How To Live As An Academy Extra Villain

✦ Chapter 92 ✦

「Translator – Creator」

“Alright, heave! One, two… three!”

—THUD!

In a dimly lit forest clearing, a group of robed individuals was gathered around a small mound, engaged in the unusual task of digging up a grave. 

When the end of a shovel hit something solid, they paused and began to carefully clear the surrounding dirt. As the shape of a coffin became fully visible, they coordinated their efforts and lifted it out in one motion.

“Phew. We’ve unearthed it,” one of them said.

“Good work. Can we confirm?”

“The seam between the lid and the body is quite loose. It seems pretty certain…”

In response to Cecila’s question, Dante replied, giving the lid a gentle push. Despite the seemingly minimal effort, the lid wobbled significantly.

“Still, better confirm thoroughly just in case. Get out the magic detection orb.”

Following Cecila’s words, Dante retrieved a small, egg-sized white orb from his pocket. It was similar to the ones used by the Inquisitors during the demon attack at the academy last time.

However, unlike the almost entirely blackened one from that time, this orb was only faintly tinted gray.

Dante circled the area around the burial mound while holding the orb, but its color never returned to pure white; this meant the area had a slight residual buildup of undispersed magic energy which could malignantly warp anything affected by it.

Like a corpse inside the grave, for instance.

“…In that case…” Cecila signaled, and her companions quickly formed a circle around the coffin.

“Dante.”

“Yes.”

The summoned paladin approached the coffin. Unlike just nudging it before, this time he firmly grasped the lid with both hands and pried it open.

The previously loose seam couldn’t withstand his strength for even a moment, and the lid flew off.

“Hmm…”

After getting the first look inside, Dante let out a light sigh and habitually made the sign of the cross over his forehead and chest with his hand.

Inside the coffin lay the serene face of a middle-aged man, seemingly in peaceful slumber. However, his pulse was non-existent, and no breath escaped his lips.

His clothes had rotted into rags strewn about, but in stark contrast, the man’s body was spotlessly pristine without a single blemish. Not a single hair remained.

His completely hairless body, including his head and eyebrows, resembled a plucked chicken or pig after slaughter.

At the corners of the man’s mouth were traces of something dried and dark red in color.

And when Dante gently lifted his lips, unusually long, razor-sharp protruding fangs were revealed.

“As expected. Carelessly creating mounds like this leads to corpses turning into vampires. Honestly…,” Cecila muttered with a frown. “At least we found it before it got too old. This should be manageable with our current tools. Dante, hand me the stake.”

“Yes.”

Following her words, Dante handed something shiny from his pocket to Cecila.

“What’s that?”  

“A stake made of pure silver. Essential for dealing with vampires.”

Without even turning towards me, Cecila answered my question. She then chanted an incantation while gripping the stake, imbuing it with holy power.

After finishing her incantation, she approached the sleeping vampire. Without a moment’s hesitation, she drove the silver stake directly into its heart.

“KYAAAAAAHH!! KYAAAAAAHH!!”

The moment the stake pierced its heart, the vampire’s eyes shot open; the sight was chilling, with the sclera absent and the eyes entirely black; the vampire’s piercing shrieks echoed throughout the mountain, but thanks to the stake in its chest, it could only helplessly thrash its limbs without putting up any real resistance.

“KYAAAAHH!! KYAAAAAHH!!”

As the screams continued, Cecila grimaced and stepped back. Finally, the vampire’s death throes began to subside. When silence fell once more, Dante approached and kicked the vampire to confirm its death.

“It has definitely perished.”

“Good work. Take out the stake and give it to me, we’ll just cremate the body here. It’s better to cremate it late than never.”

Following her instructions, Dante removed the stake from the vampire’s chest. 

A gaping hole remained where the stake had been, but peculiarly not a single drop of blood oozed out. The part that had been buried in the flesh had turned pitch black from absorbing magic energy.

The priests doused the corpse with oil and set it ablaze, while Cecila took the stake and recited another incantation. Gradually, the blackened stake regained its original luster.

“Can’t you just cut off its head or use regular magic to burn it?” I asked.

“You could, but then the magic energy the vampire absorbed would just disperse back into the environment. Creatures affected by magic energy must be purified with holy power,” She explained without looking up. 

“But you seem so familiar with this process. I thought they only teach proper monster hunting techniques from the second year at the Academy.”

“It’s similar to what we learn, but I’ve always been interested in this stuff, so I picked it up early.”

Cecila handed the purified stake back to Dante. We cleaned up the area and headed back to the nearby village, where the entire population was waiting for us outside the gate.

“My lords…what has become of it…?”

“As I mentioned earlier, we confirmed that the village chief’s corpse had transformed into a vampire.”

“Oh my…this cannot be…”

Upon hearing Dante’s words, the former village chief’s wife clutched her forehead and fainted backwards, barely caught by what seemed to be her children.

“So… what will happen to those who were bitten…?”

“It hasn’t been too long, and since the main body is dead, they’ll be fine after taking the medicine we’ve given them and resting for a few days.”

“But what of the chief? If he became a monster that harmed people, does that mean he cannot enter heaven?”

“The chief’s soul departed long ago. What troubled you was merely his remaining physical body. It was already no longer human, but a beast. If he committed no sin, then he has already found rest.”

“Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness indeed…”

An elderly villager clutched his chest upon hearing Cecila’s words.

“You were fortunate we came this time, but if it had been a few days later, much damage would have been done. It is clearly against doctrine to cremate without a priest’s blessing, so why did you disobey?”

“…The chief’s last wish was to be buried in that land, and we are so remote that we have no priest here,” one villager explained hesitantly.

“Because of that, this calamity occurred. Do not interpret the teachings to suit yourselves again. If you don’t want to see another friend or family member turn into a monster, follow the rules,” Cecila admonished sternly.

“Yes, yes…we will be mindful…”

The entire village bowed their heads at Cecila’s scolding. She certainly carried an indescribable air of authority.

She didn’t purposefully put on airs, yet people naturally gravitated towards her leadership. Too friendly to be seen as superior, yet too distant to be considered an equal. In many ways, she was quite the enigma.

“What do you think? Wasn’t I pretty cool just now?” 

Cecila glanced back at me with one eye slightly narrowed in a playful wink.

Combined with that casually flippant demeanor of hers, she truly was an inscrutable person.

“I’ll speak to my lord about increasing the frequency of the priest’s visits, even if he can’t be stationed here permanently.”

“Oh, we are most grateful…”

The new village chief bowed his head at my words. We then departed with their sendoff.

Despite the initial tension, the journey through several villages had been relatively uneventful. 

We had only encountered minor threats like goblin nests, ratmen colonies, and a few ghouls that had escaped from their graves. The spontaneous vampire incident we just handled was the most significant event so far. 

Other than that, we checked on the villagers, treated the sick, and listened to their grievances. 

It felt almost as if the sinister events from the castle were nothing but a distant memory, leaving no trace behind. We had hoped to find some lingering evidence of the conspiracy in the more remote areas of the territory, but perhaps Sarah’s incident was the last of it.

As we reached the final settlement on our itinerary, Cecila’s eyes lit up at the sight of a building with a cross in the village center.

“There’s an actual chapel here? Edwin, I’ll be back shortly.”

Spotting the cruciform building at the village center, Cecila perked up and excused herself, as if she’d been waiting for this.

She seemed quite devoutly faithful, so the existence of a chapel after several days without a proper place to pray appeared to delight her.

Two of the Inquisitors followed after her, while I began my usual routine in this new village as well.

But the atmosphere here was strikingly different from the other villages so far.

Rural life is typically dreary by nature. Farmers toil under the scorching sun, battling weeds and pests to cultivate unforgiving soil. Hunters frequently come back empty-handed after long days. They take turns standing guard at night, and when monsters invade, the village is on high alert for days.

Men often drown their lack of stability in alcohol, taking out their frustrations on their wives and children. 

Such gloom lingers like a sticky residue, yet this village lacked any trace of it.

The men guarding the entrance, the elders sitting under the large tree, and the children playing with their hands—all were bright and cheerful. Laughter was a constant here, and they greeted us warmly, unlike the usual weary villagers who see travelers as potential problem solvers.

Like the occasional well-educated, cultured pilgrims passing through their village now and then. But no matter which residents I approached, none came forward with any notable reports or grievances to share.

They simply smiled wordlessly and shook their heads, as if everything was perfectly fine.

Unable to glean anything substantial, I decided to rejoin Cecila and entered the chapel where she had gone.

She was kneeling with clasped hands before the center aisle between the long pews.

Even as my footsteps loudly echoed across the stone floor, she remained utterly unmoving.

After several minutes, she finally rose from her knees and noticed me.

“Edwin? When did you arrive? You should have said something.”

“It’s fine. I just got here. I didn’t want to disturb your prayer.”

“Oh, it was just some meditation. No need to be so cautious. Did you need something? Let’s talk outside…”

—CRASH!

As Cecila stood and turned, there was a sound like something falling from a great height and shattering on the floor.

Whipping her head back, her expression froze in alarm.

Following her gaze, I finally saw the sight that so shook her:

The shattered remains of a cross, smashed on the floor.

— End of Chapter —

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