At that moment of utter bewilderment.

“Ah… The coat the professor gave me is ruined.”

Before his eyes appeared a boy, leaping up with a sword in hand.

“How are you going to take responsibility for this?”

“Wait, how did you break the bind—Gurk!”

The Demon Lord, mid-question, felt something searing hot wrap around his body. Chain marks etched themselves across every inch of his skin, and he couldn’t move a muscle.

For a fleeting moment, the Demon Lord couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened to him.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it struck him—

‘The side effect of the Binding curse!’

When the cursed one forcibly breaks the binding, the pain rebounds onto the caster.

Just as Maria had suffered when Chris broke the binding.

It was the most fundamental principle of curses. But the Demon Lord had never needed to consider it before. Not a single person had ever escaped his curse.

But Michael was different. This madman had torn off the chains without so much as flinching at his own body becoming a bloody mess.

And from inside the Demon Lord’s stomach, no less—using flesh-melting stomach acid as lubricant.

‘Was he aiming for this from the very start? Did he let himself get caught on purpose…?’

It was incomprehensible. Utterly unreasonable. The pain he must have endured in the process had to transcend human limits.

“What in the world are you thinking, you bastard…?”

“It’s nothing complicated. The professor accomplished it easily enough, so I just figured her disciple should be able to do the same.”

Michael drove the sword into the Demon Lord’s eye. The Demon Lord’s scream shook the very space around them.

“See? It worked.”

A smile flickered across Michael’s lips. What followed was nothing short of a one-sided bombardment.

Left leg, right leg, side, back, chest, right shoulder, and—

“Ugh, ughhh…”

Finally, the left shoulder.

The Demon Lord hadn’t noticed amid the endless agony, but this was the exact reverse order of how the Demon Lord had driven thorns into Chris’s body.

Michael had watched every single moment of Chris’s suffering at the Demon Lord’s hands, missing nothing.

To return it all.

‘…I-I need to get out of here.’

The Demon Lord’s survival instinct reared its head. He had been careless this time. Failing to secure Chris’s cooperation had left him overly agitated, and that was largely to blame.

He would regroup and return. And next time, he would slaughter every last one of these wretches.

“Hehehe…”

“…!”

The Demon Lord’s fading eyes began to glow a fierce crimson. His entire body was riddled with wounds, and the chains made his movements sluggish—but the Demon Lord was still the Demon Lord.

Geugeuk—his limbs stirred with a grinding sound almost like the earth itself shifting. Dragging his massive frame, the monster lumbered toward a blank space.

It was well known that the Demon Lord could travel by cutting through space.

But in truth, it was not an omnipotent ability. It only worked in “blank spaces”—specific locations where the gods’ Gaze did not properly reach.

Fortunately, the Academy abounded with dungeons and hidden places, which meant such blank spaces were plentiful as well.

In other words, he could escape at any time.

“How humiliating… Me, the Demon Lord, running away. Hehehe, I will definitely repay this. Next time we meet, I won’t hold back…”

He muttered darkly, then opened his massive jaws and bit into space itself. As if a hole had been torn wide open, a black void yawned before him.

Beyond it lay the Demon Lord’s castle. Michael knew this as well.

He had seen it before.

But Michael wouldn’t be able to follow. Chris’s breathing had grown noticeably fainter.

Any further delay and her life would be in danger. Michael surely knew this.

“And that’s exactly why you’ll never amount to anything. Watching your enemy escape right before your eyes, yet letting go because of a single human. Foolish. That is precisely why you will never defeat me…”

So the traitor Chris had done one thing right. She had rendered him this useless.

The Demon Lord sneered to his heart’s content and thrust his head into the void. Now, when he opened his eyes again, his beloved throne would be waiting…

Right at that moment.

Swish.

The space closed.

His body hadn’t made it through yet. Naturally, only his head was severed, tumbling into the Demon Lord’s castle.

He thought he had plunged his head through the escape route, but instead he had placed his neck on a guillotine.

This had never happened before. A mistake? Impossible! Someone had deliberately closed the space early.

That someone was…

“Don’t tell me… don’t tell me even this ability was his…?!”

The one person who had inherited the Demon Lord’s blood. The one who had inherited his flame.

And now had reached the point of wielding even his own father’s abilities.

“Michael, you son of a biiitch! I’ll kill you! Aaaaaargh!”

The head, sitting alone on the throne, screamed. But it reached no one.

The Demon Lord’s castle had stood empty for a long time, emptied by the war.

The head could only cry out alone until its last breath faded.

Meanwhile.

Michael watched the colossal body, now missing its head, crash to the ground with a thunderous thud.

“Phew. The heart’s still here, so… if it regenerates, the head will probably grow back from this side.”

The Demon Lord wouldn’t die from just this. The Holy Emperor had beheaded the Demon Lord in the previous war, and hadn’t he resurrected after ten years?

Even if they couldn’t kill him completely, they at least needed a seal to prevent his resurrection.

But that was a job for the adults.

What was urgent right now was something else entirely.

“Professor…!”

Michael ran to Chris’s side, nearly stumbling over himself.

He felt like he would burst into tears at any moment. No—they were already streaming down from both eyes.

When the Demon Lord had bitten and slashed him, when he had torn the chains from his own flesh—it had all been fine.

But this moment was agony. It hurt more than any wound. The body he held so carefully was so terribly cold, and he didn’t know what to do.

“…The flames disappeared! Is the fight over?”

“I think we can get closer now, right?”

“Michael! Are you okay?”

Only then did his friends’ voices reach him. The X-Class students came running toward him, their faces more urgent than anyone else’s.

Michael looked at them through tear-blurred vision and muttered.

“Professor… Professor isn’t breathing well. She’s so cold. What do I do? What do I…”

“Oh my god…! You’re in critical condition too! Bell!”

“First, someone get Michael away from the professor. Lay him down…”

Bell’s urgent voice rang out. Someone grabbed Michael and pulled him away from Chris.

Michael struggled, desperate not to let go of her, then realized his hands were no longer moving.

“Damn it, he’s losing consciousness! All mages who can cast healing magic, get over here right now! We have to save both of them!”

“Are there any priests who can assist? Get here right now before we lose them! If the professor and Michael die, I won’t let anyone off!”

The rumble of a crowd rushing in, the sound of incantations being chanted, the sensation of his body gradually growing warmer…

“It’s okay, Michael. It’s okay, so just close your eyes and rest. The professor is strong, you know.”

Someone whispered at the fading edge of his consciousness.

Right. Chris was a strong person.

The strongest teacher in all the world, no matter what anyone said. So she wouldn’t just leave like this.

Michael felt reassured and closed his eyes.

* * *

[Quest Complete! You have obtained ‘Healing Bandages’ as a reward.]

[Main Quest: Request of the Earth God 5-15]

[This is the final quest.

You know what you need to do, right?

Good luck.]

Waking up to a system window like this really killed the mood.

‘Well, I guess I somehow survived. The final quest has popped up, after all.’

As expected of the Protagonist. I knew I could count on him.

Ngh—as I carefully tried to sit up, a gasp-inducing pain lanced through my entire body.

‘Ugh… Crazy. This really freaking hurts. I feel like I’m dying.’

But a Roleplay Addict can’t just groan carelessly. I glanced around and, after confirming I was alone in the room, finally let out a sigh.

“Phew, I can’t keep doing this much longer.”

Judging from the magic stones and doodle-like drawings surrounding me, I seemed to be at the center of a large recovery magic circle.

In modern terms, it was like receiving intensive care in a private ICU.

‘What was it again? They said this type of magic circle is rarely used because interfering with it mid-activation can cause serious problems.’

Knowledge from <Our Child’s First Magic Encyclopedia>.

But the effect was immediate and undeniable.

In other words, my condition had been critical enough to warrant activating this circle despite the risks.

[Bead: Yeah. You literally came back from the dead, you know that?!]

“Bead.”

I’d been wondering why it hadn’t popped out. Even the nagging was welcome now.

[Bead: You sound so carefree! Sheesh, I tried to stay as quiet as possible because I thought I’d be in the way! But do you have any idea how anxious I was the whole time watching?!]

I know, I know. It was a reckless move I wouldn’t have even attempted without at least one of two things—the talisman protecting my heart, or the Healer.