The moment I lost consciousness, a memory flashed through my mind. It was vivid—almost as if I had lived it myself—yet I knew it wasn't mine.
In the memory, I sat upon a throne in what looked like a royal chamber. A man knelt before me, head bowed. The silence was suffocating. The air was cold, carrying the delicate scent of flowers from the black rose sealed within the bottle I held.
"My lord, the humans are attacking. If we don't stop them, they'll reach the castle," the man said, his voice eerily calm as his forehead touched the floor.
I stared at the black rose in the glass. For some reason, my chest tightened at the sight of it.
'Is this war really necessary?' That thought echoed within me before I spoke aloud, my voice resounding with dignity and weight.
"Summon the generals. The time has come…"
With that final command, the memory dissolved into darkness.
***
I woke up in bed, back in my room. The dragon lay curled beside me, sleeping peacefully. My head still throbbed dully. That memory was anything but ordinary—and it definitely didn't belong to me.
Was it connected to these headaches?
No. That could wait. My first priority was finding a way out of this place.
Let's organize my thoughts.
I ended up here because I stepped into that summoning circle meant for Lucivar Velmorian—the demon I killed. Now I'd been mistaken for him and forced to pose as a teacher at some demon academy.
That was the extent of what I knew. My lack of information could very well spell my doom.
While I was lost in thought, a knock broke the silence, followed by a voice.
"Sir, it's me—the servant from yesterday. I'm entering—"
'Yesterday? So I've been out for an entire day? Wait, that's not important. He's about to come in and Luna is still—'
Panic jolted me upright. The dragon was in plain sight—I couldn't let my cover be blown so soon. I rushed to the door just as it opened, positioning myself to block his view inside. Thankfully, my absurd height came in handy. He looked up, startled.
"Sir, are you feeling alright? I've been knocking for a while but you didn't answer."
I forced a light chuckle. "Ah, I'm a heavy sleeper—one of my most hated flaws. My apologies if I worried you."
His eyes widened for a heartbeat before he stammered, "N-No, not at all! I was simply concerned something had happened to you…"
"Oh no, I'm fine. But thank you nonetheless. I'm still not quite ready—could you give me a few minutes?"
He bowed slightly. "Yes, sir. I'll wait downstairs."
Once he turned away, I closed the door and exhaled sharply. Acting like a noble was exhausting—but thanks to my time as Jack the Ripper, my acting was at least passable. Still, something gnawed at me.
That surprised look… as if I'd done something unexpected. But what?
It hit me then: if I truly wanted to act as Lucivar Velmorian, I needed to understand who he actually was. So far, I'd based this persona on a fleeting glimpse—my assumptions could be way off. For now, I'd watch how people reacted to my portrayal.
I need to be careful, I reminded myself, glancing at Luna. She slept just as peacefully as when I'd nearly killed her. The mirror beside the bed tempted me—I wanted to check if it would display my status immediately—but the servant was waiting.
I slipped out the door, locking it behind me, and made my way downstairs.
Below my room was what resembled a cafeteria—though calling it that felt wrong given its sheer size. Familiar faces sat scattered about: the teachers who had been at the entrance ceremony.
Despite there being only a few demons clad in black armor—the hall was absurdly large. The servant began to explain.
"This is the dining hall for low ranking guards. I apologize for the modest room you were given—unfortunately, it was the only vacant one. A new room will be arranged for you by next week."
I responded warmly, "I understand. No need to apologize."
As I spoke, I sensed a few cold stares aimed my way—most notably from a woman with round glasses who sat reading a book during breakfast, which felt oddly out of place.
Ignoring it, I followed the servant as he gave me a tour of the academy.
Helsguard Academy had about 200 students, all of whom would graduate after completing just one year—hence the representative's 'senior' joke.
The academy offered six main fields of study:
Elemental Magic, taught by Lucivar Velmorian—me.
Dark Magic, taught by Azaroth Nightless.
Holy Magic Resistance, taught by Orphiel Stormblood.
Weapons Handling, taught by Illiath Vortein.
History, taught by Selene Lightmare.
Skill Utilization, taught by Lilith Slitherus.
The first floor held standard classrooms; a grand staircase split the floor and led to the second floor, which housed the student cafeteria, study areas, and practice spaces. The third floor consisted entirely of libraries—five of them, each with a unique collection.
The fourth floor was reserved for the teachers' quarters and facilities, while the fifth floor belonged solely to the headmaster.
Apparently, the headmaster hadn't descended from the fifth floor since founding the academy five centuries ago. No one knew their age, gender, or appearance—only that they were immensely powerful. [Soulstess] confirmed it: their magical energy core was at least triple my own. Facing them would mean instant defeat.
But that didn't concern me now. What interested me most was the library floor.
I needed to learn everything—about magic, this academy, these headaches… and above all, the true nature of Origin Skills and why I reincarnated in this world.
So, I spent the entire week devouring every book I could get my hands on. Occasionally, I returned to my room and spoke with Luna. She'd bombarded me with questions at first—why I'd passed out, what happened—but once satisfied, she'd only muttered:
"Humans truly have weak bodies. You have my pity, Jack."
Strangely enough, she'd started calling me by name. Whether it was because we'd grown closer or because we were stuck in this mess together, I didn't know.
And so, my days passed—until classes officially began and I was required to give my first lecture on Elemental Magic.