devices, their cost was easily ten or twenty times higher than scrolls.
And his allowance barely covered basic survival.
Seeing his flushed face and rapid breathing, Lilith flicked his nose, both amused and annoyed.
"That's right, clever little cutie. Its name is Soul Drain. Once you're sent to the frontier, a Gold-tier artifact should help you hold your ground."
"If anyone dares bully you, just use my gift and slurp them dry."
She made a playful slurping sound by his ear, then lazily returned to her office.
Royan knew she had staged the entire collision.
With his strength, there was no way he could knock down, let alone injure, a Diamond-rank succubus.
Still, for the sake of that Gold-tier ring, he couldn't help but feel a bit of respect for Professor Lilith.
And the fact that she already knew about the recommendation letter from Principal Edwin…
Her influence was no joke.
With that thought, Royan stopped briefly outside Professor Enos's office, but after waiting with no response, he left in disappointment.
…
The academy dormitory stood not far from the West Tower, a massive five-story mansion.
From a human perspective, it looked exactly like a haunted house.
Gargoyles guarded the entrance. Low-tier demons handled cleaning. The potted plants were man-eating flowers, and the vines creeping along the walls were carnivorous as well.
Though fortunately, none of them seemed fully grown yet.
The paintings along the corridors moved like living newspapers.
Except they were far more active.
Sometimes, they even appeared in the mirrors of the washrooms.
After washing his face, Royan glanced up and saw a white-clad woman standing behind him, her eyes gouged out.
"Good evening, Lady Susanna."
She had once been a human prophet, executed for predicting a king's death.
Later, during a war between Hell and humanity, she returned as a banshee and took revenge on both the lord who executed her and the king he served.
In a sense, her prophecy had come true.
Eventually, she was nearly destroyed by holy magic and reduced to a lingering soul, bound to the dormitory's mirrors and paintings.
At first, Royan found it unsettling.
Now, he greeted them like old neighbors.
The woman paused, then sighed softly.
"For me, morning is when the sun rises and the moon sets…"
"But there's no sun in Hell," Royan replied casually.
She fell silent. Blood slowly seeped from her empty eye sockets.
It was eerie, though still less intimidating than Professor Enos.
Royan gave it a mental score of fifty.
But she wasn't trying to scare him.
She simply looked… wistful.
"I wish I could see it again…"
Her voice faded like smoke as she vanished from the mirror.
…
Hell had no natural day-night cycle.
Most demons didn't sleep at night anyway.
Some slept for days, others not at all.
Undead, it was said, didn't need sleep at all.
Still, thanks to Principal Edwin Kruger and other traditionalists from the surface, a massive amethyst dome had been installed above the capital. Powered by geothermal energy, it simulated moonlight and created an artificial day-night rhythm.
Rumor had it the dome was stolen from the dwarves, who still held a grudge.
Now, the moonlight outside had dimmed, marking night in Hell.
Day and night here were reversed from the surface.
Sitting by the window, Royan decided to write a letter to his godfather, Jeffrey Mount.
He described the day's events and his upcoming assignment to a dangerous, nameless Demon Lord territory.
He left out the part about the succubus.
Jeffrey disliked them.
"...Respected Mr. Jeffrey, I send you my regards. That concludes my report for today."
"Also… I've run out of money."
There were no part-time jobs in Hell.
Working for professors was risky for humans.
Laws were one thing.
Sharing a room with a Diamond-rank demon was another.
Royan had no intention of selling himself to Lilith.
As for Professor Enos, that was never an option.
After finishing the letter, he sealed it in a small copper tube and rang the bell on the windowsill.
A bat the size of a small dog soon landed, extending its leg.
Royan attached the tube.
"Deliver this to 104 Ghost Street, West District. To Reverend Jeffrey Mount."
The bat chirped and shot into the sky.
Watching it disappear, Royan returned to his desk.
Looking at the stack of books, he sighed.
"I didn't expect these three years to end so quickly…"
A Bronze-ranked Demon Lord.
He could only hope the hero sent to kill him wouldn't laugh.
Determined to survive, he picked up the notes of Isaac IV and the translated version written by Professor Edwin.
He didn't expect to solve a mystery that had stumped a scholar for decades.
But understanding history might help him survive.
He opened both books and began reading.
Then he froze.
The first line of the original text stunned him.
December 12, Year 77. My two brothers killed each other with assassins. My father died of rage on the battlefield. I was in bed with a duchess and somehow became king. My servants think the kingdom is doomed, and honestly, so do I.
Royan's eyes widened.
"These… characters?"
He shot to his feet, knocking over his chair.
"No way!"
"A fellow transmigrator?!"