The Narrow-Eyed Villain of the Demon Academy

The prison was steeped in an eerie silence, the air thick with a lingering, sinister energy that clung to the countless bloodstains marring every inch of the cold stone floor.

It was a scene that sent chills down my spine.

The wooden shackles that bound my wrists chafed against my skin as I shifted uncomfortably. Turning around, I called out,

"Lever, are you out there?"

My question was met with silence.

Where has she disappeared to this time?

I wondered, but the thought was quickly chased away by the overpowering stench that assaulted my nostrils.

The air reeked of blood, a grim reminder of the prison’s gruesome history.

*Whum.*

The necklace, the one I suspected was linked to the Demon God but couldn't quite figure out how, started to glow.

It pulsed with a low hum, almost as if urging me to use it.

I frowned, remembering the last time it had reacted this way – when I had witnessed Samuel's past.

It's reacting again.

Did that mean I could use it to see Fron's past as well?

But would seeing a few fleeting moments from her past really help me understand her choice?

I doubted I could ever truly comprehend why Fron would choose death over life.

No, more than doubt, it was fear that gripped my heart.

Fear that I might actually empathize with Fron's reasons for wanting to die.

Fear that if I understood her pain, I might actually let her die.

The thought of witnessing another death, of reliving the tragedies I had inflicted upon the characters of my own creation, filled me with unbearable anguish.

But I couldn't shy away from it.

This is the price I have to pay.

Taking a deep breath, I gently touched the necklace.

This was the only way I could atone for my sins, the only recompense I could offer to the children of my story.

*Whum.*

The necklace pulsed with renewed intensity.

Closing my eyes, I focused on the newfound abilities it granted me.

There were two:

First, I could now see further into the past.

Not just a few decades, but potentially centuries.

However, I wasn’t going to use that ability now.

Not yet.

Second, and more importantly, the necklace could now show me the past of a specific location, as long as it still existed, even without a living subject present.

This was the true game-changer.

The past of a space.

I now held the power to witness the past of anyone, or even any place.

And the first place I was going to use it was this very prison.

I was going to see what Fron experienced within these walls, to witness firsthand the events that led her to this point.

*Whum.*

The necklace thrummed against my chest, its vibrations growing stronger by the second.

I’m ready.

“Activate,” I whispered.

The moment the words left my lips, the necklace erupted in a blinding flash of light.

A strange grinding sound, like gears turning in reverse, filled the air.

*Click.*

*Click.*

* * *

Time folded in on itself, the present dissolving into the echoes of the past.

While the physical space remained unchanged, the people within it flickered and shifted like images in a constantly changing panorama.

As my senses returned, I braced myself for the disorientation of inhabiting another’s body.

But something was different this time.

I blinked, taking in my surroundings.

This body…

Wait a minute.

This isn’t someone else’s body, is it?

"Huh…"

Bewildered, I drew Fang of Darkness, its polished surface reflecting back an image that was both familiar and utterly foreign.

It was me, Adel, but not as I knew myself.

My hair was a vibrant blue, pulled back from my face.

My eyes, though still bearing the same distinctive shape, were younger, more innocent.

Even my lips seemed smaller, less defined.

This was me at six years old, perhaps even younger.

“What is this…”

Am I dreaming?

When I had glimpsed into Samuel's and Fron's pasts, I had inhabited their bodies, felt their emotions as my own.

But this was different.

I was still myself, just… younger.

And I could move freely, and think independently.

Is this what happens when I use the necklace's power through a space?

Does it create a new vessel for me to inhabit?

I touched my neck, noticing the absence of the familiar mark that allowed me to switch places with others.

Does that mean I can't use Position Exchange?

I channeled my mana into Fang of Darkness, and a wave of relief washed over me as the blade darkened with the telltale sign of my powers.

It seemed I could still access my abilities, even in this borrowed form.

There was one crucial difference though: the mana I wielded wasn't my own. It was Fron's.

Why can I use Fron’s mana?

The more I thought about it, the more confusing it became.

Let’s recap:

- I’m witnessing the past of this prison, Fron’s past, through the power of the necklace.

- Because I’m experiencing the past through a space, not a person, I’ve been given a new, younger body to inhabit.

- I can use my abilities, but the mana I wield belongs to Fron.

However…

Position Exchange isn’t working.

Mana Manipulation, Killing Intent, Stealth—all of my other abilities were readily available.

Only Location Switch remained stubbornly out of reach.

I clicked my tongue in frustration, but quickly pushed the disappointment aside.

It could be worse.

I still had access to most of my abilities, and a limited mana pool was better than none at all.

Right now, I need to focus on figuring out what’s going on here.

I surveyed my surroundings.

There’s Fron… or rather, younger versions of her. And other girls too.

But they all look so young.

Should I even call this a prison?

Compared to the blood-soaked dungeon I had seen earlier, this place was practically spotless.

Grim, yes, but relatively clean and well-maintained.

And filled with children.

Children who all bore a striking resemblance to Fron.

They were chatting amongst themselves, their youthful voices echoing through the chamber.

“Wasn’t dinner delicious today?”

“Yeah, it was good.”

“Hehe, I’m going to have two bowls tomorrow.”

Their conversations were mundane, filled with the simple joys and concerns of childhood.

Watching them, I felt the tension drain from my shoulders.

What was I worried about?

This wasn’t some torture chamber.

It was… well, it was still a prison, but one where children were being kept alive, at least.

Then again…

I chuckled wryly, realizing the absurdity of that thought.

If this were truly a safe haven, Lever wouldn’t have brought me here.

Speaking of Lever, who was she exactly?

From what I’d gathered, she was one of these children.

I scanned the faces around me, searching for any sign of her.

But picking out one face among hundreds of nearly identical children was no easy task.

How am I supposed to find her in this crowd?

Frowning, I decided to start by looking for Fron.

Surely, she would know who Lever was.

Unable to spot either of them, I approached a nearby girl, hoping she might be able to point me in the right direction.

“Excuse me.”

“Eep!”

The girl, no more than six years old, flinched back as if I had struck her.

Her eyes welled up with tears.

What did I do?

“Um… are you alright?”

“I-I’m sorry! Please don’t hit me! I’ll be good, I promise! Please…!”

She cowered before me, her words a desperate plea for mercy.

It wasn't just an apology; it was the complete surrender of someone who had known nothing but fear and pain.

I froze, speechless.

What could have possibly happened to make this child so terrified?

Then, I remembered Fron’s own deep-seated fear of her mother, the woman who would eventually drive her to her death.

Could it be that she…?

“She’s not even worth killing.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Did she hear that?

“Please spare me! I’ll do anything! I’ll bark like a dog if you want…!”

“No, no, I wasn’t talking to you.”

I said, my voice laced with panic.

What was wrong with me?

Sure, this body was just a vessel, but it was still that of a six-year-old child.

Why was she so terrified of me?

Unease settled in the pit of my stomach.

Something wasn’t right.

I tried to reassure her, to calm her down.

But it was too late.

“He’s a prisoner from the other cell block!”

A hush fell over the room.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned towards me, their gazes filled with a chilling intensity.

I felt a cold sweat break out on my skin.

I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.

“Kill him!”

“No, we can’t kill him!”

“Then let’s beat him until he’s almost dead!”

“Yeah, let’s do that!”

“Let’s make him wish he were dead!”

“But then he’d be dead.”

“Just kill him then!”

A wave of children surged towards me, their faces contorted with rage.

“Kill him!”

“Get rid of him!”

I threw up my hands in a futile attempt to protect myself.

One girl, her eyes blazing with fury, locked eyes with me.

Even at six years old, her hatred was palpable.

I don’t like her…

And then,

My mind went dark.

Why are these little brats so strong...?

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