Broken Possessors of Infinite Regression Academy

Hello everyone, It’s VarieTL. Thanks to the support of kizu_hana, Skoll, Hodor, Deov, c, Excali and Rook in my Ko-Fi there will be 2 extra chapter today. Thank You for your support!

Rachel lay sprawled on the ground, staring blankly at the sky. The round, blood-red moon hanging in the sky made it intensely crimson. The sky, too, was as red as blood under the moonlight. A fleeting thought crossed her mind: “So, this is what the sky in the Demon Realm looks like.”

“What brought you here? Was it arrogance? Overconfidence? Honor? Duty?”

A murmur without a hint of emotion reached Rachel’s ears. Her head turned with difficulty. The once rugged surroundings were now clearly visible all the way to the horizon, and the entire area was filled with bottomless pits and valleys.

All of this was the aftermath of Rachel’s battle with the Demon King.

“Weak human.”

“Ugh, damn…!”

The Demon King stepped firmly on Rachel’s right arm. She gritted her teeth to stifle a scream, but the Demon King didn’t just step on it; she applied even more pressure.

—Snap.

“Aaaah!”

With the sound of bones breaking, her fingers were crushed. A scream finally escaped Rachel’s lips. Her nails shattered, her skin tore, and blood and flesh seeped out from the wounds, the sensation of her bones being pulverized was far from pleasant.

“Meaningless.”

“Ugh…”

Next, the bones in her palm were crushed.

“Weak.”

“Aaah!”

Her wrist bones shattered. The crushed flesh spread out to either side of the Demon King’s shoe.

“A worthless creature.”

“Aaaaah!”

The Demon King continued to crush Rachel’s already shattered right arm, leaving it unrecognizable. From fingertips to wrist, her right arm was meticulously pulverized.

The pain was excruciating beyond measure. Rachel screamed continuously. When her upper arm was about half crushed, she managed to gather her senses and opened her mouth. “Just… if you want to kill me, kill me……!”

“Do you not know your place?”

“Ugh, aaaaah…!”

The Demon King completely ignored Rachel’s plea to be killed. Her leather boots continued to methodically crush her right arm, and only after the shoulder was flattened under her foot did she finally step back. Her right arm was a complete mess. The bones were utterly unrecognizable, as if they had been pressed in a vice, and the skin and flesh were crushed flat against the ground.

Rachel turned her head, unable to bear looking at the mangled limb any longer. Groans filled with fear and pain continuously escaped her lips.

“Haaa… haaa…”

“You dared think your life was worth enough for me to personally end it, despite not even grazing my cloak? Your life is worth less than a single swing of my arm.”

She was right. Rachel’s body was covered in soot and wounds from head to toe, aside from her right arm which had been thoroughly crushed, while the Demon King’s white coat remained unblemished by even a speck of soot.

The Demon King was overwhelmingly strong. Rachel wished she could go back and knock some sense into her past self, who had believed she could win against anyone after surpassing her limits. She was an existence beyond measure, something humans couldn’t possibly challenge. Realizing this, Rachel let out a hollow laugh.

How could the war against the demons have lasted hundreds of years? Why hadn’t humanity gone extinct already?

If this being had intervened directly, humanity would have been completely exterminated long ago.

“I can see the fear in your eyes. You’re wondering why you’re still alive, aren’t you?”

It was as if she could read her mind, accurately piercing through her thoughts.

“The reason is that compared to my power, you humans are utterly insignificant.”

“……”

“I do not desire a world of ruins. Nor do I want a world with only demons. I wish to keep humans as slaves for generations, so that they forever remain the livestock of the demons.”

Though the declaration was made calmly, it also demonstrated her absolute confidence.

The Demon King’s voice, filled with irresistible power, resonated clearly, eliciting roars of near-maniacal enthusiasm from her army stretching endlessly beyond the horizon.

Rachel suddenly felt an urge to cover her ears. Compared to the seemingly infinite waves of the Demon King’s army, the human forces felt pathetically weak.

“There will be no future for the powerless. All demons will be tested, and only those who prove their valour and strength will enjoy the flesh, blood, and bones of humans.”

Another cheer erupted. Every demon, save the undead, shouted to show off their strength, making the world tremble.

There was no reason not to cheer. For the demons, who valued strength and power above all, this was a fitting proclamation.

“That is why I send them instead of myself. So that our weaklings fall to your swords and spears, ensuring that your world does not crumble meaninglessly under my power.”

“……”

“That is also why I am letting you live.”

“……”

“You will live to instill hope in humans. Let them worship you as a false idol, praising and venerating you, believing they can win against us. The longer you live, the more radiant their false hope will become.”

Rachel’s face turned pale as she understood the Demon King’s intentions. Despite her declaration to keep the Sword Saint alive to bolster human morale, the demon army only grew more excited, pounding their chests. Increased human morale meant fiercer battles, exactly what they desired.

“Second Legion Commander.”

“Yes… my Demon King…”

An Elder Lich, who had been riding a chariot pulled by four Bone Dragons, appeared before the Demon King as soon as he was called. The dried, withered corpse knelt and bowed its head.

“Kill one-tenth of your legion here. A million undead will soon become this one’s achievement.”

“I obey…”

The Elder Lich complied without the slightest hesitation at the order to kill one-tenth of his own legion. With a gesture, the undead legion began tearing each other apart, killing their comrades. Watching the formation of a mountain of corpses, Rachel trembled, consumed by fear and helplessness. The Demon King looked down at her, expressionless.

“Are you trembling?”

“……”

“Or are you afraid?”

“……”

“Smile, for this is a joyous day for you. The legend of you facing and defeating a million undead will be born today.”

“……”

“From now on, all humans will cling to you. Soldiers on the front lines will chant your name like a spell, and every child will fall asleep dreaming of becoming you as they hear tales of your legend. Your mere appearance will bring cheers from thousands of troops, and tens of thousands of humans will be certain of victory. If this is not a joyous day, then what is it?”

“……You.”

Rachel, trembling and listening to the Demon King’s words, finally spoke with difficulty. The scent of blood filled her nostrils, and a metallic taste lingered in her mouth.

“What… are you?”

“Are you asking about me?”

The Demon King moved her lips a few times as if attempting to form words, then frowned slightly as if finding it impossible, before quickly returning to her usual expressionless face.

“My name is Elysier.”

His pink eyes glowed.

“I am the Demon King.”

.

.

.

‘…Damn, she really is ridiculously strong.’

I took a moment to catch my breath, using eternity as a prop. Watching her fight, it was hard to believe this was someone with a trauma associated with swords.

Out of the three of us, I was the only one still standing. Brynhild had been knocked out flat by a tap on the forehead with a tea spoon, and Aria was panting on the ground, out of stamina. I was merely a bit winded.

Given that there were onlookers, I hadn’t fought with my full strength from the beginning. I only exerted enough effort to match the top position in Bellium Academy.

“How could you have gotten weaker, Brynhild? Have you been slacking off because you made new friends?”

The Sword Saint stood in her spot, casually twirling the tea spoon. She hadn’t moved an inch from where she had started the sparring session. It was becoming clear why people didn’t question her abilities, despite her having sealed her right arm and true sword for over a decade.

Who would doubt someone who could fend off the combined attacks of Bellium Academy’s top three first-year prospects with nothing but a tea spoon the size of his pinky finger? Doubting that would be madness.

‘How strong is the Demon King, anyway?’

The question about the Demon King’s strength deepened in my mind.

If someone of this caliber, fighting at their peak with a true sword, was still overwhelmingly defeated to the point of trauma, then the Demon King must be extraordinarily powerful.

‘…And Brynhild is supposed to become even stronger than the Sword Saint in the future.’

After all, the Demon King was eventually defeated by the Hero. I glanced at Brynhild. She was just now getting up, rubbing her forehead where she had been struck. The Sword Saint smiled and kissed the spot where she had been hit. It looked like a normal situation, but having been told this was a yuri romance novel, it felt oddly peculiar.

“I understand now why Jake said there was nothing more he could teach you. Especially you, Aria.”

“Hah… ha… yes, yes…”

“The move you used at the end, that was mine, wasn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

Aria shrank back, expecting the Sword Saint to be angry, but the opposite happened. She ruffled her hair with pride.

“Impressive. How did you manage to replicate a technique you saw just once, even if it was rough? Most people wouldn’t even realize what hit them. Truly impressive.”

“Y-you flatter me.”

“Flatter you? Not at all. The three of you are a delight to teach. Brynhild, where did you find such excellent friends? Is it because you’re the Hero?”

After praising the three of us enthusiastically for a while, the Sword Saint suddenly looked at Priscilla, who was sitting nearby. Priscilla flinched.

“Your name… was it Priscilla?”

“…Yes.”

“I understand you care for your boyfriend, but you shouldn’t glare at me like you want to kill me every time I attack him. You’ll be seeing this scene often, and if you keep reacting that way, your mind won’t be able to handle it.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Priscilla bowed her head deeply. Since hearing that the Sword Saint was invited as a special instructor, Priscilla had been on edge. It was a stark contrast to before. Previously, she had been eager to disrupt the original plot, but recently, she seemed more averse to deviations from what she knew. I wasn’t sure what had caused this change, but something had definitely shifted.

“And you, her boyfriend?”

“…”

The Sword Saint approached me with a playful smile, which gradually faded as she got closer. When she was right in front of me, her face showed a hint of unease as she whispered.

“About that technique you used… ugh.”

But before she could finish, she winced and bent slightly at the waist. Her full sleeve concealed the movement, but she was discreetly massaging her right arm. It was the phantom pain she experienced whenever her trauma flared up.