I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple

In truth, Alderson had never wanted to install a self-destruction protocol. That much had always been clear. What creator would willingly carve such a command into something they had built with their own hands?

”It could be dangerous, Alderson.” The warning had come from a green-haired man whose hair hung down like seaweed over his shoulders. It was Assad, the protector of the Badnikers and the Green Archmage.

Alderson respected him. Not just because Assad outranked him as a mage, or because he was older. Alderson admired his grasp of the arcane, his accomplishments in magical theory, and the role he had played in preserving imperial peace long before pledging loyalty to the Badniker family.

”May I ask your reason?”

”In the grand scheme, armored troops are just golems. Mechanical life is dangerous. Unlike humans, they cannot make decisions,” Assad replied. ”They only follow orders. What if someone else besides you took command? Have you ever considered that possibility?”

Alderson shook his head. ”That is never going to happen.”

Assad’s lips curled into a faint sneer, tinged with disinterest. ”There’s no such thing as never. That’s one of the few truths I’ve learned from living a long, dull life. Alderson, this is my advice. What you do with it is your choice. Still, I’ll say it plainly. At the very least, build in a safeguard.”

...

Now Alderson found himself recalling that moment. A rueful smile brushed his lips. You were right, Assad.

Every armored soldier in the sky had been supposed to explode. That had been the plan. Yet, no explosions came.

Alderson, who had shut his eyes to avoid witnessing the annihilation of the White Knights, opened them and looked up at the sky. His voice caught in his throat. Even the steady discipline of an Archmage faltered under the shock. Had he been less composed, he would have cried out in horror. The sight of the White Knights still intact gave him such a shock.

”Why?” he muttered.

Unlike immobilization, the self-destruction command operated much more intuitively. It required only a thread of his mana to reach the armored troops’ cores, press a specific button, and end it all.

Naturally, only one person in the world knew where those buttons were—Alderson. Moreover, each armored soldier’s button was hidden in a different place.

Suddenly, a frantic voice pierced the air from the side. ”They won’t self-destruct!”

”Princess Perist?” Alderson already knew she was there. He had overheard her entire conversation with Glenn. He concluded that, although she had set all this in motion, she was not their enemy right now.

”What do you mean they won’t self-destruct? What does that—”

Perist’s face drained of color as she whispered, ”The self-destruct devices attached to the armored troops were all removed.”

”What?”

”Deathberry... dismantled and analyzed the armored troops... just messing around... I wondered why they had such a function...” Suddenly, she collapsed to the floor, sobbing. ”I’m sorry, sorry...”

Alderson could not even bring himself to blame her. The edges of his vision darkened. ”This can’t be happening...”

Unfortunately, there was no time to despair.

A deafening crash shattered the air. Before he could react, the armored troops had descended again, striking the barrier at point-blank range.

The collapse of his Platinum Wall accelerated.

Alderson realized time was running out. If the self-destruct command failed, only one option remained. ”Student Arin!”

”Y-yes?”

”Take the students downstairs and get out of this building, now!” he ordered.

Arin’s eyes widened in hesitation. ”But—”

Alderson’s sharp cry cut her off. ”Listen to me!”

Though Alderson was known as the academy’s most eccentric figure, Arin had never seen him angry. He was somewhat bad-tempered and had poor taste, but no one truly hated him. Everyone understood how deeply this old man loved the academy.

He shouted, ”I will temporarily drive out all the dolls in the building. The barrier won’t hold for long. You have to run while you still can!”

Arin’s voice trembled. ”I... I’m not leaving.”

”What?”

”Your Highness.”

Ignoring him, Arin stepped toward the princess, who was still sobbing on the floor. When she met Perist’s crimson eyes, her own gaze didn’t waver. ”I still don’t know why you are here, Your Highness, but judging by your reaction, I’m guessing we are no longer enemies.”

”T-that is correct, but...”

”Then you should deliver the dean’s message to the students below, Your Highness.”

Perist looked at Arin with trembling eyes.

”Please, Your Highness,” Arin urged.

”What about you?”

Arin smiled faintly at the unexpected question. ”I have a job to do.”

”I-I understand.” Perist rose with a choked sob and stumbled down the stairs.

Alderson, who had been watching in silence, asked quietly, ”Why did you do that?”

”Her Highness feels guilty. That doesn’t mean she’s innocent, but—”

”Not that. I mean, why aren’t you leaving?” he clarified.

Arin smiled again. ”I am your assistant, Dean Alderson.”

He shook his head when he saw her trembling smile. He should have forced her to leave. He just didn’t have the time to talk her into it. Instead, he asked gravely, ”Do you remember the magic formula for the Platinum Wall?”

”Of course.”

”There’s a weak spot. The armored troops will concentrate their attack there. If you’ve memorized the formula completely, you’ll be able to patch it. It won’t hold forever, but it should buy us time. I want you to cover the opposite side.”

”Yes, sir!” Arin dashed toward the opposite side of Alderson.

As she ran, her legs nearly gave out beneath her. That’s when she realized her body was shaking like a palm tree in a storm.

”Ha, hahaha...” It hit her late. What the hell had she just done?

Trying to look cool? You idiot. In truth, she had wanted to run. She had wanted to hand everything over to Alderson and flee down the stairs like the others. SA young student like her wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

Why hadn’t she? Was it conscience? Or a desperate attempt to act brave?

No. It was something else. She had seen Alderson’s back as he prepared to face this alone, and it had looked lonely.

I am out of my mind. Who am I to pity him? This is the Purple Archmage, Alderson Marbour. There was only one thing she knew for sure. I don’t think being a hero suits me.

She had already regretted her choice deeply.

Nevertheless, Arin didn’t take her eyes off the magic formula. She looked around desperately and focused her energy on repairing it. If she studied like this all the time, she would have earned top grades long ago.

Thirty seconds ticked by. Just as she had feared, she realized her efforts weren’t making any real difference.

Of course they weren’t. This was the grand magic of an Archmage. At best, she was just a student of the academy. How could she hope to contribute to something like this? Honestly, it would be a relief if she didn’t mess things up.

Still, ten seconds would help. Five seconds would help. No, even one second would help. She wanted to force herself to stay with Alderson and maintain the barrier for one more second. If even one more student escaped safely, her life would have been worth it.

It was hard to keep her composure in the face of death. The faces of her parents and mischievous older brother flashed through her mind. She also remembered that despite living in the capital for years, she had never tasted the sweets from the De Marlin Refreshments store.

That was life—full of regrets.

Arin reflexively grabbed the silver coin in her pocket.

What had that boy said when he gave it to her?

”It is a trump card,” Luan had said.

Maybe this coin could really resolve everything. Maybe it held immense magic that would wipe out all the armored troops with a single wave of destruction. Or perhaps a portal would open, and the heroes from the Hero Society or the Imperial Knights would appear to save them.

Please... Arin pulled out the coin with trembling fingers. She prayed silently, over and over, to the plain coin with no markings or special features. Then she flicked it into the air.

The coin soared, spinning as it climbed, then tumbled and rolled across the slanted rooftop before finally landing flat.

The armored troops glanced at it while they rammed against the barrier, but that was all. In the next moment, they resumed their assault. It was as if they hadn’t sensed any danger.

Absolutely nothing had happened.

A hollow laugh escaped her lips. She’d known it. Of course the coin couldn’t change anything.

Luan had probably given it to her as a charm. He was kinder than he looked. He must’ve known that someone backed into a corner needed something to cling to, no matter how small.

In fact, it had helped. Every time she’d felt herself unraveling, the coin had grounded her. That was all it had ever meant to do.

This isn’t a magic tool, a relic, or anything else. Arin was a student in the Department of Magic with a sharp eye for artifacts, especially thanks to her interest in archaeology. If the coin held any power, she would’ve noticed.

At that moment, numerous explosions echoed.

Why did I have to be the one helping him? If a more talented person was here to assist him, they would’ve been much more helpful than someone like me. Arin could see Alderson, who was still glaring at the armored troops despite his bleeding.

Then a sharp crack split the air—a fracture in the barrier.

Arin bolted toward it, trying to reinforce the damaged section, but it was already too late. Once formed, the crack spread across the barrier in unstoppable destruction.

This is my limit, Arin thought in despair as her mana drained away.

In the next instant, the barrier shattered completely. Alderson and Arin stood fully exposed to their enemies.

She saw an axe falling toward her, its motion unnervingly slow.

I hope it doesn’t hurt. As that ridiculous thought crossed Arin’s mind in her final moments, a sudden, blinding bolt of black lightning tore through the sky. The sound echoed like it was ripping through the entire building.

The armored troops, poised to crush the structure, halted simultaneously. The lightning appeared to pierce the building in a straight line, yet strangely, nothing broke. Instead, an unknown presence emerged where the bolt had struck.

Arin’s eyes widened.

The figure was tiny compared to the towering armored troops filling the sky, yet it radiated a similar aura. It felt almost lifeless—an inorganic entity moving with will alone, not breath.

”Unidentified hostile detected.”

”Eliminate immediately.”

Had the armored troops sensed the unusual atmosphere? They shifted their focus away from Alderson, their primary target, and turned to face this new enemy.

Soon after, the face of the being who had emerged within the lightning strike became clear. It wore a helmet unlike any Arin had seen—an unusual design that didn’t merely protect the head but concealed it entirely.

Then the stranger raised one arm toward the armored troops. The hand morphed, reshaping itself into the muzzle of a cannon.

Arin saw particles of light gathering at the muzzle, while Alderson felt an immense energy compressing in the arm.

Then the newcomer fired. For a fleeting moment, the crimson light that blanketed the world brightened, washed out by the radiance of the attack. The blast eclipsed the earlier lightning strike.

The newcomer had unleashed a beam of energy—an attack that could only be described as such—and obliterated dozens of armored troops in the sky at once.

Arin and Alderson stared, jaws slack. They had witnessed it with their own eyes, yet their minds refused to accept what they’d seen.

On the other hand, the armored troops had no emotions and didn’t flinch. Instead, their eyes glowed red as they snapped to high alert.

”Who are you?”

”Identify yourself.”

The one in the heart of that storm, standing between astonishment and vigilance, was an individual from another dimension—the fourth disciple of the First Under Heaven.

”The Annihilator,” Arang replied calmly, reloading his plasma gun.