Chapter 16:


The Demon Saint is Missing, so I Ran to Another World Vol. 12

***In one of the hallways of the Conclave…***

It’s been a while since the Lord Head Scholar had called him to a meeting. Nevertheless, the Discipline Prefect, Lord Scholar Benedetto Gracchio, knew the orders he had been given.

He should limit the support of the students for the Special Scholar.

The students’ growing admiration for the Special Scholar—as seen in the increase of student enrollment in his classroom, or the rumors going around that many of the scholars wanted to experience how he teaches, was a reason for alarm to the administrators of the Conclave. As such, using his position as the head of the Discipline Committee of the Conclave, the Lord Scholar Gracchio had drafted an order putting a ‘cap’ on the class size of the Special Scholar in every lecture he conducts.


Nevertheless, the Discipline Prefect was conflicted in himself. A member of the succubi/incubi Gracchio family of demon teachers dating back to the foundation of the Conclave, his parents ingrained unto him the importance of education above everything else—even above clan loyalties. That the people who wanted to control others would love to see their education and development stunted.

Isn’t that what the Lord Head Scholar Biorno is doing?

Truth be told, the Discipline Prefect had been observing the Special Scholar in all his classes. That human would always come to his classroom every single day unless it’s weekend, at exact times, too. Not only that, this teacher had been exerting all his efforts to make sure that his students would learn something from him once they attended his lectures. And, as if the Special Scholar wasn’t contented with his classroom sessions, he would sometimes see him teaching other students who were having trouble with their other subjects.

For the Lord Scholar Gracchio, it’s as if the Special Scholar Greg Santos is what his ancestors say as the ‘ultimate teacher’. Something that is worthy to teach their revered hero, Cassandra David.


Well, he had his doubts. Throughout their history after the 11th Human-Demon War, many historians had claimed to have identified the person who their hero was alluding to in all her speeches, written letters, and biographies. Time and time again, those claims were debunked, much to the disappointment of the scholars like him; and in the end, many of them decided that anyone who would say they knew the ‘hero’s mentor’ would be treated with disdain and suspicion.



This unassuming human, Greg Santos, had the gall to say that he was the one who taught Lady Cassandra David! The Lord Scholar Gracchio would’ve laughed his claim off, if not for him presenting compelling evidences about his knowledge of their revered hero. Still, the Discipline Prefect kept his doubts; as he was with the Usarveds—whose lives revolved around the research on Lady Cassandra David, it was possible that his knowledge came from them.

But then, something happened.


The Lady Srexe of the Goblins. That headache of a student they had was not an easy task to deal with; not to mention, her demanding parents added to the teachers’ woes. Nevertheless, he himself had seen how the Special Scholar was treated by the Lord Tenguri and the Lady Baraquiel with respect and admiration, as if he was a trusted companion. And then, their daughter—who was their ‘role model’ for delinquents—was now doing her best in class.

For the Lord Scholar Gracchio, those things couldn’t be disregarded, as to the capability of this human to become the Lord Head Scholar. While Emile Biorno had his good moments, the Discipline Prefect was being convinced that the Conclave direly needed reforms.

And the Special Scholar is the one who has the idea on how to fix their system…


The Lord Scholar Gracchio took one last look at the paper where he had written the ‘class cap’ order. His loyalty lay with the Biorno clan, so he knew he must do this in order for them to improve.


With one deep breath, the incubus tore the paper in half and crumpled it. Then, using his magic, he burned it to ashes.

The Lord Scholar Benedetto Gracchio will show his loyalty to the Biornos by supporting the Special Scholar…



I never expected Lord Greg to reach a decision this fast.


I’d been thinking…did I maneuver him to do what I wanted? Because looking back, my original intention was to keep him away from the Human Saint, yet he got involved in my problems in the end. I mean, yes, I’d been looking for solutions to end this deadlocked conflict between me, the Knights, and the traditionalists led by the Lord Head Scholar Emile Biorno. That’s why I went to Chersea, after the Demon Saint—my last hope when the Devil of the Grey Parka, Sir Loin of Steak—disappeared at the Holy Palatial Gardens.

However, I didn’t put the Lord Greg—or Lord Kuro—in the equation. It just so happened that staying with the Human Saint was dangerous for him, or that’s what I understood from what the Saint of the Flame told me. So I took him to Cherflammen.

Now…I couldn’t help but pin my hopes on him. The Lord Greg, though he was just a human, seemed to be an unstoppable force once his ‘interest’ was piqued.


And of course, as his student, I shouldn’t keep silent. I had to support my teacher in his reforms.

Oh! You’re going out again as Prince Hurion Devras?” my chamberlain asked when I requested a set of my ‘brother’s’ clothes.

“Yes,” I nodded, “I have to.”

“Is this about what happened last time?” Shevaun began to unbutton my clothes.

“Yep. Our time is limited, and will waste away if we don’t do something about it soon.”

“Are you sure about this?” Once everything was off my body, my chamberlain started putting on my ‘princely’ clothes, “You’re literally putting the Lord Kuro in danger.”

“Of course, I’m aware of it, Shevaun,” I replied to her. “However, can we even stop him?”

“Based on what we researched about the Lord Kuro’s personality? I think we can’t.”

“Then you have your answer. Besides, Emile Biorno had finally declared war on us, when he tried to seduce the Lord Greg with the Lady Scholar Capaldi.”

“And what about the Saint of the Flame? What will we do if the Lord Kuro is harmed?”

“That’s not a possibility, Shevaun.”

“There’s the risk.”

“That’s why I’m going out as Prince Hurion Devras,” I countered. “I’ll go around the Conclave and seek support for his candidacy as the new Lord Head Scholar among the student-scholars.”

“You realize the Lord Head Scholar Biorno and his supporters won’t take this idly.”

“Of course. That’s a given,” I chuckled. “That’s why, I’ll throw the resources of House Usarved behind the Lord Greg.”

“Can we even do such a thing?” Shevaun asked. “As far as I know, after the recent conflict and the subsequent truce, our faction direly needs resources, too. If we throw everything to the initiative of the Lord Kuro, and he loses, then we’ll end up weaker than the Knights and the traditionalists.”

“And if he wins, then we’ll have an unprecedented base of support at best, or a neutral but sympathetic faction at worst,” I pointed out.

“Hmm…” my chamberlain was in deep thoughts. “I’m still not convinced. My apologies, Your Highness, but I wanted to be sure of our victory.”

“I understand, Shevaun. Then how about this? What if we allocate a third of our resources—soldiers, arms and money—for the Lord Greg’s cause? That way, if something wayward happens, we still have something left for us to build upon.”

Shevaun was silent. I knew that when she did that, she was calculating the risks and benefits of our ventures. It’s one of the reasons why I put her in the position as my chamberlain; I could always rely on her wisdom whenever it was needed.


But her continued silence was alarming me. In such cases, Shevaun was still unconvinced, and she would do her best to oppose my proposals.

As someone who wants to support the cause of Lord Greg, it’s troubling for me!

“Okay, I got it,” my chamberlain finally agreed. “Nevertheless, I think we should reduce the aid we would send to him and his potential supporters. Best bet would be a fourth of our resources, maximum.”

“Well, I guess it’s better than receiving nothing at all.”

“My apologies, Your Highness,” Shevaun bowed. “Though I’d like to give more support to the Lord Kuro as well, our situation just wouldn’t allow it. My first priorities as your faithful servant are for the preservation of your house, and of your rule as the demon lord of Cherflammen.”

“Yes, thank you for your service, Shevaun.” My chamberlain had finished putting on my clothes. What’s left was the mantle of the demon prince, which she assisted me in wearing, completing my disguise. Then, as Prince Hurion Devras IV, I resumed my role and went out to convince others to support the Lord Greg.



I couldn’t forget the Special Scholar after we talked yesterday…


Though there was a smile on his face as he explained to me the reason he was here, his poignant expression left an impression on me. It’s as if, all the doubts in my mind vanished when the Special Scholar narrated his story, including his life with our hero.

Learning their ‘friendly moments’ together made my stomach turn. I can’t believe I doubted him.


However, I’m still glad. The Special Scholar, though he was afraid his goal would be spurned by others if he told anyone the truth, he trusted me. As someone who’s laughed upon, insulted, and underestimated, it’s a great honor that someone of his stature—a living legend among the humans and beastfolk—would take time to listen and believe in me.


I…I want to know the Special Scholar more.

“Srex? Hello? Srex, are you there?”

“!!!” My train of thoughts were interrupted when I felt Tama’s hands on my head. She acted like I was inside my head, complete with knocking, which pissed me off. So I pushed her hands away.

“Welcome back,” the werewolf, Nari, greeted me once I noticed them.

“What, you think I left this world?”

“Well, Tama is worried that her friend Srexe got lost in the wind. Srexe is awfully quiet since earlier,” the orc girl explained. Honestly, I don’t know if she’s really stupid, or just acting like one; Tama’lee could be perceptive at times.

“Thinking of something?” Nari asked.

Hm…yes,” I answered.

Eh…Srex is quiet even yesterday,” Tama’lee revealed. “Our classmates say that Srexe is the one earliest at the Special Scholar’s class, and Srexe has been like that ever since!”

“Something happened?”

“Something happened, indeed, Nari!” the orc alleged. “Srexe is never quiet! Srexe is always looking for trouble! Bring back the Srexe that Tama’lee knows!”

“Will you shut up for once, Tama?” I snapped at her. “Okay, let me be clear. I was early yesterday at the Special Scholar’s class, that is true. However, if you’re thinking that something happened between us…well, uh…

“See? Something really happened! Srexe is thinking of an alibi to use—ow!

Annoyed, I threw a notebook at Tama’lee’s forehead. “I said shut the fuck up! We only talked, the Special Scholar and I!”

“Hoh…” a smirk appeared on the orc’s lips; she suddenly changed her behavior from rowdy and irritating, to that of a sly smooth-talker. “Can Srexe tell us more about the details of Srexe’s private talk with the Special Scholar?”

“Why do you made it sound like we’re engaged in an illicit affair?”

“It isn’t?”

“Do you always have horniness in your head, Tama?”

“Can’t help it! Tama’lee is an orc!”

“Alright, hold your horses then. Let me explain what the Special Scholar and I talked about yesterday.”

So, I told Tama’lee and Nari the details of the conversation I had with the Special Scholar—save for the part where he mentioned his goals about his student’s ashes. To hide it from them, I weaved a new story involving his drive to help the students graduate to senior level, and his sacrifices (lies) to make that happen. At the end, the orc was in tears, and the werewolf…well, she’s as emotionless as ever.

“Tama can’t believe that the Special Scholar is giving his all to make us pass this hellish school!” Tama’lee said in-between her sobs. “We must support the Special Scholar then!”

“True,” Nari added.

“Yes, that’s the best course of action,” I nodded to their statements. “The Special Scholar wanted the best for all his students. However, making us all pass to senior levels shouldn’t be the end of it!”

“H-Huh?” the orc stopped crying. “Wh-What does Srexe mean by that?”

“Hey guys, I got an idea…” I lowered my voice so that only the three of us could hear it. The place where we were at the moment was a busy one; a cafeteria inside the Conclave full of students out for lunch, so any conversation would be drowned by others…saved for the ones nearby.

“Oh?” Tama’lee was giggling, “What is it?”

I whispered, “Why don’t we nominate the Special Scholar as the new Lord Head Scholar of the Conclave?”


Our table was completely silent. Tama’lee and Nari just stared at me, as if I just said the most ridiculous thing they’d heard in a while. We also stopped eating; if one paid attention to us, they’d mistake us for some student-scholars playing statues.

I sought to break the awkward atmosphere, “H-Hey, why do you keep quiet, guys?”

“Outrageous,” was the werewolf’s immediate comment.

“That’s…” I could feel the hesitation from the orc, “…Tama’lee doesn’t agree. It’s dangerous!”

“Come on, guys! Think about it!” I defended my point. “The Special Scholar’s way of teaching is neither punishing nor discouraging! And his kindness is known to every one of us! Aside from that, he doesn’t even attempt to attract people to him! It would be a sin if we just let that human go without adapting his education style!”

“What’s happening to Srexe?” Tama’lee was confused and nervous. “A day ago, and Srexe doesn’t trust the Special Scholar! Now Srexe wants him to become the Lord Head Scholar?”

“A lot…of things…h-happened, yes…” I could only scratch my head. Nevertheless, I won’t simply back down from the challenge. “Well, do you want him to become the Lord Head Scholar or not?”

“I want him,” Nari confirmed.

Uuh…Tama also wants the Special Scholar to become the Lord Head Scholar…but, Tama is afraid that war would begin again.”

“That’s true…” I understand Tama’lee point, but, “…aren’t we at war, anyway? The peace is only held by an uneasy truce between the Usarveds, the Knights and the traditionalists. Besides, we’re just replacing the Lord Head Scholar. It’s not like we’re going to war if we call for new elections!”

“Keep quiet!” the werewolf reminded us.

“I’m whispering here!” I countered.

“Tama is really afraid—!!!” the orc was about to say something, but she was stopped from doing so after we heard a commotion coming from the doors of the cafeteria. The other students suddenly stood in their seats and rushed towards the exit.

Of course, we’re curious, so we followed the crowd. And just as we reached the entrance, I saw the demon lord, Prince Hurion Devras IV, arriving with his chamberlain, the former Lady Head Scholar Shevaun Ilkes. They were followed by another throng of students, possibly from the other cafeterias, as well. The doors of the cafeteria were held open for him, and the demon ladies were screaming and showering him with praises and admiration.

From my perspective, I can tell that this is going to be something big.


Not wishing to stand out, I purposefully hid myself among the crowd. I didn’t want that guy to see me.

Once he came in, Lady Scholar Ilkes borrowed a table nearby and put a chair beside it. The other student-scholars went to surround the prince—ostensibly to listen to his words, as he was helped by his chamberlain climb the table, using it as if it was a stage. Then, with a loud voice, the chamberlain called for everyone to be quiet, as the demon lord was to deliver a message for us.

“My fellow scholars!” His Highness began, “It is an honor for me to stand here in front of you as your overlord, ruler, and a model scholar as well! For all of us know the contributions my clan has brought to this esteemed institution founded by our great hero, the Lady Cassandra David.”

Claps echoed throughout the halls of the cafeteria. Students chanting, ‘Hurrah for the Prince Devras’ followed the thunderous applause. However, the prince wasn’t finished yet.

“But, I’m not here to expound on my clan’s deeds for our beloved Conclave. Indeed, I implore you—my fellow scholars—to set aside those things and listen to my words! For all of us here wanted only one thing…that is, the development of our school!”

At that, there were loud cheers and praises for the prince once again.

“For many weeks after the last election that removed our beloved Lady Head Scholar, Shevaun Ilkes, the Conclave has languished from being an institution that championed change and progress, to that of tradition and conservatism. And even before that, our beloved school would only give out punishment to those who fail, and punishment again to those who fail still! Tell me, how does that help you? Or us?”

“Yes! This system is so suffocating!” a student shouted, which was immediately agreed upon by the others.

“True! We’ve been suffocated! Forced down our throats the beliefs that limit our potential as scholars! All in the name of Tradition! Tell me, who does this school serves? Is it us scholars? Or is it the traditions that always binds us? Is this the education that Lady Cassandra David envisioned for us demons?”

“The Conclave is for the scholars!” the crowd chanted.

“Yes! The Conclave is for us, the scholars! And because of that, I—not as your overlord and ruler—but as a simple Lord Scholar, would like to call a new election for the position of the Head Scholarship of the Conclave!”

I think all of us were shocked at the prince’s pronouncement. The entire cafeteria was silent for a few moments, before the student-scholars began clapping their hands. It was a slow process; it started at the back, then the middle, and finally the clapping reached the front. However, though many of the scholars were showing support to the proposal of the demon lord, every one of us could feel the tension hanging in the air.

The Usarveds have finally made their move.

“Your Highness,” someone called out to him from the crowd at the middle, “pray, who is the person who will run against the current Lord Head Scholar?”

“All of you must’ve known this person, even though he just came here two weeks ago,” the Prince Hurion Devras narrated. “He is a new teacher, yes, but his teaching techniques and work ethic are already spreading like fire throughout the whole school! Thus, without further ado, I nominate the Special Scholar Greg Santos for the position of the Lord Head Scholarship of the Conclave!”

Immediately, murmurs and cheers erupted.

“Oh! The Special Scholar!”

“Yes, I heard his teaching style is good and entertaining!”

“I personally experienced it, and I’m loving this human!”


“Can anyone who supports his candidacy second my motion?” the prince asked the crowd. But, much to our surprise, no one dared to raise their hands to support the demon lord’s motion. It must’ve been that my fellow demons here were still afraid of what happened last election, where the Biornos used their powers to bend everyone’s will to their side.


The demon prince was desperately looking for someone who’d support the Special Scholar’s nomination. His chamberlain, however, was urging him to go down their makeshift stage, so as not to embarrass himself any further. Nevertheless, Prince Hurion Devras IV stood his ground.

“Will no one support the reforms this school desperately needs?” he called out to everyone. “The Special Scholar Greg Santos is our hope to change this oppressive system they call ‘education’! You and I know how difficult it is to study here! You and I experienced the horrors and punishments of not passing your tests! If no one will stand with him, then what will become of us?”

Still, the demon student-scholars were unmoved. They just averted their eyes whenever the prince would look at them.


This idiot…this dunce who calls himself Prince Hurion Devras, putting his name on the line for the Special Scholar’s candidacy. This…this opportunity should not be wasted!

“I second the motion!”

“!!!” Everyone’s eyes turned towards me, who was raising my hand and shouting my support. The other student-scholars were left speechless; they knew who I was. That troublesome idiot who kept on trying even though she repeatedly failed. That moron who tried to bully her classmates, but ended up bullied herself. That fool who dueled the Special Scholar and earned his wrath.

And that imbecile who thinks she can rival one of the geniuses the Conclave has ever produced…now supporting the brother of that very rival she hates.

They could not believe their eyes. Lady Srexe of the Goblins joins forces with her hated enemies—the Prince Hurion Devras and Princess Noir of House Usarved, to support the candidacy of the Special Scholar Greg Santos for the Lord Head Scholarship.

Thus, the First Quarter Storm began. (1)


***The Office of the Head Scholar, the Conclave***

The events at the school cafeterias spread like wildfire, and it eventually reached the office of the Head Scholar. The Lord Head Scholar, Emile Biorno, was forced to call an emergency meeting for all the teachers, save for the Special Scholar himself. And while waiting for the teachers to arrive, he tried to contact an acquaintance…

“What do you need?” the voice from the other side asked.

“Gaius!” the old scholar bellowed through his telepathy. “You told me that I should accept that human, Greg Santos, to my school! Now, he and those Usarveds are conspiring to depose me!”

“Correction, Emile Biorno. I did not tell you that you should accept him, I merely suggested that you do, since that human is your beloved hero’s former teacher. I thought his knowledge about Cassandra’s life will be a big help to your school.”

“Now you’re passing the blame on me?” Emile cried out. “I can’t believe I trusted you!”

“I’m always looking for ways to help those people I use, including demons,” the former god defended his actions. “It’s just that, you miscalculated, Emile Biorno. Who would’ve thought that your orders to intimidate Greg Santos, and the Usarveds, backfired to you? And why would you do that stupid thing in the first place? The Usarved princess, though she’s young and is a lady, is the demon lord. Of course, she wouldn’t arrive at her position without going through a lot of actual threats and intimidations.”

“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” the Head Scholar repeatedly slammed his table. “Ah, Gracchio…where’s that demon? I told him to do something about the support for that Special Scholar!”

“Emile Biorno, watch your deeds. They’re the reasons for your downfall, you know?”

“Shut up! What do you mean by that? I already told that idiot, Gracchio, of what will happen if we fall! Did he not understand that? That dreamer should do something about this!”

“Well, in any case, I can’t do anything much about your situation now, Emile Biorno,” Gaius told him. “You and your ilk had their moments, yet you squandered those away. However, I’m not as heartless as others, see? I got one last solution for the pinch you’re in; are you willing to listen to me?”

The Lord Head Scholar countered, “Why should I?”

“Come on now, Emile Biorno, you know you’re the one at fault here,” the former god reasoned. “If you didn’t provoke the Special Scholar and the Usarved girl, then you won’t end up scrambling for support. Even then, you still push me away when I try to help you. Calm down, and let your reason prevail.”

The Lord Head Scholar took a deep breath, and sat down to calm his nerves. “What’s your proposal, then?”

“Fight for your position, of course. Do not let the Special Scholar grab it from you, or your clan will be finished.”

“Easy to say, but it is hard to do. Do you think the powers of the incubi and the succubi are endless?”

“I’m aware,” Gaius answered. “Your kind is pretty useless once you reached the old age. And because of that, would you like me to give you weapons?”

“Weapons? Here? At the Conclave? That’s ridiculous!” Emile Biorno couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Since its foundation, the Conclave had been an ‘arms-free’ zone; even the armies of the Usarveds, the Knights, and the other clans respected that unspoken rule.

“Well, unless you got other ideas, then you better spit it out. Besides, it’s not that the moment your supporters bear weapons would be the start of the bloodshed. Of course, an order from the higher-ups—for example, you—should be issued first, before the bloodletting would begin. Otherwise, you’ll use those weapons I’ll give you to intimidate your enemies.”

The Lord Head Scholar Emile Biorno fell silent. He was weighing his options. As a traditionalist, he was aware that their hero, Cassandra David, wanted the Conclave as a place for safety and learning. And as the Lord Head Scholar, he was in mood to break that tradition of their school since its beginning. But, as it was an emergency situation, it called for an extraordinary measure to quell any resistance to him.

“Alright. Send me your weapons then.”

Author's Note:  (1) The First Quarter Storm in our history refers to the first quarter of the year 1971, when thousands of students--trying to protest the rising costs of living--ended up rallying, defying and fighting against government forces in a bid to have a change in the increasingly autocratic regime of Ferdinand Marcos.