I Became the Youngest Disciple of the Martial God

A black sphere. Its presence was on another level.

The massive blood-lit moon that had loomed over us had been overwhelming too, but the pressure now was even greater—and far more haunting—as it stared at me in utter silence.

It had an almost transcendent presence, and yet, it was no larger than a human head.

It made me wonder, Had that enormous blood-lit moon not been armor like I thought?

Maybe it had been a seal all along.

“...”

Was it really just my imagination?

Cold sweat dripped from my back.

The sound of my own ragged breath echoed in my ear, perfectly in sync with my pounding heartbeat, but I wasn’t sure if it was really the sound of my own breathing or just my mind playing tricks.

My fingers twitched.

Should I attack first?

If I waited for the demon lord to attack, I might not be fast enough to react. But at the same time, making the first move felt just as likely to get me killed.

How was it going to attack?

Even when it was just a moon, its methods had been bizarre.

It shattered its own body just to use the fragments as projectiles. It whipped out tongues despite being a fucking moon. In the end, it even threw itself down as if it was trying to destroy its own body.

Now, with its true state revealed, it was simply closing the distance.

Ooooong.

A low hum buzzed in my ears, like a swarm of bees. It felt like I was imagining it all from concentrating too hard, causing my body to malfunction.

I was too out of it to tell for sure, but one thing was clear: The black sphere was getting closer every second.

...?

Something was weird. It was definitely coming closer.

Every sense in my body confirmed the sphere’s approach. Every sense except my vision.

Because despite the sphere getting closer, its size wasn’t changing. It was definitely coming closer, though, so why?

I stared blankly at the sphere, and just like that, it crashed into me.

Slam.

I couldn’t resist the impact. I coughed up both spit and blood at the same time.

Then, belatedly, came the rush of pain. Was this what it would feel like if I fell off a cliff?

It felt like my entire body had shattered.

The only reason I didn’t collapse was because even my body had registered the attack late.

My limbs wobbled and shook, my head spun, but I forced myself to look behind me.

The sphere had already passed through me.

What just...?

Losing sight of its movement for a brief moment was one thing. The fact that it had passed through me without leaving a hole was another.

The biggest mystery, however, was how a sphere of that size could hit my entire body all at once.

Basically, the impact felt like I’d been hit by a massive iron ball.

Could this impossible phenomenon be related to the sense of distortion I just experienced?

The principle of motion within stillness? No, that alone can’t explain it.

Slam.

Just before the second hit came, I used every ounce of energy in my body to form protective bodily ki.

It was a mess, like armor patched together from metal scraps, but it was still better than nothing.

“Cough...!”

My body was already a mess, so the pain felt similar, but the impact was weaker this time.

Even so, the compounding damage was enough to bring me to my knees.

“...”

As I coughed up blood, I thought, Have I felt this helpless since my initial regression? Even when I had faced the other two demon lords, it hadn’t felt this bad.

BANG...!

This time, the impact came from above, and my spine felt like it was going to snap.

I was thankful that I was already on my knees. If I had been standing, the impact would have shattered my kneecaps, and if my bodily ki had been any weaker, I would have been flattened like a fish stepped on by an elephant.

I clenched my teeth as hard as I could and resisted with everything I had.

Then, I heard a voice.

[Re... gress.]

“...”

The voice sounded like a little girl’s, and I wondered if that was because of Deathberry. Regardless, it felt uncomfortably close to my ear.

A smile began to creep back onto my face.

How persistent...

It still hadn’t given up.

At this point, I almost found it amusing. If only my opponent weren’t a demon lord.

“...You want me?”

[...]

For a second, I felt the pressure ease just slightly. It seemed to actually be listening to me.

“Over my dead fucking body.”

I wanted to spit bloodied saliva at it for effect, but sadly, I couldn’t.

[...!]

Though I couldn’t physically see its reaction with its face gone, I could tell this bastard was pissed again.

The sphere sped toward me once more, and I braced for the next impact.

Or at least, I tried to.

Fwoooooooosh!

Suddenly, from a distance away, an overwhelming amount of mana erupted, and the demon lord shifted its focus away from me for a moment.

That small distraction alone made it easier for me to breathe.

Its attention was now locked on the source of the sudden mana surge. There, a short distance away, in the ruins of a collapsed building, divine energy was permeating in waves.

It was like a dam had burst after trying to hold back an immense mass of water.

The mana exploded outward, its surging currents distorting the air like lingering afterimages.

“...”

This was the second time I’d gotten to witness grand magic, and the one casting it was the same person as before.

But this time, it was on a completely different level.

Whooooosh...

The strands of bluish mana deepened in color as they spread across the sky like the roots of a thousand-year-old tree.

The glowing violet roots carried a mystique greater than the Milky Way stretching across the night sky.

Magic. It was a mysterious study, and for a moment, I understood why some dedicated their entire lives to it.

Anyone who witnessed such a sight when they were young and impressionable would be captivated.

At least for this moment, the red glow that had tainted the world disappeared.

Soon, the hundreds of roots that stretched across the sky bent downward...

...and like a violet tidal wave, they came crashing down on the black sphere.

* * *

Alderson Maveur had first learned of Kartell Academy long, long ago.

“...You want me to be a professor?”

When he was a young man.

He was forty at the time, but his face and character said otherwise. With a face lacking any wrinkles, Alderson looked up with defiance at the man he called older brother.

His brother only grinned. “That’s right, Al.”

“Why should I?”

“I told you, the joy of teaching is—”

“The greatest joy one can have?” Alderson scoffed. “We both know that’s not true. What you actually want to say is something like... Even a teacher and a student can become family... right?”

His brother’s smile faltered.

Alderson saw it, but he didn’t stop. “Face it already. Our parents are gone.”

“...”

“There’s no need to carry the dead in your heart. That’s what graves are for. It’s time you start living your own life. Stop wasting time playing teacher.”

“Al.”

But Alderson ignored him and walked away, leaving his older brother behind.

With that, he locked himself away in the Magic Tower. It was practically self-imposed seclusion.

At the time, he had been obsessed with a new field of study. A study that would shake the entire magic community—puppetry.

Upon entering, he would not leave the tower built with stone until he accomplished his goal.

It was an obsession bordering on madness, really, no different from the closed-door training of martial artists who had reached a higher state of mastery.

He lost track of how many seasons passed.

Then, one day, lost in his research, he suddenly realized that he had finally reached the goal he had been striving for.

“I did it...! I’ve finally done it! Ahahahaha!”

When he created what he’d been striving to create most, which was the most intricate puppet he could create, he burst out from the tower, laughing like a madman.

Disheveled, body covered in dust and sweat, he went to find his brother.

He did not find his brother, only three graves.

“...He died two years ago. He had been sick for a while. We only found out when he collapsed.”

“He worried about you until the very end, you know? Told us not to tell you about his illness or his death.”

“...Did he say anything... before he left?” Alderson asked as he stared blankly at the grave.

A friend of his brother’s answered, “ ‘Don’t bother Al. Let him focus.’ ”

“...”

Al had been his brother’s nickname for him since they were kids.

Now there was no one alive to say it. No one left to remember it.

“...What’re those behind you?”

“...Puppets.”

Behind him stood two puppets that looked identical to their parents...

But the person he’d wanted to show them to was gone.

Silently, Alderson murmured to himself, “Who was really the one hung up on the dead?”

* * *

He spent four days standing in front of the grave, just staring, before he collapsed from exhaustion.

The moment he came to, Alderson headed straight for The Empire’s most brutal battlefield, a land of war and savagery.

The frontier.

The southern reaches of the empire.

The lawless land where groups clashed over power and resources, where vicious monsters roamed, and where imperial influence barely reached, making it the perfect haven for cultists.

Alderson spent three years there as a war mage. Most of that time was a blur to him.

What remained crystal clear, though, was the number of people he had killed.

He threw himself into battle as if searching for a place to die.

Around the time he earned the shitty title, “Death of the Battlefield,” a person from the imperial court came looking for him, a young noble with bright red hair flowing down to his waist.

“Alderson Maveur?”

“What do you want?”

“I’ve heard rumors that hundreds of cultists have died by your hands and that you crushed a high priest in a single fight.”

A sharp gaze swept over Alderson, and he couldn’t help but shudder.

This was the gaze of someone absolute. Eyes like red corundum seemed to pierce through his very being.

The noble’s lips curled into a smirk. “Not bad. Looks like this wasn’t a waste of my time. A talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted as mere battlefield fodder for lowly mercenaries."

“Who the hell are you...?”

That commanding presence. That crimson hair.

And the imperial insignia on the letter he was holding in one hand.

Alderson immediately recognized him as royalty.

Which wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t entirely right either.

“People call me Red.”

“The Archmage of Crimson...!”

The greatest of the Archmages of Seven Colors, master of the red flame, the empire’s strongest—an immortal.

A man who had too many titles to count.

Alderson had never been one to be intimidated before authority, but right now, his heart was pounding in his chest.

Red spoke, “There’s a vacancy among the Seven Colors. I have been looking for a successor, and you seem like a decent candidate. Of course, you won’t be promoted immediately.”

“I...”

“I know. That look, I see deep grief within your eyes. Are you drowning in inner turmoil? Although pointless it may be, you humans always need growing pains in your life,” Red rambled indifferently before handing Alderson a letter. “Read it. It’s a letter from your brother.”

“...What?”

But without answering, the most exalted mage in The Empire disappeared.

Left alone, Alderson stared blankly at the letter. It took him a long time to open it.

There was nothing special about the letter. It was just the nagging, worries, and parting words an older brother might leave behind...

I hope you’re happy. Live a long life.

“...”

At some point, the sun had set.

As he continued to stare at the single piece of paper, he suddenly realized there was something else inside.

“This...”

It was a photograph. As soon as he saw it, he laughed.

It was the first time he had laughed since his brother’s death.

He had thought his brother had died a lonely death.

He had thought that his hopeless older brother had failed to do his part and had suffered alone, dying painfully on his sickbed.

Alderson now knew he hadn’t.

Countless people had been by his older brother’s side. His disciples.

“...They’re better than his own flesh-and-blood brother.”

Seeing the people who were smiling, Alderson couldn’t help but smile bitterly.

The following year, Alderson Maveur became a professor at Kartell Academy.

* * * * *

* * * * *

He’d admit it. Teaching others wasn’t easy.

In fact, he was starting to think that the talent for teaching was the complete opposite of ordinary talent. Making the less capable understand required endless patience.

“Prof, your class is so boring,” said a cadet with an unusually bright personality. Though from a commoner background, she had good grades and was well liked. Judging by where she sat and how others looked at her, it seemed like she was the social butterfly of this class.

The only flaw was that she was a bit too noisy, to the point that she stuck around even after class to chatter with the least popular professor at the academy.

Alderson responded indifferently, “Why does education need to be fun?”

“If it’s not fun, it’s not interesting, and without interest, you won’t want to learn!”

“That is because your intelligence is lacking. My lessons are prepared to perfection. If you had the passion and dignity, you would learn from them just fine.”

“Ugh.”

“What’s that?”

“You sound like such an old man...”

“...Such is the nature of valuable knowledge. Only those qualified to have it have the right to grasp it.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Ah, there you go again... Then why don’t you throw in some jokes during class? That will lighten the mood for sure! And who knows, that might grab the cadets’ attention.”

“...I shall think about it.”

This cadet was the only one who showed any interest in Alderson anyway, so he decided to humbly accept her advice.

The next day.

“The sun has been setting early these days...” Alderson cleared his throat and ended the class with a closing statement. “...You all should hurry back to your doom-itory before the light is gone.”

“...”

Silence.

“...”

More silence.

Alderson didn’t show up to class for a week.

On the eighth day, finally overcoming his embarrassment, Adlerson went to find the cadet who had given him that damned advice.

“Pft... Hahaha!” The girl laughed loudly, as if she had just heard the great joke.

“Because of you... my reputation, my authority here...”

“Psh, it’s fine! You know, when someone is just too unfunny, that’s what makes them funny, you know? You were perfect—”

“I’ve heard enough. I should not have listened to advice from someone with low intelligence.”

“Look at you go again. After you did that, you got such good reactions from the other kids.” The girl smiled brightly, showing her pearly teeth. “Now the other cadets won’t find you as intimidating!”

Indeed, that was exactly what happened.

From that day on, although they were a bit hesitant and shy at first, cadets began to ask Alderson questions.

And Alderson listened attentively. When he realized what the cadets didn’t understand, he started to understand how to better approach teaching.

For the first time, Alderson Maveur understood how to see things from a student's perspective.

His sharp mind was quick to grasp the core principles of teaching, and before long, Alderson’s class became the most popular subject at the academy.

So, naturally, the students began to warm up to Alderson.

“Whoa, Professor, you like puppets?”

“Yes.”

“Wow...”

“That’s unexpected.”

“My late mother collected quite a few of them. I guess I was influenced by that.”

“I’m sorry.”

Naturally, Alderson’s personality and speech also began to change. Most people took in this new Alderson positively.

Then, one day, the Archmage of Crimson came to visit him again.

“Your grief seems to be gone, Alderson.”

This mysterious mage, almost like a supreme being, looked no different from the last time Alderson had seen him. His face, not a single wrinkle in sight, was still youthful.

It was as if time had decided it didn’t want to apply to him alone.

“I have an imperial letter.”

“I am listening.”

“First, I will bestow upon you the rank of Archmage. From today, you shall bear a second name—the seventh color that streaks across the sky, the last of the seven colors, the violet that signifies both the beginning and the end.”

“I humbly accept.”

Then Alderson paused before asking, “By ‘first,’ you mean...?”

“Yes. There is a second one,” the crimson-haired nobleman said with a smile.

“Alderson Maveur, they wish to appoint you as the Seventh Headmaster of Kartell Academy.”

“What...”

“I heard the professors and even the previous headmaster unanimously agreed. Such overwhelming support is unprecedented. I guess after twenty years reforming the academy, it is to be expected.”

“...”

Twenty years. It had already been twenty years.

Alderson touched his face as he realized how much time had passed.

He felt the roughness of his skin and beard. The life of that young mage had come to an end.

But he was content with that because he remembered his brother’s wish for him to live a long, happy life.

“...I will,” Alderson said, looking at Red. “I will take on the role of the seventh headmaster of this academy.”

* * *

With the change in perspective, the world seemed to change too.

The young mage, heartbroken by the loss of his family, now considered everyone in sight to be family.

And so nearly a hundred years passed meaningfully.

Brother, you were right.

It had been a fulfilling life.

So much so that if given the chance to do it all over, he would walk the same path without hesitation.

Alderson looked around him.

His eyes took in the Academy, tainted with blood and darkness.

...All of this is my fault.

For being tied up like an idiot and letting the ki pathways across his body be damaged.

He had created this situation and caused this crisis.

He couldn’t even unleash grand magic properly and had to rely on young heroes for help...

It’s all because of my own inadequacy.

As the headmaster of this academy, it was his duty to protect all cadets as the one who carried on the will of the revered Platinum King.

But of course, he couldn’t protect them forever.

He knew that these young, lovely children would one day be sent out into the real world.

They would inevitably face harsh winds, for the empire was going through an unprecedented era of turmoil.

So at the very least...

He needed to give them a place of safety and peace, at least until they graduated.

Someday, later in the future, when the storm called life wore them down, when they got so tired of the never-ending swamps of suffering, when they just felt like giving up and collapsing on the spot...

He wanted the memories they’d made together to be their comfort.

That, above all else, was the duty of an educator at this academy.

A duty that had to be upheld.

And a duty worth staking my life on.

Blood rushed and was spilled.

Gush.

The strain of casting grand magic with a broken body tore through him like a lightning strike. His vision blurred red, but he paid it no mind.

CRAACK!

Intangible energy erupted from the black sphere, pushing back against his magic.

The world, once bathed in violet, was once again swallowed by blood red.

...So this is a demon lord.

The pressure was unbearable.

Alderson’s grip on the staff tightened even as his aged body felt like it could crumble at any moment.

If he let this opportunity slip, he would die.

It was at this moment that he saw her.

The princess, crying in the distance.

Maybe it was her guilt over what was happening. In front of her lay the lady from House Goodspring, unconscious and pinned beneath rubble.

“Sellen, Sellen...” Ferith was desperately trying to move the rubble to free Sellen.

Perhaps the demon lord found that sight annoying, because...

Craaaaack!

A shard, sharp as an icicle, shot out from the black sphere.

Deathberry, the doll once cradled in the princess’s arms, had long since forgotten its former owner.

Ferith’s eyes widened in shock.

Slash!

Blood sprayed into the air.

Ferith looked up with trembling eyes. “Wh-why...”

“...”

Alderson couldn’t answer.

The shard had pierced straight through his stomach.

The flow of mana circulating through his body was cut off for an instant, and his carefully prepared grand magic was almost undone.

But even in this situation...

“...It's all right.”

“...!”

He tried to give her a smile.

He wanted to reach out to pat her head, but he couldn’t move.

All he could do was force out his voice, gurgling with blood while putting on a brave face.

“H-Headmaster...” Tears welled up in Ferith’s eyes. “Th-this is all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

How could it be her fault?

Alderson let out a strained, bittersweet smile.

If ignorance was a sin, then the greatest sinner was the teacher who failed to guide their students.

He should have led her down the right path. He should have helped her develop the character to discern right from wrong.

And so, Ferith was not to be blamed.

“...Anyone can make mistakes. That is why academies exist, to ensure that the mistakes we once made are not repeated by the next generation.”

Alderson still cherished every cadet and considered them family.

Princess Ferith was no exception.

“No one will hurt you.” Smiling, Alderson looked to the demon lord again.

Blue flames, like will-of-the-wisps, flickered in his eyes.

Thump, thump, thump...

His heart raced violently, a sign of impending overload. His body was warning him to stop using magic immediately. If he didn’t, he would die.

He did not listen.

“...There comes a price to pay,” he murmured.

Immediately afterward...

“Hear me, Hadenaihar!”

Alderson's shout rang loud like a thunderclap.

The violet vines that had briefly receded surged forward once more.

“Your malice and deceit will never taint this Academy! This is a sanctuary of learning! The future of the empire! A tree of knowledge, and...”

And... what else?

This place—

To him, Kartell Academy was...

I know...

A smile stretched across Alderson's face.

“...my home.”

Drip. Drip...

Even as his veins tore apart and pain ripped through his body, he smiled.

“This is not a place for a wretched demon like you to defile...!”

KEKEKEKEKE!

Grotesque laughter echoed.

It was the sound of cracks forming in the black sphere, but it sounded like a scream.

“I am the Archmage of Violet—!”

The mage’s roar echoed through the battlefield, and his magic, as if in response, gathered for one final burst of power.

[...!]

The violet roots coiled around the sphere. They wrapped around and around, consuming it, until...

CRACK!

It shattered.

The demon lord’s body—the ruler of evil, the black sphere—

The manifestation of malice that had invaded the academy was finally destroyed.

* * *

A storm of mana swept across the land.

It was the final trace of an Archmage.

Alderson’s grand magic had completely destroyed the dark sphere, relentlessly erasing even the scattered black shards.

The vast violet roots stretching across the sky now resembled cracks across a glass window.

And those cracks became the beginning of this world’s collapse.

Crack...

For a brief moment, everyone on the Veiled Side looked up toward the sky.

They all witnessed it at the same time.

Shatter!

The blood-colored sky crumbled. This was the end of the sinister Veiled Side, the world of malice that had imprisoned hundreds of cadets.

“Ah...”

There was a reason behind the headmaster’s stubbornness, which many cadets had once mocked.

The headmaster had stubbornly insisted on making the Violet Hall the highest-ranking dormitory instead of the Crimson Hall. Headmaster Alderson had placed violet, the last color of the seven, above even the crimson that symbolized the imperial family.

Some professors and students had quietly dismissed it as the stubbornness of an old man, the pride of the lowest-ranking Archmage.

But in this moment, those watching this scene realized and understood.

Crimson burned through the sky like fire, but bluish-violet was the color the sun painted the sky from its place at the horizon.

This was the harbinger of change.

CRACK!

The last shard of the blood-lit darkness was consumed by the radiant glow of violet.

The world, once steeped in dread, was bathed in a warm, scarlet light.

And so came the dawn.