Chapter 160: The Witch of the Night (1)

Darkness hung like a shroud over the night. Below the dark sky, a white-haired young man sat atop a jagged rock that jutted upward as though it were a spear thrust into the heavens. The ground trembled, and something colossal approached him. No, more precisely, it was an old man riding atop a colossal beast.

“Another setback in your plans?” said the old man. His voice rasped like stone grinding against stone, his eyes fixed on the youth.

The young man gave a faint, bitter smile and dipped his head. “That’s how it turned out.”

“Hmm, to think the Archbishop of Depravity would suffer failure after failure. A rare sight indeed.”

“Well, the world doesn’t always bend to our designs.”

The youth, Mephisto, also known as the Archbishop of Depravity, shrugged as his gaze drifted to the faraway city of Valhalla. Below, the city’s lights glittered like a river of stars, an artificial Milky Way of sorts, scattering across the darkened sky.

“Serpente, was it? I recall that one being a vassal you held in rather high regard,” said the old man.

Mephisto’s shoulders gave a slight twitch, but only for a moment. His smile returned, smooth and untroubled. “It’s fine. Pawns are meant to be spent and discarded.”

“Hah. You’d do well to learn to treasure your servants a little more.”

The old man, Jackal, let out a sigh and stroked the back of the beast he rode. Each stroke wrung a low, pained groan from the demonic monster’s throat. Mephisto stifled another bitter smile at this and adjusted the golden monocle over his eye.

“Of all people, you’re the last I would expect to hear that from, Jackal,” he said.

Jackal’s laugh rattled like phlegm. “So. What’s that brat been up to lately? It’s been oddly quiet these days.”

“Even I don’t know what Seto is plotting right now.”

“Hmph. And that bitch Laxasia vanished without a word. Tch tch! At this rate, how are we ever meant to break the Demon God’s seal when the Archbishops themselves are so scattered?”

Mephisto’s lips curved in a faint, enigmatic smile. “It’s not the first time matters have dragged, is it?”

“True enough. Ah, that reminds me, what of the ‘witch’ you spoke of before?”

Mephisto raised a shoulder, his smile widening. “That’s proceeding without any issue.”

“I don’t doubt your word, but it’s still hard to believe. A mere cadet girl with the power to annihilate half a continent in an instant? Does such a thing even make sense?”

Even for him, the notion was absurd. Such a feat was beyond his reach. Perhaps only the top-ranked among them, the Archbishop of Ruin, could attempt such madness.

Mephisto’s smile deepened, shadows pooling in his eyes. “Well, you’ll see soon enough. Because the Witch of the Night is about to awaken.”

***

I sat in my newly refurbished dorm room, running a hand over my face. “Phew! Finally, some time to myself.”

After weeks of enduring Iris and Yurina’s constant bickering, emotional as much as magical, having a brief moment alone felt like a rare luxury. But it wasn’t like I was in any position to complain. If someone asked me whether I was happy, the answer was obvious. Two beautiful lovers had entered my life. There was no way I could call that misfortune.

When I had first confessed to Iris and Yurina, guilt had gnawed at me; I could hardly sleep. However, my heart had grown lighter now.

As my thoughts settled, another face floated into my mind.

Professor Baldwin. Later. I’ll think about that later.

Right now, handling Iris and Yurina was more than enough for me.

As it had been a long time since I had had a stretch of peace, I used it to quietly take stock of things. “Alright, let’s see…”

This life was going far better than my last one. Half a year ago, when I had regressed, I swore to change the future and lead my companions. But never had I expected things to flow this smoothly. Now, the people within my circle included not only Iris, Yurina, Berald, and Senior Sophia but also Professor Baldwin, Camilla, and Jules—people with whom I had never so much as spoken in my past life. Compared to before, everything was unfolding with startling ease.

“But I can’t relax yet.”

The Demon God was strong. No, “strong” was too small a word. He was something beyond strength, a being of an entirely different order. Rather than a thinking creature, he was more like a calamity of nature, driven by one purpose alone: to destroy the world. Against such a thing, our current power was laughably insufficient.

Of course, the best outcome was to prevent the seal from breaking at all. But with the future uncertain, preparation was the only safeguard.

I started thinking about my plans. “For now, among the people at this academy, the one I absolutely need ties with is…”

At the top of the list, without question, was Aaron Baek, the Meteor Spear. In the fourth-year class, where geniuses gathered in droves, Aaron stood unchallenged at the top. Later, in the future, he would be remembered as Yuren’s rival, one of the strongest heroes of his age. If I could recruit Aaron Baek, he’d be an invaluable force in what was to come.

He was a talent so great that even Yuren had acknowledged him in my previous life. Yuren had admitted that no matter how hard he pushed himself, Aaron was the one man he could never surpass. If I could help draw out Aaron’s talent further, as I had done for Yurina and Berald, he would become one of our greatest pillars of strength.

“But before that…”

Ties with Aaron were important, yes, but I needed to face another task first. It was a task I had been putting off again and again. It concerned a being who was so dangerous that mishandling her could freeze half the continent and who was the monster that had given me my worst nightmare in my past life.

The Witch of the Night, Laneige Maram.

The moment her name surfaced in my mind, a chill crept down my spine. My thoughts filled with a vision of endless snowfields, buried beneath howling blizzards.

“Ugh!

”

Breath caught painfully in my chest. I clutched at it, trembling as a shudder tore through me. The reason I had never once gone to meet the Witch of the Night, despite knowing she attended the same academy as me, was far simpler than anyone might expect: I was afraid.

Yes, I was terrified of facing her. Terrified that the horrific disaster she once unleashed, that irreversible nightmare, would play out again. It was so unbearably, helplessly, and overwhelmingly frightening.

A dry laugh escaped through my lips. “Look at me. A man who can’t even die when his head is split open, trembling like a coward from fear.”

I knew full well how pathetic I looked. But what else could I do? I had seen the catastrophe the Witch of the Night had wrought with my own eyes. How could I not fear her?

In a sense, she was even more terrifying than the Demon God. The Demon God was like a force of nature, such as an earthquake, tidal wave, or typhoon. Facing it inspired awe more than fear. It was a being of such a different scale that terror itself seemed meaningless. But the Witch of the Night was different.

I clenched my trembling hand into a fist. Just remembering her made my knees shake, but I couldn’t keep burying my head in the sand forever. I had to meet her. Yes, I had to meet Laneige Maram before she became the Witch of the Night. Then, I would study her carefully.

And kill her…

Before the seed of calamity inside her could ever awaken, I would end her life.

***

I arrived at the building used by the fourth-year cadets and glanced around. “Let’s see…”

I wondered which classroom Laneige Maram studied in. At the Hero Academy, lower-year cadets moved between rooms according to their classes. But starting from the fourth year, cadets were assigned fixed classrooms. The reason was to deepen bonds within parties.

Unlike underclassmen, who reshuffled their parties every class, fourth-years had largely fixed parties, so each party was assigned a set classroom where they attended lessons together. Of course, if you got stuck with the wrong fixed party, you were in for a miserable year.

I let out a bitter smile at the memory of my past life.

As I wandered in search of Laneige’s classroom, Senior Sophia spotted me loitering in the hallway and approached me. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, Senior Sophia.”

“Hmph. A third-year strutting around the fourth-year building like he owns the place?”

“Well, there’s no rule that says third-years can’t enter here, is there?”

“That’s true, but still… What’s your business here?”

“Do you happen to know a fourth-year cadet named Laneige Maram?”

Senior Sophia flinched, her shoulders twitching. “I know her. Why?”

Once again, I relied on my all-purpose excuse, Professor Baldwin. “I’m running an errand for Professor Baldwin. I was trying to find out which classroom Senior Laneige belongs to.”

I asked, “Is she in the same class as you, Senior?”

“No. She’s in Class A. I’m in Class B.”

“Then where’s Class A?”

She pointed toward a room down the corridor. “Over there.”

I gave a polite nod and proceeded to tease her. “By the way, how are things with Berald lately?”

Senior Sophia whipped her head aside with a pout. “Ehem. W-what business is that of yours?”

The redness blooming across her cheeks told me enough; things were fine between them.

“Looks like it’s going well,” I replied.

“Ugh!”

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

“Y-yeah, hurry up and get lost!”

Chuckling, I headed toward the Class A classroom. When I opened the door, the classroom was empty. I lingered at the front, waiting for the Class A cadets to arrive, but even after an hour, no one came.

Is there no class today?So much for mustering the courage to face Laneige Maram. The anticlimax is almost comical, I thought.

“Ugh!”

I decided I would have to come back another time and stepped out of the building.

But just as I walked outside, voices came from behind the building, an isolated and shadowy corner few people ever passed.

Curious, I made my way over. “Hm?”

What I found was a young woman with violet hair, crouched on the ground, trembling violently.

“Ugh!”

A circle of cadets surrounded her, spitting venom.

“How many times do we have to tell you? Don’t strut around here like you belong, witch.”

“Stop throwing yourself at Aaron, you filthy slut.”

“Why the hell would the spawn of a demon crawl into a hero academy?”

“Pathetic. Still not dropping out, even after all this?”

“Just disappear already. We can’t stand the sight of your face.”

I was speechless. The sight was steeped in malice. Though the face of the girl with the violet hair was hidden as she curled into herself, there was no mistaking it. She was Laneige Maram, the Witch of the Night.

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