Not all employees in an academy for superhumans are themselves superhumans.

Contrary to the glamorous images portrayed by the media, most staff members at Lord Howe Academy were regular people.

While faculty who directly interacted with superhuman students might have reason to be extraordinary, there was no need for facility management staff or visiting researchers to be superhuman.

Thus, when the alarms echoed across the academy, most employees sought refuge rather than confront the terrorists.

Of course, a few brave employees did step forward to save students, but the principal rejected the idea outright.

Bravery and recklessness must be distinguished.

Among non-superhuman staff, only medical personnel, clergy, former soldiers, and mercenaries received permission to fight against the terrorists.

At least, that was the academy’s official stance.

But in the chaos of an emergency, who could ensure that every employee followed orders? Many ignored the principal’s commands and joined the fight.

Action-oriented staff like Gulzar, the first-year cafeteria chef, and Ava, the janitor, went so far as to open the shelter doors and venture outside to join the battle.

Such actions risked exposing the employee shelter to danger, yet no one blamed them.

This was an academy. Every staff member shared the same concern for the students.

Of course… there are always those with different motives.

Journalist Park Sungyeok was one of them.

He wasn’t a superhuman, but he slipped in among the staff heading to rescue students, citing the “all Korean men serve in the military” excuse.

Did he genuinely want to save students? Not at all. He wasn’t academy staff—he was a correspondent for Goryeo Daily assigned to cover the academy. His goal? As a journalist, he sought nothing but a story.

An exclusive, and one sensational enough to capture the world’s attention.

The academy attack itself was a huge scoop, sure… but any journalist at the academy could write about that.

Park Sungyeok wanted more.

Secrets that had slipped past the school’s scrutiny or provocative truths.

If he could find such a story…

‘The bureau chief position back at headquarters wouldn’t be a pipe dream.’

With a determined spirit, he advanced toward the battle zone, a hidden camera tucked in his sleeve.

But perhaps because he joined the fight late, he barely glimpsed any actual combat with the terrorists.

On the northern island city, all he captured were gunpowder stains, bullet holes, and the frozen remnants left by mages.

It wasn’t what he had hoped for, but Park Sungyeok didn’t lose hope. The fight wasn’t over yet.

He followed communications talking about zombies and student rescues, moving along with the staff.

'Whoa, damn. What is this?'

The path toward the academy’s main building was gruesome.

The once-pristine, luxurious path for students was littered with decayed and bloated remains of dead zombies.

“Ugh…”

“Is there a priest? Someone get a priest!”

The sight of zombies piled haphazardly, faculty with severe injuries being carried to the rear…

The beautiful halls of learning lay in ruin, yet this was nothing compared to the scene in front of the first-year building.

“The perimeter of the main building is secure! We need reinforcements on the path to the shelter!”

“The third-years are safe! All the faculty stationed there are on their way, just hold out until they arrive!”

“Hell, it doesn’t matter if we hold out! The shelter has to hold!”

It was like a battlefield.

A handful of superhumans and armed staff fought desperately against zombies swarming toward the main building, all while frantic pleas for reinforcements echoed behind them.

“If only we had a mage or proper weaponry…”

“Abandoning the first-years? The principal must be insane…”

Silently, Park Sungyeok filmed the scene.

He also recorded the conversation revealing the academy’s decision to abandon the first-years and focus on rescuing the second- and third-years.

‘Jackpot.’

The academy choosing to prioritize some students over others?

This was something even the renowned academy principal couldn’t simply brush off. Given the caliber of the new students this year… they’d be lucky just to stay alive.

'It was worth sneaking in.'

Suppressing a triumphant grin, Park continued to film. Soon, an urgent voice came through someone’s radio.

“Emergency! Emergency alert!”

“What’s going on?”

“A massive hole has opened up in the main building’s courtyard! Zombies keep pouring into it—it appears to lead to the shelter!”

As soon as the broadcast ended, people’s faces hardened. They had assumed the shelter bought them time… but it was already breached?

How desperately must the students be holding out? No, how many might still be alive?

The reactions split into two camps.

“Damn it, where’s the backup?”

One person threw their radio, shouting in anger.

Others turned to hope, the priests who had come to save the Saintess pleading to the heavens.

“Oh, Five Gods… protect her.”

Park’s hidden camera recorded every emotion.

Thoughts of what would happen if the students or even the Saintess perished hadn’t crossed his mind. In fact, he wondered what might happen if she did die. If he could capture a photo of the deceased Saintess…

‘…The Pulitzer Prize wouldn’t be out of reach.’

If that came to pass, his path to becoming an executive at Goryeo Daily was practically secured…

Then, a woman’s voice came through the radio.

“To everyone in the first-year main building. Gather at the entrance in ten seconds. I repeat, gather at the entrance in ten seconds.”

A strangely lighthearted voice given the situation.

Most of the crowd frowned at the abrupt announcement, but a few staff members reacted differently.

Especially those from the faculty office who had recently dealt with the voice’s owner cried out in relief.

“The Sacred Sword! She’s here!”

The Sacred Sword? Could it be Freya Khan? Park Sungyeok imagined yet another scoop as he pointed his hidden camera toward the sky.

And in the next moment, a radiant light descended from above. A few seconds faster than the promised ten.

Flash!

Pure white light, imbued with sacred mana, blanketed the main building.

Warm as sunlight, the light engulfed the zombies, which disintegrated into glistening dust upon contact.

An ethereal and divine scene that explained why faith in the gods beyond dimensions had replaced Earth’s own religions.

“The Sacred Sword!”

Everyone shouted into their radios at the sudden arrival of a hero.

Yet this time, it wasn’t in celebration.

“The shelter has been breached! Please save the students as soon as possible!”

Did she not hear their desperate pleas to save the children?

Freya Khan, wielding the Sacred Sword, descended leisurely from the sky, as gently as a falling feather.

“S-Sacred Sword, please!”

“Has she exhausted her strength…?”

“Y-You thief! You’d let the Saintess die!”

Pleading, doubt, and fury—the staff looked only to her, anxiously waiting. Finally, when her feet touched the ground, her first words were:

“Hey, any reporters here?”

The staff looked at her with expressions of disbelief, but she scanned the crowd around the main building as if nothing was wrong.

“There’s gotta be one here somewhere…”

Snapping her fingers, Freya Khan spread her mana across the area, scanning everyone in range.

“Ah, found one. There were four or five of them in the third-year building too, no way there’s none here.”

But Park Sungyeok, an ordinary human, felt nothing and continued filming her obliviously.

“Hey, you there. Step forward.”

“W-What? Me?”

Freya Khan pointed at Park, his face betraying surprise.

“Hand over your camera and recording device.”

“W-Wait! Sacred Sword, I’m a journalist—”

Before he could resist, the Sacred Sword swiftly retrieved the hidden camera and recorder from his clothes.

“Journalist, huh?”

“….”

All eyes turned to Park. Not only had he snuck into a warzone under disguise, but he’d also been filming without permission.

The staff member who had lent him a gun glared at him, their face twisted with rage. If not for Freya Khan’s presence, they looked ready to put a bullet in him on the spot.

“I’ll delete all recordings and photos… no objections, right?”

“S-Sacred Sword, please, it’s… the people’s right to know…”

“Are you serious? You want to bring up the right to know here?”

Freya Khan’s single eye curved into a crescent. Only then did Park recognize the collective glare around him and clamped his mouth shut.

He recalled a saying among war correspondents:

Rights are far, fists are near.

‘Damn….’

The moment Park closed his mouth, the staff resumed pleading with Freya Khan to save the students. Some priests even knelt in desperation.

“We must reach the basement immediately! The students are struggling to hold on!”

“Every moment, more students are likely dying!”

Still, the Sacred Sword remained unmoved by their pleas. She slung an arm around Park’s shoulders, holding out the camera with its memory freshly wiped.

“Hey, want me to help you catch an exclusive?”

“….”

“You don’t have a choice, so shut up and follow me.”

Her arrogant attitude left him no room to refuse. Watching other staff members head toward the shelter, Park exhaled in relief.

Freya Khan headed not toward the basement breach but to the shelter’s main entrance.

Inside the main building, zombies untouched by her light swarmed.

The zombies that required the staff to risk their lives to fight evaporated with just a few swings of the Sacred Sword.

It wasn’t long before they reached the shelter entrance.

As they arrived, staff members immediately realized an issue with the lock and began undoing it entirely.

“Hold on! We’re coming to save you now!”

As shouts and the clang of metal filled the air, Freya Khan turned to Park with a smirk.

“Take a nice photo.”

“…What…photo do you mean?”

Hadn’t they stalled long enough that all the students were probably dead inside? Was she suggesting he capture an image of the dead Saintess?

As he mulled over her words, Freya Khan gave a quiet laugh.

“You’ll see when the time comes.”