Chapter 5: The Demon Lord at Miskatonic High School (3)

Lars glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you planning to follow me around all day, or am I going to have to get rid of you the hard way?"

"Oh, come on. I may not be the best company in the world, but you know what they say — better bad company than no company at all, right?" Niall Al O’Tep replied, following him every step of the way through the long corridors of Miskatonic High School.

"That’s exactly the opposite."

The bell had rung only a few minutes earlier, marking the start of lunch break before afternoon classes resumed.

That morning, shortly before they split up and headed to their respective classes, Camila had told him to meet her in the cafeteria for lunch with her and her three friends.

Which was exactly why Lars had decided to head for the opposite end of the school.

Unlike his wives, who had been born human, he had no need for food at all.

He still ate something every now and then, mostly out of curiosity or simply because he enjoyed the taste, never out of necessity.

"Well, fortunately, that’s not a problem, since I’m not bad company—"

Niall cut himself off when Lars suddenly stopped and he walked straight into his back.

"Oh, so you’ve finally decided to listen to me. Like I was saying... mind sharing a few jokes from your repertoire? As you’ve probably noticed, I could really use the help."

But Lars completely ignored him.

His attention was fixed on a group of boys just ahead.

They had just emerged from a side corridor and blocked his path.

The biggest of them was the one who spoke.

He was remarkably tall, towering over Lars, with broad shoulders and thick, fiery red hair meticulously combed back.

He strode forward with confidence, stopping almost face-to-face with Lars and looking down at him with a contemptuous, challenging glare.

"You’re new around here, aren’t you? Of course you are. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had the nerve to show up with Camila von Rosen."

He placed a hand on Lars’s shoulder, then leaned in close to his ear.

"Here’s some friendly advice. Stay as far away from her as you can if you don’t want things to end badly for you."

"P-Please, leave Lesley alone. He couldn’t have known Camila was your girlfriend!" Niall cut in, clasping his hands together in a pleading gesture toward the red-haired boy.

His girlfriend...?

Lars sharpened his sense of smell.

No. There’s no trace of Camila’s scent on this idiot.

Then it clicked.

Ah, right... Ingrid warned me that Camila has a whole crowd of persistent, pushy admirers. What a pain.

Lars brushed the boy’s hand away with the slightest flick, as if shooing away a gnat.

The movement looked harmless enough, yet the boy clenched his teeth and clutched the hand Lars had brushed away with his other one.

At that, Niall started flailing his arms in exaggerated panic, as if he were drowning.

"Psst... hey, Loris, try not to do anything reckless," he whispered. "That’s Ryan Foster, captain of Miskatonic’s rugby team! If you piss him off, you’ll only make things worse for yourself. Just tell him you’ll stay away from Camila and we can leave it at that."

"Believe me, I’m doing my best to stay away from her. But apparently she’s my sister, so there’s not much I can do about it."

"Camila’s your sister?! Don’t bullshit me!" Ryan snapped. "If she’s your sister, then I’m Napoleon Bonaparte!"

Lars looked him over carefully for a moment, then shook his head.

"No. Napoleon was shorter. And more importantly, he wasn’t this stupid."

Niall gently placed a hand on Lars’s shoulder and shook his head with obvious regret.

"It was brief, but I’m really glad I got to know you, my friend."

Ryan’s face turned redder than his own hair, while the others in the group kept snickering at the insult Lars had just thrown at him.

"You’re messing with the wrong person, you son of a bitch! Be grateful we’re at school and I’m not about to lose my spot on the team over a piece of shit like you, or you’d already be on the floor with both legs broken!"

"You’re the lucky one. Believe me."

Ryan clenched his fists, his muscles tensing beneath his school uniform.

His chest swelled as he took a deep breath.

He seemed to calm down, at least a little.

He brought his face within inches of Lars’s again and stared straight into his eyes.

"If you value your life, don’t let me see you with Camila again."

With that, he turned and walked back toward his friends. They parted to let him through, then fell in behind him.

Once they were alone, Niall slumped limply to the floor and let out an absurdly long sigh of relief.

"Damn it, warn me next time you’re planning to do something stupid, like openly challenging Ryan and his whole group! You could’ve gotten us killed!"

"If I were that easy to kill, I wouldn’t be here."

"Maybe you wouldn’t! I would!"

"All the more reason to stay away from me."

The ringing of Lars’s phone cut their conversation short.

When he pulled it from his pocket and looked at the screen, he let out a long, exasperated sigh.

He still hadn’t quite figured out how cell phones worked, but the little Ingrid had taught him, combined with the words on the screen — Call from Camila — was more than enough.

"Good thing she didn’t call a minute ago," Niall commented with a nervous little smile. "Well? Aren’t you going to answer?"

Lars kept staring at the screen for a few seconds. Then he dropped the phone to the floor and crushed it under his foot.

"Are you crazy? Why did you do that?"

Lars looked down at what was left of the phone and shrugged.

"How careless of me. It slipped. What a shame."