My Overpowered Demon System

"Okay, that is enough. You can form the barrier now," Ymir said with a sigh.

The students hesitated, their eyes flickering between Ymir and their palms.

"What?" Ymir asked. "Do you want me to do it for you?"

They all shook their heads before the question could finish leaving her mouth.

In their minds, if Ymir did it for them, the pain was going to be significantly worse than whatever they would experience doing it themselves.

And they were right.

As if controlled by the same thought, they all exhaled together, then began guiding the essence along the same path Ymir had shown them.

Like gas, the essence began to drift upward through their noses.

But that came with its own backlash.

The students began to choke as their breathing was cut off by the rising essence.

It did not last long.

The essence entered fully, clearing their airways and allowing oxygen to flow again.

It had already left everyone’s palms entirely. But once inside the body, it no longer seemed to need their direction.

As though it had developed a mind of its own, the essence moved toward their brains, wrapping around them like a thick vine.

Unlike Ymir’s, which had moved in a single rotating path, this was a complete wrapping from every direction at once.

And with it came an unbearable amount of pain.

The heavy sound of bodies hitting the floor echoed through the space.

Ymir did not bat an eye.

Azrael was barely standing, his teeth grinding together.

After what felt like the longest minute of his life, the pain began to recede.

A higher level of mental clarity washed over him as he looked around.

It was as though his mind had been cleared of hundreds of useless thoughts at once.

But he could not fully appreciate it yet.

His chest rose and fell like something was pounding against it from the inside.

"Two have completed the task," Ymir said, raising two fingers.

Weakly, Azrael turned his head to the side.

It was not Malaric.

He was still enduring.

Another thought crept up. If it was not Malaric, then the second person was somewhere among those on the floor.

Weakly, he scanned each student.

That was when he saw Valdren, his head unmarked, just like Azrael’s, unlike the others who still bore thick lines around theirs.

"Both of you can leave," Ymir said.

She did not wait for a response. In a flicker of red light, they were gone.

Azrael was back in the reception.

He slumped into the nearest chair without bothering to stand properly.

"Why does this class always end this way?" Azrael muttered, his voice muffled against the chair.

Valdren nodded at him from the other chair.

"She always behaves like a psychopath, unlike Yvonne," he said.

Azrael nodded back.

Neither of them moved, choosing to simply sit in the quiet comfort of the chairs for a while.

"You cannot stay here any longer," the receptionist’s voice jolted both of them awake.

Azrael’s eyes snapped open, heart hammering against his chest.

"What was that?" He muttered.

"You need to leave now," the receptionist said.

Beside him, Valdren was also just waking.

Azrael shook his head to clear the last of the drowsiness, stood up, signed out, and walked out of the building.

"I still have things to do," Azrael groaned as he stepped outside.

The maids of the other students stood waiting for their respective masters.

A coin expanded beneath Azrael’s feet, carrying him upward before shooting off toward the horizon.

Valdren stepped out a moment later.

His maid reached his side within a heartbeat, offering her arm.

"Thank you," he said, leaning against her shoulder.

The maid nodded.

"How was your class today, Lord Valdren?" She asked.

"Rough. I do not want to talk about it," Valdren replied.

The maid nodded without pressing further.

Slowly, they covered the long distance between the academy and the residential area on foot.

The maid guided him gently through the entrance that led to his family’s branch castle.

Compared to the Malvorin clan’s main castle, it was modest, but regal in its own right.

A few maids were stationed around the grounds.

"You are back," a voice came from an open room.

Cold. Distant.

"Yes," Valdren replied with a bow.

Beads of sweat began forming along his brow as he looked at the person inside.

A broad chested man with long crimson hair and sharp crimson eyes stood there. He was shirtless, which only put on full display the thousands of scars etched across his muscles.

"Why are you being carried?" He asked, stepping forward until he stood directly in front of Valdren.

Valdren was about to answer when the man’s hand rose.

Without warning or mercy, he struck the maid by the arm.

The force behind it sent her crashing into one of the room’s pillars.

The sound of something cracking echoed through the space, followed by a muffled sound from the maid that was buried almost immediately beneath Valdren’s.

"Leah," Valdren yelled, tears falling from his eyes as he stared at her crumpled form.

"You are too weak. How can someone like you be the child of this Grand Marshal?" The man asked, not expecting an answer.

"You want to take after that useless mother of yours, do you?"

Valdren said nothing.

Tears fell slowly, wetting the floor beneath him.

"Just remember. If you fail to secure a seat in the Nexus Convergence, you are as good as dead," the man said with a cold snicker, then slammed the door in Valdren’s face.

For a moment, Valdren did not move.

The only sound in the corridor was the quiet drip of tears hitting the floor.

Then an arm wrapped around him.

"I am sorry, my Lord," Leah said softly, pulling him into an embrace that carried the warmth of something far closer than a maid.

Valdren drew in a slow breath, hugging her back.

"Sorry," he said, resting his head against her.

Leah said nothing, only holding him as both of them continued slowly toward his room.