NOVEL NEXT Ch. 6
Chapter 6
A few mornings later, Ted arrived with news from the imperial capital.
Henrik listened to the shockwave.
“Looks like the palace held a discussion about you.”
“The palace...?”
Same as always, they were perched on stools at the tavern counter.
“Why would the palace care about me?”
“The demon you put down in the incident-Velperia.”
“Right. When they appraised her core, the announcement came back: top-tier demon nobility.”
Ted explained. The local chapel was only a minor shrine, unable to read the stone, so the core had traveled up the chain until it reached the great cathedral in the capital. There, with royalty present, the verdict was delivered-sovereign-class-and the room had erupted.
“The city’s in panic, screaming that the world’s ending,” Ted said. “Then the question shifted to who killed her. Guess whose name surfaced?”
“I can picture the rest.”
Obvious without looking.
From ‘Who slew the demon?’ the tale naturally turned to Henrik. He was already newspaper fodder; catching imperial eyes was only a matter of time.
“Exactly. Now the court’s debating whether to award a medal.”
The empire handed medals for feats of arms or scholarship-an honor, supposedly.
Henrik knew the empire’s underbelly, though.
They wouldn’t leave a Hunter who’d killed a sovereign demon running free.
But a medal was a collar.
“Nothing’s official, but word is His Majesty will pin it on us personally.”
“The Emperor-hold on, us?”
“Yeah, us.”
Us.
Ted had said we, not you.
“They’re recognizing my part in the affair too!”
He puffed his chest, proud.
“Well... congratulations, then.”
Henrik chuckled and offered the word sincerely. Ted hadn’t fought much, but without his legwork the hunt would have dragged on for weeks.
“A medal opens doors, Henrik.”
Henrik sighed at the thought.
Medals were double-edged: prestige on one side, leash on the other.
“Sounds like a hassle.”
“....”
“But it’s fine-once we settle our own business.”
“You mean the academy professorship?”
“Bull’s-eye.”
Ted had waited for the opening.
“It’s a deal that lets you keep the medal’s clout while staying free of the court’s grip.”
Offering the medal told Henrik two things: the empire wanted to publicize a demon king’s death, and they still saw him as little more than a poster boy.
Refuse, and they’d nag; accept, and they’d watch.
Now wasn’t the time to prick royal pride.
“The Craft duchy will sponsor you. Take the chair at the academy and the palace can’t meddle.”
Teaching students, holding a professorship-Henrik dipped his head.
“I’ll take it.”
He had three reasons.
First, the Craft duchy. Official backing from House Craft would make even nobles think twice.
Second, Sefira Academy itself. Beneath its campus lay hidden artifacts-and the ore.
Henrik pictured a hammer shattered to nothing but a handle.
The thing he needed most: Sephirum.
A white stone veined with soft gold, brighter than silver, harder than diamond, the best anti-demon material in existence.
No-soon to be.
‘Only I know that yet.’
A raw slab of it slept under the academy, big enough to forge weapons.
‘And right now I can claim it outright.’
Third, and perhaps the greatest: he had learned how vital early strikes were.
In the last life, Velperia’s advent had cost tens of thousands.
This time he’d stopped her alone.
While the demons still crouched and gathered strength, the surest path was to find and erase them first.
‘Except for the Sovereign of Sloth, I don’t know their exact locations.’
To hunt the rest he needed reach, and reach meant allies.
Enter demonology.
He would make the study of demons common knowledge.
“So I just teach demonology at the academy?”
“Of course! I’m the dean, remember. Henrik, you were born to pioneer this field.”
“Forget pioneer-if I’m a professor, I can walk anywhere without a pass, right?”
“The whole campus is your playground. Want a whole building? I’ll give you one.”
“Not bad.”
Sefira Academy had been carved out of an ancient citadel; hidden traps, sealed chambers, and mazes you could never escape were part of the architecture.
Most of those places were off-limits-unless you were faculty.
Ted bounced on his heels, delighted.
“Perfect! Let’s sign the contract before you change your mind tomorrow. Seal and everything.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
* * *
Lemarnus, the port city at the continent’s heart.
Trade never slept here; forest and sea met in perfect balance, and the academy’s towers rose above the masts.
Henrik stared at the skyline and wished, futilely, that nothing would ever change.
Ten years from now this city would be on the front line of the demon war.
Most of the heroes who held the walls would be Sefira graduates, making the academy the demons’ first target.
The old fortress walls would help, but they would also remember every secret passage Henrik was about to unlock.
Today was freshman orientation.
Henrik had said yes to Ted, and now he was the founding professor of demonology.
“Welcome, freshmen. I’m Ted Craft, dean of Sefira Academy.”
Ted conjured a microphone with a snap and stepped onto the dais.
Henrik hovered behind the curtain, sneaking a look at the crowd.
Five hundred pairs of eager eyes sparkled up at Ted; most of the kids looked barely eighteen.
Standing in front of strangers felt worse than facing Velperia.
At least with demons you knew where you stood.
Teaching was alien territory, and his stomach refused to settle.
“Sefira Academy stands for the freedom to learn,” Ted declared.
“Knowledge belongs to whoever reaches for it-that’s my creed.”
He paused, letting the words sink in.
“You are the luckiest first-years on the continent.”
The hall went still.
“Here you’ll master combat, magic, and every art that keeps civilization alive.
Out of thousands who applied, only you remain-raw gems, every one.”
Gem.
The students tasted the word and smiled.
“You’ll meet professors, make friends beyond rank or birth, and those bonds will become the ladder you climb.”
Ted’s gaze flicked to the curtain; Henrik answered with a sheepish grin.
“Speaking of new professors-come up, everyone. Let’s introduce the people who’ll drag you toward greatness.”
At Ted’s signal Henrik stepped onto the stage.
“First, Professor of Knighthood-Oliver Mandolin.”
A chestnut-haired man in steel plate-mail bowed; his open face promised fair exams and honest corrections.
“Next, Professor of Magic-Bena Aspera.”
Blue-black hair, younger than her title suggested, brilliant enough to earn tenure before thirty.
“Liberal studies-astronomy, alchemy-”
One by one the faculty paraded forward; applause greeted each until the line dwindled to Henrik.
Ted’s grin turned theatrical.
“As you know, we’ve opened a new department this year-demonology.
Sooner or later every one of you will face a demon.”
A ripple of swallowed breath swept the rows.
Some faces paled; others narrowed in determination.
“Combat arts are vital, battle-magic essential-but when the moment comes, demonology will save your life.
Know your enemy, win a hundred battles.
Understand their nature, exploit their weakness, and no horror will block your path.”
Murmurs rose like surf.
“Allow me to introduce the man who’ll teach you how-Professor of Demonology, Henrik Dusk.”