Broken Possessors of Infinite Regression Academy

Hello everyone, It’s VarieTL. Thanks to the support in my Ko-Fi there will be 2 extra chapter today. Thank You for your support!

In this world, demons are a race that inherently lives for an exceptionally long time, and they grow stronger in proportion to the time they indulge in blood and violence. In other words, the longer a demon lives, the more their physical prowess is supported. Weaker demons often fall prey to their kin before they can live long.

But that’s not all. As demons live longer, their bodies also become more resilient. Their physical strength increases with time, allowing them to slice through rock with their claws and bite through steel with their teeth.

These physical traits, combined with the demons’ culture that reveres strength and seeks blood and violence, gave rise to a culture of mocking armor. It became a widespread belief that a truly strong demon should be able to withstand attacks solely with their physical abilities rather than relying on armor. This belief rapidly spread among the higher-ranking demons, who were easily swayed by its seemingly perfect logic, and soon, a culture of mocking those who wore armor as cowards emerged.

The changes in clothing styles also stemmed from this mockery. Since demons viewed blood and violence as a daily occurrence, they believed that wearing highly revealing clothing in everyday life would further display their strength. Once this perception began to change, society underwent a rapid transformation. In just a few hundred years, exposing one’s body became regarded as a privilege of the strong throughout the entire demon realm.

Strong demons wore more revealing clothing, while weaker demons wore less. Thus, it was natural for the Demon King, who stood at the pinnacle of all demons, to be almost naked. The only exceptions to this were demons like succubi, who traditionally wore minimal clothing, or vampires, who historically preferred nobility over violence.

“So that’s why the Demon King is wearing such revealing clothing?”

“…Regrettably, yes.”

I lowered my gaze. The dress, so tight it seemed ready to burst, barely covered half of her massive, almost violently large breasts, and the slit on the side went up past her hip bones to near her ribs. The only other clothing she wore were black stockings that reached midway up her thighs and an opera glove on her right hand. Her smooth sides indicated she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

In terms of exposure, it was less than Rosalia’s ‘Saint’s Robe,’ but that outfit was special in its purpose and thus didn’t count.

“Then why are you embarrassed now? You’re a demon too. Isn’t that outfit normal for you?”

I pretended not to know as I subtly probed. I already knew why she was embarrassed. The person inside wasn’t the real Demon King but someone possessing her body. Until now, I thought it was highly likely, but her behavior confirmed it a hundred percent.

‘This will also let me know what the Demon King thinks of me.’

Whether she thinks of me as just a suddenly appearing character like Rosalia or as a fellow possessor in the same situation as herself.

“That is…”

The Demon King hesitated for a while before cautiously speaking, as if she had finally thought of an excuse.

“…You are a human male, are you not? Your values are entirely different from those of demons. By human standards, you would see my attire as no different from that of a cheap prostitute on the streets.”

‘So, they think I’m just a character,’ I thought.

It made sense; who could imagine there would be another possessor besides themselves? Before meeting Priscilla, I thought I was the only one brought to this world. I had no idea that other possessors were in similar situations.

“…Now, do you believe me? If not, look, I have nothing on me. I’m wearing such clothing and revealing myself entirely to you. Can you still not believe me?”

The Demon King spread her arms slightly. Unlike our first meeting, she was completely defenseless now, pleading with her expression for me to trust her.

She didn’t want to kill me, after all. From our first meeting, she had insisted she would never harm me. That sentiment surely hadn’t changed. I lowered my sword, Eternity, and smiled slightly.

“You say it’s because I’m human, but that seems like a lie.”

“That’s not—”

“It’s because you’re not the Demon King but a possessor, right? A human possessing the Demon King’s body. It’s only natural you can’t adapt to demon culture.”

“…!!!!!!” Her pink pupils widened in shock. She wore a look of disbelief, as if she couldn’t fathom what she had just heard. With a trembling voice, the Demon King stammered out a question.

“How… how did you…?”

“How, you ask? Because I’m just like—”

Before I could finish my sentence, the Demon King rushed at me, tackling me with her body. Reflexively, I braced myself, planting my feet firmly. I almost fell backward in an undignified roll.

The Demon King, who had wrapped herself around me, was trembling all over.

“Are you truly… are you truly a human like me? Not a mere imitation that repeats assigned actions, but a real human who can think and act on their own?”

“Yes. I only read the prologue of this novel before being pulled in. Talk about bad luck. I shouldn’t have bothered with a romance fantasy in the first place.”

Romance fantasy. Prologue. Pulled in. The Demon King silently screamed with every incomprehensible word that came out of my mouth, words that no character in this world should understand.

After a while, the Demon King buried her face in my shoulder.

“Just for a moment… please, just for a moment. Let me stay like this. Thinking I’ve finally met a real human, not a fake, has made my legs weak…”

It was true. If not for the arm around my neck, her body seemed on the verge of collapse. I wrapped an arm around her waist to support her.

Even though I wondered why the tone remained the same even after revealing that I was a possessor, it’s something I can ask later. Given the situation where I don’t even know how many times she has regressed, it makes sense. The Demon King murmured almost as if on the verge of tears.

“It’s been so long… Such a long and arduous time… To finally meet someone I can open my heart to… How long has it been…”

As the pressure from the embrace around my neck intensified, it felt like my chest, not my throat, was starting to feel choked up. It was due to her breasts, probably even larger than Priscilla’s, which didn’t even compare. After enduring the pressure on my chest, when the sound of sobbing and swallowing tears gradually subsided, I finally spoke.

“How many times has it been this time?”

“This is the ninety-first regression after having regressed eighty-nine times…”

The Demon King reflexively answered, then stopped and looked up as if something was odd.

“H-How do you know that? Were you also like me, going back in time?”

“No, not me, but two others. They also regained control after meeting me.”

Moreover, if this is the 90th time, it’s the most after Priscilla. Assuming they regressed every five years, that’s nearly 450 years living as the Demon King, so it’s understandable why that kind of tone stuck with her.

“Who else was in the same situation? Who are you talking about?”

“You know them. Priscilla Agnes and Rosalia Leone de Micaela.”

“…… the Wizard and the slave of the Saint that accompany the Hero.”

The Demon King seemed to perceive Aria as the Saint rather than Rosalia. Well, the only interaction they had was Rosalia being stripped of her position and Aria being brought forth as the Saint, after which they fought each other.

“But why aren’t you like us? I mean, not that you should have been like us! Just curious…”

“I don’t know.”

Truly, I didn’t know. Maybe because the original was destined to die, and I possessed the child instead. Or there could be other reasons I couldn’t even guess at. It was something I couldn’t know right now.

“These demons, I tell you…”

The Demon King stood there embracing me, still not taking a breath. It seemed like the pent-up sorrow of not being able to properly converse all this time had burst forth at once.

I quietly listened to the voice filled with regret, then cautiously interrupted after what felt like several hours had passed.

“So, why did you come here? Is it just to see me? What would happen if you were found out?”

“I can guarantee you won’t be found out. I’m much stronger than that dragon here. Moreover, deceiving their magic or senses is child’s play. The fact that I’ve come here won’t be recorded in the surveillance magic either, so rest assured. And… there’s actually one more reason.”

“What is it?”

“Eventually there will come a time when you have to deal with the commander of the corps.”

“Of course.”

The Demon King was no longer the enemy, but the legion commanders beneath her needed to be dealt with. Just in case there was another possessor, after all.

“I’ve already made arrangements before his arrival, so why not preemptively kill one of them now?”

.

.

.

The Fourth Legion Commander of the Demon King’s army, also known as the vampire lord, Rakul, consolidated the power given by the Demon King for the last time. His heart was pounding several times harder than usual. The power bestowed by the Demon King was truly immense. In this state, he felt like he could defeat all the other legion commanders. It was tempting to entertain such thoughts.

He had been warned that if the vessel was insufficient, he would be consumed in turn, but Rakul paid no mind. As a vampire lord, he couldn’t possibly be lacking as a vessel.

“It’s impossible.”

Rakul remembered the expressions of the other legion commanders who had watched as he received the power. With a sense of soaring pride, he reaffirmed his loyalty to the Demon King.

“I will repay this favor with infinite loyalty.”

He thought about the next throne he would receive upon returning after dealing with the nuisance. It wouldn’t even come close to repaying the immense favor he had received. What would be a good material for the next throne? Since the throne made entirely of maiden bones had been rejected outright, better materials were needed.

“A child and its parents would suffice.”

If he could make the parents kill their own child and then decorate the throne with their despairing expressions as he severed their throats, it would make for a splendid throne dripping with blood.

Rakul ordered his subordinates to bring about a hundred pregnant women and their husbands. Then, he transformed into a mist of blood and crossed the dimensional portal created by the Demon King. It was specially crafted to allow infiltration without being detected by human magic. Even as he crossed over, Rakul trembled with gratitude for the Demon King’s favor.

Upon arriving in a long corridor, Rakul surveyed his surroundings.

“It’s a replica modeled after a dungeon.”

Rakul immediately recognized that the intricately crafted dungeon was a fake. It was somewhat displeasing, but the Demon King’s orders took precedence over his personal feelings.

He detected the warmth and life reactions nearby. His current target was a certain individual named Mira Crate. A man who had essentially defeated the Maker and Leptarukus, and withstood the pheromones of Astaroth.

The expressions of the three who had been mentioned as failures were quite interesting. They were all distorted with embarrassment and dishonor.

“Scum.”

Rakul was convinced that their failure meant they were inferior beings. How poorly must they have managed their tasks to fail to kill a mere human, prompting the Demon King to issue direct orders?

“There he is.”

Having detected life reactions not far away, Rakul rushed forward in his blood mist form. In this state, unless exposed directly to sunlight, he was virtually undetectable, especially in an artificial dungeon devoid of proper light sources.

Rakul boldly rushed straight toward his target. As he attempted to penetrate the man’s body in his blood mist state, planning to materialize within him and cause him to burst…

“What?!”

“With what audacity do you barge in like this? Do you think I’m blind?”

In an instant, a blade was precisely lodged in his physical form within his blood mist. Rakul was astonished. Not only had his blood mist been detected, but his physical form had also been stabbed accurately?

Pulling out the blade, which would cause only minor damage, like being pricked by a twig, but was still a remarkably surprising act in itself, Rakul felt anger rise within him.

“A vampire lord, was it? I’ve never fought one of your kind before… Well, I’ll find out soon enough. But first, let’s address what I’m curious about.”

Realizing that his blood was attempting to flow out through the blade, Rakul exerted force in his body to prevent the reverse flow. Mira smirked.

“Resisting, are we? Just as expected of a lord?”

“You!”

Filled with rage, Rakul attempted to release his power, but Mira’s actions were quicker. His black pupils sank into his eyes, and a chilling voice flowed through his lips.

—Your blood is needed.

At the same time, the blood that composed Rakul began to boil.