These Demons Do it for Free

Chapter 7

Our last-place finish in the Exploration Skill Training instantly rolled our team’s status back down to that of common rabble, despite the string of victories we’d achieved in prior matches.

In fact, you could even say that the higher we had risen, the harder we fell. I could feel that drop keenly through the biased, scornful glances directed my way.

This morning’s training was Abyss Ecology. Unlike the practical outdoor sessions, this academic class was held indoors.

The training area looked more like a lecture hall, with rows of seats that ascended as they went farther back.

'I always thought I’d attend classes in a place like this if I went to college...'

Who would have thought I’d achieve that in a training camp, and in another world no less?

As I entered the lecture hall, the creaking sound of the door attracted the attention of everyone inside, their gazes immediately turning toward me.

Having been used to being the subject of such stares, I could easily read the emotions behind them.

Not that they were trying to hide it anyway.

It was a look I knew well—contempt mixed with a tinge of I knew this would happen.

The people who ignored me were almost a relief in comparison.

"Hey, it’s him. Take a look." "Isn’t that...?" "Yeah. That’s the demon sorcerer." "I heard he’s dead last." "Showed off on the first day, only to be exposed as a fraud." "Pfft, already?"

A few people spoke openly about me, as if they didn’t care whether I heard them or not.

This situation was all too familiar.

Like when someone says, ‘Hey, there’s your boyfriend walking by.’

To which the reply is, ‘Give me a break.’

Okay, maybe not exactly the same.

I ignored their stares and found a quiet spot in the corner, but no sooner had I sat down than I felt someone sit right next to me.

"Hey."

"Uh, hey."

I responded automatically before I even realized who it was.

She had vibrant red hair with a slight curl. Her clothes looked quite expensive.

She must come from a good family, like Arthur.

But why sit next to me?

"I heard you finished in last place?"

Her casual tone of voice suggested she was used to speaking informally, perhaps due to her high status.

"...If you came here to mock me, feel free to leave."

"Huh? No, I’m just curious. I saw your magic during the match. You didn’t seem like the type to take that long."@@@@

"I don’t think I owe you an explanation."

I threw out the informal tone, trying to push her away, but she didn’t seem to care.

Despite my clear indication that I wasn’t interested in talking, she continued.

"Oh, by the way, I’m Alejandra Rubio. I’m an elemental mage. I mainly use fire."

"Roman Sun. Demon sorcerer."

"Hmm, is that all?"

She seemed to be expecting me to elaborate, maybe tell her which demon I was contracted with, but why would I?

For a demon sorcerer, the identity of their contracted demon is top secret. Revealing it would be like handing over the key to your entire power.

"How about this? If you answer all my questions, I’ll let you join our team. We came in first, by the way."

Why was she so curious?

Arthur had mentioned the first-place team before. It was made up of recruits from the largest magic school, the Alexandria School of Magic.

So this was Alejandra’s team.

From dead last to joining the top team—it would be quite the status boost, wouldn’t it?

But that was exactly why I needed to be cautious.

There’s a saying: The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

"Doesn’t switching teams require the consent of the entire team?"

"It’s fine. They’re all good people. They’d do anything I ask."

Of course.

She looked like a precious lady from a noble family. Who would dare oppose her?

Her followers would probably nod along with whatever Alejandra decided, at least to her face.

'But behind her back, they’d start scheming. It’s obvious.'

Would Alejandra protect me from all that?

Doubtful.

From what I could tell, she was only talking to me to satisfy her curiosity. Once that was satisfied, she’d probably lose interest, like a child who captures a bug just to toy with it before tossing it aside.

"Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline."

"...Why?"

"My current team isn’t that bad. We only came in last because we haven’t synced up properly yet."

A lack of trust among teammates also meant we weren’t quite in sync.

Next time would be different.

Once we learned some basic magic and Rei stopped leading us to strange places, we could easily shave off a lot of time.

After all, the Exploration Skill Training would continue in a practical format like the last session. Soon enough, everyone would see that our last-place finish was just growing pains, part of our team’s development.

"You’ll regret it. You won’t gain anything by staying on a losing team."

A losing team.

She wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit annoyed. We had only taken so long because of unnecessary clashes, not because we lacked ability.

Besides, now we were truly a team. Just yesterday, I had told them to remember that we’re a team.

I picked up my pen.

Scene Transition

"You got rejected, didn’t you?"

A tall woman with ash-gray hair smirked as she spoke to Alejandra, who was returning from the lecture hall. Alejandra was fairly tall herself for a woman, but this gray-haired woman was at least half a head taller, probably standing over 180 cm.

Alejandra didn’t respond, but the man with brown hair standing next to her, Juan, cut in.

"Shut up, Amaya. Rejected? That idiot demon sorcerer blew his own opportunity."

"We call that ‘rejected,’ Juan. That’s what it’s called."

Juan clicked his tongue, an old habit whenever he had nothing to say.

"So, how did it go?"

"Hmm, interesting. I think it’ll be fun to uncover the truth."

Most demon sorcerers try to hide their abilities.

Mages are typically egotistical, priding themselves on control. They abhor powers that fall outside of that control. Hence, demon sorcerers, who rely on powers from a demon—a chaotic, uncontrollable force—are often regarded with disdain. They are seen as ticking time bombs, capable of causing catastrophe at any moment.

Thus, demon sorcerers are shunned, and their standing is always tenuous.

'But that guy, Roman, didn’t seem to care about any of that.'

Roman carried himself with confidence, so much so that it almost felt like he was proud of being a demon sorcerer.

'I wonder... what’s his deal? I’ll find out, eventually.'

Alejandra chuckled softly to herself, casting one last glance toward the lecture hall.

But she wasn’t the only one watching Roman.

Scene Transition: The Commandant's Office

In the commandant’s office, reports were being discussed.

The senior instructor, Marc, stood before the commandant, giving his daily report.

"Sir, we’ve begun the formal training sessions today."

"Good. And the number of recruits?"

"Forty-five, sir."

"Forty-five?"

The commandant’s voice held a note of surprise.

Typically, around fifty recruits were accepted into the training camp. Forty-five was noticeably below average.

But his tone implied that something else was at play.

"That’s a large number. I thought I specifically ordered you to make this intake particularly difficult. Did we lower the bar because some ‘special’ recruits came through this time?"

The commandant started listing off some of the recruits from memory.

The daughter of the head of the Alexandria School of Magic. The Grand Duchess from the ruling house of Les Rimen. A top-tier prospect from one of the strongest guilds.

Even the ones the commandant remembered off the top of his head were of that caliber. On top of that, there were a number of others sent by various organizations hoping to cozy up to these powerful figures.

Marc quickly denied the accusation.

"Of course not, sir. In fact, this intake is harder than usual. We even expelled the teams that lost in the preliminary team battles, cutting down the numbers."

Unbeknownst to the recruits, they had already planned to cull the weaker teams during the team battles to ensure only the best remained.

Normally, they wouldn’t disqualify recruits over one loss. However, with so many high-level entrants this year, there was no room to be lenient toward those who approached the test halfheartedly.

"Is that so? Still, forty-five is quite a lot."

"Many were drawn by those ‘shining stars,’ it seems."

"Like moths to a flame."

Those three—the major figures—had attracted a whole crowd of ambitious followers. No doubt they’d been handpicked from the best of their respective groups.

"And how did those three perform?"

"They lived up to their reputations. Truly outstanding."

"Hmph, they’re still chicks at the end of the day. Any other noteworthy developments? I’d rather not have any black sheep ruin the flock."

Marc was about to reply in the negative when he suddenly remembered something, and his expression grew cautious.

"Actually... there’s one that stands out."

"Who?"

"Roman Sun. A demon sorcerer."

"A demon sorcerer?"

What’s this?

The commandant narrowed his eyes at the mention, clearly intrigued by the unusual term, but he waited for Marc to continue.

"Something about him is strange."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn’t seem afraid at all."

Most demon sorcerers fear their own power.

They know that their power is a noose around their neck, one they’ve willingly placed upon themselves.

Becoming a demon sorcerer is like standing on the gallows, your hand on the lever. They pull the lever to use their power, knowing that one day, if they pull too hard, the noose will tighten and snap their neck.

"But Roman used magic that should have required a significant toll on his body, and yet he remained completely unaffected. It was as if he had no fear at all."

The commandant pondered this for a moment before speaking.

"Then it’s one of two things."

He paused briefly, then added:

"Either he’s a madman, or a delusional fool who thinks he’s special."

Neither of those types live long.

Especially not in the Abyss.