After the Emperor and Ian’s conversation, silence filled the carriage.
Although Stella and Syrah had claimed they were fine, their pale, grim expressions said otherwise.
“What’s the matter?” Ian asked.
“…No, it’s nothing.”
They insisted they were okay, but Ian knew better. There was no way someone truly fine would wear such haunted expressions.
As Ian pondered their reactions, curiosity got the better of him.
“Did you think you wouldn’t die?”
“…I mean, you didn’t exactly say we would.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I thought we were just going somewhere far away. I didn’t think death would be included too…”
Noah, who had no family to worry about, and Dinua, whose family wished she was dead, remained indifferent. But Stella and Syrah—successors of a duke and a marquis—were a different story. Both were the beloved only daughters of powerful families.
“If my dad finds out, he’ll definitely cause an uproar…”
“My father too…”
“Oh my, I thought the Duke had his hands full already. Doesn’t look that way now.”
“…Enough. You realize that if we die, it won’t just end with us, right?” Stella said, lifting her hand.
As the legitimate heirs of their families, both Stella and Syrah had inherited their family’s summons. The significance was clear—if they died, the lineage could be severed.
“Anyway, the South really needs Ifrit for multiple reasons…!”
“Wouldn’t this make the 4 Dukes into the 3 Dukes?”
“You—!”
Unable to accept the sudden circumstances, Stella and Syrah glared at each other, looking ready to argue, but Ian gestured for them to calm down.
“It’s okay. Even without you, Stella, the frontline will hold.”
“…How can you be so sure?”
“Well, there’s another 4-star Summoner left on the continent, right?”
“Who is that—”
Stella began to ask, but then paused as the answer came to her: the Principal of the Academy.
A 4-star Summoner, and master of the Mountain Keeper—Catherine.
She remained at the Academy, located at the heart of the continent, to supervise the cadets and be ready to respond anywhere at a moment’s notice.
Even if Ifrit was temporarily absent, the South wouldn’t fall.
And most importantly—
“If you think about why we have to fake our deaths… it’ll probably make sense.”
“…Reason? What reason?”
“You still don’t know?”
“You never told us.”
Hearing Syrah’s question, Ian realized they still hadn’t been told the real reason behind the staged deaths.
Of course, blindly following him without knowing why… he genuinely worried about their future.
‘If it had been anyone else, they would’ve had their soul sucked dry by now…’
He finally explained.
“We are being sacrificed to the demons.”
“…What?”
“Excuse me?”
“D-Demon?”
“Yes. Demons.”
Ian stared out the window with a wry smile. He had once foolishly believed that exile would offer him a quiet place to rest.
* * *
[Third Person POV]
“Ian Clark.
Noah Mellie.
Stella Eritz.
Syrah Acacia.
Dinua Erebus.
The five individuals listed above are presumed missing following a carriage accident…”
This announcement appeared across the Academy and quickly spread beyond.
Naturally, news of five high-ranking summoners vanishing without a trace sent shockwaves through the continent. Everyone assumed they were dead.
The Academy was thrown into turmoil.
This wasn’t just any group of cadets. Among the missing were a multiple summoner, the only daughter of a duke, and others with powerful lineage. Though perhaps less renowned than Ian or Stella, the daughters of a marquis and a count still held great influence.
Noble families began protesting the Academy.
[What is this nonsense?! Am I supposed to hear about my daughter’s death from a subordinate?!]
Duke Hypnos of House Eritz was livid. Learning of his daughter’s “death” from someone else was a humiliation he couldn’t tolerate.
Fortunately, his fury, usually bubbling beneath the surface like magma, didn’t explode outright. Remaining composed, he contacted the Academy directly through a secure channel.
But the Academy Principal’s response only stoked the fire.
“We’re still looking into it.”
[You’re trying to find out?! Are you trying to erase every trace of responsibility with that one sentence?!]
“I have no choice, Duke.”
The principal, fully aware of the agony of knowing too much yet being forced to keep secrets, tried to reassure him.
“Do you know where those five disappeared?”
[I don’t care.]
“It happened while they were riding an imperial carriage. Do you understand what that means, Duke?”
The implication was clear: the imperial family was involved. The Emperor, no less. It was a not-so-subtle way of saying “back off.”
But the speaker clearly didn’t know the duke well enough.
He was a man of fire. The more you tried to suppress him, the more fiercely he burned.
Emperor or god—it didn’t matter. If he believed something was unjust, he would act.
[The Emperor? The Emperor had a hand in my daughter’s death?!]
“…Those words could be considered as dishonoring the Emperor. Please be careful—”
[Dishonoring the Emperor? I’ll show you dishonor! That would be fun. Just imagining that b*stard’s face if the southern defenses suddenly collapsed…]
The duke casually insulted the emperor and cut off the communication without warning.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, the principal immediately attempted to reestablish contact with the Duke of Eritz.
However, no matter how many times she tried, the communication wouldn’t go through. Rubbing her temples in frustration, the principal eventually began contacting the emperor instead.
When the emperor finally responded, he burst into laughter and spoke to the principal.
[Principal, didn’t I warn you from the beginning?]
“…Your Majesty, please—”
[Yes, yes. I spoke to Duke Eritz a little while ago. I didn’t know that man could curse like that. Impressive.]
It was already too late. The principal realized as much and lowered her head in silence, having nothing left to say. Seeing this, the emperor delivered a final remark.
[Do better next time.]
With those words, the emperor hung up.
The principal, now fully aware of the bleakness of her future, paled at the realization.
***
A week passed.
The emperor sent death row inmates—specifically prepared for this purpose—to negotiate with the demons at the Western Front. After spending a week mingling with the demons, the prisoners, moved by fear, cried and begged not to die.
However, the emperor, unwilling to jeopardize the operation for the sake of two convicts, had them executed without hesitation. The two men died with expressions full of fear and resentment.
“That should be enough…”
The demons, amused by the dead men’s expressions, were satisfied. The emperor sent the severed heads to the duke with high expectations. The duke, in turn, handed them over to the demons.
When the demons saw the faces of the deceased, they burst into laughter and grabbed the heads eagerly.
Watching them depart, Duke Therra asked, “Will you keep your promise?”
“Of course—unless you attack us first. We Asmodians keep our word. Ke. Ke. Keck, Keck.”
With those cryptic words, the demons returned to their territory. Whether or not they would truly honor their promise remained unknown. But one thing was certain.
‘Those guys…’
The demons couldn’t distinguish heroes from ordinary humans. And just as they said, it seemed there would be no conflict—as long as humanity didn’t provoke them for a few decades. It was likely due to the arrogance of beings with infinite lifespans who believed they could overturn everything after humanity’s peace had dulled their edge.
Once the demons had completely retreated, the duke contacted the emperor and submitted his report.
“What shall we do now, Your Majesty?”
[Hmm… It’ll take some time for the heads to reach the demon’s stronghold.]
“Yes, I believe so.”
Even with their speed, it would take the demons a week to cross the vast territory and deliver the heads to the demon king. If the demon king discovered they were fakes, it was predicted that he would take another week—or longer—before launching an invasion in a fit of rage.
Minimum: two weeks. Maximum: one month.
That was the window of peace humanity had secured.
[In the meantime… I’ll have to ask those cadets to endure a little more.]
The emperor thought of Ian and the others, who were currently enjoying a break in exile. If the demons showed no signs of retaliation after a month, he would have to send them back to the Academy.
So, what could be done for the next month? It was a matter of maintenance. One month free from the threat of demons. In that month, the emperor had to root out spies and strengthen the empire’s internal affairs.
Already overwhelmed by the looming workload, the emperor turned to the duke and pressed a hand to his forehead.
[Before the typhoon comes, the wind is calmest. Be prepared for what may follow a month from now.]
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Thus concluded the first negotiation between humans and demons. A brief, fragile peace had arrived. Balanced precariously on the edge of a blade, the emperor could only pray that this peace would not be shattered.
***
Meanwhile, what were Ian and the others doing during their month of enforced detention?
“Ahh!?”
“Oh, Noah! You—!”
“Hehe, take that!”
They were relaxing at the empire’s most luxurious resort—a place usually reserved exclusively for the emperor and his family.
The indoor pool, far beyond anything the Academy had to offer, belonged solely to them—just five people. In that spacious area, their lively chatter echoed. The women even summoned their own summons for entertainment.
Watching this unfold, Ian smiled bitterly.
‘I was so worried.’
They had all cried when told they had to pretend to be dead. He had feared they’d be locked away in a prison cell somewhere, living like monks for a few weeks…
And yet, the reality?
The emperor had opened up private leisure facilities usually reserved for royalty. He had even assigned them personal maids to ensure their comfort.
‘This… this is heaven.’
In simple terms, they had faked their deaths and ended up in paradise.