Academy’s New Guard is Unusual - Chapter 9

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

Episode 9
Where light burns bright, shadow deepens—and the glittering city’s back alleys were brutally, suffocatingly dark.
These were places the Security Force wouldn’t even bother to patrol.
In those alleys, Mailo had earned a reputation as a vicious creature.
When a skewer-thin blade once pierced his belly, he’d simply laughed and torn out his attacker’s throat with his teeth.
But this time, he couldn’t laugh.
‘Damn it. What kind of fist is this?’
The man’s fists descended like boulders—each impact a world of pain. Mailo, who’d endured countless wounds without so much as a whimper, found himself screaming.
Those fists came without pause, hammering his body relentlessly.
Yet something felt wrong. By now, such beating should’ve knocked him unconscious. Instead, his mind grew sharper, clearer with each blow.
‘What the—’
Then he saw it: a faint light shimmering around the man’s knuckles.
Holy Power. The man was wreathing his fists in Holy Power.
‘Why Holy Power in his fists?’
Mailo’s realization came slowly—his body bore no wounds. Not one.
Even as the man pummeled him, he was healing him simultaneously. The reason was simple.
‘So he can keep beating me. Forever.’
Their eyes met then.
The man’s gaze was utterly, devastatingly empty.
Like a blacksmith striking metal without passion, there was no emotion in it whatsoever.
“Woof! Woof!”
Mailo had no choice but to bark desperately.
* * *
‘Not bad.’
I nodded, watching Mailo.
He was decent, really. Strong resilience, quick reflexes. Above all, remarkably stubborn.
I wondered why someone like him was even in the Security Force.
Our eyes met.
Despite the beating, Mailo’s gaze still burned with life—he was biding his time, waiting for an opening.
I asked casually, as if unaware.
“Mailo, tell me about Squad 42.”
“Squad 42 is a support unit.”
His answer was correct, but his words were sparse. A man of considerable pride.
“A support unit?”
“Yeah. We have no assigned duties—we respond to requests for support from other squads.”
“So, general labor.”
“General—”
A flash of killing intent crossed Mailo’s eyes. Yet he didn’t lunge.
‘Support unit. Excellent.’
Because they respond to requests, they could be assigned to various locations—exactly what I needed.
‘Is fortune working in my favor?’
Things were falling into place far too smoothly.
“Who’s the squad leader?”
I asked lightly, assuming I wouldn’t retain the name of some ordinary guard anyway.
But Mailo’s answer wasn’t light at all.
“The squad leader is Evelyn.”
“Wait—Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
Mailo answered with visible reluctance.
‘Evelyn, operative of the Republic.’
Even the Empire, which dominated the continent, had threats to fear. They were called the Empire’s Ten Threats.
The Republic ranked first among them.
The Republic claims to stand for nothing but equality. It sounds virtuous on the surface, but the problem is their leader—their Chancellor.
The Chancellor is obsessed with equality. Obsessed to the point where he’d reduce the entire continent to ash if it meant achieving true equality.
Under such a Chancellor, the Republic stops at nothing. They’re genuine madmen—once they bite, they don’t let go.
Evelyn is the Republic’s operative. A significant one at that—she’s even destroyed Elysium Academy wholesale.
And now she’s the squad leader—
‘This is getting interesting.’
I tapped the hilt of my sword rhythmically.
“And the vice-leader?”
“The vice-leader is—”
Mailo paused briefly.
I didn’t pay close attention. With Evelyn already revealed, how much more significant could anyone else be?
“The vice-leader is Hanswell.”
Hanswell—? The name triggered something. Familiar somehow.
I’d definitely heard it before—
Then a memory surfaced.
‘The Headmaster’s half-brother.’
The Headmaster came from the Keriatian Family, one of the six great houses known as the pillars of the Empire.
Officially, the Headmaster was an only child. But Hanswell was his half-brother.
I remember this detail for one reason: when Hanswell dies, the Headmaster goes berserk—becomes a calamity.
The Headmaster’s rampage was a forced event no route could prevent.
And now Hanswell, the Headmaster’s trigger, was the vice-leader—
‘Dangerous.’
Hanswell’s presence would inevitably draw the Headmaster’s attention. That was deeply problematic.
But simultaneously, it was an opportunity.
‘If I can use Hanswell, I might be able to stop the Headmaster’s rampage.’
This was a route I’d never attempted before. I hadn’t even known Hanswell was in the Security Force—only after joining did this possibility open.
‘I have to use this.’
Just then, someone knocked on the warehouse door.
“Mailo.”
At that composed voice, Mailo jolted with obvious fear.
“Damn it! It’s Hanswell!”
Mailo shrieked as if a demon had appeared.
The door was locked, yet it swung open without a sound, its mechanism shattered cleanly. There stood a man of neat appearance.
Every strand of hair lay perfectly in place, his uniform immaculate, his sharp glasses flawless.
His whole appearance screamed meticulous, exacting temperament.
“Mailo, why are you here?”
“V-vice-leader—”
Upon seeing Hanswell, Mailo flinched, lowering his gaze.
“I distinctly told you to bring the new recruit directly.”
“That is—”
“Don’t tell me you’ve been up to some bizarre ‘junior initiation ritual’ again. You know better than anyone that Squad 42 is understaffed.”
“So what I’m—”
“And you didn’t even complete your morning patrol today. The entrance ceremony is tomorrow—you need to be careful. Plus, why did you disappear before your shift ended yesterday?”
“The work was finished, and it was only 5 minutes—”
“Who gave you permission to leave 5 minutes early? Mailo, you’re always late as it is. Yesterday an hour and 2 minutes, today 46 minutes.”
Hanswell continued his scolding without pause. Even listening from the side made me dizzy. Mailo’s face grew progressively paler.
Then Hanswell’s gaze shifted to me—eyes like a hawk’s, resembling the Headmaster’s.
“You must be the newly recruited Grave.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“I’m Hanswell, vice-leader of Squad 42. We’re busy, so I’ll explain as we go.”
Before I could respond, Hanswell turned and left the warehouse. He seemed to be a man in a hurry.
Then Mailo leaned toward me and asked cautiously.
“Senior training—is it over?”
Mailo asked sidelong, eyes on Hanswell.
Though he’d never show it outwardly, the Headmaster regarded Hanswell with extraordinary care. When Hanswell dies, the Headmaster’s eyes flip—he slaughters students indiscriminately.
To beat Hanswell—
It was a horrifying prospect.
I ignored Mailo’s forlorn gaze and followed Hanswell.
Hanswell headed straight for the Security Force headquarters.
The headquarters looked like a European police station. Officers in Security Uniforms moved diligently around it.
Each floor housed a different squad’s office, and Squad 42’s was on the top floor, in the farthest corner.
Hanswell retrieved something from a cabinet and handed it to me.
It was a Security Baton, the kind guards carried in the game.
“Our academy very rarely encounters Fissures—a type of trap. A Fissure is a trap whose cause we haven’t even identified yet, and even our professors can die if they’re caught in one.”
At the mention of Fissures, my attention sharpened.
“Usually the professors handle Fissures. The problem is, you can’t know their nature until you enter one. You need to understand the nature first so you can plan an approach and assemble a rescue team. That understanding—that’s our job.”
Hanswell held out the Security Baton.
“When our elite guard discovers a Fissure, we enter it first, before any students are caught. Then we identify the Fissure’s nature, send a signal, and wait for rescue.”
I already knew this—the game’s Fissure revelations came through the Security Force.
Yet a question arose.
“Doesn’t entering a Fissure drastically reduce the odds of rescue?”
“Nine times out of ten, you die.”
Hanswell spoke matter-of-factly, his tone carrying no weight to the brutal statement.
“If you’re afraid, you can quit now.”
I wasn’t afraid. Fissures were one reason I’d chosen the Security Force.
“I’m fairly brave, actually.”
I took the Security Baton readily.
For a moment, Hanswell’s expression softened slightly. But it hardened again just as quickly.
“You’ll see four buttons on the base.”
True to his words, the base bore four buttons—one with a sword, one with a staff, one with a skull, one with a holy relic.
“If the Fissure’s nature is Knight, press the sword button. Mage, press the staff. Dark Mage, press the skull. Priest, press the relic. If the nature is mixed, press all applicable buttons simultaneously.”
“Straightforward.”
“It has to be, for use in emergencies. Of course, encountering a Fissure is extremely rare. Most days you won’t even spot one during patrol.”
Hanswell added this in a flat tone. I nodded lightly.
“Now, put this on. Since your recruitment wasn’t planned, it’ll take time for your uniform to arrive.”
Hanswell produced a Security Uniform from the cabinet—clearly worn by someone before.
“Understood.”
I took the uniform and headed into the changing room.
The uniform was made of quality fabric, befitting Elysium Academy.
The problem was its appearance. To be honest, no matter how many times I saw it, the Security Uniform looked absolutely ridiculous.
‘Are they trying to catch enemies off-guard with how stupid this looks?’
I changed into it and tucked the Security Baton into my belt, tongue clicking silently.
Of course, I’d have no use for the Security Baton.
‘I’ll handle it myself.’
Fissures were brutally difficult traps, but the rewards for clearing them were guaranteed.
I had no intention of sharing.
When I exited in the uniform, faces unfamiliar to me sat around a table—Squad 42’s members, apparently.
Yet their faces were strangely familiar.
Recognizing the face of a common guard was a massive problem.
“Oh my, a new recruit?”
A woman with spider-like features and dark hair smiled sweetly. Her uniform was so shortened that her navel showed—a melon’s belly button.
“This is Scarlet.”
Hanswell gestured toward the woman as he introduced her.
‘Scarlet, the Holy Maiden of Foreign Lands.’
The Scarlet I remembered was a horrific monster covered in hundreds of tentacles.
Scarlet was a major villain appearing in the late game. With Evelyn and Hanswell already here, now Scarlet too?
And Scarlet wasn’t the end. The man beside her with long hair, smoking, was also familiar.
“This is Rudrick.”
‘Rudrick, the Spear Ghost.’
The Spear Ghost Rudrick appeared alongside Scarlet as a package, and his martial prowess was formidable—capable of taking down a Sword Master alone.
I turned toward the large, quiet figure in the corner. He too felt familiar.
“This is Volcan.”
‘Volcan, the Barbarian.’
Volcan was a villain appearing in the early game—a savage who wore a student’s entrails like a necklace.
“The new recruit is Grave.”
With Hanswell’s introduction, all eyes turned to me at once.
Squad leader: Republican operative. Vice-leader: the Headmaster’s trigger. Squad members: the Holy Maiden, the Spear Ghost, the Barbarian—
“It’s an honor to meet you all.”
I meant it sincerely.
I was genuinely delighted.

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