A Demon’s Grimoire

The classroom was a grandiose space, befitting the prestige of the Royal Academy. High arched ceilings soared above us, carved from pale stone that gleamed faintly in the light of floating mana crystals suspended in midair.

Rows of polished wooden desks, engraved with delicate sigils, formed neat lines across the room. Each desk was paired with a high-backed chair padded for comfort but stiff enough to remind students they were here to work, not lounge. At the front of the room stood a wide dais, raised slightly above the rest of the space.

I slid into my seat tentatively, trying to ignore the oppressive weight of all the eyes that seemed to follow me. The attention felt suffocating, and for good reason. I wasn't just another new student at the Royal Academy—I was the sole Diamond-grade summoner in the entire history of the Kingdom of Thane.

No one in this kingdom had even seen a Diamond-grade summoner before me. I was the first. The precedent. And though I had only begun this journey yesterday, I could feel the weight of expectations pressing down on me like an unseen chain.

"Nice to meet you, Lady Elara."

The voice, smooth and practiced, startled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I turned to see its owner: Prince Valkas von Thane. The third prince of the kingdom, his brilliant blond hair catching the light and his ruby-red eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and mischief.

He smiled, the sort of smile that came naturally to someone accustomed to being the center of attention.

"I greet His Highness," I replied automatically, years of etiquette training guiding my words and posture like muscle memory. My voice was steady, even as my mind raced to figure out why he was addressing me directly.

"How does it feel to become the kingdom's biggest celebrity?" he asked, his tone teasing but not unkind.

The words hit me like a slap, and heat rushed to my cheeks. Celebrity. He wasn't wrong. Even if the Royal Academy had wanted to keep my Diamond-grade status a secret, the leaderboard—boldly displaying my rank for all to see—had made that impossible. The news was likely spreading like wildfire beyond the academy walls as we spoke.

"A-a bit overwhelming," I managed to stammer, cringing internally at my own awkwardness.

The prince's smile widened slightly, as though he found my discomfort charming. Before I could think of a way to salvage my composure, he gracefully slid into his seat. His timing was impeccable because the classroom door creaked open, and all attention shifted to the figure who entered.

I froze. So did everyone else.

The woman who stepped into the room was not the instructor we had been expecting. Her long, dark violet hair flowed like ink down her back, and her violet eyes carried an intensity that made even the most confident students sit straighter in their chairs.

Medea Solaryn.

The Headmaster of the Royal Academy. The most powerful summoner in the entire Kingdom of Thane.

What was she doing here?

Medea's gaze swept the room like a blade, silencing the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the class. She stopped at the front of the room, her posture regal and commanding.

"I am your new teacher," she said, her voice smooth but carrying a weight that left no room for argument. "Medea Solaryn."

The name hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Everyone in the kingdom knew who she was. She wasn't just a summoner—she was the summoner, the pinnacle of what anyone in this kingdom could hope to achieve.

Medea paused, and for the briefest moment, her eyes flicked toward me. It was so quick I almost doubted it had happened, but the knot tightening in my chest told me otherwise.

Her next words were deceptively casual. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, I am now your instructor."

Right. Unforeseen circumstances.

The academy had expected Gold-grade summoners, as they did every year. They had accounted for prodigies like Prince Valkas and his Omega Luminara summon. But a Diamond-grade summoner? No one had prepared for that. No one had even dared to dream it possible.

I sank a little lower in my seat, desperately trying to appear smaller. The last thing I wanted was to draw more attention to myself. But as Medea began speaking again, I couldn't shake the feeling that the entire kingdom, from the walls of this academy to the throne itself, was already watching me.

"Currently," Medea began, her voice smooth and unwavering, "all of you have only a single summon. That's because, as of now, you possess only one mana core in your body." She let her words hang for a moment, her violet gaze sweeping across the room, ensuring every student was listening. "Forming additional mana cores will be one of the greatest challenges you face as summoners. And make no mistake—it will only grow harder the higher your grade."

She turned slightly, her posture elegant yet commanding. "For Gold-grade summoners, forming twelve cores is considered the theoretical limit, though in practice, it borders on the impossible. In the history of this kingdom, no Gold-grade summoner has ever achieved it. Even I," she said, her voice steady but tinged with something almost reflective, "after twenty years of relentless effort, have formed only ten. That is the highest any Gold-grade summoner has managed in Thane."

A murmur rippled through the room at the weight of her statement. Ten mana cores—an achievement most students could barely fathom. For a moment, I found myself wondering what kind of power it must take to maintain and wield ten summons, each as mighty as Medea's.

"And for Diamond-grade summoners…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes flicking toward me for the briefest of moments before returning to the room at large. "We have far less information available. Diamond-grade summoners are so rare that even speculation feels flimsy. However, based on what little we know, it is unlikely they could surpass eight or nine cores, even after decades of effort. The burden on the body and soul would be too great."

Her words settled over the room like a heavy fog. I swallowed hard, my fingers instinctively tightening around the edges of my grimoire. Eight or nine cores. Decades. Even with a Diamond grimoire, the road ahead was far from smooth.

Medea's voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. "But the number of cores you possess isn't the only factor that determines a summoner's survival—or their success. Your summons are not just your weapons; they are your shields, your allies, and your lifelines. And today, we begin teaching them to fight not just for themselves, but for you."

The room seemed to tense, the weight of her words sinking in. Medea's gaze sharpened, and for a moment, she looked less like a teacher and more like a general addressing a battlefield of soldiers. "Even I," she said, her tone firm and unyielding, "would die from a stray attack by a Luminara beast if not for my summons. Never forget that. No amount of skill or rank can make you invulnerable. Your summons must learn to defend you as fiercely as they fight their enemies."

She paused, letting the reality of her words settle over us. "Today, your summons will face battle. Most of them will know how to fight instinctively—that is their nature. But fighting while protecting you? That is a skill they must learn. And it is a skill you must ensure they master. Your survival depends on it."

The room was silent, the weight of her words sinking into each of us in different ways. My mind flicked to Aria, her small frame and calm demeanor juxtaposed with the overwhelming power I knew she possessed. She was terrifyingly strong, but could she shield me? Could I shield her?

Medea's gaze swept the room one final time. "Prepare yourselves," she said, her voice softer now, but no less commanding. "The bond between summoner and summon is not built in quiet halls or gilded classrooms. It is forged in battle."

Her words lingered, a quiet echo that refused to fade. And as I sat there, clutching my grimoire, I realized that this wasn't just a lesson. It was a warning.