As the elderly politics teacher shuffled out of the room with his bundle of scrolls and notes, Sarena stepped back in. Her usual strict expression was softened just slightly, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. The students all straightened up.
"Everyine," she called out firmly, "gather your gear. We're heading out."
Murmurs broke out instantly across the classroom, eyes lighting up.
"Where to, Professor Sarena?"
She gave a small nod toward the windows where the forest peaks could be seen in the distance. "A dungeon. Academy-controlled. Low ranked. Not far. We'll be traveling by foot."
That was all the students needed. Gasps, cheers, and excited chatter filled the room. Nobles who had never faced a monster outside of mock drills with their instructors were already grabbing their weapons and cloaks, eager to prove themselves.
Even Pete grinned, walking proudly near the front, his sword gleaming on his back as he muttered something about showcasing his true heroic spirit.
Ace stood up without a word and followed the group, his expression unreadable.
As they walked through the academy gates and into the edge of the sprawling forest, Sarena walked alongside the group and began explaining in her composed tone.
"This dungeon is categorized as low-risk, but don't let that fool you. The boss monster is a Fire Wolf. It can conjure and shoot fireballs. Before reaching it, you'll encounter a few packs of lesser wolves—quick, but manageable."
Some of the students nodded, mentally preparing themselves, while others gulped at the idea of real combat.
The march through the forest was short, the path well-trodden and marked with glowing stones enchanted by the academy. Soon, they reached a wide clearing where the forest trees curved around cave entrance marking the dungeon's entrance.
Already gathered at the clearing were the mage division students, easily distinguished by their long coats, staves, and the mana crystals adorning their belts.
At the center of their group stood their instructor—a middle-aged man, tall and robed in deep green. His long black hair was tied back, and a neatly kept beard framed his sharp face.
In his hand, he held a wooden staff topped with a mana stone that glowed faintly with residual energy.
Sarena stepped forward and gestured to him.
"This is Professor Elric Darnelle," she said. "First-rate mage, your instructor for this expedition."
Ace's eyes narrowed slightly as they met Elric's gaze. A subtle smirk tugged at the corners of the mage's lips—not one of kindness, but one hidden beneath layers of civility. Ace immediately remembered.
In the book, Elric Darnelle was the one who first enticed him toward the demons. A demon worshipper and a member of Salvation cult.
Ace didn't react. He simply looked away.
Sarena stepped back to take command again.
"We surveyed the dungeon this morning. The threat level remains unchanged. No high-tier mana signatures were detected. Only the students will be going in—this is a test of your coordination and skill."
Another wave of excitement surged through the students.
"For many of you, this will be your first battle against living monsters," Sarena continued. "No illusions. No holding back. You may be nobles, but monsters don't care about your house name. Fight like your life depends on it."
The words hit home. Even the more arrogant students now wore serious expressions. Some clenched their fists. Others double-checked their weapons.
Ace stood among them, quiet and unreadable as always.
Some students glanced at him, wondering how this was going to go. They had seen him walk out of the second-year classes. They had heard the rumors.
Now they were going to see how he fought in a real dungeon.
One by one, the students stepped past the cave entrance and into the dungeon.
A faint shift in pressure welcomed them. The damp, moss-slicked stone walls curved around them in a wide, echoing tunnel that stretched far into the dark. Strange, pale-blue crystals grew along the ceiling, casting an eerie glow across the mossy floors. The air was cool, still, and carried the faint scent of sulfur and something fouler—blood.
At the front, Pete strode confidently with Catherine beside him. She walked with elegance, her staff loosely in hand, golden strands of her hair glowing faintly in the blue light. She was half-listening to the one who wouldn't stop talking.
Petr.
"I'll handle anything that comes our way," he declared, hand on the hilt of his sword, puffing out his chest. "You just stay close, alright? If I take a hit, your healing's all I need. Not that it'll happen in this low-level place, of course!"
Catherine gave him the glance—one of polite disinterest—and didn't bother responding. She instead looked ahead, her eyes alert, focused on the deeper part of the tunnel.
Meanwhile, in the rear of the group, Ace walked alone.
Or so he thought.
"Brother."
He glanced to the side to see Lucy walking up beside him. Her steps were small, but her determination was visible. She looked around nervously, hand hovering near the sword at her side, but her gaze held trust—for him.
Ace nodded at her silently and kept walking.
Behind him, Emilia trailed with slow, deliberate steps. Her golden-green hair shimmered like a veil of sunlight in a forest.
Her spirits, though invisible to most, peeked out from behind her—one with a curious gaze, the others more cautious. Emilia said nothing. She simply observed, eyes fixed on Ace with an unreadable expression.
The tunnel twisted and sloped downward. Occasionally, groups of wolves would dart out from the side tunnels—snarling, hungry, glowing eyes gleaming in the dark. But they were no threat.
The mages raised their staffs. A few simple spells—[Stone Bind], [Lightning Dart], [Mana Arrow]—and the wolves collapsed before they got close.
The archers, too, fired with precision, cleanly taking down stragglers.
But the one who dominated the front of the party was Pete.
Charging into each wave with a loud cry, he struck the wolves down with flashy movements and loud declarations of valor. He made sure his blade shimmered with every swing, turning back after each small skirmish to check if Catherine was watching. She was, but with amusement, it was more like she was watching a buffoon dance.
As there was no elegance in Pete's swordsmanship, it was crude but with the support of holy sword, it was somewhat good.
Despite his theatrics, the group made quick progress.
Soon, they reached a wide, hollow chamber, carved roughly by nature and time. At the far end stood the dungeon's boss.
The Fire Wolf.
It was far larger than the minions—twice the size of a warhorse, with burning red fur that flickered like dancing flames. Its eyes were molten amber, leaking heat into the cold air. Fire pulsed beneath its ribs with every breath.
But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Ace's eyes narrowed.
Its fangs were too long. Its fur too dark in patches—blotched with a shadow-like corruption that pulsed and rippled with unnatural motion. Demonic energy.
Veins of black-red aura danced around its limbs, as if the very air rejected it. The ground beneath its claws hissed with decay, even as flame scorched it.
The students noticed too.
"That... isn't standard for this dungeon."
The Fire Wolf let out a low, guttural growl that echoed through the chamber like a drumbeat. Flames rippled across its back, and demonic mist curled from its jaws.
The students—once excited and fearless—began to hesitate. Whispers of worry passed among them.
Just like in the book.
Ace watched from the rear as the Fire Wolf growled low, its eyes glowing brighter with every breath. The demonic energy seeped out of its body like smoke, corrupting the air itself. This was the moment. In the story, it had been Pete's.
This was supposed to be his chance.
Pete fought the beast with his harem, shielded Catherine and Emilia to the end, and stood bloodied yet proud by the end. He had earned everyone's respect that day—an image of a hero who rose when others faltered.
Ace narrowed his eyes.
But this wasn't the book anymore.
"Retreat!" Pete suddenly shouted, voice cracking as the wolf's aura bore down on them. "Everyone, get back! I'll hold it off!"
The nobles didn't argue. They were already trembling. They turned to retreat as soon as they heard Pete.
Catherine hesitated for a heartbeat, unsure. Emilia took a step forward—but stopped. The weight of the demonic pressure suffocated even the strongest among them.
Pete turned to face the beast, sword raised, jaw clenched in defiance.
But before anyone could blink—
A quiet footstep echoed in the chamber.
Ace.
He walked forward, calm, eyes fixed on the Fire Wolf.
Sword in hand, its red-metal blade shimmered faintly in the corrupted light.
"Brother! What are you—" Lucy began to call out behind him, but her voice died.
The Fire Wolf growled, then lunged—fast, flame trailing behind its form like a comet.
Ace's head tilted slightly, gaze sharp.
Then—
Whoosh.
The world seemed to still.
He stepped aside. Just enough.
The wolf's jaws missed by a breath.
Then in a single fluid motion—clean, graceful, absolute—Ace's sword cut through the air.
A sharp sound.
Metal slicing flesh.
The wolf landed on the ground behind him with a heavy thud, stumbling once.
Then collapsed.
His blade had pierced straight into its heart.
The demonic flames that once burned across its back flickered, then vanished. The unnatural aura dissolved like smoke, leaving only silence behind.
Dead.
In one strike.
Every student—those who had paused to look back—stood frozen.
Pete, who had been gripping his sword with white knuckles, blinked in disbelief.
Catherine's lips parted slightly, as if trying to say something.
Emilia's golden-green hair shimmered faintly as her eyes followed the red blade in Ace's hand.
Not a drop of blood touched him.
The only sound was the gentle hum of the still-dying mana from the wolf's remains.
Then the silence shattered—shocked whispers surged among the students.
"H-He… killed it in one blow…"
"That was the dungeon boss…"
"And it was infused by demonic energy too…"
"Is this… even human?"
Even Pete said nothing.
Not even an empty boast. He only felt something his was stolen from him.
His chance to shine just taken by someone else.
He was supposed to be happy that nobody's hurt, but he felt annoyed, not by the fact that the wolf was slain, but it was Ace who killed the wolf and with ease at it.
The story had changed.
Ace turned his head slightly toward the group.
"Let's go," he said flatly.
And just like that, the scene that was meant to elevate a hero… belonged to someone else now.
Just as the students were catching their breath and preparing to leave the dungeon chamber, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the tunnel.