The environment was gloomy.

In some areas it was cold and in others it was hot, yet there was humidity everywhere and a variety of smells.

On a brick ceiling, there were dim blue or red lights.

Lying like a beggar next to a dirty puddle, leaning against a cold, gray wall, was a man wearing the remains of a tunic and hood.

The man in question was barefoot, his feet were dirty, his legs looked thin and were only covered above the knee with torn black pants.

The man's hands had no fingernails.

Cough!

Blood!

Drops of blood flew into the air when the man coughed.

Ha ha ha ha, you are a stupid and weak person.

Silence. There was no response.

Did you really think you were going to rule here? There are demons and humans here. They were all turned into prisoners by the members of your organization. Ha ha ha. All against one. You only lasted a day, but a day is more than those who fight against much less than you faced can withstand.

Silence.

Cough!

Blood!

-You haven't eaten in weeks and weeks, you're just surviving on your magical energy. Your disgusting weapon was taken away. Because you still don't want to make a deal. Ha ha ha. You think I'll give in.

Silence. There were still no answers.

A rat passed by the man, sniffed, and left. The rats were waiting for the feast that would come when the man died.

In different parts of that place, there were some skeletons whose bones had rat bites on them. He would not be the first feast, nor would he be the last.

•••

At night.

A sky with a beautiful full moon and a few scattered clouds.

A man was drinking tea, sitting atop a tower in the Gothic castle.

"My lord, here is a dessert you will enjoy," said a beautiful maid with a formal expression.

The maid wore an elegant black and white uniform.

With his beautiful, manly, white hands, he took an exquisite-looking sweet.

"It's delicious, it goes very well with tea," said Lenard Trismegisto.

He was wearing an elegant and sumptuous black robe with elegant silver patterns.

"My lord, someone has entered the castle grounds," said the maid.

"Anastasia, you may leave, it is an acquaintance."

"As you wish, my lord." The maid bowed and left.

"Is it okay to have that thing here?" said a man with an elderly voice.

"Samsart, why have you come?" asked Lenard in his captivating voice, using a calm tone, but Samsart felt his heart tremble with fear.

Lenard gestured, and shadows emerged from the darkness, taking the shape of an elegant chair in front of the table where the tea and sweets Lenard had tasted were placed.

"I apologize, founding leader, it is not my place to impose my ideals on you," Samsart replied respectfully as he sat down.

"You are my disciple, Samsart. You are important, which is why I correct you. Do not let your passions cloud your judgment. It is fine for others to hate demons as we have indoctrinated them, but you, Samsart, do not fall into the same trap. You must see them as enemies to be defeated, as worthy adversaries, or you will regret it," Lenard said as he looked out the tower window.

Silence stretched on for a few seconds, and Lenard took a sip of tea.

"I apologize again, master."

Lenard Trismegistus nodded.

"I came to inform you that we are monitoring all potential heroes. There are some with good qualities. Do you think we should support them directly, founding leader?"

-It is not necessary. Over time, history has shown us that blessings are not always bestowed upon virtuous men or demons. It is more a matter of chance or fate. Let us just wait. We have waited so long, it would be irrational to lose now because of a fit of impatience.

-As you command, founding leader. I will take care of informing the rest of the founders.

Shortly after, the maid Anastasia brought a golden cup in which she served tea to Samsart.

Samsart drank the tea so as not to disrespect his master and left a few minutes later.

Lenard remained silent for the rest of the night, observing the night landscape, as if he could see beyond what his eyes allowed him to see.

••••

A few months later.

Meleic and Mart were looking at the notes on a bulletin board.

"Wow, it's surprising to be in tenth place," Mart muttered.

"What did you think Class S was?" said Meleic as he began to walk away from the bulletin board.

"Apparently, there are students who go unnoticed in the S class. I'll keep an eye on their names from now on; maybe I can recruit some of them. I need people to work for me in the future," thought Mart as he followed Meleic.

As they walked toward the cafeteria, they saw Moraf sitting happily chatting with a beautiful young demon with black hair and red eyes, who had similar red demonic marks on each side of her cheeks.

"Mereida Sebidarial," Meleic said thoughtfully.

"Do you know her?" Mart asked curiously, yet concerned about what might happen to the enemy of the protagonist he was trying to turn into a protagonist.

...

"Yes, they say she's a prodigious sorceress, but even though it was a long time ago, no one forgets that the Sebidarial lineage is related to the Asferyiac lineage and the blood demons. That's why everyone treats them with respect, but at the same time keeps their distance." Meleic replied, then looked away toward the cafeteria and added, "Let's wish our friend in love the best."

Mart nodded as he thought, "That sounds like the ideal description you would give of the girlfriend of an antagonist or the protagonist of a tragedy. I hope I'm wrong."

...

Mart, Meleic, and Moraf had become friends who seemed almost like brothers when seen walking together around the academy because they got along so well.

"No wonder he seemed so distracted lately," said Mart as he waited in line and thought about what food to order.

"If Nirian hasn't mentioned it, that's probably why he was distracted. He's pretty close to his sister, so maybe he kept it from her," added Meleic.

Meleic called Nirian by his first name because he had known him for a long time.

The two ordered their food, changed the subject, and talked about the mid-year break.

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