Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 40: Other Demon Spawn

The crimson cloth draped over the cage trembled as something inside shifted, sending a reverberating thud through the platform.

The sound was deep and unnatural—like stone being dragged against bone, like a heartbeat laced with metal.

Though the creature remained unseen, its presence alone was suffocating.

A wave of pressure spread outward, crashing into the audience like a tide of invisible dread.

The magic flares flickered, and even the sunlight above the open-air stadium dimmed slightly, as if the skies themselves hesitated.

The crowd fell into a breathless hush.

Veteran teachers subconsciously reached for their weapons, even though they knew they were safe.

Seasoned knights among the audience stiffened.

Civilians clutched their seats. Infants cried in distant arms, and mana in the atmosphere itself swirled restlessly.

Even those who had never felt the weight of raw demonic energy before could now sense it—alien, ancient, and hungry.

It wasn’t just a beast.

It wasn’t just magic.

It was wrong.

Whatever resided in that cage was not meant to exist in this realm.

Nolan blinked as the weight fell upon him, like a blanket soaked in blood and guilt. His knees locked, refusing to budge. His stomach churned.

Even with his Internet-powered cheat and otherworldly awareness, he knew instinctively—

That thing... is harmful.

And then—

"Nolan!"

Lirazel’s scream exploded inside his head like a javelin piercing through glass. She floated beside him, eyes wide, wings trembling, her face flushed in something between panic and rage. She was trying to keep her composure, but it cracked.

"You have to kill that thing!" she cried, her voice quivering in his mind alone. "It’s one of them! One of those things my sisters and I were sent to destroy!"

"Shut up!" Nolan hissed, eyes darting around to make sure no one saw him talking to nothing. His voice was barely a whisper, but Lirazel heard him clearly.

"You don’t understand!" she howled, floating right into his face. "That thing—it’s a spawn! A spawn from another Demon God! One our Mother was against! We were sent here to stop them from infecting this realm so we could own this realm! Nolan! Master! This our mission!"

"Stop calling me master!" Nolan sneered.

She gripped his shoulders with ghostly claws. "It’s starting already... they’re arriving... and this thing? This spawn? It’s targeting you."

Nolan’s eyes twitched.

"Me?"

"Yes!" she screamed, her face wild with desperation. "You made a pact, remember? Your soul—his soul—was bound to my Mother! You were chosen as my vessel, my shield, my breeder—"

"Stop calling it that," Nolan grumbled.

"—and most of all, the one who would help eradicate the rival demon lineage. You think they don’t know who you are? You think they can’t smell it on you? They know. And now they’re moving."

Nolan fell silent.

A tremor passed through the stadium again as the creature growled—or breathed, he couldn’t even tell. The runes around the cage pulsed violently.

Lirazel leaned closer, whispering now, but no less intense.

"We were never supposed to start like this. That thing’s starting point is higher than mine. It’s had time. And now it’s here."

Nolan stared at the cage. For a moment, he considered her words—remembering hazy flashes of that pact he never actually made, but inherited.

Yes, the original Nolan—the real one of this world—had sworn a soul-bound oath to serve the Succubus Queen, Lirazel’s mother.

He’d agreed to assist her bloodline in exterminating the opposing demon spawns that had infiltrated the mortal plane and offer this plane to her. And in return, he would gain power, privilege, and avoid damnation.

But that pact had conditions.

Conditions that died with the original Nolan.

And Nolan, the real one now, was from Earth. And in the fine print of that demonic contract, he clearly remembered a clause: if the pact-holder dies, the pact is broken.

The only lingering condition?

A favor.

A gesture of goodwill. He wasn’t bound to fight for them anymore. He just had to "assist" her if convenient.

"Relax," Nolan said under his breath, wiping sweat from his brow. "I’m not bound anymore. You know the terms."

"But—"

"I’ll help. If it’s convenient. That’s it."

Lirazel floated back, her expression twisted in furious disbelief. "Convenient?! You’ll die! We’ll die! You think by idlimg to the side would make you safe against them? No! You are still their target because killing you was the only way to kill me!"

Nolan was stunned, "it’s her only weakness!? By killing me!" Now, Nolan is more completing the system mission to get stronger!

Lirazel would add, "No one would save you from this thing when it comes crawling after you in the middle of the night, whispering your name in broken tongues—"

Nolan ignored her, turning back toward the students that aren’t here yet. His thoughts snapped back to a more immediate problem:

His mission.

Room 33.

Not one of them arrived yet!

The other classes were already in the ending ceremony. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

If his students failed to come in this test, the System would count it as a failure. Which meant no System rewards. Which meant—no Internet for a year.

Unacceptable.

Truly unacceptable!

...

Meanwhile, the spotlight returned to the center of the stadium, where Professor Langren Voss stood tall upon an elevated platform. He raised his hands, silencing the growing whispers and stifled fears from the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, noble guests, proud parents, and rising stars of the Silver Blade Academy...!"

His voice thundered through the enchanted artifact, echoed by magical reverberation across every stone wall and column.

"We are gathered today to celebrate excellence! Their performance was truly excellent! They are indeed true warriors! They are like prepared champions not only for our lands but for our very world! For every threat from within and beyond!"

The crowd roared in response. Flags were waved, cheers ignited, and spellfire spiraled into the air once again.

"These students standing before you—those who rose from common households, who trained in secret gardens, who dreamed beneath castle roofs and dusty ceilings alike—they are our future! Our last shield! Our first line!"

Applause swelled into a tsunami of sound.

Langren continued, "Yet this year... our test changes. The world is changing. Something dark has begun to stir beneath our feet. And we must adapt. Grow stronger. Sharpen our blades not just with pride... but with purpose."

He turned toward the cage. The cloth rippled.

"A few months ago, an unnatural Dungeon, we didn’t know where it was yet, but they ruptured in the southern plains. What emerged... was a group of something like this."

The crowd leaned forward. Hushed gasps, collective shivers.

Langren’s voice grew somber. "These creatures—we don’t understand them. They don’t behave like monsters. They don’t die like demons. They move as if they were built for something worse. And now... they’ve spread. They’re in neighboring villages. Forests. And even some parts of our own Silver Blade City."

He let the silence hang for a moment.

"The Baron of Black Vale himself has decreed: these creatures are to be eradicated. But we cannot yet destroy them all. Not fully. the numbers of these creatures far exceeded the numbers of our Knights. And so..."

He swept his hand toward the cage.

"...we begin here."

The crowd didn’t erupt this time. Instead, a ripple of unease spread across the stadium. What had started as a celebration now felt like the opening act to war.

Langren’s voice softened. "The test is simple. You do not need to kill it. You do not need to fight it. You need only to stand in its presence. To look into its eyes, and prove that you have the will to become a Knight of the Silver Blade Academy."

He turned back to the students.

"Those who pass... will be granted full student status. You will receive housing, meals, and training. You will be paid for your service, and you will be supported by the Baron’s reach."

Cheers burst forth from the crowd again—especially among the civilians, who now saw hope for their children and brothers and cousins. The idea of security. Purpose. Support from one of the largest territories.

Silver Blade City would thrive.

Langren raised his arm once more, and the arena trembled with magic.

"Now..." he bellowed.

"To the first class...!"

He pointed toward the eastern gate of the arena.

"Step forward!"