I took off the cap that marked me as staff, crushed it into a paper moon, ready to toss it. Then it hit me—it was borrowed. I smoothed it like a rumpled leaf; the creases clung.

I’ll iron it before I return it. I flicked the cap into Shadow and headed for my rendezvous with Vega.

The corridor ran long as a river of stone. I tuned myself to the Shadow Realm. Silence fell like dry snow; no one nearby. I called shadows to coil around me.

The staff uniform sank into another space like ink in water. My usual black trench coat wrapped me like night.

By the time I passed the Grand Hall of the Martial Arena, the change was done.

Vega stood straight in the corner of a great colonnade, a blade set upright, and waved.

“My slow-moving master, over here.”

“If we play a role, we play it full. Don’t call me slow, Vega. Even actors have pride.”

I waved back, stepped into the corner, and hugged her. To anyone passing, we’d be lovers meeting in secret, a lantern of warmth in the wind. No one would interrupt.

Who’d guess this couple was talking through a Demon King’s plan?

“Standing straight is a fine habit. But as a girl waiting for her lover, you’re posing like an Immovable King statue. Doesn’t fit.”

“What’s the Immovable King statue?”

She didn’t get it.

“Think of the standing pose on the human-shaped idol of Fes, God of Strength.”

“Never seen it.” Disgust rolled off Vega like a curl of bitter smoke.

She really hates the gods. We’ll have to work with a Divine Being soon; try not to bare that fang so openly.

“Then think of the Demon King of War’s own statue. The grandest one.”

“That one.” Vega thought, then laughed, cold as a silver edge.

“Vega, that smile is not a girlfriend’s happy smile. Fix it.”

“Sorry. My humor’s odd, master. Don’t you think His Majesty of ‘War,’ that streaking lunatic, sculpted his genitals bigger than the original?”

Fair. At statue scale, daily life would get tricky. A Demon King can change form at will, but you don’t need oversized parts for breakfast and doors.

And don’t call my humor odd.

“That statue was built for vanity. Bigger is normal.”

Still, if the Demon Realm ever collapses, and future archaeologists dig it up, they’d better not model Demonfolk bodies off that thing.

“Anyway, you should hide in the corner, peek half a head out, wave shyly. Best with crimson cheeks and drifting eyes.”

“If this is a trivial hobby, permit me to refuse.”

Polite in words, sharp in tone.

“...Fine, business. Those in Hero Academy who can use legendary magic—what’s their movement?”

“Ancol, the Shadow of Light’s Calamity, and Mag, the Unbroken Bulwark, were badly wounded in the campaign against the Sky-Bearer Beozwuf. They may have died and been revived by the Rose Saint, Saint Mire. Either way, don’t expect them to fight. Gugwen of Radiant Dawn doesn’t wield legendary magic himself, but he has several items with legendary force. He can still fight.”

“Saint Mire can’t call down a Divine Being because of the Primordial Accord. Don’t count her in combat strength. The Hero-grade professors were recalled to their homelands due to other Demon Kings invading. They’re gone for now. The Hero Academy’s legendary labyrinth still isn’t mapped. That’s about right?” I sifted moth-eaten memories and checked them line by line.

“...Yes. You knew and still made me redo it, master.” Vega’s mood dimmed like a lamp in mist. “Soul Hunter Dofenpei was also summoned back to the Layered Forest Kingdom to help defend. Everything else is as you said.”

She was unhappy, and who wouldn’t be, after bleeding for intel that gets called redundant. My memory’s not crisp, not fully accurate. Wisdom God Haydon might’ve nudged history’s threads. Having Vega confirm again is necessary.

The broad strokes hold. My plan’s adjustments stay within bounds.

Hmm...

“Right, what about Alpha—my mentor, the former Hero?”

“Him? He’s not that strong. I checked. Outside daily special training for Miss Elina, he just gambles and drinks. Nothing to watch.”

“You’re underestimating him. The legendary magic ‘Burning Moonlight’ is a headsman’s blade. It soloed a Demon King at the moment of ascension.”

“But Alpha carries a curse left by His Majesty, the Misaligned Demon King. If he tries to save someone, events slide out of place...”

“‘Can’t save anyone,’ right? I can see the Demon King’s mark on him too. But if the curse breaks? In full form, Alpha can face Anna.”

“A Demon King’s curse, broken? You’ve another plan, then. I’ll say no more.”

“Alpha’s just insurance. We’ll revisit. Any other heroes who can use legendary magic?”

“Not for now. Your Hero Squad is hard to peg. Miss Stini was sealed in the principal’s office by Augustus, with Saint Mire delivering her meals daily. I think she won’t fight this time.”

“You’re underestimating her grit. Wait—”

Footsteps crossed the colonnade like quick rain. I pressed my lips to Vega’s small mouth, played the lovers. The passerby pretended not to see, quickened his stride, and went on like a leaf on wind.

I kissed Catherine earlier too. She hadn’t kept up fluids and food; her lips were a little cracked. Vega’s were full, sweet as cherries.

Both girls carried the Ocean of Darkness’s chill, yet each had that soft, clean fragrance.

When the passerby left the Shadow Realm’s sensing range, sure he wouldn’t eavesdrop, Vega tapped my shoulder, a bird flick on bark, telling me to let go.

“Hmm... Should I say ‘thanks, I’m satisfied’ or ‘thank you for your patronage’? Not important. Back to Stini. She’ll come, no question. Saint Mire doesn’t lie, so that sharp-intuition girl will fish out intel about Anna’s raid on Hero Academy. Then we wait for the Hero Squad’s captain to advance.”

Heroes may come late, but they don’t miss the show. No Divine Being governs Fate, yet that saying spread like seeds on wind.

Generation after generation, Heroes seemed to obey it, forging legend upon legend. Theory-wise, Heroes get blessed by both Demonfolk and a Divine Being. Their potential runs deep. In crisis, their sleeping power bursts like spring thaw.

I dug deep in the Demon Realm once, when boredom gnawed like a rat. Since the Primordial Accord, each newborn Demon King and Divine Being gifts a Hero a portion of power. That power passes down by blood, generation to generation. Forget authority; the mana alone rivals a proper Demon King. It’s just hard to draw out.

“Now the key: our lead, the great Hero with many names, the one who fought the fallen primordial Beozwuf—Augustus Sayadu. Any word?”

“None. You expect too much of your subordinates, master. I think he’s healing with his two teammates. Augustus is the main striker. Hard to stay unhurt.”

Hard to say...

That guy is Augustus, a Hero who breeds miracles. If he wants, he could kill the Sky-Bearer without a scratch. Public figures don’t vanish for no reason. The upper brass at Hero Academy heard no crisis. He even scraped cash from friends to repay the Academy debt he owed me. So there’s only one possibility—

He’s probably in special training.

And training that lets the strongest Hero in the human world climb another step, with Wisdom God Haydon offering no new tricks, can only be—

—the Ascension Plan to “God Among Mortals,” training reserved for those with the right to be enshrined.

In the original timeline, that plan was proposed late in the Silver Era. Catherine was the first to complete it. Now Augustus seems next.

There’s a success rate, sure. But if even the Hero can’t pass, who else could?

Fine. My original plan was to set Augustus against Anna. Best-case, he kills her. If she kills him, Stini’s fury ignites, and our squad rises. If Augustus ascends as a God Among Mortals after, the odds of killing Anna jump. Augustus is my ally anyway.

“My sweaty master, I don’t dislike your awful-taste coat or your too-strong hugs, but I must remind you—your Top Twelve doubles match with Elina is about to start.”

“You say you don’t mind me holding you long, yet your tone slides in malice...”

I let Vega go. She clung back for one last, reluctant squeeze.