Time: 5:00 AM
The first sunlight split the horizon.
The battlefield in the sky—once thunder, chaos, war—went silent.
Clouds glowed gold beneath the rising sun.
Headmaster Azelar stood on a shattered rooftop, staring upward.
His hand shook. His eyes trembled.
Because he finally saw what Lucilla knew.
What every student could not believe.
The monster Mary had fought…
was an eight-year-old boy.
His student.
Asura.
Azelar whispered, voice hoarse:
"...We tried to seal a child."
The truth hit like a falling star.
Above the clouds, Mary's eyes fluttered.
Her alter ego slept.
For the first time in hours… she was simply Mary.
Then her body tilted.
Gravity took her.
She began to fall.
FWOOOM—!!
Azelar didn't hesitate.
He teleported—clean, sharp, controlled—and caught her mid-air, cradling her against his chest.
She was light. Too light.
Her pulse trembled.
"Mary—stay with me…"
His voice cracked.
Her fingers twitched faintly, brushing his coat.
He exhaled a shaky breath, relief washing over him.
But the artifact slipped from his other hand.
He didn't even notice.
Asura remained standing.
Midair.
Alone.
Silent.
A spear of music still impaled his heart, driven all the way through bone.
His hair—once long and black as void—shortened inch by inch.
His horns cracked, dissolving like dust.
His crimson eyes faded back to warm gold.
His awakening vanished.
The power dissipated.
And suddenly—he was just a boy again.
A boy with a spear through his chest.
Lucilla floated behind him, wings trembling from strain.
She reached for him, grabbing his shoulders to keep him upright.
"Stay with me. Do you hear me?"
"...Asura, stay with me."
He blinked drowsily, fighting the weight of sleep.
His flight skill tried to keep him aloft, flickering like a dying candle.
He's too light now… too fragile.
Lucilla shifted her grip, pulling him onto her back, supporting his weight easily.
Her heartbeat raced.
His… slowed.
Something glinted.
Lucilla turned.
Floating beside them—untouched by gravity—hovered the sealing artifact Azelar dropped.
A block of metal.
Not steel.
Not mortal.
Divine.
A perfect square of unknown metal that refracted light into every color, surrounded by gold that formed intricate scripture-like rings.
Elegant. Ancient.
Her blood ran cold.
She knew that description.
Her mother—the Queen of Vampires—had spoken of it.
The Artifact of Oblivion.
A divine construct rumored to erase beings reality cannot contain.
Lucilla's voice cracked into a whisper.
"No…"
The artifact hummed.
Gold rings rotated around it.
Scripture ignited like fire.
And it pointed at Asura.
A translucent window flickered in front of Asura's eyes.
[ !! CRITICAL DANGER DETECTED !! ]
[ Unknown Divine Artifact initiating Existence Erasure behavior. ]
[ If sealed, Host will:
— be removed from memory
— decompose at an atomic level
— cease to exist ]
[ Recommendation: RUN. ]
Asura could barely keep his eyes open.
Lucilla wrapped both arms around him protectively.
"NO. NO—YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM."
Her aura surged violently, pink lightning ripping across the sky.
She didn't care about the academy.
She didn't care about the consequences.
She would not lose him.
She would throw away the world first.
Her voice cracked as the artifact pulsed again.
"If that seals him— I'll never see him again."
Her knees shook.
"Not even death could take him from me…"
Dark tendrils—black, endless, starless—unfurled from the artifact.
Not vines.
Not aura.
Tendrils made of void.
They slithered toward Asura's body, reaching for his chest where the spear still pierced him.
Lucilla screamed—
"ASURA, NO!"
But his vision blurred.
Asura blinked slowly, body swaying.
He saw the tendrils reaching.
Saw the system warnings.
Saw Lucilla's tear-filled eyes.
Then—
Nothing.
His golden vision dimmed.
His last conscious thought:
Really… You've got to be kidding me…
Darkness swarmed.
✦ The Weight of a Mistake
The artifact pulsed.
Tendrils of void wrapped tighter around Asura's fading form, dragging him backward inch by inch — pulling him into a prison outside existence.
Lucilla fought with everything she had.
She dug her nails into the artifact's divine frame, aura roaring around her, wings ripping the air.
"LET HIM GO—!!"
Her voice cracked into raw desperation.
The system window flickered across Asura's half-closed vision:
[ Target locked. Existence Erasure in progress. ]
[ Artifact deactivation: IMPOSSIBLE ]
[ Physical destruction: IMPOSSIBLE ]
[ Escape threshold: unreachable ]
Lucilla gasped, horror hitting her all at once.
"It won't stop…"
She remembered something.
A voice from her childhood.
Her mother — the Vampire Queen — speaking in the ancient blood palace:
"Once a divine sealing artifact chooses its prey, there are only three outcomes:destroy the artifact, or die first,and be erased."
Lucilla's heart shattered.
She wrapped both arms around Asura's torso, teeth gritted, fangs bared.
Her wings tore at the air, beating violently.
FWOOOM—!!
Lucilla shot forward with near-light speed, dragging Asura's limp body and the artifact's Tendrils that clung to him.
Her bones screamed.
Veins burst in her eyes.
Asura's weight — normal again — slumped into her arms.
He was unconscious.
She screamed in his ear, voice breaking:
"WAKE UP! ASURA, PLEASE—!!"
No response.
Tendrils wrapped tighter, pulling him away from her grip.
Lucilla howled like a wounded animal.
"STOP—!!!"
With one final burst of strength, Asura was ripped free and the artifact sealed him and remained in the sky above the clouds.
Lucilla screamed, then launched herself as fast as she could at the artifact trying her hardest to get Asura back.
Then the tendrils latched onto Lucilla.
Instantly she felt the burning—
her existence tugged like loose threads being pulled apart.
Yet she didn't let go.
"If I have to disappear, then… I'll disappear WITH YOU!"
Her wings trembled.
Her knees buckled.
She flew.
The campus blurred beneath her — instructors, students, buildings — colors smearing past her failing vision.
She slammed down into the courtyard.
BOOOOM—!!
Stone cracked under her impact.
Dust exploded outward.
Lucilla collapsed to her knees, still clutching the artifact to her chest with both arms.
She screamed desperately through tears:
"HEADMASTER—HELP ME!!"
"PLEASE—HELP HIM!!"
Her small body shook violently.
She held the artifact like it was the only thing anchoring her sanity.
Blood ran down her arms where the tendrils burned her skin.
Azelar appeared in front of her in a flash of teleportation.
He didn't see the artifact at first.
All he saw was Lucilla — trembling, broken, eyes streaming with tears.
Then he finally focused on what she held.
His pupils shrank.
The artifact.
Activated.
And she was fighting it alone.
His voice died in his throat.
"No… no no no—"
He grabbed her shoulders, panic surging through him.
"Lucilla — where is the target? Where's the one being sealed?"
Lucilla's voice broke into a whisper that shattered him:
"I–I lost him… I couldn't hold onto him…"
Azelar froze.
The realization struck him like lightning.
He looked at the artifact.
It glowed with violent, divine light.
It had already claimed its target.
And it wasn't Lucilla.
It was Asura.
Azelar fell to his knees.
The world around him went silent.
His voice was hollow.
"I… I sealed a student."
He stared at the artifact in her hands, horror twisting his face.
"I sealed a child…"
He ran a hand through his hair, shaking, breaking.
"I… I did that."
He tried to convince himself, voice cracking:
"I didn't know… I didn't— I couldn't—"
"It wasn't my fault."
He whispered it again.
And again.
"It wasn't my fault."
But he wasn't convincing anyone.
Not even himself.
An instructor approached — the same dragon-kin who caught Mary earlier.
One arm missing. Covered in cuts.
But alive.
Behind him lay Mary — unconscious, damaged, but breathing normally.
He dragged himself over, exhausted yet relieved.
"We… we did it, right?"
He scanned the courtyard.
Mary alive.
Headmaster alive.
No corpses.
Then he spotted the unconscious vampire student clutching a divine artifact.
"Huh? Why's she holding that?"
He scratched his head, tired and confused.
"Headmaster… that's the artifact, isn't it? So… we won, right? No casualties?"
Azelar didn't answer.
He just stared at the artifact as if it was cutting into him.
The instructor knelt beside him.
"Sir? We're safe… right?"
That's when he heard it.
Azelar's whisper.
Soft.
Broken.
Regret-filled.
"I sealed… Asura."
The instructor paled.
"...the new transfer student?"
Azelar didn't blink.
"No."
He looked up — eyes haunted.
"The heir of the Demon King."
Silence swept the courtyard.
Students stopped breathing.
Lucilla clutched the artifact like it was her heart.
And somewhere, within the artifact—
Asura's consciousness slipped deeper and deeper into the void.
✦ The Void Inside the Seal
The dragon-kin instructor—his one remaining arm shaking—stared at Lucilla.
She was unconscious.
And the artifact was still active.
Divine tendrils of void energy were latched onto her chest, feeding off her mana, trying to drag her in next.
He tried prying it out of her hands—
"Let go—!"
"Come on—!"
The artifact fought him.
Tendrils whipped, trying to sink deeper into Lucilla.
His eyes widened.
"It's not sealing her… it's protecting itself."
A murderous artifact defending its prize.
Asura.
Lucilla wasn't being chosen to be sealed—
she was being eliminated for touching it.
The realization hit him like ice down his spine.
"It sealed the boy… and now it's preventing anyone from taking him back."
He grit his teeth.
He couldn't break the artifact.
He couldn't deactivate it.
But—
He could interrupt the latch.
He exhaled, closed his eyes, and pressed his palm to the divine metal.
He whispered the command all dragon-clan inheritors knew:
"Kael'thran Vidus."
(Sacrifice… transfer.)
His remaining arm flared red—bone, flesh, scales dissolving into light.
The tendrils let go of Lucilla and latched onto him instead.
He screamed.
But he held the artifact away from her.
"HEADMASTER—DEACTIVATE IT—NOW!"
The Headmaster's burned, shaking hand slammed against the seal-script.
"SEAL—DISMISS!"
BOOOOOM—!!
The artifact destabilized.
Tendrils snapped and vanished.
Lucilla collapsed fully, safe.
The dragon instructor slumped beside her, panting, missing both arms now.
He forced out a weak laugh.
"Two arms… is a cheap price if the kid lives."
From inside the artifact—
There was no floor.
No sky.
Just a boundless void that looked like space without stars.
Asura floated in the middle—limbs limp, eyes closed, spear wound visible but frozen in time.
His system flickered into existence nearby—
a glowing interface, the only light.
[ EMERGENCY MODE: ACTIVE ]
[ Host consciousness unresponsive. ]
[ Attempting wake sequence… ]
Nothing.
The system's voice, normally neutral, trembled at the edges.
[ Asura Satomi. Wake up. ]
Still nothing.
Warning chimes echoed like distant bells.
[ Host integrity degrading. ]
[ Existence erosion: 0.02% … increasing. ]
Then—
For the first time—
the System failed to generate a directive.
Static flooded its interface.
[ …Error… host persistence required… ]
Static rippled through the void.
Something old stirred deeper inside that darkness.
Watching.
Smiling.
Instructors carried Lucilla and Mary to the infirmary.
The dragon instructor stumbled along, bandaged stumps where his arms used to be.
The Headmaster was half-dragged into his office, numb and pale.
He collapsed into his chair.
"I sealed… a demon prince…"
Another instructor rubbed his face.
"You mean the Demon King's grandson."
Silence.
Pure, suffocating dread.
One instructor whispered:
"We need help. We can't fix this."
Another snapped.
"And tell WHO? 'Hey, Demon King, we erased your heir from existence by accident'?"
Everyone tensed.
Death. War. Kingdom collapse.
All possible outcomes.
One instructor swallowed.
"What about the other kingdoms? Maybe a Creation God's relic? A Holy Emperor? Someone—"
The others turned on him.
"And when they hear we have a demon prince sealed in an artifact? They'll use him."
"Or worse—they'll inform the Demon King first."
"We'll be dead before the second syllable leaves our mouths."
The room shook with panic.
No one spoke the obvious truth:
They were out of time.
If Asura wasn't freed soon, the artifact would erase him completely.
The Headmaster slammed his palm onto the desk.
"Someone—ANYONE—give me an idea that doesn't end in extinction."
Silence.
Then—
the dragon instructor, weak but conscious, smirked.
"We don't need to tell the Demon King."
Everyone turned.
He grinned with bloody teeth.
"We tell the Demon Queen."
✦ The Demon Queen & The System's Desperation
Torchlight flickered.
Every instructor stood around the war table, eyes hollow from shock.
At the center lay the divine artifact—
palm-sized, iridescent, terrifying.
The Headmaster rubbed his temples like he aged a century in thirty minutes.
"We can't tell the Demon King.
We locked his grandson in a divine object that erases the being.
He'll personally decorate the Academy walls with our spines."
Silence.
Someone whispered:
"We need to reach someone stronger… someone who can break divine rules."
A male instructor scoffed.
"Who? A God?"
The dragon instructor—now bandaged and armless—leaned back against the wall.
"No.
The one person even gods were scared of."
Half the room held their breath.
"The Retired Demon Queen."
Eyes widened.
Someone dropped a quill.
"The myth? She's been missing for—"
"—Sixteen hundred years."
"No one knows where she went."
"No proof she exists anymore."
The Headmaster exhaled.
"We don't need proof.
We need a miracle."
He turned toward the dragon instructor.
"Do we even know how to contact her?"
The instructor nodded toward a dusty glass case.
Inside:
A scroll sealed with black wax.
"The last Demon Queen left one method for emergencies.
Only to be used if the Demon Kingdom was ever in divine danger."
The room froze.
They had crossed that line hours ago.
The Headmaster hesitated only one second.
Then broke the glass.
Black magic rippled through the room as the scroll unfurled itself, ink shifting like living shadow.
A single instruction written in abyssal glyphs appeared:
"Burn this under light and speak the bloodline name."
Everyone looked at each other.
Nobody wanted to say it first.
Finally, the Headmaster inhaled and spoke the name aloud—
"Zerathos."
The scroll burst into silent black fire
and vanished.
The Headmaster swallowed.
"Either we just summoned help…
or we just signed our death warrant."
The Void Beyond Matter
Silence.
Cold.
Weightless.
Asura floated in an endless black expanse, body slack, spear still lodged through his chest.
His system remained the only conscious thing—
a dim, flickering interface like a heartbeat.
The System tried again.
[ HOST: UNRESPONSIVE ]
[ EXISTENCE EROSION: 0.6% … accelerating ]
The system hesitated.
Then — broke protocol.
[ Emergency override triggered. ]
[ Unknown function responding. ]
A burst of impossible light.
The spear slowly pushed itself out of Asura's chest.
The wound sealed instantly—
Not regeneration.
Not magic.
Something responding to the seal itself.
Asura sucked in a breath like a drowning man breaking the surface.
He blinked, looking down at his bare torso.
"…did I just get stabbed in the heart again? Dude. I need a punch card for this."
The system practically shrieked.
[ HOST—STOP JOKING AND FOCUS. ]
Asura stretched like he woke from a nap.
"No, but seriously.
Did you see how cool that transformation was?
I had wings. Black lightning. Markings—bro, I was awesome."
[ Current location: A DIVINE SEALING VOID. ]
[ Please stop celebrating. ]
Asura blinked, looked around.
"Huh. This… doesn't look like the Academy."
He casually waved at the void.
"…did I get isekai'd inside the seal?"
The system didn't even try to hide the panic.
[ You were SEALED in a DIVINE ARTIFACT. ]
[ It is attempting to ERASE YOU FROM EXISTENCE. ]
Asura froze mid-stretch.
"…say sike."
[ Not sike. ]
"Erase erase?
Like… delete my save file?"
[ Delete your character from the game. Permanently. ]
[ Including your atoms. ]
[ Including the concept of you. ]
Asura's grin vanished.
His voice dropped.
"…so full-delete permadeath."
[ Yes. ]
He raised a hand like he was answering a teacher.
"Okay, easy fix.
We just destroy the artifact from the inside out."
[ Attempt rated: 65% success IF you were still transformed. ]
[ In your current state?
0.004%.]
He stood there.
Thought.
Nodded.
"…Solid odds."
[ NO. ]
[ THAT IS NOT SOLID. ]
Asura tapped his chin.
"But it's not zero."
The system sounded exhausted.
[ I regret ever being installed into you. ]
Asura smirked.
"Relax.
We'll figure it out.
I always break out of stuff."
He turned, finally noticing the endless void swirling like liquid night.
His expression slowly shifted—
not fear.
Excitement.
"So this is a divine artifact's belly, huh?
Alright. Let's jailbreak a god-forged prison."
The void trembled.
Something ancient stirred far below.
Watching.
Amused.
✦ The Demon Queen Descends
Night wind.
Silence.
Then reality buckled.
A tear of shadow opened in the center of the Academy courtyard.
From the rift stepped a woman.
Bare feet touched stone first — pale, smooth, untouched by age or time.
A see-through black dress flowed around her like smoke, revealing smooth curves yet somehow more regal than indecent.
Short, messy obsidian curls framed her face.
Her lips were painted black.
Black horns — polished and sharp — curved elegantly back from her skull.
No aura flared.
Not yet.
The world simply refused to breathe.
Every instructor, and even the Headmaster froze.
She looked around slowly, bored expression masking something ancient.
"Which of you," she murmured, "called me from my peace?"
Her voice was soft — almost lazy —
yet it carried enough weight to crush kingdoms.
The scroll ashes still smoldered nearby.
The Headmaster swallowed hard and stepped forward.
He didn't make it three steps before—
BOOM—
An aura explosion flattened the courtyard like a silent bomb.
Every single person dropped to their knees.
They didn't bow.
They collapsed.
Even Tier IV and V instructors trembled violently, hands pressed into the dirt, teeth rattling.
Some students fainted on the spot.
The Demon Queen blinked at them, mildly confused as to why they were on the ground.
"I merely breathed."
The Headmaster forced his head up, spine shaking.
"R–Retired Demon Queen… w-we summoned you because—"
She cut him off with a look.
Her aura sharpened like a blade against his throat.
"You used my scroll."
"There is no divine aura. No war. No catastrophe."
"So why," she leaned in, voice like death's whisper,
"did you disturb me?"
She didn't shout.
And yet several instructors vomited from pressure.
The Headmaster fought to breathe.
"A student… was sealed."
Her eyes shifted.
Slowly.
Glacially.
Toward the table behind him.
Where the divine artifact sat — shimmering with forbidden color.
Her lashes lowered, voice monotone.
"That scroll was meant for a third divine war.
Not… petty school mishaps."
The pressure multiplied.
Cracks veined across the stone under their bodies.
One instructor sobbed.
"W–we didn't know what else to do."
The Demon Queen stepped closer to the artifact.
Her bare feet left frost in their wake.
Black lips curved downward.
"Why was a sealing artifact used at all?"
No answer came.
Because there wasn't a good one.
The Headmaster forced the words, voice trembling.
"Because… the one sealed… was a threat."
Her eyes narrowed —
the temperature dropped ten degrees.
"Which student."
He closed his eyes and forced himself to say it.
"…Prince Asura."
Time stopped.
Even the wind held still.
Her gaze sharpened like a falling guillotine.
"Prince," she repeated.
A beat.
"Demon King's grandson."
She blinked slowly, shock finally bleeding through her calm mask.
"The Demon King… has a grandson?"
The Headmaster nodded stiffly, terrified.
"Through his daughter… the princess."
The Demon Queen's pupils contracted.
A memory flickered —
war, blood, the Demon King on his knees holding a daughter's broken body—
—killed in battle.
She did not speak that memory aloud.
Not yet.
Her voice dropped, low and sharp.
"The princess died."
The Headmaster flinched.
"That's what we believed. But… she lived long enough to bear a child."
The Demon Queen stared at the artifact again.
Everything inside her shifted.
Old emotions she didn't permit herself to feel twisted inside her chest.
Loss.
Regret.
Something bordering on grief.
Then anger.
"And instead of calling the Demon King…
...you called me. Why?"
The Headmaster swallowed.
"Because if we tell him—"
He pointed at the artifact.
"—that his grandson was sealed by a divine artifact—"
"we won't just die."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"He'll start a war with the gods."
The Demon Queen stared at him.
Then laughed once.
Short.
Cold.
"He would."
Her presence crushed the courtyard again, but this time with emotion—
nostalgia, regret, and something dangerously close to affection.
"And the Demon King is far too sentimental to think rationally where family is involved."
The Demon Queen's obsidian nails traced the artifact.
Just a touch made the divine metal scream.
Instructors flinched.
"You did not call me because you trusted me."
She looked up.
"You called me because you were too afraid to call him."
No one denied it.
She sighed.
"Move. All of you. Before I grow irritated."
The crowd scrambled back.
She lifted the artifact with one hand — effortlessly — despite the pressure it emitted.
"If this thing erased him…"
Her voice dropped to absolute stillness.
"...the gods will regret being noticed."
The courtyard shook.
End of Chapter 60