Inside an office far too formal and self-important for anyone with a functioning soul, I sat as the only glorious thing that room had ever been blessed with.

My crimson eyes were focused on the demon across from me, Azriel, who, to his credit, managed to look composed… but naturally, nowhere near my level.

He stared right back at me without blinking.

We were just two adults, locked in a silent pride-soaked stare-off, refusing to blink, speak or admit we were being catastrophically childish as if either of us had not an ounce of maturity left.

Then I took a deep breath and let my expression shift into pure world-ending horror. I pointed behind him as if I was witnessing doom itself.

Azriel snapped around instantly.

…To see nothing but air.

And just like that, the noble staring contest was over, won by a cheap little trick I executed with flawless shamelessness.

A smirk curled onto my face but I didn’t even say I won because that’s what winners do.

Right?

It had been exactly five minutes since I walked into this room and after telling me to sit down, Azriel hadn’t spoken a single word.

He just stared at me.

So naturally… I took that as a challenge and stared right back.

And finally I won.

The stare-off may have been short, but it told me a lot about him. Azriel was nothing like the novel made him out to be. There, he was this emotionless, stoic shadow who barely reacted to anything.

But the real Azriel seemed to be full of emotions.

He was petty, rigid and carried grudges like they were family heirlooms. Still… even with all that, it wasn’t enough to pinpoint the actual root of his hatred toward me.

“What are you here for, Ashborn?”

Azriel’s cold voice finally broke the silence and the faint twitch at the corner of his lips told me he was annoyed.

Perfect.

This was exactly the question I had been waiting for.

“I just wanted to meet you, Professor Azriel.” I said calmly, “And introduce myself as the Successor of the great Demon King.”

Most successors tried to build alliances within the academy and Azriel, being a young genius of Demon Realm, was a prime candidate.

So dropping by to introduce myself wasn’t suspicious at all and more importantly… it would help confirm my suspicion.

I wanted to see if his hatred was because the Demon King chose me instead of him. If that was the case, I wouldn’t even need to kill him.

That kind of insecurity could be solved in… far easier and cleaner ways.

Azriel’s response was instant and ice-cold.

“I don’t care.” He said flatly. “There are no ‘successors’ in this academy. There are only students… and you are one of them. Don’t expect any special treatment because of that.”

His voice was calm but his eyes were burning.

Okay, so that’s definitely not the reason he hates me.

“It’s alright, sir,” I replied politely while my eyes casually scanned his office for any clue. “Ms.Morvana already informed me I shouldn’t expect any special treatment… because of being the Successor or her future son-in-law.”

I tossed those words out casually, just to move the topic along but…

Crack.

A sharp sound echoed in the air.

I turned toward Azriel immediately.

The pen in his hand was snapped clean in half but his expression didn’t have a single change.

…Which only made the reaction even louder.

Fuck.

Only now did it click, the reason behind his hatred.

This bastard was in love with…

Arza.

I mean, what else could it be?

I had gone through dozens of possibilities, maybe he hated me for being the Successor or maybe I had looked at him weird once or maybe he just had that “I despise you on sight” personality.

But this… This was definitely not something I expected.

The reason for his hatred was… some stupid love and for a seventeen-year-old girl.

Unbelievable.

And before anyone says anything, he couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to fall for Morvana.

She is literally the Demon King’s wife. Falling for her is just volunteering to die and in the line I just dropped earlier, I only mentioned two people:

Morvana and how I became her son-in-law.

So obviously his brain latched onto the second part.

Come to think of it, he was annoying before… but he didn’t show any real hatred when I talked to him before the entrance exam.

Except that one prank where he teleported me straight onto Morvana’s lap. Which, honestly, was just more proof he couldn’t be in love with her.

I mean, what kind of lunatic willingly tosses another handsome man into the humongous bosom of the woman he loves?

Exactly. No one sane would do that.

Which meant—

Yeah. Everything suddenly made way too much sense.

“This is an academy, Ashborn and not your home… so you should refer to Ms.Morvana with honorifics.” He replied coldly. “And I don’t have anything else to discuss with you. So, you may leave now.”

I didn’t want to stay here anymore either with this creepy bastard.

So, I got up from my seat.

“And be sure to be careful, the senior students are quite mischievous and who knows what could happen.”

He added with a cold smile.

“Thanks for your valuable time, Professor Azriel.” I spoke politely. “Have a nice day.”

Because I will make sure you won’t survive much longer anyway.

Okay, well, there is a chance he will survive but well, at least I will take care of his short term threat because even I don’t know he will die for sure.

I can only hope all goes according to my plan.

Tsk, that’s why I hate relying on others for my payback.

—

Meanwhile, left alone in the room, Azriel’s expression twisted into a dark frown.

“I can’t let that boy survive anymore.”

His voice trembled with desperation as a frantic expression crossed his face. He bit his thumb again and again, a pathetic attempt to steady himself but the panic wouldn’t stop.

“I can’t let him take her from me… She is mine. Mine and mine alone.”

With a sharp snap of his fingers, the shelf behind him rotated, revealing a small hidden shrine.

Dozens of images of Morvana covered every surface, arranged with fanatical reverence.

Demons hated technology.

But Azriel didn’t care.

He had used a human device, a camera, to capture every stolen image. The mana-based demon equivalents would’ve alerted his Goddess immediately, so he resorted to the inventions of those filthy humans to preserve these… moments.

Yet even looking at the pictures no longer satisfied him.

“How dare he call you that… my Goddess…”

His voice cracked.

“You won’t be angry if I kill him, right?”

“He deserves it.”

“He dared to look at you… smile at you… stand beside you… breathe in your presence. How can I let him live?”

Every trace of logic slipped from him, drowned beneath in a wave of obsession.

There had been a time when he had nothing before his Goddess gave him purpose, strength, a place in this world.

She was the reason he existed and the meaning of his entire life.

And now some unknown insignificant filth dared to approach her?

He didn’t care that Rael was the Demon King’s successor.

He didn’t care that he was his student.

He just wanted him gone and he felt no guilt.

Why would he?

The Demon King, that pathetic and cowardly thief who stole his Goddess with cheap tricks, created the rule himself:

Any successor who couldn’t survive Noxvalen didn’t deserve to live.

So it was fine and justified.

More importantly, Azriel wasn’t planning to do the deed himself.

He already had a plan.

A plan that would erase Rael Von Ashborn… without ever dirtying his own hands.

He just had to give a little permission… to a few seniors who already despised that boy and they would handle the rest for him.

“I won’t let him ever reach the strength of Demon Kings… I will crush that filth before he can grow another inch.”

“And once that filth is gone… I’ll become stronger. Strong enough to kill that Demon King too…”

His voice shook with feverish devotion.

“And then you will be all mine, my Goddess. Nobody will separate us and you won’t have to hide your feelings for me anymore.”

“My Goddess… hehehehehehehehehehe…”

His laughter spiraled as tears slid down his cheeks like offerings. He stayed like that for several minutes, trembling before his shrine.

Then, abruptly, everything stopped.

His posture straightened and his face reset into calm neutrality without a trace of madness left as if he had never broken down in the first place.

Azriel placed a hand over the small red gem on his desk and channeled mana into it.

“Summon Varek Ashen Noctharion to my office,” he said in a flat and composed tone.

A second later, the response came. “Understood, Professor Azriel.”

With that done, Azriel simply returned to scanning the documents on his desk calmly as if nothing had happened at all.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep