The four headmasters stood quietly as they observed the aftermath of the demon invasion.

  Despite the battle ending in victory, the city was smoldered, remnants of destruction scattered across the once-pristine academy grounds.

  Knights and mages were already dealing with the aftermath, tending to the wounded, reinforcing defenses, and gathering intelligence on the now-defeated demons who invaded.

  Sylvia von Auschworth leaned lazily against the ornate stone railing, her scarlet hair swaying in the night breeze.

  "I guess it was too easy with Marcus around," she sighed.

  "That's to be expected," one of the hooded figures nodded.

  "Indeed. We planned countermeasures, established security, prepared the best mages to respond in time…"

  "And yet, none of it mattered," the third hooded figure finished. "Because he exists."

  Sylvia smirked.

  Marcus Rey Dimitri.

  A year ago, he was already an anomaly—a genius beyond geniuses. But now? Now he was far more than that.

  Seriously, when he suffered a loss and holed himself in his room, she had already considered that he would suffer a depression.

  After all, to a superior man who has never tasted a failure, being defeated by someone he consider as inferior...it would surely affect them.

  Especially someone as arrogant and prideful as Marcus.

  "He has become far more powerful than we anticipated," the first hooded figure admitted. "Give him a year, maybe two, and he’ll already surpass us."

  "Except Sylvia, of course," the second figure chuckled.

  Sylvia’s smirk deepened.

  "Obviously," she said, crossing her arms. "Unlike the rest of you, I refuse to be outdone by a brat."

  Even amongst the Four Headmasters of the Great Academies, Sylvia von Auschworth was legendary.

  Not only in Olympia Kingdom, but across the entire Algaea Continent.

  Her name carried weight on every battlefield, in every research institution, in every war council.

  Her magical theories had advanced humanity’s understanding of magic by decades, redefining combat spells, enchantments, and magical applications.

  And in direct combat?

  There were few alive who could claim to stand on equal footing with her. She was hailed as the strongest mage in the Olympia Kingdom, and one of the Top Ten strongest mages across thr continent.

  Not even Marcus, as he is now, can defeat her—not yet, at least.

  But even as she reveled in her superiority, she knew...

  That boy, Marcus. He was dangerous.

  A monster born of this world’s will.

  And soon, not even she could predict what he would become.

  Suddenly, one of the three hooded figures finally moved.

  His wrinkled hand reached up, pulling back the dark hood, revealing the weathered face of an old man. His long silver hair cascaded down his back, his flowing beard reaching down to his chest. His eyes, aged yet sharp as an eagle’s, gleamed under the moonlight.

  Welsh Gran Dulf.

  The Grandmaster of Zenith Arcane Institute.

  A man who had lived through several great wars, and who had stood at the peak of magecraft and spell theory for over a century.

  He was once hailed as Magus of Stars, due to his mastery over Stellar Magic.

  "Haah…" the old man, Welsh, sighed deeply. "So our theories were correct after all."

  The other two hooded figures nodded.

  "The demons have infiltrated our academies."

  "It was always a possibility," Welsh muttered, stroking his long beard. "For decades, the demon race has remained quiet. Too quiet. But now…"

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "They were waiting," Sylvia said, "until they had enough insiders to strike from within."

  "And this invasion was just the beginning," one of the hooded figures added.

  Welsh’s eyes darkened.

  "We have no choice, then. We must hunt down every last demon hiding among our students. Let us start with my academy. With Gerald's exposure and death, remaining demon spies would certainly get reckless and would expose themselves far easier."

  A deep silence fell over them.

  Then, Sylvia smirked.

  "In that case, I suppose it’s time for the Annual Student Exchange Learning Program."

  Every year, the four great academies of the Algaea Continent conducted a Student Exchange Program, where their best students were sent to train and study in each other’s institutions.

  On the surface—

  It was meant to foster unity between rival kingdoms, share magical knowledge, and build diplomatic relationships between future leaders.

  But now?

  It would serve another purpose.

  A trap.

  A grand stage where hidden demons would be lured out.

  "Let's call this, Operation Night Parade." Sylvia puffed her chest in pride.

  ****

  The scent of ash and blood still lingered in the air.

  Though the battle had ended in victory, the academy grounds bore deep scars from the invasion.

  Collapsed buildings. Charred earth. The lingering energy of countless spells still crackling in the air.

  Even with the threat gone, the city was far from peaceful.

  Knights and mages moved swiftly, combing through the ruins.

  Some worked to rescue the wounded, others sought out stragglers from the demon forces—though none were expected to have survived.

  At the center of it all, Jeannette le Divinia, the Saintess of the Holy Church, stood amidst the fallen, her hands glowing with a golden radiance.

  Her voice, gentle yet firm, carried a warmth that soothed even the gravely wounded.

  "Rest now," she whispered, pressing a hand to a knight’s mangled chest. "You have done enough."

  The man's body convulsed slightly before a wave of divine light washed over him.

  His wounds sealed, his breathing steadied, and his expression softened from one of agony to peace.

  She exhaled softly, wiping a thin layer of sweat from her brow.

  Healing magic wasn’t simply about mending flesh—it required a deep connection to the soul and immense stamina.

  And yet, she never stopped.

  There were too many who needed her.

  Behind her, a line of injured knights, students, and professors awaited treatment.

  Some lay on makeshift stretchers, barely clinging to life. Others, who had sustained minor injuries, were tending to one another, offering potions and bandages where they could.

  Despite their exhaustion, they moved with purpose—as survivors of battle always did.

  They had won.

  That alone was enough motivation to keep moving.

  A short distance away, three figures stood amidst the battlefield, their eyes scanning the ruins.

  Marcus Rey Dimitri.

  Athena Syr Olynpia.

  Irene del Exterion.

  The strongest of the academy’s combatants—all gathered in one place.

  Irene’s gaze flickered between the two younger mages, assessing them.

  She had seen Marcus’s power firsthand.

  His lightning was no longer just powerful—it had reached a level that warped the very laws of nature.

  And Athena—her space magic had grown so refined that she had almost closed a gate between realms single-handedly.

  For students—no, for any mage—this was unprecedented.

  "You two," Irene spoke, folding her arms. "Explain everything. From the beginning."

  Athena, still catching her breath, nodded.

  She detested weakness, so showing exhaustion in front of Irene was almost humiliating—but this battle had pushed her to her absolute limit.

  "Gerald wasn't much," she stated. "He was weak and pathetic, I was able to easily beat him without using some of my stronger spells."

  "That much was obvious," Irene replied flatly.

  Athena frowned but continued. "But that creature he summoned is ...something else. It was way too powerful. I still find it hard to believe that a single eye possessed that much power. I can only imagine how powerful it would be if its true body managed to descend."

  Irene knew that. If she and the saintess did not deal with those creatures it summoned, then Marcus would surely not be able to focus dealing with it.

  If that happened, the eye would've been able to manifest more of its body parts and be able to use more of its power.

  Marcus, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.

  "Are we done here?" Marcus put a hand on Athena's head, "She needs a rest. Can't we postpone this question until she's on her best condition?"

  Irene’s gaze sharpened at his disrespectful tone, but soon let out a tired sigh as she massaged her forehead.

  "Very well, you may now go. But I expect your presence as soon as you are fully healed. I am sure the headmaster would love to have a word with you as well."

  Marcus nodded, "I understand."

  He turned towards Athena and motioned at her to follow him.

  Athena wanted to say that she's fine, and that she doesn't need rest and can continue with the questioning, but decided that arguing with an unreasonable guy like Marcus isn't worth it.

  So she simply followed him.

  Irene observed their interaction, and noted that they are far more close than rumors told otherwise.

  She shook her head, it's none of her business after all. For now, dealing with the aftermath is far more important.

  Back to the two.

  As Athena walked slightly behind Marcus, her body suddenly swayed from exhaustion.

  She grumbled under her breath.

  She hated showing weakness, but her legs felt like lead, and her magic reserves were nearly empty. The battle had really pushed her far beyond her limits.

  Marcus glanced at her from the corner of his eye, then sighed.

  Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms.

  Athena blinked, looking confused, and startled, yet her face still look as stern and serious as ever.

  "I can walk just fine." she said flatly.

  "Shut up and sleep," Marcus said bluntly, adjusting his hold so she wouldn’t struggle. "You're exhausted."

  Athena opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it. Yeah, it's not worth it to waste her breath arguing with this guy.

  She let out a frustrated sigh but didn’t resist.

  "…Just this once," she muttered, resting her forehead against his chest.

  Marcus smirked slightly. "Yeah, yeah."

  The walk back to his dorm was quiet. The occasional patrol of knights and mages passed by, nodding in acknowledgment but not stopping them.

  The dormitory buildings had suffered minor damage but were still standing—one of the few places untouched by the brunt of the invasion.

  Pushing open the door to his room, Marcus stepped inside and gently laid Athena down his bed.

  She groaned slightly but made no move to get up. Her breathing had already started to steady, exhaustion overtaking her pride.

  Marcus pulled a blanket over her before sitting on the chair opposite her.

  He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

  'Now with this over with, the Demonic Night Parade Arc is about to begin.'