Academy’s New Guard is Unusual - Chapter 67

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 67
Magic and Black Magic are fundamentally different in nature.
Magic draws from the mana of the natural world, while Black Magic channels the power of demons at the cost of one’s life force.
Mages cursed Black Mages as filthy parasites, while Black Mages called Mages hypocrites.
There were those who attempted to unify Magic and Black Magic.
They were Witches.
To merge Black Magic and Magic, Witches stopped at nothing.
From that pursuit came Magical Devices.
While some experiments succeeded like the Magical Device, others failed catastrophically.
The most infamous failure was the Homunculus.
Witches created Hominculuses to oppose The Church, which hunted them.
The goal was to plant a Demon Heart into a mage so they could wield both Black Magic and Magic simultaneously.
The concept was sound, but the problem was the Demon Heart itself.
What chance did a human have of surviving when a Demon Heart was implanted into them?
Most became a handful of blood consumed by the Demon Heart.
Yet occasionally, success occurred.
The odds were roughly one percent.
One percent was a vanishingly small chance, but not to Witches.
Catch a hundred, and one would succeed.
My body, hardened through Aura Tempering, survived the Demon Heart implantation.
As a result, I gained the ability to wield both Magic and Black Magic, but I wasn’t particularly grateful.
Thump-thump! Thump-thump!
The demon takes any opportunity to hunt for my soul.
In truth, Black Magic was of little use against Holy Power.
If Holy Power were fire, Black Magic would be oil—using it only fed the flames.
So then—
“Hypersensitivity.”
I raised my hand. Black liquid like rotting blood dripped from my fingertip.
“Using a Curse like a fool,” I muttered.
The Golden Mask laughed openly at me, and the pure white light before it grew more intense—as if welcoming the Curse.
But the Curse did not fly toward them.
The blackened drops of blood fell over my own head.
“……A Curse on yourself?”
As the Curse settled over my head, a sharp, needle-like anxiety welled up.
The Maces pointed at me felt ready to shatter my skull at any moment.
Hypersensitivity was a Curse that sharpened the nerves, amplified anxiety, and made the target collapse from within.
But it had an unexpected benefit.
‘I’ll sharpen my mind.’
When struck by Hypersensitivity, the mind becomes abnormally clear.
Hypersensitivity alone had little use, but—
“Rampage.”
Adding the Rampage Curse changed everything. Rampage drove the target into a frenzy where they couldn’t distinguish ally from enemy.
Normally, the mind should scatter the instant Rampage takes hold, but the Hypersensitivity cast beforehand forcibly anchored the raging mind.
Like multiplying a negative by a negative to get a positive, I layered Curse upon Curse to create a buff effect.
Of course, unlike a normal buff, it had the fatal drawback of consuming life force—
‘There’s plenty of life force here to burn.’
I slowly turned my gaze.
Fanatics charged toward me. Their cries of “Glory glory glory!” echoed from a distance.
Area Magic would be most effective here, but I only had two Mana Stones. I had to conserve them.
Blood vessels bulged across the hand gripping the Mana Stone.
The Rampage effect sent my latent power exploding outward. The Mana Stone bit deeper into my flesh, and blood sprayed in a long arc.
Immediately, I cast Magic. A small bundle of mana shot from my fingertip.
“Mana Bolt.”
Mana Bolt was the most basic of basic spells, the first thing any mage learned. It was neither flashy nor particularly powerful—merely equivalent to an ordinary arrow—so high-ranked mages rarely used it.
Yet a single arrow, depending on where it struck, could be fatal.
Of course, hitting the mark accurately against hundreds of enemies would normally be impossible with ordinary focus.
But my mind was sharpened to its limit by Hypersensitivity.
“Glory glory glory glory!”
The Golden Mask targeting me came into view. I looked at them and flicked my finger.
The Mana Bolt shot true, striking directly into their throat.
“Glo—”
The Golden Mask fumbled, their hand wavering as they clutched at their neck. Shock rippled through their movements.
Pure white light flared roughly. They were attempting to heal.
“Mana Bolt.”
Another Mana Bolt shot forth and lodged in exactly the same spot. The figure, barely recovering, collapsed entirely.
As they fell, another Mana Bolt followed. The same location, once more.
Finally, their throat severed, and the head flew up into the air.
A truly pathetic end.
“What?! That was weak!”
Evangeline laughed mockingly.
Just then, the Fanatic beside her seized the Golden Mask.
“Glory glory glory!”
The Fanatic lifted the severed head and placed it atop their own. The sight was grotesque, but stranger still—the head fused directly to the Fanatic’s crown.
“Glory glory glory!”
Two heads opened their mouths wide and screamed in unison.
“Eek! Just joking! Joking!”
Evangeline hastily ducked back behind me.
‘This is absolutely insane.’
I resisted the urge to throttle Evangeline’s head and instead curled my finger.
My finger tensed as though loading a shot.
* * *
‘Is that really a Mana Bolt?’
Evangeline watched Grave while muttering to herself in disbelief.
Mana Bolt was magic at its most fundamental. Even Evangeline could cast it.
Yet the Mana Bolts Grave unleashed were something else entirely.
Those struck by his Mana Bolt toppled where they stood. Those nearby became tangled and collapsed in turn.
Dozens fell to a single Mana Bolt.
It bore no resemblance to the Mana Bolt Evangeline knew.
“Mana Bolt.”
Grave continued bombarding with Mana Bolts. With each impact, the enemy formation shook violently.
This was possible with Mana Bolt?
Even to Evangeline’s eye, it was extraordinary.
“Glory glory glory glory!”
The figure with three heads screamed loudly. The Golden Mask was at its center.
Pure white light crashed like a wave, and the fallen rose again. One with a pierced throat approached, hands cradling its head.
It was a horrifying sight, yet Grave spoke without emotion.
“Back.”
Evangeline quickly retreated. Grave stepped back as well, firing Mana Bolts straight ahead.
The pace, already blindingly fast, grew faster still.
Mana Bolts came in rapid succession.
Dozens of Mana Bolts embroidered the air. The wave of Fanatics heaved violently.
But it was only a momentary lull. The pure white tide came surging back.
“Back.”
Evangeline stepped back again, and Grave followed, firing as he came.
Beneath the savage atmosphere lay something else—to Evangeline, it resembled a waltz in a grand ballroom.
Evangeline did her best not to have Grave step on her feet.
How long did this continue?
Thud. Evangeline’s back touched something. A wall.
There was nowhere left to retreat.
“Glory has arrived!!!”
The man with multiple heads roared. Pure white light blazed intensely from him, riding the air like a wave.
Hundreds of Fanatics surged forward in a tide.
“Back.”
“I can’t go back! We’re at the end!”
“Ah. We’ve arrived then.”
……Arrived?
The phrasing felt oddly deliberate. Evangeline rolled up her sleeves and spoke.
“Should I help?! I can cast Mana Bolt!”
“You’ll only get in the way. Stay quiet.”
“Yes, sir!”
Already frightened, Evangeline quickly nodded.
Grave’s face tensed. On closer look, it was a smile. Savage, certainly, but a smile nonetheless.
Then Grave turned sharply.
All Evangeline could see now was his back. Grave’s back was broad—so wide it blocked her entire field of vision.
Beyond it, cries of “Glory!!” echoed faintly from far away.
Evangeline had no intention of standing idle.
She had to do what she could.
‘I search for the anomaly!’
Evangeline closed her eyes and pressed both index and middle fingers to her forehead.
To heighten her ‘sense’.
She concentrated to her limit.
Then suddenly, the surrounding noise faded.
It felt as though her vision gathered to a single point.
Push further, and darkness crept in—
“Surely you’re not sleeping?”
Grave’s dryly skeptical voice made Evangeline’s eyes snap open.
‘I dozed off!’
Evangeline tried to sound composed as she spoke.
“No! I was concentrating to find the anomaly!”
“Wipe the drool from your lips before you speak.”
Evangeline quickly wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. It was moist.
“Tsk. Running late.”
Grave muttered irritably.
* * *
Bang! Bang!
“Glory has come! Glory!”
Milo pressed his back against the door, which shook violently.
At first there was one. Ignoring him only brought more, and now they were overwhelming.
“Damn it! How much longer!!”
He shouted desperately, but Andy didn’t even glance his way, utterly absorbed by the strange patterns drawn on the floor.
The situation was urgent, yet here Andy was, drawing pictures on the ground. Milo had heard it called a Magical Circle, but he couldn’t fathom it.
His role was simple.
To keep anyone from entering here.
Milo gritted his teeth and held the door firm, turning over Grave’s words in his mind.
Then—
Crack!
An ominous sound. Milo turned to see a Mace smash through the door. As the Mace withdrew, a man appeared through the splintered opening.
“Glory has come. Receive the Glory.”
The man spoke softly, smiling.
Glory my ass. His eyes slid past Milo toward Andy.
“Ah? How inglorious—to be caught in such ignoble conduct.”
The man grinned widely, as if he’d spotted something delightful. That smile was truly grotesque.
“A Heretic!”
“A Heretic? A Heretic!”
“A Heretic!!!”
The man opened his mouth and bellowed.
Heretic! Heretic! From all sides came echoing cries.
“It’s Magic, not a Heretic! You brainless fools!”
“Magic! A Heretic! A Heretic!”
Bang! Bang! Each Mace impact shook the already pathetic door until it shattered completely. Beyond it came the hollow-eyed mob, gasping and surging forward.
‘Crazy bastards.’
Milo took a step back from the door and glanced sideways at Andy.
Andy remained wholly absorbed in the strange diagram. How much progress had been made was impossible to tell.
Yet one thing was certain.
More time was needed.
So then—
“Come on in. You little shits.”
Milo raised his fists, grinning. Aura rippled across his knuckles.
Normally, this would be enough to make them hesitate, but these lunatics charged in eagerly with their Maces raised.
“A Heretic! A Heretic!”
“This is an Aura, you ignorant bastards.”
Milo mimicked Grave’s tone and clicked his tongue, swinging his fist.
His knuckle drove true into a face, and the man’s neck spun violently backward.
An ordinary person would have died from such trauma, but this one grasped his own head and wrenched it back straight, still screaming.
“Glory glory glory!”
“Glory is bullshit.”
Milo spat the words and threw a barrage of punches.
The Prayer Chamber’s entrance was narrow. Only one could enter at a time, so facing them one by one—
“Glory!!”
A Mace flew from behind, disregarding the head of another Fanatic in its path.
For an instant, Milo faltered. The opening was enough for the Mace to slam into his shoulder.
The opponent’s head shattered as well, but—
“Glory glory glory!!”
“Glory! Glory! Glory!”
Pure white light flared, and the broken head reattached.
No matter how much they heal, they strike each other down without hesitation—
“You traitors have no honor.”
Milo twisted his mouth and raised his fist again.
Between his knuckles, he glimpsed the wild-eyed mob and the cold gleam of Maces.
A truly brutal landscape, yet he could not fall back.
A student stood behind him.
“Glory glory glory!!”
A Fanatic roared.
Milo raised his fist and shouted.
“Guard!!!”
His Aura blazed with raw power.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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