One month after reincarnation.
After some casual investigation into the modern world, I found that magic proficiency had declined more than I had expected.
Firstly, it seemed that humans weren’t even aware of Syrica, the reincarnation spell. Such practices had been common knowledge back in the Mythical Age, when it hadn’t been unusual for even humans with advanced magic to reincarnate. But in the modern era—the Magical Age—there were no known human reincarnators, at least to the general public.
My parents, Gusta and Izabella, were convinced that I was merely an extremely intelligent child. One that could talk from birth and had a knack for magic, that is. Kurst was considered an advanced spell in this era; nevertheless, it was just barely known. Their lack of acknowledgment regarding my reincarnation was inevitable.
More surprising to me, however, was my reincarnation as a human child.
The seeds had first been sown two thousand years ago. I had used magic to create seven subordinates from my blood and commanded them to produce descendants. A perfect reincarnation required a vessel of my own blood.
As predicted, the bloodline of the Demon King Anos had persisted for two thousand years, but I had never expected it to be mixed with the blood of humans.
No, perhaps the occurrence of mixed blood was only natural after a war between races had ended. Deep down, perhaps I, too, had believed that humans and demons could never get along. And yet, in the thousand years it had taken for the walls between the four realms to fall, humans had been isolated from demonkind and in that time had gradually forgotten their woes until such feelings had dissipated in their entirety.
As proof of that, humanity no longer possessed ample knowledge about the demon race. I had tried asking my parents, but they were no more familiar with the subject. They were aware that demonkind existed in a faraway land, but they lacked any further expertise. After all, we lived far from Dilhade, kingdom of the Demon Realm.
“Hm?” I detected a faint wave of magic outside the room.
When I opened the window, a single owl flew inside, dropping a letter into my hands. It was an invitation—to the Demon King Academy Delsgade.
“Demon King Academy...?”
Delsgade was the name of my castle, but I had no recollection of an academy. It had probably been established in the last two thousand years, but what for?
While I was pondering the question, the owl opened its beak.
“Delsgade is an educational institution dedicated to the training of future demon lords. It was created for the sake of the Demon King of Tyranny’s descendants—primarily for demon royalty.”
The Demon King of Tyranny, huh? That was an old nickname. I had once been called it equally as often as the Demon King Anos, but it seemed the nickname had been more convenient to pass down through the generations.
“Founded by the Demon King of Tyranny, the academy exists to ensure those closely related to him will successfully come to reign over districts of Dilhade as demon lords. You are a descendant of the founder. Thus, I have come to deliver your invitation to Delsgade. The Demon King Academy awaits your enrollment.”
A descendant of the founder? I was the founder himself!
The owl had probably found me by following the unique traces of magic that flowed from my blood, but I couldn’t really expect a familiar to look any deeper into the abyss. At a glance, this newly born body hosted only the diluted remnants of the founder’s blood. But upon closer inspection with Magic Eyes, it would be clear that the blood of the Demon King had merely mutated.
Technically speaking, I was a one-month-old baby. The invitations must have been sent out indiscriminately to anyone who fulfilled their conditions—seemingly, possessing a certain amount of magic along with the founder’s blood. Age, after all, was no barrier to demons who could use Kurst.
“This is said to be the year the founder will be reborn.”
The date of my return must have been passed down through the generations.
“Many of this year’s enrolling student body are so promising, they’re being dubbed the Cohort of Chaos. There are high hopes that the reincarnation of the founder is amongst them. In the event of the founder’s return, Delsgade will erupt with the jubilation of all demonkind.”
I see. In other words, the Demon King Academy existed to find my reincarnated self. In that case, I couldn’t leave them waiting. By all means, I wanted to see this promising Cohort of Chaos for myself.
“I accept the invitation.”
“The academy eagerly awaits your arrival, descendant of the founder.”
The owl flew off.
With that decided, there was no time like the present.
If I was to visit Delsgade, however, my current form would be somewhat inadequate. I used Kurst once more, which enveloped my body with light as it grew to the age of sixteen. A glance in the mirror revealed a black-haired, black-eyed young man. My features were more gentle than I would have liked, but there was enough of a resemblance to my former self.
Well, that was reincarnation for you.
I left my room and headed towards the front door. It was the middle of the night, and mom and dad were asleep, so I shouldn’t have any difficulty leaving. Or so I thought as I placed my hand on the door.
“Who’s there?!” mom’s voice called out from behind me.
Hmm, so she was awake. I hadn’t expected that, but surely she wouldn’t even recognize me in my new form. At any rate, I turned around to explain myself.
“Anos, dear? Did you grow bigger again?” she asked the instant she saw my face.
“How could you tell?”
“How couldn’t I? No matter how much you grow, you’ll always be my little Anos.”
It was somewhat embarrassing to go from “Demon King” to “little Anos,” but I’d had no luck correcting her so far.
“Where are you going so late at night? It’s not safe out there.”
I may have reincarnated, but that didn’t change that I was her son now. Now that I’d been discovered, I couldn’t just leave without a word.
“Have you heard of the Demon King Academy, mom?”
She tilted her head in confusion. “I haven’t. Is it a school somewhere?”
“Yes, but it’s rather far from here. It’s in Dilhade.”
“What do you need from such a distant school?”
“I’ve been invited to attend. I’m thinking of enrolling.”
“You can’t go to a school so far away—it’s too dangerous! You’re only one month old, Anos!”
Hmm. How troubling. I might have only been born a month ago, but one can’t treat a reincarnated man like he’s a baby. That said, mom didn’t know the first thing about demons, nor did she believe in reincarnation.
“I can’t go with you somewhere as far away as Dilhade, Anos. Isn’t there a magic academy closer to home?”
“There’s nothing for me to learn at a magic academy. Besides, I can go alone—there’s no need for you to come with me.”
“Absolutely not. I told you, you’re still one month old. I can’t let you live alone at that age. What will you do about money?”
“I can earn it myself.”
“How? The world isn’t as kind as you think—”
Magic gathered in the palm of my hand, forming a small gold mass.
“What...? No way... This isn’t a replica created by magic... It’s the real thing!”
Mom was an appraiser by trade, so she specialized in the valuation of precious metals. The moment she saw the gold, she understood how easy it would be for me to make money with such a skill.
“How did you produce this, Anos? Not even the castle sage can use this kind of magic.”
Her astonishment was considerable—of course it would be. The castle sage was one of the best magicians in the country. Being unable to use magic of this level would have been unthinkable in the Mythical Age, even for those of the human nation—it would have meant certain death. The modern world had seemingly become a much more peaceful place.
“Making real objects is basic creation magic, mom. Creating fictitious metals such as mythril and orichalcum is elementary. Child’s play for the Demon King Anos.”
Perhaps that would make her believe in my reincarnation a little.
“I-It doesn’t matter if you can use amazing magic—no means no. And my little boy just called himself Anos, didn’t he? A mature adult doesn’t refer to himself in the third person. Okay?”
Hmm. I hadn’t expected that argument...
“What is this Demon King Academy, anyway? What do you study there?”
What was I to do about this? It would be easy to use force, but...
“It’s all right, Izabella.” Dad joined us from the back of the house. “There’s no holding a man back from the path he’s decided on.”
“But dear, our little Anos is only one month old. And there’s no telling what kind of place this Demon King Academy is.”
“They say a boy can become a man overnight, right? Anos is one month old now, so he’s had thirty times as long. Although I can’t say my growth spurts were quite as dramatic.”
Indeed. After living with my parents for the past month, there were two things I’d learned: mom was an extreme worrywart, and dad wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.
“I understand how you feel, Anos. If it’s called the Demon King Academy, then it must be a school that teaches magic to kings. You’re talented at magic, so you want to study it properly, right?”
“That’s the gist of it. Kind of...”
His deduction wasn’t completely incorrect, so I just left it at that.
“Go, Anos,” dad said, encouraging me.
“You’re sure?”
Dad nodded. “But we’re going with you.”
...What?
“It’s a parent’s duty to support their child’s ambitions. That said, you’re one month old. That’s far too young to go off alone.”
“You needn’t worry about me...”
Dad wagged his finger, tsking at me. “You don’t get it, Anos. Listen up. When a child leaves the nest, their parents feel lonely. You’ve only just been born, so we’ll feel that loneliness even more keenly.”
Dad was using more complex words than usual. He didn’t need to push himself to make his point, though.
“Don’t you agree, Izabella?”
“Yes... I never imagined you’d grow up so fast. I’m sorry, Anos. I know you’re probably a prodigy blessed by a god, so maybe you feel like I’m just getting in your way, but...won’t you let me stay by your side a little longer?”
Even I struggled for words at that.
Before my reincarnation, I didn’t even have parents. My mother was dead. I never found out if my father had died or if he’d simply abandoned me. At the very least, I’d never spoken to either parent, which was why I had no particular attachment to them, but...
“If you’d miss me, I guess it can’t be helped.”
Mom beamed from ear to ear.
“All right, it’s decided! We’ll get ready to move right away. Don’t worry, your good ol’ dad’s a blacksmith. I can find work anywhere!”
And so, our family moved to Dilhade.