Chapter 16 – He Broke It?
At that moment, one of the third-year students muttered. He was one of the few who hadn’t used the barrier spell against Ruin.
“Tch. What a petty way to get revenge.”
“…What? Revenge?”
“What else would this be? Dragging us all up to the rooftop on a freezing day? I didn’t even attack the guy. So what, it’s collective punishment now?”
“I mean… technically, yeah. We 'did' run a bunch of professors out of here…”
“So what? That had nothing to do with 'him'. He should just go scold the idiots who attacked him. What the hell’s he even mad at me for—”
Crack!
“Gah!”
The student who was mumbling suddenly found his head yanked upward like a radish being pulled from the ground. Ruin had grabbed him by the scalp and lifted him clean off his feet.
He dangled a full hand-span in the air, face turning ghostly pale. Even on a second look, it was definitely just Ruin’s single hand holding him up.
'What the hell kind of grip strength is this?! Isn’t he a mage?!'
It felt like his skull was about to burst like a slime.
Then a cold voice rang in his ear.
“Name.”
“E-excuse me?”
“Your name. Speak it.”
“W-William Goldski, sir!”
“Right. Dumbski.”
“It’s Goldski!”
“Sure, Crapski. Now tell me—what’s 'Demon Hunting' really about? From your own dumb mouth.”
It was clear that if he didn’t answer, he might actually die. William Crapski stammered through his trembling lips.
“I-it’s the flagship Haven course that teaches how to combat demons—including offense, tactics, defense, everything!”
“Right. And with 'that' pathetic little barrier spell, you thought you could catch the Firefly?”
“T-that’s—!”
Ruin’s eyes grew colder.
“What if you came across a demon it didn’t work on?”
“Wh-what?”
“And what if this happened instead?”
“What do you—AAAH!”
Crapski couldn’t even finish before screaming. His heart nearly stopped. Ruin had carried him—still by the head—straight to the edge of the rooftop.
And now, he was dangling outside the building.
One loosened grip, and it’d be a direct fall from the rooftop to the ground below.
The moment he realized his feet weren’t touching anything, Crapski went paper white. The other students jumped to their feet in shock.
“P-professor! What are you—!”
Ruin turned his head.
“You. Red-haired first-year. If you want to save this idiot, stab the guy next to you.”
“…What?!”
“If you can’t do that, then jump off yourself.”
'What the hell?!'
“P-Professor!”
“Or, I could spare both of them and kill your family instead.”
“!”
“Actually, I could let your family live and just massacre everyone at Haven instead.”
The students trembled.
Because they understood exactly what he was doing.
In real combat, you could be forced into horrifying moral dilemmas—situations where you’d have to abandon your values and humanity. If you lost the initiative, it was over.
And sure enough, Ruin said:
“You get it now? Demons are deceptive and cruel. The Firefly is even worse. So what the hell are 'you' brats going to do in a situation like this?”
“Urgh…”
“Demon Hunting isn’t just about fighting. It’s about 'protecting yourself'. It’s a defensive class, too. And 'you' thought you could just teach the underclassmen in our place?”
The third-years were struck speechless.
Ruin turned to the sniveling Crapski.
“Understand now? You weren’t teaching the first-years—you were stripping away their right to survive.”
“Hngh…!”
“If the Firefly had shown up today, you all would’ve been slaughtered. You upperclassmen would’ve been responsible for their deaths. So atone—with 'your' lives.”
“I—we—we’re sorry, Professor!”
“If sorry fixed everything, there wouldn’t be any tragedies in the world.”
As Ruin’s grip started to loosen, Crapski’s cries rose in panic.
“I—we were just stupid! We didn’t think it through! Please! Just give us one more chance!”
“…Hah.”
Ruin sighed, as if tired of the whole thing.
Then he tossed Crapski like a bag of flour.
Bam!
“William!”
He slammed into the rooftop wall and passed out from sheer terror.
Ruin dusted off his gloved hand.
'I was just here to raid a vault. What the hell am I doing?'
“If you try something like this again, it won’t end with just a fall.”
“……”
“Answer me.”
“Y-yes, sir!!”
Satisfied by their snappy reply, Ruin looked up at the sky and grimaced.
'Shit. That got out of hand.'
He hadn’t planned on this. Originally, he was just going to bluff about tossing them off and then give a heartwarming headmaster-style lecture.
But Crapski had pressed just the right button, and his hand had slipped.
'Am I about to get a complaint from his parents?'
His ginseng-faced god would laugh his head off at this one.
'Dammit. I can’t cause problems if I want that professor’s office…'
Now he was probably the 'center' of a problem. Every kid here was sitting down, biting their lips in stunned silence.
'Should I pretend to console them now?'
No. That would tarnish the dignity of the eldest son of House Wayne.
Ruin sighed.
'Shit. Guess I’ll have to think of another way.'
But the students were shaken for entirely different reasons.
They had believed they were acting out of conviction—but now realized that conviction had endangered their juniors.
And this professor… he was something else.
He broke the spell. Their defeat was already sealed.
But what struck them was 'how' he chose to teach them that lesson.
'He could’ve just expelled us or issued demerits… That would’ve been easier.'
Brutal as it was, he’d used that moment to drive home the true meaning of Demon Hunting.
'We misunderstood him.'
This wasn’t some petty grudge, as Crapski had claimed.
He was… surprisingly thoughtful.
Maybe even a decent professor…
“…You’ll all reimburse me for the ruined outfit. At 100 times the original price.”
“……”
Never mind, it 'was' revenge!
- - -
“What did you say?”
“You’re saying Professor Wayne 'broke' that barrier spell?!”
Shock rippled through the conference room at Haven.
All the department chairs, lead professors, and TAs were gathered. They were reviewing classes on the verge of being cut.
Among them were the courses originally assigned to Ruins Wayne:
<Defense Studies: Obscure Defensive Techniques>
<Healing Arts: Forgotten Methods>
<Intro to Demon Hunting: Knowledge You’ll Never Need>
All three had one or two students, at best. This time, there were zero. They were set to be discontinued.
In other words, Ruins Wayne was about to be let go without ever teaching a single class.
But now?
“You’re seriously saying he dispelled that magic?”
“Yes. He’s teaching on the rooftop as we speak.”
The TA’s report was as if she’d seen a ghost. Professor Calon’s face darkened.
The headmaster, seeing that face, chuckled slyly.
“Oh dear. Someone tried to run him out—and failed.”
But even she was surprised.
After all, that spell had been such a problem they’d consulted the Chairman, the Hero himself.
“You look exactly the same, even after 50 years.”
“The only perk of being a Transcendent.”
“You’ve heard what’s been happening at the school lately, haven’t you?”
The Chairman’s answer had been unexpected.
“Sorry. Even I can’t fix that.”
“You mean because of the royal involvement?”
“No. I 'could' break the spell. But the 'marker'—that’s the real issue.”
“…You’re telling me the strongest man alive, who can kill the Demon King, can’t handle a marker?”
“Haha. Even I have limits. Do you know who the heirs enrolled here are? Unless we had the legendary Firefly, maybe…”
Yes. Even the Hero himself had written it off.
From the headmaster’s perspective, too, it was clear.
Breaking the spell was easy. But destroying the core would trigger the marker. Once that appeared, it was treason.
That’s why the royal scion who created it was hailed as a genius.
The entire faculty knew it—and avoided it accordingly.
'Anyone marked would be executed for insulting the royal family.'
Not even heroes could escape that fate. Because the spell had 'one purpose'—to frame professors and destroy them.
'One and a half years ago, a royal heir’s closest friend died due to a professor’s negligence.'
Since then, the royal scion bore a deep grudge. No one dared provoke them.
'And Wayne broke it?'
Calon, who knew better than anyone what that meant, gave a hollow laugh.
He was the closest to the Head Professor’s seat, and he wanted it badly.
But even 'he' had stayed far away from that ticking time bomb.
“To think Wayne was dumb enough to walk right into that mess. He’s brought the royal heir’s wrath on himself.”
Several professors glanced at Calon in disgust.
He’d been the one who arranged for the new professor to take Demon Hunting in the first place—knowing full well what it meant.
Charlie, the professor with the monocle, chimed in with a sneer.
“Not the brightest guy to begin with. I mean, look at him—still can’t fix his face, walking around in bandages like that.”
At this point, Ruins Wayne’s fate seemed sealed.
Having broken the spell, the marker had surely activated. Once the royal heir caught wind of it, they’d send the 'Hounds' to drag him out.
“…Hmm.”
The headmaster furrowed her delicate brow. He seemed bold—but not 'stupid.'
Had she overestimated him?
Then Professor Calon sneered again.
“So? Where’s the marker? We should deliver him before the heir loses patience.”
“Ah, no. There was no marker. Or rather… the marker spell didn’t trigger at all.”
…What?
The professors erupted.
Demon Hunting was a high-profile position.
“Are you sure you didn’t miss it?!”
“No, sir! We triple-checked. It’s the most crucial part.”
'…What?!'
“There’s no way—!”
He neutralized the spell 'without' leaving a marker?
Did that mean he’d solved the “true” puzzle that not even the faculty could crack?
Calon’s faction murmured anxiously.
Then the headmaster smiled and said quietly:
“Well then. The seat of Head Professor… has just found its new owner.”
