Dignitas pushed himself to stand upright, using Dainsleif as a crutch. His lower body was refusing to follow his order to move, effectively rendering him limp.
Swing! He weakly slashed the air, uttering "Affinity Wave," sacrificing his way of standing for a measly scratch to appear on the ogre's left arm.
The ogre's response was simply to smirk, somehow enjoying its prey struggle to stay alive. By now, its absurd regeneration skill, a trait all orcs, oni, trolls, pyglins, and ogres enjoyed, had kicked in, and the wound Dignitas had inflicted on its head had now disappeared. The only signs of it ever happening being the dried up blood.
"You've gotta be kidding me…"
The moment Dignitas entered the demon-infested Lockheart, he had resolved himself to lose an arm or two, like he always did whenever he planned to fight.
But the thought of losing had never actually entered his mind. He simply believed every situation would resolve itself if he was there.
And unlike every single hardship he had experienced since coming here, the feeling of adrenaline wasn't showing itself. No, fear was all that he felt.
"R-right! The Log… it's gotta have something that can help."
Dignitas materialized the Log in front of his hands, spazmically flipping through its pages in order to look for a way to rewrite the current scene.
At the same time, more cracks in space rapidly began to shift into reality. Like a single cell, each crack began further multiplying, springing ogres into existence.
In less than half a minute, the already-crowded room had turned even more cramped from the ogres' sudden appearance. Five more reddish behemoths stood at the other end of the room.
"Anything, anything! At least a slight mention of my current state, or even the ogre's appearance…"
It was like the world had fallen on him. There was not even a single word written in the Log's pages that told of what was happening. Fate had handed the author the worst deck and yet challenged him to win an impossible game.
The first ogre repeatedly banged its stomach with its fist, perhaps to taunt its injured prey or as a display of superiority. Crying loudly, it made sure the author knew who was in control of the situation.
"This… world… must adhere to my bidding."
"Funny. The last time I saw you, you weren't this pathetic."
Shing! An X-shaped sign left its mark on the ogre just as blood spurted out. In front of his eyes, Dignitas noted another crack in space suddenly burst into reality.
From there, a tall, robed figure appeared out of thin air. A moment later, two daggers, bathed in the darkness of the night, returned to his grasp.
A robe… Dignitas instantly recognized that attire, alongside the weapons he wielded. Even that condescending voice was still the same.
"Did a few months do nothing but lessen your skill?"
The sole person Dignitas had failed to recruit due to how he silently he moved. Even his own classmates could not detect his presence, their only source of information that he was ever there the class record.
This was Alicer Roskii, the person who had dueled against the author and won by a landslide.
"Count your lucky stars I happened to notice the Lockheart disturbance."
***
Going back half an hour prior…
Alicer Roskii was currently trudging through the Academy District with no real goal in mind. His unique skill– Shadow Cloak, hid his presence from most detection skills, and allowed him to hide in the shadows undetected.
His mana pool had always been abnormally large, much so that he initially doubted his origin as a human. The same went for his senses. Thanks to these though, he was able to remain hidden from the public eye, aside from the professors. He was powerful, but not that powerful.
By some stroke of luck, Alicer's stroll had taken him to the alleyway where Bigsby's shop was located. He had recently noted the shop owner's increase in activity— particularly when he noticed him dragging a student's body inside.
It made him curious. Was the shop owner an undead? Did he prey upon the unaware in a place where there were no eyes? So having particularly nothing better to do, he planned to sneakily enter to investigate.
"It's not like the higher-ups have given me a mission."
Perching on top of a roof like a bird, Alicer watched as Bigsby entered the store, leading three students inside. One of the students caught his eye; particularly a certain Dignitas Qwerdan.
"That's the guy I fought in the entrance exam. Did he get tempted by the shop owner too?"
Alicer's fight against Dignitas was different from the other battles he fought in. It wasn't because his opponent was particularly strong (although he did admit that he managed to make him nervous), but because he has never seen someone who would quite literally put their life on the line in order to pass an exam.
What was merely a slight interest had suddenly sparked into something bigger the moment Alicer saw him. Preparing himself, he snuck into the store just before the door shut.
He followed the group into the backroom, using the same tactic to enter without any sound.
Once inside, Alicer marveled at the sheer number of Skill Cards. He hadn't taken the time to inspect the shop due to running on a clock, but it only hit him once he saw the archive-like base behind the counter.
The sight of so many Skill Cards had momentarily taken his attention away from his original mission that, before he even realized, the environment around him changed out of nowhere.
The neutral scent of Mana was replaced with the foul, corrupting stench of Devil Ashra, an energy that Alicer had found himself to have the pleasure of being acquainted with thanks to his job.
In fact, that was the entire reason his branch had sent him here— to watch over the Hero Academy and pinpoint any signs of demonic activity. He didn't think that his work would increase by so much in just the first few months.
"It's a Lockheart." Alicer shook his head in disbelief. "But it's been infected by a demon. I need to inform the higher-ups."
The robed asssassin pulled out a particularly antique-looking flip phone. Pressing the keypad multiple times, he dialed the only number he had saved.
"It's Alicer." He brought the phone to head level. "...yes, it's another case of demon activity. This time, it's a Lockheart. What do you mean, fix it? I'm not an Exorcist."
He sighed. "You're doubling my pay after this, okay? Fine, I'll use the Purge Arts."
Alicer had just been assigned a new mission by his branch. It was to aid the people who decided to exorcise the demon-infected Lockheart, and make sure a Reverse Break wouldn't happen.
Break was the more common term used for when Mentalists attempted to enter a person's Lockheart and brought it into reality. A Reverse Break, on the other hand– was used to refer to when the Lockheart went berserk and began morphing into an actual Mana Domain, only more dangerous due to it not having an owner.
Alicer might've not looked like the type to care about many things, especially since he never bothered to use even a substantial portion of his strength in the entrance exam, but he was a person who enjoyed having money. Much so that it was the only reason as to why he joined the Nightowl branch of the Midanian Order.
It was perfect for someone like him who preferred to stay in the sidelines while receiving "participation rewards" in return.
"Three people I need to look for. The guy I fought, the supposed strongest first year, and the sheltered daughter of the strongest guild. Perfect."
With an annoyed look on his face, Alicer stared at the demonic castle that stood in the distance. The dusty shelves of the shop was no longer there, now replaced by a barren, open area.
The sky was blood red, a common color that symbolized demons. It was easy to note the not-so-subtle absence of clouds due to the constant ringing of thunder in the distance.
"Whatever. It's all for the money."