Teaching Fourth Disciple

Schlacht, having gained new information through his future sight, was wide-eyed with astonishment. His expression—so often calm and unreadable—was now a mixture of awe and deep contemplation. The information he had just unraveled through his conversation with his future self left his thoughts in chaos.

Who is Flamme?

In the memories of demons regarding humans, never before had such a powerful human emerged!

She wasn't merely powerful—no, her raw mana reserves, her uncanny sensitivity to mana flows, her impossibly swift combat reflexes—those alone would have made her extraordinary. But what unsettled Schlacht most was the magical system she wielded.

It wasn't something that could be explained by talent alone. It was as if Flamme had mastered not only the magic of her era but also the knowledge of a thousand years to come.

Even demons, the originators of magic, found it incomprehensible.

How could such a genius human exist? Perfecting the entire human magical system single-handedly… no, no… this wasn't something talent could explain.

No matter how gifted a person might be, they are still just one individual, limited by time and energy. The overall advancement of a magical system requires countless trial-and-error experiments, discoveries born of luck, and generational iterations—a painstaking process that can only be achieved through the passage of time and collective effort.

But Flamme… Was she truly a gift from the goddess to humans?

—Schlacht occasionally pondered such thoughts.

As a demon capable of seeing a thousand years into the future, Schlacht had glimpsed many secrets of the world. Therefore, he knew that the goddess existed. Not only did she exist, but it was highly likely that she still watched over this world. Though she had not revealed herself, the remnants she left behind thousands of years ago continued to subtly influence the world.

The human Holy Scriptures were one example.

And Schlacht believed that Flamme's appearance was another.

After all, no matter how the demons fought her, they could never win. Once Flamme became powerful, the only outcome was her merciless slaughter of demons—no great demon could last even a single exchange against her.

Before Flamme grew strong, she was also impossible to kill. Schlacht, upon reviewing past events, realized that several traps he had laid to eliminate human geniuses had almost succeeded in extinguishing Flamme during her youth... but at every critical moment, inexplicable figures appeared to save her.

Schlacht wanted to investigate who these people—unrecorded by history—were. Yet by the time he came to value Flamme as a future threat, every demon who had ever attacked her had already been killed by her.

History left no traces.

And those nameless saviors who had rescued Flamme vanished into obscurity.

This was the goddess's blessing upon humanity. Those anonymous figures who defied the timeline itself were proof of her divine favor!

Each time he thought about it, even Schlacht, with his future sight, couldn't help but despair. After all, no matter how powerful his magic for seeing the future was, it remained a mortal power—it could not contradict the will of the goddess.

But now, Schlacht had discovered something: If timeline-defying entities represented the goddess's blessing upon humanity, then demons, too, had once received her favor.

The purple-haired demon standing before him, who had traveled back a thousand years, was a divine gift to the demons!

Schlacht's gaze toward Aura softened for the first time.

Through the window, he looked into the distance, toward the source of the Holy Sword's power.

Beyond nearly killing Flamme, Aura's accomplishments included the creation of Village of the Sword.

Though Schlacht didn't understand Aura's intent behind this act, he reasoned that, as someone from the future, Aura must have had her reasons.

Schlacht realized that Aura, like himself, was silently working to protect the demons.

Schlacht spoke to his future self in his mind:

[Hey, can you see it? The history of the demons without Aura's arrival?]

[I cannot. That is a timeline that no longer exists.]

[Then Aura's appearance must have led the demons toward a better future, right?] the younger Schlacht asked eagerly.

[It must have. Every traveler from the future strives to change their race's destiny for the better. A situation where a demon time traveler aids humans, or vice versa, is almost impossible.] The Schlacht of a thousand years later responded with calm certainty.

[I can't imagine how terrible the future would have been without Aura's journey back.]

[The demons would have gone extinct.]

[But even someone like Aura couldn't prevent Flamme from surviving…]

[Even with the ability to manipulate time, omniscience and omnipotence are unattainable—you and I both know that all too well.]

[…Do you think Aura knows who saved Flamme?]

[I don't know. Ask her directly. The moment she answers, both you and I will know.]

From Aura's perspective, the moment she gave her answer, Schlacht froze probably for one or two seconds, not much longer.

Aura could not tell from his appearance that Schlacht had gone through such a drastic psychological change in that instant.

She thought Schlacht was merely puzzled because he hadn't heard of her name before.

Then, as if recalling something, Schlacht opened his mouth to speak—but as soon as he did, he immediately shut it again, his gaze filled with terror, as though he had realized something horrifying.

[Just now… My future disappeared for an instant, didn't it?]

[…Yes. It's best if you don't ask that question you were about to. If you do, I will disappear. You understand what that means, don't you?]

[You mean I'll die because of this at some point in the future?]

[Correct.]

Schlacht quickly fell silent. After pondering for a moment, he decided to reveal his own identity to Aura.

He reasoned that, if he couldn't inquire about Aura's past, then it should be safe to tell her that he was Schlacht—

By doing so, Schlacht hoped to enlist Aura's help in building a brighter future for the demons together.

There should be no reason for a demon as loyal as Aura to refuse.

"I am..." He began, his voice faltering slightly as it edged into the unfamiliar.

For just a brief second, his words faltered. A dizzying sensation swept over him, a sudden vacuum that felt like time itself was tearing open. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he felt his future vanish, as if all of history was slipping from his grasp, evaporating into the ether.

The shock of it sent his thoughts spiraling. His pupils contracted, his breath caught in his throat, and everything around him seemed to flicker as if the very foundation of reality was shaking underfoot.

Aura noticed the subtle change in him immediately. She raised an eyebrow, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. "What?" she asked, her voice soft, almost curious. She tilted her head, studying him, the clarity of her purple eyes unblinking, unperturbed.

'What just happened?' His heart hammered, each beat like a drum. His instinct screamed at him to stop, to reconsider, to retreat.

"...I mean, my name is Hart!" He blurted out, his voice a little too loud in the silence that followed. His heart thudded wildly, and for a moment, he felt as if the air around him had thickened, becoming nearly suffocating.

"Hart?" Aura echoed, a faint curiosity in her tone. The fluid, almost melodic lilt of her voice contrasted with the turbulence inside him. It wasn't an accusation. Just a question.

His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to regain control of himself.

'Inhale—Exhale'

He forced himself to focus on the rhythm of his breath, grounding himself in the present moment. The illusionary dread of the future's collapse still clung to him like a shadow, but he couldn't—no, he wouldn't—let it overwhelm him now. Not when everything was riding on his next move.

"From now on, you can call me Hart," he added, almost mechanically, trying to convince himself of the new identity he had just adopted.

Aura's gaze lingered on him, unwavering and steady. Her expression remained unchanged, neither suspicion nor hostility in her eyes. There was nothing that indicated she suspected the truth. It was as though she was simply waiting for him to continue, as if his sudden shift in identity were nothing more than a passing whim.

But it wasn't just the change in name that rattled him. It was the deep, unsettling feeling that continued to echo in his chest. 'What was that sensation just now?'

He felt as though he had almost crossed some invisible threshold—a forbidden line that, if crossed, would mean his destruction. Why had that terrifying moment of dissolution occurred? It wasn't just the future he feared losing. It was something else. Something far worse.

'Was it the future telling me I cannot reveal who I truly am to her yet?' The thought settled into his mind with a quiet certainty. It wasn't that Aura herself would kill him, he realized with a mix of confusion and clarity. 

Could it be that a future event—something far more dangerous—would happen if Aura learned his true identity at this moment? Perhaps something he was unable to foresee, a twist in time that defied even his perception?

Schlacht's gaze drifted toward Aura, and for the first time since their encounter, he allowed himself to truly see her. The soft features of her face, the purple hair that cascaded around her like a silken veil, and the serene, almost ethereal expression she wore. There was no malice in them. No judgment. Just a calm, measured understanding that somehow felt... kind.

Despite his tumultuous thoughts, Schlacht felt a strange comfort in her presence. How could he have ever thought this gentle demon would harbor any ill will toward him? Aura was not the type to lash out without cause, especially not out of petty fears or past transgressions.

No, it was the future that frightened him, not Aura herself. The realization settled over him, as cool and precise as the wind cutting through a quiet forest. This was a moment of fragile potential, a juncture where time itself might fracture if the wrong words were spoken.

Schlacht closed his eyes, steadying his breath. He knew better than anyone that time was not a simple thread, but a web of infinite possibilities. The risk of revealing himself now—of exposing his true identity—might be more than the future could allow.

Schlacht took a moment to compose himself, gauging the right tone to approach Aura. This wasn't just about gaining her favor—he needed to make her see him as a potential ally rather than another pawn. She might have power and cunning, but there were opportunities in playing to her curiosity.

"Aura," he began, his voice steady but careful, "you're interested in information about Schlacht, aren't you?"

Aura's sharp gaze flicked toward him. She raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Huh?" The single word carried both surprise and caution, as if she were waiting to see where he was going with this.

Schlacht pressed on, feigning a casual tone to mask his nerves. "While I don't know his current situation, I can regularly bring you updates on Lord Schlacht's movements in the future."

That caught her attention. Aura's eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. Her smirk returned, but there was something more calculating in her expression now. "Interesting. And what makes you think I care about Schlacht's movements?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock indifference.

Schlacht didn't flinch, though her gaze felt like it was peeling back layers of his soul. "Consider it my way of thanking you for protecting me while I was asleep," he replied smoothly, a hint of gratitude slipping into his tone.

Aura tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Does the demon world also have such a thing as gratitude?" she mused, her voice carrying a faint hint of amusement. "Or is this some kind of game you're playing?"

Her words were sharp, probing, but Schlacht held his ground. "Call it gratitude," he said. "Call it strategy. Either way, it's mutually beneficial."

Aura chuckled softly. Gratitude? From a demon? Gathering intelligence on Schlacht, and with that disrespectful tone, no less… It was almost laughable. This little demon named Hart was openly willing to betray Schlacht? How unexpected.

For a moment, Aura reconsidered what she knew. She had assumed most demons were unwaveringly loyal to Schlacht, especially given his position as a leader among their kind. But… oh.

Her smirk deepened as she corrected her earlier thought. 'Ah, of course,' she though to herself. 'The era when all demons acknowledged Schlacht as second-in-command hasn't arrived yet.' This was a younger Schlacht, a time when the demon ranks were still fractured into rival factions. That explained this one's blatant disrespect.

'So, he must belong to a rival faction,' she reasoned. And that meant... he could be useful.

The realization lit a spark in her eyes. She smiled, leaning forward slightly, the motion deliberate.

"However," she began, her tone shifting to one of mock sincerity,

"I don't have any treasures to pay you for gathering intelligence." She waved her hand generously, as though making an extravagant offer. "How about this? I'll grant you the special privilege of serving as my slave, and I won't even make you sign a contract!"

Schlacht froze, caught off guard by the sheer audacity of her words. "I think… no payment is fine," he managed, his voice tight as he forced a smile. In that moment, he truly understood what humans meant by a "forced smile." His lips curved upward, but his teeth felt clenched, and his entire expression felt unnatural.

While demons were typically arrogant, vain, and egotistical, a demon like Aura—who could frame servitude to her as a reward—was a rare sight, even for Schlacht.

"Then I'll give you a few more days of food?"

"No need to trouble yourself. This is mutually beneficial for both of us."

Schlacht wasn't lying about that.

Aura chuckled again, the sound softer this time but no less condescending. "Oh, is it now?" she asked, her gaze sweeping over him with mild disdain.

From her perspective, this demon was… unimpressive, to say the least. Short, weak, and entirely unreliable. Expecting him to rise through the ranks of the demon world and return with critical intel about Schlacht? The odds seemed laughable.

And yet… Aura allowed herself a moment of optimism. 'Oh well, she thought. Even if he's useless, I suppose I can hope for a surprise.'

"This is for you, Hart," Aura said suddenly, rising from her seat with a fluid motion. She turned to a shelf behind her, her fingers brushing over a stack of notebooks before selecting one. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it toward Schlacht, who barely managed to catch it without fumbling.

Schlacht glanced down at the worn, handwritten notebook in his hands. The edges of the pages were slightly frayed, and the cover was simple, but there was an undeniable weight to it. He opened it cautiously, his eyes scanning the first few lines.

"Ordinary offensive magic: Zoltraak?" he read aloud, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What's this?"

"Consider it an advance payment for your work," Aura said simply, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeves. Her tone was casual, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Schlacht flipped through the pages, his curiosity growing. The text was written in human script, and while he could read it easily enough, the concepts described were unlike anything he had encountered before.

If only she could kill Schlacht right now.

Aura's purple eyes fixed absently on the scrawny demon in front of her. His face grew more and more animated as he flipped through the pages of the notebook she'd just given him. His wide eyes gleamed with a mix of disbelief and elation, his lips occasionally moving as if murmuring the spell incantations to himself.

Hart was a pitiful sight. Weak and wiry, his aura barely registered in her senses. The fact that he belonged to a faction opposing Schlacht made him a minor irritant at best. Expecting him to challenge Schlacht in any meaningful way was laughable.

Aura leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a faint, sardonic smile.

'I might as well hope Schlacht trips over his own feet and impales himself on a rock.'

Still, she mused, Zoltraak was a different matter.

Ordinary offensive magic: Zoltraak wasn't anything extravagant—at least, not by her standards—but it was entirely unknown in this era. It was a simple yet potent technique, capable of catching even the most powerful demons off guard.

Aura's gaze flickered to Hart once more. If she could arm this pathetic little demon with a magic that even the likes of Schlacht wouldn't anticipate, perhaps he could be of some use. If nothing else, he might sow a bit of chaos in Schlacht's future.

And if Hart failed? Well, Aura wouldn't lose much. This was a mere gamble, a pebble tossed into the river of time to see how far the ripples would reach.

"Thank you, Aura," Hart said, his voice trembling slightly as he clutched the notebook like a sacred relic. "With this magic, I'll have a more stable future."

Schlacht was overjoyed.

The moment he received the notebook containing basic offensive magic, the voices of the future he could hear became clearer and multiplied significantly.

This meant that, among the chaotic and dangerous timelines, Schlacht's chances of survival had just increased.

All thanks to Aura, Schlacht now had an even better shot at navigating the treacherous future!

"Stop babbling about the future, you're making me remember some unpleasant things." Aura interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. She stood, striding toward the door with an air of finality. She flung it open and gestured for him to leave.

"Just remember, if you manage to claw your way to the upper ranks of demonkind, you owe me a favor."

Hart straightened, his expression suddenly solemn. "I, Hart, swear as a demon never to forget this kindness."

Aura blinked, caught off guard for the briefest of moments. Then she burst into laughter, the sound sharp and almost cruel. "Pfft—are you serious?" she managed between chuckles, leaning against the doorframe for support. "Swearing as a demon? Do you even hear yourself?"

Her laughter subsided into a soft chuckle as she shook her head, brushing a strand of purple hair away from her face. "Since when do demons keep their promises?" she asked, her tone mocking. "Would they even still be demons if they did?"

Hart didn't flinch at her words. If anything, his resolve seemed to harden. "I mean it," he said firmly. "I owe you my survival, Aura. That's not something I take lightly."

Aura's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of mild amusement. How naive, she thought. Among demons, there were perhaps two or three who held any sense of racial honor. Schlacht. The Demon King. And, she admitted reluctantly, herself.

Did this diminutive demon truly think she'd believe in his oath?

Hilarious.

Still, Aura didn't voice her skepticism. Instead, she waved him off with a casual flick of her fingers. "Whatever you say, Hart. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

Hart hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, Aura," he said again, his tone earnest. With that, he turned and left, clutching the notebook tightly as if it were his lifeline.

Aura watched him go, her expression unreadable. Teaching him Zoltraak hadn't been about expecting a return. This wasn't some grand strategy to ensure her future dominance. It was a trivial investment, a whim. If it caused Schlacht some trouble down the line, great. If not, well, no harm done.

But hoping for this investment to pay off in any significant way? Aura snorted softly to herself, shutting the door behind her.

Sorry, Aura knew herself too well. She wasn't the kind of demon blessed with that kind of luck.