Broken Possessors of Infinite Regression Academy

At the moment a blue light bloomed from eternity, the sword technique drawn at the same time traced a single path. Mahbat hastily took a defensive stance, realizing that the sword tip was aimed precisely at his reverse scale, but it was already too late.

It’s not about blaming that judgment. Even the chairman didn’t know the location of Mahbat’s reverse scale, so who would have expected that a human, whom he met for the first time today, would know its location? Even if there was a hero beside him.

However, the fact that it was a wrong judgment did not change, and the time had come to pay the price for the misjudgment. The tip of eternity’s sword penetrated the innate weakness of the dragon, the only one among the tens of thousands of scales that was set in reverse.

–Crash!

A golden light burst out from within the scales. The Dragon Heart, said to render both the hero’s and the demon king’s attacks useless, could not prevent an explosion aimed at itself.

–Screeeeaaaach!

Mahbat roared. The sound alone felt like it would burst eardrums. Enduring the rapidly deafening ears, I drove eternity even deeper. The blade poured mana into his body.

The tens of thousands of scales misaligned, and that was the end. Mahbat fell silent. Confirming the limp forelimbs, I pulled out the sword and landed.

The giant body, as big as a mountain, seemed to stagger for a moment before slowly collapsing. As soon as it hit the ground, the entire basin vibrated greatly with a loud thud, kicking up a cloud of dust. The light that had covered the sky until then began to fade only after Mahbat had fallen. Brynhild landed nearby. The divine radiance that had enveloped her gradually diminished.

“Is it over?”

“It seems so.”

I examined him. He appeared to be alive, though his body was twitching slightly, indicating he lacked the strength to do anything. Despite the Dragon Heart being shattered into pieces and his insides torn apart, he was still alive, showing a disgustingly tenacious vitality. Perhaps, from the beginning, there was no need to hold back.

“What was that just now? The holy sword shone brilliantly. And your body floated up into the sky.”

“Oh, that?”

Brynhild smiled shyly.

“It responded to the desire to save someone. To be precise, it responded to my desire to save you.”

“To save me?”

“You’ve been horribly injured twice in front of me. Both times, you were hurt because I left you to fight alone. Even though you’ve recovered, you were still injured. So when I wanted to fight alongside you to prevent you from getting hurt again, it responded.”

Was that what she was murmuring to the holy sword earlier? I stared at Brynhild blankly and then pretended not to know and asked.

“By the way, I noticed a golden light seemed to be imbued in my sword earlier. Do you happen to know why?”

“A golden light? Oh, that. That…”

Brynhild, who had been babbling, blushed. Then she stammered her reply.

“I just shared my power with a good companion so they could purify evil forces. Mira, I can trust you with that, right?”

“Really?”

I asked again in a deliberately meaningful voice.

I knew it was true. I only asked half-jokingly because Brynhild was embarrassed and didn’t know what to do. Anyway, I expected her to affirm it—

“W-what, do you think it’s a power that only works for someone I like? That’s not possible!”

“Huh?”

“…Oh.”

Brynhild, blurting things out, seemed to realize she had made a slip of the tongue and fell silent. Her face slowly turned red. Not just her cheeks, but even her ears turned red, making her whole face look like a beet.

“As a friend! I mean I shared my power with someone I like as a friend! Don’t misunderstand! Never! Don’t ever misunderstand! So… yes! Just like with Aria! I like Aria as a friend too! If she were here, she would have received the power too!”

Although she didn’t know, but Aria ends up with Brynhild in the original story. It is a yuri romance after all.

After making several more excuses, Brynhild seemed to realize that nothing she said would help, and she crouched down, burying her head between her knees. I quietly moved to the seat next to her. Given her posture and clothes, if I stayed standing, I might end up seeing her underwear.

“…Hey, Mira.”

After crouching for a long while, Brynhild finally spoke up.

“I’m listening.”

“You know, I’ve been wondering. Why do you call Aria by her name but call me Brynhild instead of Leona?”

There was a reason for that. Aria, being the protagonist of the original story, was often called by her first name rather than her last name, and naturally, Priscilla, who had experienced the original story hundreds of times, was accustomed to calling her Aria. Conversely, Brynhild, due to her status as a hero, was usually referred to by her last name, Brynhild, or her full name, Leona Brynhild. Priscilla, who hadn’t gotten as close to her as to Aria, followed suit. Most of the original plot I knew was told by Priscilla, so I naturally adopted the terminology she used.

“So, do you want me to call you by your first name too?”

“Well, it’s not that I’m insisting on it. It would seem like I’m forcing you. I don’t really mean to. If it’s comfortable for you, you can, but if it’s not, that’s okay too. I just don’t want to force you…”

Brynhild, speaking rapidly, suddenly fell silent. Then she slowly nodded.

“…Okay.”

“Got it, Leona.”

Twitch. Her body trembled slightly. She still didn’t seem inclined to lift her head, so I turned back to check on Mahbat. He was still clinging to life tenaciously.

‘Should I call the chairman now?’

Having used the highest-level healing magic, the wounds should be perfectly healed, and if she could kill Mahbat with her own hands, she would crawl here if she had to. Calling her before he dies would make for a more perfect revenge.

“Hey, Mira!”

Just as I was about to take out the communication device, Leona stood up. Her usually brilliant golden eyes were now darting around in confusion.

“I forgot to mention… there’s someone who wants to talk to you!”

“To me? Who?”

Suddenly, she held out the holy sword.

“The Goddess.”

.

.

.

“Hurry up and drink it before I pull out all your teeth and force it down your throat.”

“Ugh, ah…”

The man lying on the floor trembled as he gulped down the potion.

“Gah, arghhh?!”

The reaction was immediate. His limbs twisted grotesquely. His lower body melted away, while his upper body hardened, turning into something akin to a plaster statue. The agony he felt was clearly etched on his frozen face. Watching the scene, Kirke, the second-in-command of the Demon King’s army, clicked her tongue.

“Tsk. Another failure.”

With a snap of her fingers, the man, still alive but now a mix of melted and hardened parts, floated up and was dropped into the center of the prison where the other test subjects were kept.

The imprisoned test subjects swarmed over the mass of slime and plaster that had once been their comrade, devouring it hastily. It was a brutally grotesque sight, but Kirke didn’t even glance at it.

“Yawn… Should I try a different poison? There’s no progress at all.”

Kirke stretched, her attire revealing much of her skin and voluptuous figure, similar to the naked aprons worn by humans. Given that the environment was filled with lethal poisons so deadly that even a single drop on bare skin would necessitate cutting away the affected part to survive, wearing such an outfit was a symbol of her strength.

“Experiment number 71… failed. The reason for the failure… hmm… whatever! Who cares.”

After giving a brief feedback, Kirke was about to start experiment number 72 when she heard someone entering the workshop. Since the defensive spells hadn’t activated, it was clear that the intruder was one of the commanders.

However, even a commander couldn’t freely enter Kirke’s workshop. Kirke grabbed her staff, annoyed, and turned around.

“I told you not to come in unless it’s something related to the Demon King when I’m experimenting, didn’t I? I even put up a polite sign on the door. Who the hell is…?”

Kirke’s words caught in her throat as she froze in place.

It was Astaroth, who was known to have betrayed the Demon King and fled to the human world.

“Are you insane? What kind of lunatic walks in here so brazenly? Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is?”

The insults slipped right out of her pretty lips.

Because of that woman, the entire command had been reprimanded by the Demon King, and now the entire succubus tribe was confined in underground prisons, waiting to either die or be turned into sex slaves. Kirke couldn’t care less about the fate of the succubus tribe, but being reprimanded by the Demon King was something she couldn’t overlook.

“Why do your hair and eyes look like that? Did you lose your mind?”

It wasn’t just that which surprised Kirke. Astaroth’s characteristic pink hair and eyes had turned completely black. Furthermore, her overall demeanor had changed significantly. The playful and flirtatious behavior she displayed regardless of the gender of her target was gone, replaced by a heavy, somber presence.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out later. Anyway, it’s good to see you. If I capture you alive, the Demon King will surely reward me. So don’t resist and just surrender, okay?”

Kirke raised her staff. The entire workshop, under their feet, began transforming into a trap and barrier. Amidst the ever-changing workshop, Astaroth smirked coldly.

“Me, a traitor? What nonsense. The real traitor is the Demon King.”

“Yeah, yeah. Save the nonsense for after you’re caught. Right now—mmph?!”

Just as Kirke was about to finish her incantation, her mouth was forcibly shut. Astaroth, moving faster than the eye could see, had closed the distance and clamped a hand over her mouth. The incantation was interrupted, and the workshop fell silent.

Kirke was horrified. Speed beyond even her perception, a fellow commander’s speed, no less?

“Draining energy from a woman is usually tasteless, but I wonder if a commander like you tastes any better.”

Astaroth’s wings and tail tightly bound Kirke as she pressed their lips together. A slick tongue pried open Kirke’s mouth, intertwining with her own.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

Kirke felt a horrible sensation. The intertwining of their tongues, the mixing of saliva, and the intrusive exploration of her mouth. Desperate to escape, she struggled, but the tail and wings held firm, tightening their grip.

“Ugh?!”

“Ugh… guh…”

Kirke, overwhelmed by sensations she had never experienced, could only roll her eyes back and emit pitiful groans. Her body ceased its struggles, only twitching sporadically as the tongue prodded her mouth.

Astaroth, still kissing Kirke, moved her to the bed, pinning her down as she continued. The tongue reached deeper still.

“—!!!!!!”

Kirke’s eyes were completely rolled back.

“Tasteless. Like garbage.”

Astaroth delivered her cruel verdict, dismounting Kirke’s body, which continued to spasm and emit pitiful noises.

“But it’s okay. You too will receive grace and be reborn… And when you awaken, you will serve the true Demon King, which is me.”

Not the false, treacherous Demon King who allied with humans, but the true one.