Chapter 19: Chapter 18 : The First day

I can do this. I'm going to be useful to Mom. I'll learn whatever I need to, and then… then I’ll find a way out of this realm. I’ll get to my sister. No matter how hard it is, I will do this. I have to.

That’s what I told myself.

That’s what I wanted to believe.

But then he walked in.

The instructor.

He wasn’t tall. He wasn’t loud. But the moment he stepped into the room, it was like someone had sucked all the heat out of the air and left us breathing ice.

And then… he spoke.

I don’t care who your parents are, I don’t care what blood runs through your veins, I don’t care if you’re the offspring of a Demon Lord or the forgotten child of a dirt farmer, because in here you are nothing, in here you are clay and I am the flame that will decide whether you harden into a blade or crumble into ash, and don’t think for a second that the name you carry outside this room will spare you from the pain inside it, you will sweat, you will scream, and you will break, and only when you are nothing will I begin the work of making you into something, because the truth is this: I don’t want your pride, I want your obedience, I don’t want your excuses, I want your limits, and I will crush those limits one by one until you have nothing left to hide behind, and when you beg for rest I will give you more drills, when you cry for mercy I will give you silence, because pain is the only language the world speaks fluently and I am its translator, and if you are not ready to listen you will be dismissed not with words but with scars, and when you crawl out of this place, if you crawl out at all, you will not be who you were, you will be something forged, brutalized, sharpened, and useful, because no matter what you were before, in my hands you are a blade, and I will decide whether you are worth wielding or worth throwing into the pit with the rest of the trash.”

He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to.

He just spoke, and with every word, my skin felt tighter. Like my body wanted to flee, but I had forgotten how to run.

Then came the final stab.

“Tomorrow, you all start your actual training.

Until then… try not to cry too much.”

...

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I didn’t cry, BUT I wanted to...

I looked at the floor.

And I thought—

Is it too late to go home...?

I A V A I

The cafeteria looked more like a royal banquet hall than anything meant for feeding people in bulk.

Everything sparkled.

Marble floor tiles gleamed so hard I could see my reflection looking stressed. The long tables had gilded trim and intricate carvings of winged beasts—some looked noble, others like they’d crawl out of nightmares. Even the ceiling had crystal chandeliers, and the curtains were velvet so thick they could probably stop a sword.

I glanced toward the buffet section at the back.

If just the chairs cost more than our old house, what kind of food did they serve here?

Did demon nobles eat mana-cured phoenix meat with dragon-blood glaze or something?

How expensive would it be to just… accidentally touch a fork? Would I get fined? Jailed? Publicly executed via angry butlers?

My imagination spiraled for a moment—until I heard a loud whisper echo off the marble.

"Zera! I swear, if I find out that’s actually how humans treat demons—I'm going to start sleeping with salt under my pillow!"

I froze and peeked around the pillar. Two girls were on their knees across the hall, scrubbing furiously with cloths—well, one was scrubbing. The other was mostly flailing in dramatic offense.

She had long golden hair tied into a fancy braid that was already coming undone. Somehow, she still looked like she belonged on a stage, not on the floor.

Her partner beside her had dark black hair, fox ears twitching in annoyance, and a long fluffy tail tipped with brown that swished dangerously close to knocking over a bucket.

“That’s not even how curses work, Veneta,” the fox girl—Zera—muttered, clearly fed up.

“Oh, so you’re the expert now? Because I grew up surrounded by vampire folklore, thank you very much—”

“I grew up in a den of criminals,” Zera snapped. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen a real demon curse someone? Hint: It wasn’t over baby teeth.”

My brain barely had time to catch up before Veneta turned, spotted me watching, and lit up like I’d walked in holding a torch.

“You!” she pointed with dramatic flair. “You’re from the human realm, right?!”

I nearly dropped my cloth. “Y-yeah?”

“Do human babies really hang garlic necklaces and try to banish shadow-demons by throwing pacifiers into bonfires?!”

“…What?”

Zera groaned again, this time louder. “Veneta.”

I just stared.

“Wait, wait—don’t answer yet!” Veneta scrambled across the floor on her knees and got close way too fast. “Have you ever heard of the legend of the soul-sapping tooth demons? They steal your breath when you sleep and replace your dreams with taxes.”

“… That’s just growing up,” I muttered.

Zera snorted.

Veneta blinked. “…Oh god. You poor thing.”

I didn’t know whether to feel insulted or comforted.

All I knew was that this wasn’t the kind of horror I’d prepared for today—but it was probably better than another speech from the combat instructor.

These two were weird for sure, but... I guess cleaning the floor with two weirdoes is much better than dying through hard training, right ?