My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 902 - 903: Must Go

The page program existed purely to let Aether Academy students acquire hands-on experience in the real world. Enrollment was available from the second year all the way to the last, although second-years could opt out if they chose.

Yet with the demon race launching their war declaration, the academy now required its top-performing students to participate without exception.

This setup offered them a chance to confront tough challenges, build practical skills, and sharpen their abilities.

Still, the academy's current students possessed overwhelming strength. Having survived the brutal trials of the World Dungeon, nearly all had advanced to the fourth class without grasping the basics of earlier levels.

For that very cause, this program was essential. The majority of second- and third-year students were set to enter the page program.

It aimed to solidify their base and enhance their grasp of this recently gained might.

Besides, the goddess races urgently required fierce warriors leading the charge in their conflict.

What finer choice than dispatching those at the fourth class, capable of toppling peaks and razing urban centers?

Now, what exactly defined the page program?

It boiled down to this: young talents serving as attendants to seasoned and superior figures.

They would watch closely and absorb knowledge. In theory, it ought to be straightforward, given that most students hailed from prestigious lineages. They could simply head back to their estates and shadow their family elders in routine duties. At least, that's how it worked in peaceful eras.

During wartime, however, things grew far more complicated.

Participants would head straight to the battlefront.

Moreover, it served as a means to forge connections. Fortune might pair you with a celebrated figure, allowing direct lessons from them.

Such as a legendary hero, a lofty aristocrat, a devoted paladin, or perhaps a mighty grand duke or even a sovereign from a dominant realm. The options stretched wide.

Damon had zero interest in such arrangements. His own grandfather held the rank of grand duke. He planned to attach himself to the man's forces and secure a lofty command post simply by appealing to his wealthy and influential kin.

Did favoritism through family ties count as wrong? Absolutely, unless it worked in his favor—then it felt just and proper.

No one forced others into poverty at birth.

"Rest easy, Headmaster. No need to decide for me. I'll end up in a tough, perilous war outpost alongside my grandfather, who's hit the pinnacle of the seventh class advancement, and as his sole grandson." He stressed his grandfather's immense power and his unique status as the only heir.

"Yes, we're aware..." the headmaster replied casually, his face remaining composed.

Damon gave a slow nod, eyeing the academy senate.

"Conflicts drag on for years... you must see that... True, the page program grants credits through to graduation, but... consider my loving family. Personally, I'd jump at the chance, yet they... they'd never permit it."

He lifted his gaze, adopting a far-off, sorrowful, and valiant look, as though nothing grieved him more than staying safe instead of braving death for the goddess races.

"Alas, a champion like myself, the famed holy child of legend... Duty calls me to my grandfather's forces. I'm a genius tactician. The elder relies on me... oh... what a shame, such a shame... Still, enroll me to defend Lumos, the heart of my grandfather's domain."

The elderly headmaster shot Damon a look. Lumos stood as the most secure location. Indeed, demons might overrun the land without it ever facing combat.

Reaching it demanded the empire's total collapse for any enemy army. Damon was essentially requesting a cozy return to his homeland for leisure.

"Of course, I always saw you as bold and dauntless... That's precisely why the war tacticians, the elite leaders, including me, the principals of other academies, the empire itself, the temple, and monarchs from numerous kingdoms, all pushed for your placement in this frontline unit."

Damon's gaze sharpened with doubt. How could someone insignificant like him enter discussions among global leaders? He ranked as a mere footnote. How... how... Granted, he'd pulled off wild feats before, but that was his reckless youth. Back then, he lacked any true practical insight.

He drew in a steadying breath.

"Before I respond... Did the Elf King Kadelas nominate me for this?"

The headmaster averted his eyes uneasily, fiddling with his beard.

"Well, he championed this plan vigorously and argued that including a prodigy like you was vital for its triumph."

Damon pressed his lips together, giving a curt nod.

He let out a laugh.

"Hmm, got it... I merely kissed his daughter a handful of times. Never shared a bed with her.

I complimented his wife's allure just once... I tricked his daughter into faking a pregnancy only once... still... how could he sink to such depths... how can someone hold such a grudge... alright... alright... next encounter with his daughter... I'll pass along a note..."

The headmaster wanted no part in this mess, and the senate's utter quiet suggested they were dumping it all on him.

Damon eyed him briefly.

"Who other than him pushed for this... the empire... ah, I get it... excellent, excellent... he has a daughter as well."

He remained clueless about Damon's schemes, and truthfully preferred staying out of it, yet one final point lingered.

"Your grandfather endorsed it too."

Damon's eyes bulged in shock.

"That crafty old fox. Alright, alright. He has a granddaughter too... actually two, though one’s my sister, so that's off-limits... you catch my drift..."

The headmaster rubbed his forehead, lifting a hand to silence Damon. He had no desire to endure more of this nonsense.

"In any case... Seras Blade requested you specifically, and since she endorsed you originally while providing your golden ticket, your page assignment links to her—unless she objects, which she obviously doesn't, eager as she is for your arrival."

Damon opened his mouth to protest, but the headmaster gestured dismissively, teleporting him away with a slim dossier clutched in his grip, sealed by a rune-marked emblem reading Confidential.

He paused briefly, then scanned the opening sheet.

He shut his eyes and tilted his face toward the sun, wearing a look of utter despair.

"I’m going to die."