Demon King’s Academy

✦ Chapter 5 ✦

「Translator – Creator」

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚  ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

A new week began on Monday.

It was also the day the new semester truly kicked off.

“…Haah.”

The students, gathered on the training grounds, wore expressions of exhaustion and bewilderment; the dramatic events that had unfolded in the grand hall that morning had left them shaken.

The introduction of new teachers.

On the surface, it seemed like a trivial matter.

“Kindeman and Rugeros… ”

However, these new instructors happened to be Great Heroes.

And not only that…

“Skeleton instructors.”

Undead. Skeletons.

Undead were monsters, creatures to be feared and eradicated. That was what they had been taught from a young age. Yet, here they were, with a lowest-rank Skeleton as their teacher at Terran Academy.

“Does this make any sense?”

“Is the headmaster out of his mind?”

The students whispered amongst themselves, glancing nervously over their shoulders.

Every word, every action had to be carefully considered.

“I came here thinking I could do whatever I wanted at Terran… ”

Their motivations for attending Terran Academy varied.

Some had enrolled to escape the suffocating control of their families, seeking the freedom that came with being a Hero candidate.

The status of a prospective Hero carried a certain weight, granting a level of autonomy that ordinary students could only dream of.

Especially at a place like Terran, with its lax rules and declining reputation.

“I imagined it would be a paradise…”

They’d envisioned a life of indulgence, pleasure, and freedom.

But reality was a far cry from their fantasies.

“Paradise? This is a freaking nightmare!”

A gray, bleak reality.

“It’s not even gray, it’s pitch black.”

The headmaster was a Demon King, and dozens of teachers had been slaughtered overnight.

Paradise had turned into a dark abyss, with no end in sight.

— Attention, all first-year students.

Rayze’s voice, amplified by a magical device, echoed across the training grounds.

Only the first-years were present.

— We will now begin aptitude and potential assessments, followed by class assignments.

A familiar sight at any Hero academy.

The first step in a Hero candidate’s journey was to undergo a series of tests to determine their strengths and weaknesses.

A process known as…

Hero Aptitude Assessment.

It was the first and most crucial step in the journey to becoming a Hero.

— Each student should put on the Hero’s Crown when called.

A thorny, crown-like helmet sat atop a pedestal in the center of the training grounds.

The Heroes’ Crown, a replica of a helmet worn by one of the first Heroes, was said to reveal a student’s potential for being a Hero.

— Alfredo.

It had been passed down through generations, finding its way to academies across the continent.

The first student, his name called out, stepped forward and placed the helmet on his head.

“Ugh.”

The thorns pierced his scalp, drawing a small amount of blood.

As blood seeped into the Hero’s crown, a miracle unfolded.

*Whoosh!*

A flower bloomed.

One, two.

And no more flowers appeared after that.

— Alfredo, Grade-Low.

Rayze’s voice echoed across the training grounds.

The Hero’s Crown evaluated a student’s aptitude based on the number of flowers that bloomed. Two flowers or less indicated a lack of any special qualities, essentially marking the student as average.

“Tch.”

Alfredo, though slightly disappointed, accepted the result with a shrug. He had already known If he had any real talent, he wouldn’t have ended up at Terran.

— Next.

The assessment continued, determining the fate of each student who stepped forward.

☩

“One hundred new students in total,” Rayze reported, standing before Louis in the headmaster’s office.

“The Hero Aptitude Assessments are complete.”

The first day of the new semester had come to an end.

All of the newly enrolled students had undergone the Hero aptitude test, the first step in their journey towards being a Hero Those who displayed promising potential would undergo further testing, their physical abilities and unique traits carefully analyzed.

The results were as expected of a place like Terran.

“Seventy-three Grade-Low.”

A testament to Terran’s reputation as a bottom-tier academy.

These students, having produced two flowers or less, were essentially ordinary individuals with no notable talents.

It was hardly surprising.

Who would send a gifted child to Terran?

Becoming a Hero came with immense wealth and prestige.

A commoner could rise to the ranks of nobility, and a noble could further elevate their standing within society.

Only those who had been cast aside by their families—troublemakers, delinquents, or those lured by the promise of financial rewards—ended up at Terran.

“Seventeen Grade-Intermediate.”

These were students who had bloomed three to five flowers on the Crown.

They possessed no unique traits but displayed a natural talent in a particular area.

Swordsmanship, magic…they showed promise in specific fields.

Most of these students were unaware of their talents before undergoing the assessment, their abilities lying dormant, waiting to be awakened by the power of the Heroes’ Crown.

“Nine Grade-High.”

This was where things got interesting.

These students, the ones who had produced six or more flowers,

“We’ve already conducted additional tests to identify their specific traits…”

…possessed unique abilities or traits.

Regeneration, Blessing, Sword Mastery… rare and powerful talents that could potentially elevate them to the ranks of Heroes.

Grade-High individuals typically displayed their abilities from a young age.

The fact that these students had ended up at Terran meant that there were extenuating circumstances surrounding their situations.

“The numbers don’t add up.”

Rayze gulped, her throat suddenly dry.

Even she couldn’t believe it.

Rayze, a Hero, had bloomed…

‘Ten.’

…ten flowers during her Hero Aptitude test.

An evaluation marking her as possessing top-tier talent.

Her abilities were so extraordinary that she could receive the highest regard at any academy across the continent and become a Hero with minimal training.

Occasionally, more than ten buds would bloom, but such cases were virtually unheard of for centuries.

And now…

“This is…”

A problem had arisen this time.

One student, out of the hundred new recruits…

He had bloomed…

“Zero.”

No buds at all.

Not a single flower bloomed.

“Zero?”

“Yes. Normally, even if a student has no talent, the Hero’s Crown will still bloom at least one flower.”

This was a fact proven countless times by previous Hero’s Crown tests.

But now and then, there were exceptions.

…when no flowers bloomed at all.

In those cases…

“There are only two possibilities.”

With his extensive knowledge of the Hero’s Crown, Louis spoke with certainty.

“Either they are destined for greatness…”

Possessing a potential so vast, so extraordinary that the Hero’s Crown couldn’t even comprehend it.

Or…

“…or they are destined for darkness.”

A talent that should never, could never, be nurtured.

“What’s his name?”

Louis’s eyes gleamed as he directed his question to Reige.

“Chris. A commoner, no family name.”

Rayze had recorded Chris as having bloomed one flower, but…

…she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach.

☩

The class assignments were completed.

Typically, Terran divided its students into classes of around twenty, students who would spend the year together, learning and growing alongside each other.

Each class had a homeroom teacher, and unless unforeseen circumstances arose, the class rosters remained unchanged.

This semester, however, was different.

The lack of teachers meant fewer instructors were available to serve as homeroom teachers, and the two Skeletons weren’t ready for such responsibilities.

As a result…

“Three classes for the first-years, huh?”

Terran’s first-year students were split into only three classes.

“This is insane.”

Students cursed as they studied the class assignments posted on the bulletin board in the hallway.

“Class-C, seventy-three students? Is this for real?”

One look at the class roster confirmed their suspicions.

“All Grade-Low.”

Every single student who had bloomed two flowers or less from the Hero’s Crown test had been placed in Class-C. One giant class, filled with the academy’s rejects.

“Is this… even allowed?”

Even for Terran, this was unheard of.

Seventy-three students in a single class? How were they supposed to function?

“It’s not unheard of. Orca Academy does this too.”

“But that’s…”

“It means he’s serious.”

One student offered their insight.

“He’s genuinely trying to create Heroes. He’s pouring everything into students with higher potential.”

“But that means…”

“What’s wrong with that?”

A silver-haired student spoke up, their tone challenging.

The name on his badge read “Roberto.

A vivid yellow hue signified his status — a first-year student.

“This is the Hero Academy. A place to become a Hero.”

“As if anyone would become a hero at a dump like Terran…”

At his muttered words, the silver-haired student stepped closer with purpose.

Tall and imposing, his sharp eyes bore down on the other student.

“I. Will. Become. A Hero.”

“The Mad Dog! It’s Roberto the Mad Dog!”

Someone shouted, recognizing the silver-haired boy.

The Mad Dog.

His notoriety had spread across the continent even before he enrolled at Terran.

He was known for his violent temper, his willingness to engage in brutal brawls, and even rumors of murder; his own family, unable to control him any longer, had practically exiled him to Terran.

And his class…

[Class A… Roberto Alfonso]

Class-A.

The top class, reserved for those who displayed the highest potential for being a Hero.

“Don’t think for a second that just because Terran is a dump…that I’m trash.”

Roberto growled, his voice low and menacing, as he strode away.

“Let’s go.”

Other students followed suit. Whether suppressing complaints, showing indifference, or simply accepting their lot, they all moved to find their respective classes.

Having entered the academy, they had no choice but to abide by its rules.

If this had been the old Terran, students would have immediately retreated to their dormitories to throw drunken revelries.

But now—

[Ehehehehee!]

…the unsettling laughter of the self-proclaimed guardian of Terran, the Elder Lich, echoed through the halls, a constant reminder of the new reality.

“I doubt they’ll even accept withdrawal forms…”

Murmuring despairingly, the students trickled away, one by one.

Class-C, which had merged three groups into one due to overcrowding, now housed 73 students.

Class-B consisted of 17 students.

And finally—

“…………….”

A mere 10 students made up Class-A.

These ten students were the ones with the potential to become true Heroes, individuals who would be sought after by academies across the continent.

That is, as long as they didn’t bring serious problems.

“Who’s this?”

A student noticed an unfamiliar name on the list.

“No surname? A commoner, then?”

A commoner with no surname…

“Chri—?”

“What are you waiting for? Hurry up! Do you want to get caught…and suffer the consequences?”

“R-Right! Coming!”

The student who had been trying to read the name quickly scurried off.

Now, the only one left standing before the class assignment board was—

“…………..”

— a small boy with fiery red hair.

“I’m in…”

He stared at the board with a worried expression.

Someone like him, who had only managed to bloom a single bud during the Hero’s Crown test, had somehow been placed in—

[Class-A… Chris]

Class-A.

A class filled with the academy’s top-tier students.

He stood there for a long moment, frozen in uncertainty.

*BONG!*

The loud chime of a bell abruptly snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh no!”

As a commoner, he couldn’t afford to be late; the consequences could be dire.

He scrambled into action, racing toward his assigned classroom.

☩

Ten desks.

Ten students.

Though they sat in an orderly fashion, there was no sense of unity among them.

Each of them seemed unable to hide their inherent nature, creating a palpable discord in the atmosphere.

They sat only because they had to—nothing more.

The tension in the room was so thick that it felt as if someone could snap at any moment; the air was ready to ignite.

“Shit.”

The words slipped from Roberto, the infamous Mad Dog, breaking the fragile silence.

“Shut up, you idiot.”

Erna, a girl with blue hair, furrowed her brow and glared at Roberto.

“Are you talking to me?”

The situation was already on the verge of exploding.

It felt like the room itself could go up in flames at any second.

Then, at that exact moment—

*Creeeak!*

The door to the classroom creaked open

And He walked in.

“Nice to meet you.”

The new homeroom teacher for Class-A had arrived.

END σϝ CHAPTER

☩

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