Damn Academy - Chapter 252



252 – In the Embrace of the Master

A ragged old vagrant, half-bald, stumbled out.

One of his eyes had turned white, having lost its function, and his arms and legs were thin and withered like twigs.

Despite his frail appearance, the vagrant moved with the languid grace of a noble.

Damian knew. His sight was not far gone, and he was not a true vagrant. He was merely one of the countless forms the Doppler had learned.

Clap, clap, clap.

He slowly directed applause toward Damian, revealing yellowed teeth in a grin. There was no hint of respect or reverence in that smile. It was mockery.

Damian instinctively sensed that this Doppler was different from those he had faced before.

To understand and wield mockery required a higher level of cognitive ability. It seemed to think and act independently, beyond merely mimicking human behavior on the surface.

The vagrant spoke in a voice laced with a metallic rasp.

“Welcome back to hell… Apprentice of the Grand Sorcerer.”

Surrounded by Dopplers, there was no escape for Damian. He looked up at the sky. The dark clouds writhed like serpents. The word “hell” was a rather fitting description for the Dopplers.

He closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought. He considered those who had been replaced by Dopplers. He could not even fathom how many lives had been sacrificed. They must have rotted away without receiving any mourning, without even a small grave to rest in.

And he thought of the prophet who had died with a pierced throat. He believed the prophet should not have died that way. He felt he deserved a better ending.

Damian opened his eyes.

He did not respond to the Doppler. It would learn and mimic his voice and mannerisms.

The vagrant continued.

“You will… die here… and be replaced.”

“…”

“All that you have learned will become meaningless. That artifact, your sword, your status as an apprentice, the teachings of the Academy—everything.”

“…”

Several Dopplers wore grinning expressions. Their smirking lips stretched grotesquely to their ears. They seemed to have no intention of appearing human in front of Damian.

Among the enemies, a guardian wielding a sword began to stride forward. His uniform was soaked with rain. His thick, sturdy forearms stood out. He was the body of a seasoned swordsman.

From the movements of the Dopplers, it was clear they were not planning a coordinated attack.

The Doppler drew his sword and gradually quickened his pace toward Damian. With precise arm movements, he swung his blade.

Clang!

Damian parried the sword but felt a numbing sting in his hand. Moreover, being born of a beast, his basic strength surpassed that of a human.

Yet, it was not enough to corner Damian. After a few exchanges, he deciphered the pattern and swiftly severed the Doppler’s neck.

The other Dopplers formed a circle, quietly observing the scene. There was not the slightest tremor at the death of one of their own. It felt as if they were watching a street performer.

Only then could he feel it. The Dopplers wanted Damian to resist, to struggle, rather than simply surrender to death.

This fight was sure to continue until Demian absorbed Doppler’s swordsmanship.

Doppler, cloaked like a traveler, charged at Demian with swords in both hands.

Clang! Clang!

Doppler thrust the sword in a way Demian had never experienced before. Twirling like a dance, two swords flew in sync with a single rhythm. His feet spent more time in the air than on the ground. Unaccustomed to the dazzling swordplay, Demian was pushed back step by step.

He remembered that this type of swordsmanship existed in the hot southern continent. But the movements were so fluid and seamless that it felt more than mere imitation.

And the fight dragged on longer than before.

As the exchanges exceeded ten, Demian suddenly thrust his sword with blinding speed.

The wooden sword pierced Doppler’s chest.

“Kyah! Kyaaah!”

As the sword was sheathed, Doppler let out a sound characteristic of himself, writhing in pain.

Demian kicked away the incapacitated opponent.

There was no time to rest. When it was his turn, Doppler, now clad in imperial knight armor, charged again.

He was employing the orthodox swordsmanship of the imperial knights. Having seen many students wielding similar techniques in Eternia, Demian recognized it well.

Clang! Clang!

The swords clashed fiercely multiple times.

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Though it was a refined imperial swordsmanship, Demian found it strange how the techniques subtly changed as they fought.

Then, unexpectedly, a sword struck from an unforeseen angle, grazing Demian’s ribs.

He retaliated by pushing the opponent away with his foot, creating distance.

Afterward, he took a moment to catch his breath and reestablish his stance. A warm liquid flowed down his chest. When he touched it, his hand came away stained with blood. This was no easy opponent.

Had he ever drawn blood in a sword duel with a classmate? He recalled that aside from Zion, he had not.

His skill was by no means inferior to that of the students in Eternia.

Doppler, pushed back, soon regained his balance and took his stance.

“…”

“Cough, cough, cough… cough, cough, cough.”

Doppler and a few others began to laugh unpleasantly, revealing their yellowed teeth.

Demian bit his lip.

That Doppler was mirroring Demian’s stance. The angle of the sword, the position of the feet, the shape of the hands, even the rhythm of breathing matched perfectly. It was enough to evoke the illusion of standing before a mirror.

Demian glanced around at the Dopplers surrounding him. The more he fought, the more his techniques would be fully absorbed by them.

*

The afternoon classes in Eternia were completely suspended. Though the exact reason was not disclosed, the students knew it was due to the incident involving Claridium.

In front of the Faculty Building of Eternia, students were gathered, worrying about the fate of the art club members.

The rumor, which spread like wildfire, was being amplified and reproduced in various corners.

“They say the entire art club is isolated in Claridium. Everyone is gathering to form a rescue team.”

“No, I heard they all got out safely?”

“Did Doppler show up and they ran away? It’s ridiculous to think Claridium is struggling against a few Dopplers.”

“They say Damian died while trying to help them escape!”

As such students murmured, professors summoned to an emergency meeting began to enter the main building one by one.

The area around the main faculty building was guarded by security and teaching assistants, blocking students from entering.

“Everyone, return to the dorms!”

“Please let us know about Hailey! Please!”

“We can’t give you any definite answers. Step back!”

Cecile rushed to the faculty building, wearing pajamas and a coat hastily thrown over. Her hair was damp with sweat from the urgency.

Clutching a thick stack of papers, she craned her neck to look at the main building through the crowd of students.

“Cecile?”

Marta called out to Cecile in a puzzled tone upon seeing her. But there was no response.

“Cecile, Cecile!”

Only when she approached from behind and grabbed her shoulder did Cecile turn to look at her friend.

“Cecile, what are you doing here….”

“…Marta.”

“Are you okay?”

Cecile’s face was streaked with tears.

“No, not at all.”

“Is it because of Damian?”

At the mention of Damian, Cecile wiped her tears away with her forearm, as if unwilling to answer, and turned her body back, fixing her gaze on the main building.

Marta couldn’t bring herself to speak again.

There were many rumors swirling about the art club and Claridium, but none of the rumors related to Damian were good.

They said Damian was left behind, that he was dead, that the art club abandoned him and fled; all that could be heard around them were such grim tales.

“Professor Candinella!”

Cecile spotted Candinella as she was about to enter the main building and shouted loudly.

But the sheer number of people quickly drowned her voice.

Cecile hurriedly tried to push through the crowd but tripped and fell hard to the ground.

The papers she had been holding in her arms spilled everywhere. Her clothes were dirty, and blood flowed from her knees, yet she was too busy picking up the papers. Even as people jostled her and stepped on her hands, she was desperate.

Marta, unable to stand by any longer, rushed over to help her. It was unfamiliar to Marta, an old friend, to see Cecile, who was so proud and unyielding, in such a state of desperation. As she handed the papers back to Cecile, Cecile accepted them without a word of thanks and pushed through the assistants to approach Candinella.

“Professor, Professor!”

Cecile tightly grasped Candinella’s wrist. Candinella looked at Cecile with wide eyes, seemingly startled.

“……?”

“Damien, is Damien okay? Where is Damien right now? You know, don’t you?”

“We are also trying hard to understand the situation. You should return to the dormitory. Your presence here is only causing more trouble.”

“Please, please save my friend Damien. Find a way to save him, no matter what. Please, please. You are a war hero, aren’t you? Can’t you do something with magic, with magic?”

Candinella, unable to shake off her concern, spoke with a softened expression.

“The physical distance is too great. The power of magic is great, but it is not omnipotent.”

“If that’s the case… then… then…”

“We will do everything we can. There are many ways to track down the Dopplers. The imperial troops stationed near Claridium will soon be dispatched to assist… Damien will be okay.”

Tears welled up in Cecile’s eyes again. She looked like someone who was suffering deeply, consumed by thoughts of her husband being dragged into war.

“No. I don’t think it will end that easily. You know that too, Professor. The situation is more serious than that. You understand what it means that the most technologically advanced Claridium has fallen to this state. Damien could lose everything.”

Cecile’s words seemed to strike a chord, and Candinella’s expression hardened slightly.

“This. This is the information I found. It will surely help.”

Candinella stared blankly at the documents Cecile offered. The arm holding the stack of papers trembled slightly. With her resolve wavering, Candinella took the documents and reassured her once more.

“I will refer to this information carefully. Now, you should go back. Don’t pay too much attention to the rumors.”

Cecile was caught by the assistants who had arrived late. Candinella watched with concern as Cecile was led away.

Marta followed after Cecile, catching up to her. When she found Cecile again through the crowd, she was sitting on the street, covering her face and crying.

“Cecile….”

Marta approached Cecile, grasping her shoulder to support her.

The Cecile Marta knew was a fierce woman who would somehow survive on her own, even if the world crumbled around her. She never imagined that she could be brought down like this by just one man.

*

Damien’s sword cleaved through the upper body of a Doppler.

This was the twenty-first, but the number of Dopplers surrounding him showed no sign of decreasing.

With each fight, Damien’s body was nearing its limits. Blood mixed with rainwater flowed freely from his clothes, which were torn and tattered by the blade.

And the Dopplers were becoming increasingly fierce and difficult to contend with.

As they cornered Damien, the Dopplers sneered at him.

As the next opponent stepped forward, Damian threw down his wooden sword.

The attack aimed at the opening pierced through the opponent’s shoulder and lodged into the wall before they could even prepare.

“Kyah! Kyah!”

Caught off guard, the Doppler was pinned against the wall, writhing in pain, but no one came to help.

Damian simply waited at a distance, not rushing to finish it.

Soon after, he took an action that the Dopplers had never seen before.

He knelt on one knee, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

None of the Dopplers understood Damian’s actions. They couldn’t even guess what it meant. It wasn’t as if he had chosen death; there was still vitality in him, yet it was too calm to be seen as a desperate struggle.

The Doppler, whose shoulder had been pierced, managed to free himself and charged at Damian.

With a fierce momentum, he quickly closed the distance, but Damian remained completely still.

Even as the frenzied Doppler’s blade rushed toward him, he didn’t even open his eyes.

In a razor-thin moment, Damian twisted his body to evade. Then, seizing the sword discarded by a nearby corpse, he swiftly plunged it into his opponent’s neck.

“Cough, krah, kuwak.”

Damian pierced through the neck and drove it into the ground. Like an insect pinned by a tweezers, the Doppler thrashed about.

The next Doppler, wielding a sword, charged in. Mimicking Damian’s previous movement, he thrust his blade toward Damian’s neck. But Damian severed the opponent’s arm. Before the severed arm, still holding the sword, could even hit the ground, he plunged it into the opponent’s neck.

“Kwack, kuwak!”

And without hesitation, he drove the sword into the ground. Two of them writhed in pain, groaning.

The next Doppler met the same fate, unable to even strike once before being pierced through the neck and pinned to the ground.

The following Doppler, keeping his distance, attempted to meditate like Damian. Such a clumsy imitation was bound to fail. He died with his brow pierced by the sword thrown by Damian.

Among the Dopplers, unrest began to spread slowly. It was because Damian’s swordsmanship rendered their imitations utterly ineffective. The evolution of swordsmanship was happening on Damian’s side.

Damian, having immobilized the Doppler who had attacked him in agony, immediately returned to his meditation.

With each fight, the number of Dopplers thrashing on the ground only increased.

Eventually, now two or three at a time, they began to attack Damian.

And realizing that even that was futile, the Dopplers all charged in unison.

*

After the meeting, Calios stood with his arms crossed in the main hall of the faculty building, where the view of Eternia was clear.

Calios’s assistant, Delphion, waited silently behind him. After hearing news of Clarity and Damian, Calios fell into deep thought. In a situation where time was of the essence, his hesitation was making him anxious.

“Calios.”

“Speak.”

“Do you intend to lend your strength to Clarity? If you give the order, I will look for the fastest shipping option.”

“Even if I leave right now, it would be too late.”

“Well then….”

“Forget it. My leaving won’t change the outcome.”

Kallios despises unnecessary emotional expenditure. He is quick to calculate even in matters of emotion, preferring a highly economical approach. If the outcome cannot be changed, he no longer invests his mental energy in it.

Perhaps he had already calculated the matter of Demian.

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“Do you really think Demian can handle the Doppler cluster? No matter how exceptional his talent, he lacks experience and hasn’t been under your tutelage for long, has he?”

Kallios stroked his beard with one hand.

“You seem to worry about that boy more than I do.”

“You’ve taken quite a liking to him, Kallios. That’s why I’ve been keeping an eye on him as well.”

Kallios let out a breath, as if in disbelief.

“If you were truly paying attention, you would know which side is facing disaster.”

Delphion blinked, unable to grasp the meaning of his words.

“What do you mean by that…?”

“That boy is worse than the Dopplers.”

“…What?”

Kallios shook his head slowly and fixed his gaze out the window.

“We would be of more use remaining in Eternia.”

*

The area in front of the house of the prophet, who met his death, was filled with Dopplers, all with their necks pierced. Some had perished writhing in agony, while the rest were stuck to the ground, neither dead nor alive, flailing about.

Utilizing the human techniques he had acquired over a long period, Demian launched a full-scale assault, yet no one could bring him down.

After finishing the fight against dozens of Dopplers, Demian retrieved the wooden sword lodged in the wall. Though victorious in battle, he was in no condition to claim he was unscathed.

Without even brushing aside his drenched, limp hair, he staggered toward a certain direction.

He came to a halt right in front of the rogue Doppler that had been mocking him with applause.

That Doppler, aside from having its arms and legs severed, was in relatively good condition. It had been deliberately left alive, just enough to avoid death.

“Kiak! Kiaaak!”

As Demian approached, the Doppler screamed in terror. Having witnessed Demian tear through its kind, it had no choice but to be gripped by fear.

Demian grabbed the Doppler by the collar and lifted it up. Then, for the first time facing the creature, he spoke.

“Tell your leader that I will hunt you down one by one and tear you apart without mercy.”

“Kiak! Kiak!”

The Doppler, caught by the collar, couldn’t meet Demian’s gaze and twisted its body in every direction.

Despite having slaughtered so many Dopplers, Demian’s gaze was still filled with an unresolved fury.

“I haven’t come to hell. I am your hell.”