My Demon Professors Are All Gorgeous Girls
Chapter 98: Trial One — The Lie of Peace

Chapter 98: Trial One — The Lie of Peace

The night before, the Academy’s gates had fallen silent with anticipation. Students whispered in cramped halls, professors lingered by torchlight, and the Codex trembled on its pedestal as if it sensed what was coming. Now, dawn broke with an eerie stillness, the kind that lives between heartbeat and breath. No birds sang. No wind stirred. Only the Origin Halo, suspended above the rooftops, glowed with a soft iridescence that matched the pale sky.

I stood on the balcony of the East Wing, peering down at the courtyard where four of my closest allies awaited me. Seraphina, Valmira, Yuria, and Zephira formed a half-circle around the old brazier at the center, its basin cold and empty since Lilith’s final farewell. This morning, the brazier would serve as our portal into the first of ten trials the Halo had foretold—ten tests that would determine whether I was worthy of the magic it offered.

A tremor pulsed beneath my feet as I approached, and I could feel the Halo’s gentle tug upon my spirit. It was not a threat, but a summons. I inhaled, letting the calm sink in. My breath fogged in the crisp morning air.

Seraphina turned to me, her frost-laced staff resting in one hand. "Are you ready?" she asked, her voice low.

I nodded, swallowing the tightness in my throat. "Always."

Valmira opened the Codex to a fresh page. "The first trial will manifest as an illusion," she said. "A peace so perfect it veils a darker truth. Recognize its lie and you will pass."

Yuria cracked her knuckles, lightning sparking in her curls. "Sounds like my kind of party."

Zephira’s scarred gaze swept the courtyard. "Stay sharp. Illusions can be deadlier than real foes."

I pressed a hand to the brazier’s rim. "Then let’s begin."

Summoning the Trial

Together, we formed a circle around the brazier. The Halo’s light intensified until it pierced the morning gloom. Golden motes drifted from above, swirling like dust caught in a sunbeam. The motes descended into the brazier’s basin, and the air filled with a soft hum that turned into a tidal wave of sound—voices singing a hymn of peace.

Seraphina raised her staff, tracing a protective rune in midair. The humming receded at her touch, but the hymn grew louder. We knelt, watching as the brazier filled with a liquid silver light that rippled like mercury. From its depths a single shape emerged: a figure clad in embroidered robes of white and gold, hair like spun silver, eyes closed in serene contentment.

The figure—an exact likeness of me—stepped forward, smiling. I blinked. My double’s robes bore my Architect sigil, but its aura was different: no crown, no circlet, only calm. It opened its eyes and regarded us with gentle warmth.

"Welcome, Kazuki Ren," it said in my own voice. "You have chosen peace. You have invited unity. You have laid down arms and asked for healing. Come, embrace this peace and be free from conflict."

The Perfect World

The illusion shifted. The courtyard around us transformed. Frost-lilies unfurled petals of pure white and gold. Stone benches waxed warm beneath our feet. The Academy gleamed like pearl and glass, its towers soaring without scars or soot. Students strolled through blooming gardens, laughter soft as bells. Seraphina watched a child feed phoenix-feathers to a golden bird; Yuria joined him, lightning arcs painting rainbows above their heads. Valmira read runes aloud atop a fountain that sang in clear tones; Zephira sparred playfully with Astraea by the Iceforge, blades colliding in perfect rhythm. I saw Lilith beneath a tree of silver bark, her flame-body whole and smiling.

My double approached me, hand outstretched. "All is well," it said. "No more trials. No more pain. No more sacrifice. This is the world we can build—together."

I reached out but hesitated. My heart thundered. The scene was too perfect—every fear erased, every wound healed. My mind rebelled. Memories of war, loss, blood, and ice rose in my chest like molten iron. This peace felt brittle, as though built on hidden cracks.

Valmira leaned close. "Remember her words—’peace built on lies will not last.’" She spoke softly but urgently.

Seraphina’s voice followed: "Choice. Unity. Sacrifice. Memory. Which spark do we need now?"

I forced my hand back. The illusion flickered. The hymn cracked. The children’s laughter warped into distorted echoes. The golden bird’s feathers turned to shards of glass. Lilith’s form flickered and vanished.

The smooth marble paths shattered, revealing cracks of shadow. The towers crumbled in reverse, smoke and ruin swallowing the light. My double’s eyes opened wide, surprise—and then anger—blazed across its face.

"Stay," it demanded. "Accept this peace."

I shook my head. "No."

With a thrust of my staff, I shattered the brazier’s basin. Silver light exploded like fireworks, and the illusion collapsed in on itself. The courtyard returned to its frost-covered reality: broken windows, cracked stones, silent statues.

Valmira’s Codex lay open, runes rearranged to form new words: "Trial One passed. The lie of peace revealed."

I exhaled, the fog of illusion fading from my mind.

After the Illusion

Seraphina approached, eyes bright. "You saw the truth."

I nodded, stepping over the brazier’s shattered remains. "Peace without honesty is a prison."

Yuria brushed frost from her shoulders. "And a boring party, anyway."

Zephira wiped sweat from her brow. "Illusions are weapons in their own right. You recognized the weapon."

Valmira closed the Codex. "The second spark awaits. Rest now, then gather at dusk." She tucked her quill away.

Astraea joined us beneath the Halo’s glow. "You did well, Architect. You chose reality over comfort."

I placed my hand on the brazier’s cold rim. "I choose hope built on truth."

Epilogue: The Next Dawn

That evening, as the sun sank behind the mountains, we reconvened in the lecture hall. Each trial’s outcome would be recorded in the Codex, ensuring that future readers would learn from our choices. The hall’s torches burned steady flames, reflecting in runic mirrors that cast dancing glyphs across the walls.

Valmira read from the newly inscribed page: "Trial One: The Lie of Peace. Warning—peace without truth is a gilded cage. Truth must guide any harmony you build."

The students listened with widened eyes, understanding dawning. Seraphina led a discussion: what makes peace genuine? How do we guard against complacency?

Yuria offered her perspective: "When a storm rests, you check the skies for new clouds. You don’t assume the calm will last."

Zephira added: "And you never sheath your blade completely. You remain vigilant in tranquility."

Astraea closed the session with a vow: "We carry hope and memory in equal measure. The Academy lives on both."

I surveyed the hall and felt Lilith’s ember glow in my chest—a living spark kindled by our choice. The path ahead would demand honesty, cooperation, and sacrifice. But after the lie of peace, I knew I would never mistake ease for truth again.

As the students filed out beneath the Halo’s pale light, I lingered at the podium, hand resting on the Codex’s spine.

Choice. Unity. Sacrifice. Memory.

Under that eternal ring of dawn, I whispered my own vow: "May every spark we ignite illuminate the world with honesty and hope."

And I closed the Codex, readying myself for Trial Two, knowing that no illusion could bind the will of those who choose to see clearly.