I Became a Swordsmanship Instructor in a Romance Novel

“Now then, let the ritual commence.”

The Lost Hopes pushed the sacrifices inward, forming a large circle around them.

“ΔχεΣυ……͵μχϖβϒ……ϢϦϊ……ιΤΤσαϐ……ϱέϋψ”

The Captain, eyes closed, muttered an ominous incantation in an unknown tongue.

The bishops followed suit, and then the Lost Hope devotees joined in unison.

An eerie atmosphere descended upon them, the air heavy with the weight of the unfamiliar, ominous language.

Unease crept into the hearts of the Eustia Knights.

“…Wh-What is this?”

“This is… ominous. What are they planning by drawing those strange symbols on our stomachs…?”

The knights frantically rubbed at the goosebumps that erupted on their arms, their eyes darting around nervously.

“…I-It’ll be alright. Look at the Duke.”

They tried to shake off their growing anxiety, turning their gaze towards Duke Eustia.

“…It’s alright. Remain calm. We’ll escape this predicament soon. I will not abandon you.”

He was bound by ropes, yet his face remained resolute, as if he hadn’t given up hope.

Duke Eustia was a strict master, but he was still the head of the grand Eustia Family.

His unyielding demeanor in the face of such a predicament gave the knights hope that they would survive if they followed him.

Little did they know, he had already made the decision to abandon them.

At some point, a shadow fell over the knights’ faces.

They looked up, noticing the change above.

Colorless clouds blanketed the sky, and a chilling wind whipped between them.

A thick, gray fog began to rise from the ground.

Gulp.

Something was about to happen.

A strange sensation washed over them—a feeling of their strength slowly draining away.

“Uh… Wh-What is…?”

Suddenly, a burning sensation erupted from the strange symbol carved into their abdomens.

“H-Hot! Aagh!!”

“υμιϢϦΔχΤαϐΤσεΣϱέϋχϖβϒϊψ!!!!”

The Lost Hopes continued their chanting, oblivious to the knights’ writhing and cries of pain.

Gasp—

Gasp—

“Haaaaack!!!”

“Kaaaaaaagh!!!!”

The breaths of the sacrificed knights grew ragged.

Heaving, they began to scream, one by one.

It felt as if their stomachs were being scorched by fire.

The Lost Hopes raised their arms towards the heavens, bowing low.

Their faces were alight with uncontainable anticipation and ecstasy.

“…Finally… Finally…! He is coming…! Our Master, our Judge, our Father…!!! He descends!!!”

The Knight Commander’s voice was filled with joy.

They raised their heads, tears welling up in their eyes as they stared at the sky.

Rumble—

A tremendous roar shook the ground.

“…Eh?”

A confused sound escaped the Captain’s lips.

His face, a moment ago hardened with determination, now contorted in confusion.

His pupils dilated.

With the boundary between the Middle World and the Spirit World blurred, and the gate forced open, he could sense the Demon King’s will with more clarity than ever before.

“…W-What do you mean… you cannot… descend…?”

The Lost Hopes’ gazes slowly turned towards their Captain.

His words, spoken with the fulfillment of their long-held desire a mere step away, were enough to stun them.

Confusion spread across their faces.

“…L-Captain…?”

“…Why… Why would the Demon King refuse to descend…?”

The Captain’s eyebrows furrowed.

The summoning circle was flawless, the sacrifices plentiful.

It was more than enough for the Demon King to manifest.

And more than anyone else, it was the Demon King who yearned to enter this world.

He had personally chosen this auspicious day, a day that occurred only once every 100 years when the boundary between the Middle World and the Spirit World weakened.

There was no reason for the summoning to fail.

“…Captain… perhaps the sacrifices are not to his liking…?”

“These sacrifices are far more numerous and full of life force than the humans we usually capture! Why wouldn’t he be pleased?!”

“…Perhaps… it’s because they weren’t prepared with the proper rituals… They were… acquired haphazardly…”

“…”

The Captain fell silent at the bishop’s words.

However, it was impossible to subject the sacrifices below to the rituals again.

Currently, an enemy powerful enough to kill a bishop was waiting right behind them.

Who knew when they would strike? To return below and prepare the rituals again?

That was a risk they couldn’t afford.

As the Lost Hopes descended into chaos…

The Eustia Knights, writhing in agony only moments ago, regained their senses.

The burning pain in their stomachs had vanished, but an ominous premonition settled over them—they wouldn’t survive if they stayed here any longer.

“…H-Hey… W-We have to escape. This isn’t right.”

“…Y-Yeah… We’re caught in something bad…”

They murmured amongst themselves, their eyes darting around nervously.

‘Duke Eustia… Could you truly…’

The Eustia Knight Commander had a keen sense of his lord’s character, honed over his long years of service.

He knew the Duke to be ruthless and calculating, but to think he would abandon the knights, the very power base of the Eustia Family… He refused to believe it until now.

Duke Eustia’s eyelids twitched, his face betraying his growing discomfort.

It was an expression the Knight Commander knew well—an expression that surfaced when things went wrong, when the Duke was displeased.

‘That damned… He expected us to die here. He sold us out!’

There was no more time to hesitate. Now, while the enemy was in disarray, was their only chance.

He made his decision. He would betray Eustia here and now.

“Eustia Knights!”

A roar, fueled by the depths of his being, erupted from his throat.

“Duke Eustia has betrayed us! As of this moment, the Eustia Knights are disbanded! Every man for himself! Run!!!”

He issued his final order as the Eustia Knight Commander—an order to flee.

His words spurred the hesitant knights into action.

“H-He’s insane!”

“Run!!!”

“The Duke abandoned his own knights! How could this be?!”

The Lost Hopes, their minds still reeling from the Demon King’s rejection, were slow to react to the knights’ sudden escape.

“…Captain, the sacrifices are escaping! We must make an example of them before they all get away!”

“…No. There’s no time. If the time for the advent passes, it will be too late.”

Once the window closed, who knew how long they would have to wait for another opportunity?

Two of their ten bishops were dead, one a traitor, the other slain in battle.

This was the most devastating blow the Lost Hopes had ever suffered.

To gather new members, to gauge the right time, to prepare for the advent once more…

The very existence of the Lost Hopes was at stake.

“…Then… we sacrifice ourselves.”

***

‘Yes!’

Zeke, hidden amongst the trees, watched the unfolding chaos with glee.

To think they would use the Eustia Knights as sacrifices!

If they were like the civilians, their spirits broken and resigned to their fate, there would be no opening for Zeke to exploit.

However, these were knights, their hands still gripping their swords even in the face of death. They continued to resist the Demon King’s pressure, even against their liege’s betrayal.

‘Besides, the only truly rotten one here is the Duke. It wouldn’t feel right letting them all die.’

As the knights struggled, a sliver of opportunity presented itself.

Zeke seized it, channeling his mana into the summoning ritual.

He imbued it with a clear, unmistakable message of provocation.

[Hey asshole, how’s that hole treating you?]

There was no way the Demon King would forget the human who had shoved his own broken horn up his ass.

He wouldn’t forget the humiliation, the beating that left him a tattered wreck, clinging to a sliver of his soul as he fled back to the Spirit World.

It was a trauma that likely haunted him to this day.

And it would be enough to make him refuse the summoning.

‘Not that he’ll just stay put…’

Zeke’s gaze shifted to the Lost Hopes.

They were now carving the symbols onto their own bodies, beginning their desperate prayers.

These were beings who had dedicated their lives to the advent of their pathetic, bullied Demon King.

If summoning him through the sacrifice of others was like knocking politely on his door, begging him to come out…

Then the Lost Hopes offering their own faith as a sacrifice was akin to breaking down his door and dragging him out by the hair.

The Demon King might hold dominion over the Lost Hopes, but to refuse their offering of faith would be to abandon the very title of ‘Demon King.’

He could reduce the ranks of the Lost Hopes without a single sacrifice on his part…

And capture him in a weakened state. It was a perfect plan.

Zeke watched the summoning ritual with anticipation.