The carriage wheels transitioned from the dirt of the road to the smooth, enchanted tiles of the Great Bridge. The sound changed—from a rhythmic thumping to a high-pitched, ethereal hum. Outside, the rainbows created by the floating island's waterfalls sprayed a fine mist against the windows, momentarily obscuring the view of the paladins riding alongside.
Alexandros watched as the mist cleared to reveal the main gates of the Institute of Valerius. They were fifty feet high, wrought from "Sun-Steel" and etched with the deeds of the First Saint. As the carriage passed through, he felt a ripple pass through his very marrow—a scanning ward of immense power.
Identification: Demon. Rank: Royal. Threat Level: Suppressed.
He could almost hear the school's magical core categorizing him like a library book being shelved in the restricted section.
The carriage pulled into a vast, circular courtyard. Hundreds of students, dressed in the white-and-gold uniforms of the Academy, had gathered to witness the arrival. There was no cheering. Instead, a heavy, expectant silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the occasional clink of a paladin's armor.
"We have arrived," Seraphina said, standing up. "Remember, Alexandros. Within these walls, you are not a Prince of Erebos. You are a student under probation. Every step is measured. Every word is recorded."
"I've always enjoyed being the center of attention," Alexandros replied, smoothing his black silk tunic.
The carriage door opened.
The first thing that hit Alexandros wasn't the magic or the gazes; it was the smell. In the Demon Realm, the air smelled of sulfur, cold stone, and the metallic tang of mana. Here, the air smelled of freshly mown grass, blooming jasmine, and—surprisingly—toasted bread from the nearby dining hall. It was the scent of a peaceful, "Daily Life" world, and it felt more alien to him than any monster's lair.
As he stepped onto the pavement, a collective gasp rippled through the student body. They had expected a beast—perhaps a hulking, horned monster like Araxès or a shadowy wraith. Instead, they saw a boy of twelve with refined, aristocratic features, silver hair that caught the sunlight, and eyes that held a calm, terrifying depth.
"He... he looks human," a girl whispered from the crowd.
"Don't be fooled," a boy hissed back. "He's a devil in a silk suit. My father says his mother eats paladins for breakfast."
Lyca hopped out behind him, landing in a low crouch. Her ears were pinned back, her tail lashing with agitation as she sniffed the air. "Too many humans, Lulu," she growled. "They smell like fear and cheap soap."
"Quiet, Lyca," Alexandros said softly.
A small group of faculty members approached, led by a man in crimson robes. He had a long white beard and eyes that twinkled with a deceptive, grandfatherly warmth. This was Headmaster Alaric, one of the three Archmages of the Federation.
"Prince Alexandros," Alaric said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the courtyard. "I am Headmaster Alaric. On behalf of the Institute of Valerius, I welcome you. The Treaty of the Abyss has opened many doors, but none so significant as the one you have just walked through."
"I am honored to be here, Headmaster," Alexandros said, bowing with a grace that made the surrounding noble students look like clumsy peasants. "I hope to be a diligent student."
"I am sure you will be," Alaric replied, though his gaze lingered on the obsidian shard around Alexandros's neck. "Now, as for your... companion. The Lycan."
"She stays with me," Alexandros said firmly.
"The rules of the dormitories are quite strict regarding familiars and pets," Alaric began.
Lyca bared a single, long fang. "Pet? I will rip your beard off and weave it into a rug, old man."
Alexandros placed a calming hand on Lyca's shoulder. "She is neither a familiar nor a pet. She is a noble of the Silver Forest and my personal guard. Under the Treaty's diplomatic immunity clause, she is entitled to the same housing as myself."
Alaric sighed, a sound of weary resignation. "Very well. You shall be housed in the North Wing—the 'Tower of Reconciliation'. It is somewhat isolated from the main dormitories, for... everyone's comfort. Lady Seraphina will, of course, be residing in the adjacent suite."
"I expected nothing less," Alexandros smiled.
As the Headmaster led them toward the main spire, the students parted like the Red Sea. Alexandros felt the "strings" of the crowd—waves of prejudice, curiosity, and a few dark threads of genuine malice. He noted the faces of those who looked particularly hostile. Information is the only currency that matters in a place like this, he reminded himself.
The group entered the Great Hall. It was a cathedral-like space with a vaulted ceiling that showed a real-time map of the stars. Long tables were laden with food for the evening banquet.
"You will be introduced to the student body tonight," Alaric explained. "But first, we must settle you into your quarters. Professor Silas will meet you there to provide your schedule."
The Tower of Reconciliation was a beautiful, if somewhat lonely, spire on the edge of the floating island. It offered a breathtaking view of the clouds below and the distant mountains. The interior was luxurious, but the "Saints-Silver" woven into the carpets and wallpaper acted as a constant, low-level dampener.
As soon as the doors closed, Lyca collapsed onto a large, plush armchair. "I hate this place, Lulu. The air feels like it's trying to scrub my skin off."
"It's just a different kind of pressure, Lyca," Alexandros said. He walked over to his luggage, which had been delivered by unseen servants. He found the trunk with the false bottom.
He pressed a hidden rune, and the bottom clicked open. Inside was a small, black wooden box and a letter written in a swirling, aggressive script.
My dearest Lulu,
If you are reading this, you haven't been assassinated yet. Good. Inside this box is a 'Demon-Eye' mirror. If the humans try to bully you, show them this. It contains a recorded scream from the depths of the Abyss. It's very effective at causing permanent hearing loss.
Also, I've packed your favorite blood-orange tarts. Don't share them with the blonde girl. She looks like she's on a diet of lemons and holiness.
Love, Mamma.
Alexandros chuckled and tucked the mirror away. He didn't plan on using "Abyssal Screams" on his first day, but it was nice to have options.
A knock sounded at the door. It wasn't the heavy bang of a guard, but a hesitant, rhythmic tapping.
Alexandros opened the door to find a boy his age. He was small, with messy brown hair and a uniform that looked a bit too large for him. He was carrying a stack of books and looking down at his feet.
"U-um," the boy started. "I'm Theo. I'm the... I'm your 'Peer Mentor'. The Headmaster said I had to come and show you where the library is."
Alexandros tilted his head. Through his silver-sight, he saw that Theo's mana was strange—faint, flickering, and colored like bruised earth. He wasn't a noble or a high-ranking mage. He was a commoner, likely a scholarship student.
A sacrificial lamb, Alexandros thought. They sent the lowest-ranking student so that if I lost my temper and ate him, the political fallout would be minimal.
"Hello, Theo," Alexandros said, his voice warm and inviting. "I was just hoping someone would show me around. Would you like a blood-orange tart? My mother sent them."
Theo looked up, his eyes wide with shock. "Y-you're offering me food? I thought... they said you'd try to steal my soul."
"I have plenty of souls already," Alexandros joked, stepping aside to let the boy in. "I'm looking for a friend, not a snack."
Lyca poked her head over the back of the chair. "He looks like a snack," she muttered, though she didn't move.
Theo jumped nearly a foot in the air. "Is... is that the wolf?"
"That's Lyca. She's harmless as long as you don't touch my books," Alexandros said. He handed Theo a tart.
The boy took a bite, his face lighting up. "This is... this is amazing! It tastes like... fire and sugar."
"That's the Erebos special," Alexandros said. "Now, Theo, tell me the truth. Who is the most dangerous student in our year? Besides me and the Saint, of course."
Theo swallowed hard, his face turning pale. "That would be Marcus. He's the son of the Duke of Ravenhall. He's the captain of the dueling team, and he... he really hates démons. He's already said he's going to 'test' you during the Combat Assessment tomorrow."
"Marcus of Ravenhall," Alexandros repeated, memorizing the name. "And how does he feel about public humiliation?"
"I... I don't think he's ever been humiliated," Theo whispered.
"Well," Alexandros said, a cold, silver light flickering in his eyes for a split second. "Everyone needs a first time."
As the sun set, casting long shadows across the floating island, Alexandros stood on his balcony. Below, he could see the students heading toward the Great Hall for the banquet.
The "Daily Life" of an Isekai hero was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be about making friends and learning magic. But as he looked at the distant spires of the human capital, he knew his path would be paved with something else.
He was the Third Son. The Prince of Shadows in a world of Gold.
"Lulu?" Lyca asked, standing beside him in her human form. "Why are you smiling? It's your 'scary' smile."
"I was just thinking, Lyca," Alexandros said. "The Headmaster thinks he's put me in a cage. He doesn't realize he's just given me a front-row seat to his kingdom's collapse."
He turned away from the view, his black silk cape swirling. "Let's go to dinner. I believe we have some hearts to win... and some spirits to break."
As they walked toward the Great Hall, Seraphina emerged from her suite. She was watching him again, her blue eyes colder than ever.
"The banquet is a formal affair," she said. "Try not to display any... beastly habits."
"I'll be on my best behavior, Seraphina," Alexandros said, winking at her. "I promise not to eat any of the dukes. Unless they ask nicely."
Seraphina's jaw tightened. She walked ahead of them, her white robes glowing in the dimming light.
The banquet hall was a sea of gold and white. As Alexandros entered, the chatter died down instantly. All eyes were on him. He felt the weight of a thousand years of war and hatred pressing down on his shoulders.
He took his seat at the high table, next to the Duke of Ravenhall's son, Marcus—a tall, arrogant-looking boy with golden hair and a smirk that screamed trouble.
"So," Marcus said, not even looking at Alexandros as he picked up his wine glass. "The little demon prince finally came to play. Tell me, do you have a tail under those fancy clothes? Or did your mother cut it off to make you look more like a real person?"
The table went silent. Lyca's hand moved toward her knife.
Alexandros didn't flinch. He picked up his own glass, swirling the dark red liquid inside. "I don't have a tail, Marcus. But I do have a very long memory. I hope your dueling skills are as sharp as your tongue. It would be a shame if the Duke had to find a new heir so early in the semester."
Marcus's smirk vanished. He turned to face Alexandros, his mana flaring—a hot, aggressive gold. "Is that a threat, devil?"
"No," Alexandros said, his voice dropping to a whisper that only Marcus could hear. "It's a spoiler."
The banquet had only just begun, and the first war of the Academy had already been declared.