Chapter 83 - CH: 81: The Crimson Pact and Guard

Thank you legends for your support and contribution.

Thanks to[Kiranx5] for subscribing to my $5 tier!

For those willing to support, here's the link:

patreon.com/Eden_Translation

I am now back to 60 thanks for the support guys 🤧

*****

{Chapter: 81: The Crimson Pact And Guard}

Hawthorne hesitated for a breath, not because he feared the exchange, but because knowledge was currency—perhaps the only currency that mattered to wizards. Still, his pragmatic nature won out. If Dex truly had insights from the Abyss, they could prove invaluable.

"I accept your condition," he said at last. "If you can pay the price, the archives are open to you."

A moment later, the final glyph in the summoning circle lit up with a black-gold glow, and the contract was sealed.

Thus, the pact was made.

Dex, Chaos of the Abyss, would protect Silent Heart Academy for the span of one hundred mortal years. In return, he would receive continued soul sacrifices, and unrestricted access to magical knowledge provided he paid a fair equivalent. He would owe no allegiance to the academy beyond his duties. He could not harm its members or property without cause. But what defined "cause"... would always remain his to interpret.

---

From that moment forward, Silent Heart Academy bore an unusual new guardian.

Within the dense and forbidden stretch of woodland beyond the academy walls, a field of blood-colored flowers bloomed where none had before—scarlet blossoms with petals like blades and thorns that shimmered in moonlight. The forest grew quiet and strange, the winds whispering in tongues only heard in dreams.

Some called the place the Crimson Grove. Others simply called it "His Domain."

Those foolish or unlucky enough to wander too deep into that grove—usually curious students or drunken apprentices—would often emerge days later, their minds fractured and their spirits dulled, muttering nonsense about eyes in the trees and voices in their heads.

Word spread. Rules were drawn. Even the most rebellious knew not to trespass.

Dex, meanwhile, made his lair there in silence, only appearing when the wards were tested, when rogue invaders attempted to breach the academy's veil, or when a lecture caught his interest.

---

Seventeen Years Later

Perched atop a twisted, withered tree branch like some half-forgotten war deity, Dex sat in human guise.

Though the armor was gone, and his demonic form suppressed, his presence still bled through the illusion—his skin faintly glowed in low light, his hair shimmered with residual heat, and the shadows around him curled like living things.

He turned a brittle page in a floating tome and narrowed his eyes at the diagrams inked across the parchment.

"What a bizarre plane," he muttered aloud to himself, his voice laced with curiosity. "The inner world is divided into... communities? Each one composed of countless worlds... interconnected yet autonomous? Fascinating."

The more he studied, the deeper the mystery ran.

These "world communities," as the scholars called them, reminded him of galaxies, each a system of near infinite stars. Together, they formed the very structure of the plane. But unlike the orderly multiverse he'd once known, this world bent the laws. It fractured, healed, reshaped itself. Even its magic obeyed no universal rule.

'It's like watching atoms form molecules. Countless connections forming something greater. Alive... and yet volatile.'

Seventeen years had passed since his arrival. Years of observing, researching, occasionally teaching, and—once or twice—obliterating anything foolish enough to breach the wards.

He'd begun to understand the fundamental truth: this was a high-tier plane. Possibly even apex-tier. It pulsed with energy from ancient eons. Entire planes warred for dominance here, and this world—the so-called Wizard World—was a battlefield once crowned in conquest.

In distant millennia, it had unified its neighbors and led incursions into rival communities. But time wore down empires. And now, though still strong, the Wizard World was merely a fading relic of its former glory.

Though it had weathered countless storms—wars, betrayals, uprisings, and ideological schisms—the Wizard World was far from the brilliant titan it had once been.

Its golden age had passed.

Now, the grandeur of the old days lingered only in the crumbling texts of the Academy's libraries and the solemn portraits of long-dead archmages whose eyes still glowed faintly with forgotten spells.

The towering spires of the Silent Heart Academy still pierced the skies like solemn fingers pointing to the heavens, but the luster on their enchanted stones had long since faded. The shields protecting the boundaries shimmered weakly, like dying stars. The air around the campus carried the solemnity of old pride and whispered regrets—nostalgia thick as dust.

Dex stood upon a crooked cliff rooted deep within the Forbidden Forest, his demonic senses sweeping across the land.

He folded his arms as he gazed at the distant academy, the stone domes like sleeping giants. "A lean camel is still bigger than a horse…" he muttered with a crooked smile, quoting an old proverb from his previous life.

Despite their decline, the wizards of this realm were not to be trifled with. The mere fact that they still stood was proof enough—they must possess hidden depth, ancient trump cards, perhaps artifacts so powerful that even their enemies dared not act recklessly.

"Do people really think this world runs on mercy?" Dex scoffed. "No one runs a charity here—not in a dimension where entire civilizations feed on conquest."

This wasn't some peace-loving utopia. It was a brutal, unspoken law in the multiverse: worlds that failed to grow stronger were either consumed or enslaved. Survival came not through virtue, but through strength, deceit, and the timely application of destruction.

The Wizard World had long ago mastered the art of survival.

To Dex, it was a golden opportunity.

A perfect place to observe... to evolve.

A new garden in which to plant the seeds of deeper chaos.

And perhaps, in time, even a place to call home—at least for a while.

He smiled faintly, eyes still scanning the floating text.

"So much knowledge. So much chaos beneath the order. I wonder... when they realize what I am, will they still treat me as the guardian? Or will they try to cage me?"

The tree groaned under his weight, or perhaps under the pressure of the aura he no longer bothered to suppress.

Though they had provoked many powerful enemies across countless dimensions, their continued existence made one thing clear—they were still dangerous. And Dex, for all his pride, was no fool.

He had no intention of challenging that tangled nest of old monsters just to satisfy curiosity or ego.

In his sharp golden eyes, the so-called deans and archmages of the Silent Heart Academy were passable, maybe even comparable to him on the surface. But who knew what tricks they hid? He had a sneaking suspicion that tricking Hawthorne into a bad deal might provoke something far worse—a horde of ancient, semi-retired wizards with nothing better to do than avenge one of their own.

And in worlds like this, when you defeat a young one, an old one will come out. Defeat the old one? Then a whole crypt full of elders will crawl out, dusting off their bones and battle robes, each one older and more terrifying than the last.

This was what it meant to tread deep waters—beneath the surface, it wasn't fish that waited, but turtles. Massive, ancient turtles with long memories and even longer grudges.

So no, Dex wasn't going to test the limits of his contract. Not yet.

Unless he had absolute confidence in defeating every hidden force behind the academy, he'd play by the rules—for now.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't fantasize.

"If I ever wanted to trap Hawthorne," Dex mused with a grin, "I'd find a loophole. There's always a loophole. And what kind of demon would I be if I didn't know how to dance around contracts?"

Suddenly, his pointed ears twitched as the wind shifted.

The clouds above parted as something massive broke through the veil of fog—its body a blend of living wood and ancient enchantments. A flying construct in the shape of a whale descended from the skies, its belly aglow with soft, amber runes.

Dex sighed, lifting a hand lazily. With a subtle twist of his clawed fingers, he unraveled the veil over his domain, parting the clouds to allow the wooden whale entrance.

"Another delivery," he muttered. "Fresh meat for the Academy. And me? I'm the doorman. The immortal janitor."

He rubbed his temple with mock irritation. "Why do I, a proud demon of the abyss, have to act like some glorified gatekeeper? This job should be for middle-aged men with beer bellies and unpaid mortgages, not me."

He leaned against the tree, the gnarled branch creaking beneath him. "Speaking of age… I'm technically immortal. So, what is middle-aged for a demon? A thousand years? Ten thousand? Will I have a midlife crisis? Buy a flying motorcycle and summon a succubus to feel young again?"

As his dark thoughts spiraled into absurdity, the wooden whale landed on a nearby platform crafted from ancient vines and stone. With a soft groan, a set of wide stairs unfolded from its underbelly.

Out came a procession of faculty and guards—stern-faced professor dressed in robes trimmed with house colors, followed by a small legion of knight-attendants, their swords gleaming, standing tall and ever-vigilant.

Behind them shuffled a crowd of children, maybe seven or eight years old, their eyes wide with awe and fear as they stepped foot into a realm whispered of in bedtime stories. Most of them had never seen the Forbidden Forest before—much less the demon who guarded it.

The lead instructor caught sight of Dex lounging on the tree and immediately froze.

He swallowed, wiped his sweaty palms on his robe, and approached cautiously. "G-Greetings, Sir Dex," he stammered with a forced bow. "How… how are you today?"

The children looked up, curious.

The mighty demon before them had taken a human form—a tall, red-haired youth with crimson-goden eyes that shimmered like molten rubies. His expression was unreadable, somewhere between boredom and mild annoyance.

To their surprise, Dex simply waved a hand dismissively. "Go on. Don't let me stop you."

The instructor bowed again, nearly tripping over his own feet, and hurried to catch up with the group. The students followed, whispering in hushed tones behind their hands.

"Is that really the guardian?"

"He doesn't look scary at all…"

"My big brother said he eats children who talk back to teachers!"

"No, dummy. He only eats naughty ones…"

Dex heard it all and let out a soft chuckle.

He tilted his head back and watched the whale rise once more into the clouds, returning to the sky like a myth dissolving into morning mist.

Once the group was out of sight, he pulled out a worn journal and resumed reading—this one an advanced treatise on soul architecture and planar geometry.

Peace returned to the forest.

*****

You can support me by joining my Patreon and get upto 60 chapters in advance.

patreon.com/Eden_Translation