After that, Caroline began talking about—this and that.
The more she spoke, the more Ian felt as if he were sinking into a dark abyss. Yet, amidst it all, there was one thing he realized.
“So, the Marquis has no intention of resolving this situation?”
“I have an idea.”
“Then why—?”
“There’s no way.”
Ian smirked inwardly as he looked at Caroline, who clearly wanted him to fix everything. Did she truly expect him to resolve this on his own?
This situation was the result of overlapping mistakes by adults and a host of unpredictable circumstances. How could Ian change something like that on his own?
Even if it were changeable, it wasn’t something Ian could handle alone.
‘I could give it my all and plead with them to listen… but—’
Ian had one 4-star summon and four 3-star summons. There were also many 4-star and 3-star Summoners he was close with. If he truly wished, he could force a change.
He could pacify the unruly cadets with words and handle the disobedient ones with force—just like the instructors from his military days, whom he’d once loathed. Violence and coercion could resolve the problems.
‘But what would that really accomplish?’
Issues not resolved through systemic reform were bound to resurface.
Ian, who had to eventually confront the Demon King, couldn’t keep managing the cadets forever.
This was a problem the academy—more precisely, the instructors—had to solve. The system needed to change, and trust had to be rebuilt.
But regaining lost trust was no easy task.
Sometimes it seemed better to tear the Academy down and start anew.
“Well, if I take action and something actually changes… then I’m ready to use my power whenever needed.”
“…Okay. Got it.”
“Well, if more cadets like you appear, this will all blow over soon. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks for the company.”
After saying that, Ian stood up, holding his tray. Despite his words, he knew true change would not come so easily.
Like all living things and societies, the Academy, too, was about to go through its own growing pains.
***
Ian had said it himself: This situation wouldn’t resolve easily.
It was a division born of unforeseen circumstances. At best, the academy instructors could only try to avoid a physical clash.
But sparks caused by the unpredictable often extinguish in equally mysterious ways.
“What…?”
“They’re all demons…?”
Demon heads, severed and grotesque, began arriving at the Academy, one by one, in carriages sent by Duke Therra and the Duke of Earth.
Even after unloading one full carriage, there were still ten more left. The cadets had never seen so many demon corpses in their lives.
After all, they weren’t full-fledged Summoners yet. In battle, they typically stayed behind fortress walls and deployed their summons from safety.
Compared to veteran Summoners, who engaged demons in direct combat, these cadets lacked experience, courage—everything.
“What is all this?”
“A gift from the Duke.”
Hearing this from the duke’s butler, Ian scratched his cheek in frustration.
‘A gift?’
What kind of useless offering was this? It couldn’t be eaten. It couldn’t be discarded lightly.
A gift only holds meaning if the recipient actually wants it. For reasons known only to him, the duke had decided to send the corpses of slain demons.
“Take them back.”
“We can’t. How could we…?”
“No, I don’t need them. Take everything back.”
When Ian tried to refuse, the butler seemed visibly displeased. But he couldn’t force Ian to accept it.
Despite being only a butler, he was standing before someone who’d earned the title of Marquis while still a cadet.
“If you won’t accept it, what are we to do…?”
“Then go back to your master and tell him to reconsider what constitutes a gift. Why are you still sitting here?”
Eventually, Ian decided to leave the heads outside the dormitory.
Of course, he didn’t forget to consecrate the demon heads first. If left unattended, they could rot or contaminate the ground.
What followed was surreal: the consecrated heads, once demonic enemies, were transformed into a sort of monument.
Every day, cadets passed by the grotesque tower of demon remains. And yet, strangely, they began to feel a kind of spiritual satisfaction.
“It’s a demon… Is it just me, or is this more impactful than expected?”
“Just a Duke alone? He defeated all these by himself? Then we should be able to handle something like this ourselves as well.”
“The demons attacked the cadets and we dealt with them right away?”
The cadets, who had lost trust in the academy and were on the verge of protesting, saying they could no longer trust the adults, changed their minds when they saw the Demon Tower.
They felt like the adults were doing a fine job of defeating the demons.
Somehow—thanks to Ian—the cadets regained their composure.
“Amazing! Marquis, you knew this was going to happen!”
“Uh… right.”
Seeing Syrah praise him, Ian was at a loss for words. Who could have predicted this?
Not even the system that sent Ian to another world could have anticipated this turn of events.
But there was no need to shy away from something that might just be to her credit.
“It was all predictable.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Hahaha.”
Awkward laughter filled the auditorium. Reckless, blind praise always felt uncomfortable.
***
‘It stings.’
Ian didn’t care what others thought of him—at least, not when it came to hostility. He was used to that.
But he had no experience dealing with admiration. It was hard to respond to the positive attention. The stares from the cadets now were awkward, almost overwhelming.
It made her dizzy.
—That’s Ian.
—The one who said to have hunted dozens of demons…
—Did you hear he’s engaged to the princess?
Rumors, mixing truth with fiction, inflated her achievements. Then those exaggerated rumors merged again with earlier whispers, ballooning even further.
It was a cycle no one could stop.
Wasn’t that the nature of gossip? Once it spreads, not even the Emperor could contain it.
“Ian.”
At that moment, someone arrived who could be described as a timely savior.
Catherine’s secretary. She would only show up for one reason.
Seeing Ian’s expression brighten as if he’d come back to life, the secretary chuckled and guided him to the principal’s office.
“Principal. I’ve brought him.”
“Ah, yes. You may go now. Just let Ian in.”
“Understood.”
Ian watched as the secretary bowed and left. Only after the woman had completely disappeared did Ian open the door and step inside.
Inside, Catherine looked exhausted, buried under a mountain of paperwork. She glanced up, offered a faint smile full of apology, and said: “I’m sorry, can you wait a little longer?”
“As long as needed.”
“Thank you.”
Ian, moving naturally, began making tea while watching Catherine work. He had been here several times already—it felt like her second room.
Having prepared tea for both of them, Ian brought the cups over.
With a soft clink, the tea was set down in front of the principal, who smiled and nodded in gratitude.
“Thank you.”
As she sipped her tea with a sigh, Ian glanced at the papers she was working on. Even at a glance, the sheer volume and complexity made his head spin.
Realizing he couldn’t help, Ian sighed and sat down.
‘There’s something…’
Feeling something under the sofa cushion, Ian lifted herself and pulled out the object.
It was like a long blanket. But it had a hole in it. More like a skirt, really…
‘A skirt?’
“Whew, finally done.”
Just then, Catherine finished her paperwork, stretched, and walked over to the sofa, cup in hand.
Ian looked down at the skirt in his hands, then slowly turned her head toward Catherine.
Realizing Ian was holding something, Catherine tilted her head in curiosity.
“What’s that…?”
“Uh…”
Their eyes met. Ian’s gaze instinctively dropped. Catherine, following her eyes, realized something.
Her lower half felt unusually breezy.
She remembered—she’d gotten uncomfortable while working, so she’d taken it off and tossed it somewhere.
And now, the skirt she’d removed… was in Ian’s hands.
“Ahhh—!”
Standing before her cadet in only her underwear, Catherine turned crimson and ducked her head.
There was nothing she could say.
Meanwhile, Ian silently turned his head, stunned into stillness.