Aurelius sighed, lifting his gaze from the open book in his hands.
His eyes drifted to the complex construct clicking faintly beside him, its layered arrows and planets slowly moving “I suppose I should at least check,” he said to the empty room.
He rose from his chair and pushed open the door to his study, peering out into the hall beyond. As to Aurelius' expectation no one was there.
“Seems no students this year either,” he said quietly, a tired note in his voice.
With another sigh, he turned back toward his room—
Thud. The sound was dull and heavy.
Aurelius froze.
Several books lay scattered on the floor near one of the shelves, their bindings cracked from the fall. That alone would have earned irritation, but it wasn’t what caught his attention.
There, half-buried among the fallen Books, lay a boy.
Unconscious again. Of course.
The unmistakable ivory-blond hair spilled across the stone floor, Aurelius stared for a long moment.
“…You,” he whispered. “What are you doing here, Third Prince Meliodas?”
With a flick of his wrist, his ashy Familiar manifested at his side. The construct moved at once, gently lifting the boy and placing him atop a table with practiced care.
Aurelius rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“So,” he said. “This year won’t be quiet after all.”
****
Meliodas woke with a dull ache behind his eyes. The moment he opened them, his hand went to his head as he took in his surroundings.
The same room.
The same table.
And, without fail, the same man.
Professor Aurelius sat nearby, ash-colored hair falling loosely around his face, pale ice-blue eyes calmly scanning the pages of a book. A cup of tea rested in his other hand, steam rising gently.
Meliodas pushed himself upright.
“Hello, Professor,” he said, rubbing his temple. “Sorry about the books.”
He glanced around instinctively, but the floor was spotless. No scattered books. No mess.
“My Familiar has already cleaned up after your mess, student,” Aurelius replied without looking up. “May I ask why you are here? Are you still feeling unwell?”
“No-no,” Meliodas shook his head quickly. “I’m here for the class. Monster Entomology, right?”
That made Aurelius pause.
He lowered his book slightly, one eyebrow lifting in clear disbelief.
“Really,” he said flatly. “If you want another booster, student, you can simply ask Morvack. He keeps plenty on hand. There’s no reason to lie.”
Meliodas frowned, clearly confused, but said nothing.
Aurelius stood up.
Only then did Meliodas notice the walking stick in his hand.
“Professor… are you alright?” Meliodas asked, glancing at it.
Aurelius waved the concern away dismissively.
“Oh, this?” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
He paused, studying Meliodas more closely now, disbelief still evident in his expression.
“You’re really here for the class?” Aurelius asked.
Meliodas nodded.
“So which professor put you up to this?” Aurelius asked, slightly more annoyed now. “Elowen? Or perhaps Adelion?”
Meliodas blinked, clearly confused.
“No one, Professor. I’m here for the class,” he said honestly. “I don’t even know Professor Elowen. I did meet Professor Adelion on my way here, but he was only interested in my Familiar.”
Aurelius raised an eyebrow.
He turned away without another word and sat back down.
Meliodas studied him quietly. Something was wrong with Professor Aurelius, more than before. His movements were slower, his posture heavier, as if the weight he carried had grown since their last meeting.
It couldn’t be my fault, Meliodas thought…Could it?
Aurelius gestured toward the seat across from him.
“Sit.”
Meliodas nodded and sat down. They sat in silence for a moment.
Then a sudden chill washed over him.
Meliodas glanced to the side just in time to see the ash construct carrying a teapot. It moved without sound, setting the pot gently on the table before dissolving into drifting embers. As Meliodas watched it vanish, his vision blurred slightly, his senses disoriented for a moment.
He quickly looked away.
Meliodas poured himself a cup, took a cautious sip, then spoke softly.
“Are you alright, Professor? You seem unwell. Did saving my life—”
Aurelius raised a hand, interrupting Meliodas.
“Do not concern yourself with that, student,” Aurelius said calmly. “Now…” He studied Meliodas over the rim of his cup. “What exactly compelled you to register for this class?”
Meliodas hesitated.
He weighed his words carefully, turning them over in his mind before deciding on the truth.
“To be honest, Professor… you did,” he said. “You seem like someone I could learn a great deal from. Not just about monsters and their weaknesses, though that knowledge is important, but from your experience.”
He glanced around the study, at the towering shelves.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“And your book collection,” he added. “It’s… impressive. Even the Grand Library of Archypego, which isn’t saying much, admittedly can’t compare to this.”
For a moment, Aurelius said nothing.
Then he smiled.
It was faint, but warm.
“Thank you, student,” Aurelius said. “But are you certain? Professor Adelion is a far greater scholar than I. You would learn much more from him, also the library has a far greater collection as well.”
Meliodas shook his head lightly.
“Don’t worry about it, Professor. I plan to take Professor Adelion’s class as well. As you’ve probably heard, I’m interested in arrays.”
He paused, then added with a faint smile,
“And as my mother always says, it’s good to listen to multiple perspectives. That’s why I decided to take your class too.”
Aurelius sighed, but there was no irritation in it, only resignation.
“Maera is a clever woman after all,” he said quietly. “Very well, then.”
The Professor took another sip of his tea.
“Let me explain what we will be studying in this class.”
With a small flick of his finger, a heavy book appeared on the table in front of Meliodas, landing with a solid thump.
“The volume before you is the Monster Encyclopedia,” Aurelius said. “It is the most detailed compilation on hostile creatures currently known. In this class, we will study these creatures in depth, not merely their anatomy, but their behavior, habits, and patterns.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“And more importantly, we will discuss the most optimal and efficient methods of dealing with them.”
He gestured toward the book.
“Go ahead. Take a look.”
Meliodas didn’t hesitate. He opened the book, surprised by its weight, and began skimming through the pages. Detailed illustrations filled the parchment, creatures of every shape and size, many accompanied by dense annotations and tactical notes.
His fingers slowed as he reached the section labeled Herbivores and Burrow Predators.
One entry caught his eye.
Burrowfang:
Class: Current
The Burrowfang is a massive subterranean arachnid and apex ambush predator, infamous for its patience and brutality. It spends the majority of its life beneath the soil, sensing vibrations through the ground before erupting upward to strike.
Its body is thick and muscular, coated in coarse, blade-like hairs capable of shredding exposed flesh on contact. Eight powerful legs grant it terrifying mobility despite its size, allowing rapid repositioning even in unstable terrain. Its oversized, serrated jaws grind constantly, designed to tear through bone, armor, and most conventional defensive constructs.
Burrowfangs are known to form symbiotic hunting relationships with surface predators, using smaller creatures to flush prey toward their underground kill zones. Even juvenile specimens are considered fatal threats to untrained Straum users.
Physical Description:
Brown in coloration, with earth-toned eyes adapted for low-light perception. Thin green lines run through the length of its bristled hair, believed to be residual Straum channels used for vibration sensing.
Aurelius’ gaze drifted to the open book in front of Meliodas. His eyes narrowed slightly.
“I see you’ve found something that caught your interest, student,” he said calmly.
He leaned forward just enough to read the heading.
“Burrowfangs,” Aurelius murmured. “An interesting choice.”
He glanced back at Meliodas. “I suppose it makes sense. You tend to be drawn to things you’ve already encountered.”
Meliodas looked up, surprised.
“You knew I fought one, Professor?”
“Yes,” Aurelius replied evenly. “As you and Tyka were evaluated. We observed the fight closely.”
A pause.
“Impressive, I must say.” He tapped the page lightly.
“If I recall correctly, the specimen you faced was still a hatchling. No green Straum channels along its bristles, correct?”
Meliodas nodded.
“You’re right. Is that why it felt… less threatening than what’s described here?”
Aurelius’ expression hardened, not unkindly, but seriously.
“Correct. What you encountered was barely out of its nest, it was at the beginning of the River realm.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“A fully grown Burrowfang would never be allowed to roam in a supervised wild zone. Once they grow too powerful, they are either killed by professors or assigned as extermination targets for third-year teams.”
His ice blue eyes met Meliodas’.
“If you had faced a mature specimen,” Aurelius said quietly,
“You would almost certainly be dead, student.”
Meliodas swallowed, then nodded slowly before speaking.
“So, Professor… what could I have done better in that fight?”
Aurelius answered without hesitation.
“Several things,” he said calmly. “To begin with, your team composition was flawed from the start. It was clever of you to retreat into the clearing away from the tall grass and force the engagement on your terms, but foolish to commit to a fight without understanding what you were facing.”
He tapped the book and the page shifted, Aurelius then pointed at it.
“The Venomtailed Scarab’s toxin is mostly harmless to trained Straum users,” Aurelius continued, “but it carries potent paralytic effects. Student Tyka rushed in without caution. Had you possessed a healer, the outcome might have been different.”
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Still,” he added, “you likely would have lost regardless, if not for your tenacity and that spell of yours.”
Meliodas stiffened slightly.
“I was curious about that,” Aurelius said. “Why the bird, student?”
Meliodas exhaled.
“To be honest, Professor… most of it is a blur. I remember fragments. The rest is fog.”
He hesitated, then continued truthfully.
“That spell is my only true offensive technique. My father insisted I have at least one trump card. We practiced compressing my orbs, merging them to form a single high-output spell.”
He looked down at his hands.
“The cost is high,” he admitted. “The concentration required is extreme, and it drains my Straum completely.”
Aurelius studied him in silence for a moment.
“Yes,” he said at last. “Your lack of capacity is a serious limitation. A conventional spellcaster could likely perform a similar technique once or twice without collapsing.”
His gaze sharpened.
“But that doesn’t answer my question.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Why a bird?”
Meliodas didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his voice was calm.
“Simple, really. I always wanted to fly, Professor. Archypego’s tropical terrain is a paradise for birds. I grew up watching them, looking up to them.”
He hesitated, then added,
“My father said it had something to do with belief. Visualization. Giving form to intent.”
Aurelius hummed softly, fingers tapping once against his cup.
“I understand,” he said thoughtfully.
He set the cup aside and looked directly at Meliodas.
“Before we continue, student, there is another question I wish to ask you.”
Meliodas straightened slightly.
“Do you know what a monster is?”
Meliodas thought for a moment before answering.
“They’re violent creatures,” he said carefully. “If I remember correctly… Straum overwhelms them. Since they don’t possess the intellect of humans or other sentient races, it takes over their instincts and drives them into aggression.”
Memories surfaced—old books his mother had given him as a child, illustrations of beasts tearing through villages.
Aurelius nodded once.
“Half correct,” he said. “A good start.”
He leaned back slightly.
“In the lower realms of Straum, monsters are violent by nature and highly territorial. As you said, they lack higher reasoning and are consumed by Straum, their instincts warped beyond balance.”
He raised a finger.
“But in the later realms, monsters, or more accurately, Straum Beasts, begin to change.”
Meliodas listened intently.
“They develop intelligence,” Aurelius continued. “Not human, not always rational, but sufficient. Their violent tendencies become controlled rather than frenzied. Territory still matters greatly to them, but they no longer act purely on impulse.”
Aurelius pause.
“They are no less dangerous,” he added calmly. “In many cases, they are far worse.”
Meliodas nodded slowly.
He and Aurelius continued their discussion long into the evening, moving from one creature to another, dissecting habits, weaknesses, and patterns until night had fully claimed the academy grounds. By the time Meliodas left the laboratory, the Lumenwings were flying and illuminating the academy island.
****
As Meliodas made his way back toward the dormitory, he let out a quiet breath.
That went rather well, Meliodas thought. I was right. Aurelius is incredible.
The way the professor spoke about monsters and Straum Beasts, it wasn’t pure academic knowledge. It was familiarity, as if he had seen most of them with his own eyes.
I can gain a lot from this class, Meliodas continued thinking . I still don’t understand why so many students ignore it. This knowledge saves lives.
Lost in thought, he barely noticed when he reached the edge of the Mage Plaza.
“Run! He’s crazy!”
“He’s going to kill us!”
“Please—someone help!”
Meliodas froze.
The screams tore him out of his thoughts instantly.
His head snapped toward the sound, heart pounding as panic echoed from the river near the plaza. Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint, racing toward the voices.
He pushed through a cluster of bushes and skidded to a halt.
Meliodas blinked. Then rubbed his eyes. Then looked again.
“What the hell is going on here…?”
Professor Kazzek stood atop a large rock near the riverbank, arms folded behind his back, his massive frame silhouetted against the moonlight. Below him, chaos unfolded.
Students were scattered across the clearing.
Some were fighting poorly, launching spells and charging recklessly toward him. Others were fleeing outright, sprinting away through the trees. A few were in the river itself, thrashing through the dark water as they tried to escape downstream.
Swimming? Meliodas thought, stunned. At this hour? The water must be freezing.
Kazzek laughed, the sound deep and booming.
“Yes… run!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the clearing. “Leave if you don’t have the guts!”
He moved like a force of nature, swatting aside spells, deflecting strikes, and knocking students off their feet with controlled, brutal efficiency. It wasn’t a sparring match, Kazzek was beating them to a pulp.
Meliodas stepped out of the bushes, still trying to make sense of the scene as his shoulder collided with a student who came sprinting toward him, eyes wide with terror.