Chapter 242
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 242
At the appointed hour, when the moon eclipsed the sun and plunged the world into darkness, the succession ritual the Venerables had long anticipated finally began.
It was a rite to choose the true successor who would inherit the karma and power of the Demon God. While it sounded grandiose, it was, in essence, a brutal ceremony to select a demon resilient enough to withstand the Demon God’s overwhelming power. Of course, beyond mere strength, the candidate also required the specific capabilities needed to achieve the "Great Work" the Venerables spoke of.
The setting was the outskirts of the Demon World: the Shaitan Meteor Crater, a place where a planet-shattering meteor was said to have fallen in the distant past. Millions of demons and monsters had swarmed into the crater to witness the ritual. Orcs, trolls, vampires, dragons, giants—the sight of so many disparate races gathered in one place was a spectacle in its own right.
It was an overwhelming landscape that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a dark fantasy film. It didn't feel real that I was standing at its very center.
"Let us go."
"Alright."
Escorted by three Venerables and their elite honor guard, I headed toward the altar at the center of the colosseum-like crater. The altar was of staggering proportions, surrounded by broken pillars that suggested it was once the site of an ancient temple.
I felt a gaze from above. Looking up, I saw a white-haired demon sitting at the highest point of the altar, peering down at us.
The first-ranked successor, Iscariot of the Pure Blood.
Four of the current Venerables supported him: Saiyar of the elves, Yungraom of the giants, Yunok of the celestials, and Iscariot himself. As the top seed, he would only participate in the final battle.
I took my seat on a chair positioned slightly below him. I was the current second-ranked successor: Roen, the Half-Blood. My supporters were Glet of the humans, Amur of the spirits, and Carmilla of the vampires.
I sat and looked down. After a short wait, the third-ranked successor, Kaim the Immortal, arrived with his entourage. He was supported by Ryuton of the dwarves and Rimgar of the undead. Girena of the beastkin had also supported Kaim, but since he had died at my hands, Kaim was left with only two Venerables.
A blond boy, flanked by his two protectors, stepped onto the altar. My brow furrowed the moment I saw his face. He was the last person I expected to see in a place like this, and certainly not someone I was pleased to encounter.
...Jeremy?
The brilliant blond hair, the handsome features, the sharp bridge of his nose—it was unmistakably Jeremy Gilbert, the prefect of Ishtal Academy and the first prince of the Gilbert Kingdom. But while he wore Jeremy’s face, his essence was entirely foreign.
A sinister, unsettling aura.
It was the aura of King Kaim, the man who had brought slaughter upon his own kingdom. King Kaim, inhabiting Jeremy’s form, spoke to me as if we were old friends.
"It’s been a while, Roen. To think we’d meet in a place like this."
He spoke casually, as if our past acquaintance was a given. Seeing that he remembered me, it seemed Kaim’s and Jeremy’s memories had merged.
I replied coldly, "...Who are you?"
King Kaim’s soul was inhabiting Jeremy’s body, but that didn't mean Jeremy’s memories were gone. Or perhaps... had Jeremy’s soul been the one to devour Kaim’s?
He answered my question with chilling confidence.
"I am no one. If I had to describe myself, I am a new breed of human—an ageless, immortal being who has transcended the limits of the human race."
"..."
It felt as though we were speaking different languages. I realized there was nothing to be gained from further conversation. However, if he possessed Jeremy’s appearance and memories, it would be easier to treat him as Jeremy rather than King Kaim.
After his brief greeting, he took a seat lower than mine and looked down at the arena. With his arrival, ten Venerables had declared their support for the respective candidates. As for the remaining two, Kral of the Sea People was dormant in the deep sea after a past defeat by the Chairman, and Calvador, the Venerable of the Dragon Kin, was said to be sleeping in his lair.
However...
Whoosh—!
Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed over us as a chaotic ancient dragon appeared in the darkened sky.
"It’s Calvador!"
At a demon’s shout, every eye turned toward the heavens. This was the Mad Dragon who had abandoned his own Dragon Heart to receive the Demon God’s power—the Venerable of the Dragon Kin.
Mad Dragon Calvador.
He had come to observe the ritual. He landed silently on the highest rim of the crater, looking down upon the millions of demons and the central altar.
With the chosen successors seated and all eleven active Venerables gathered, the succession ritual began in earnest. Dark priests from every race filed onto the altar like a line of ants. They formed a pentagram and began chanting incantations, their voices rising in a haunting drone.
The priests sliced their own skin with ritual knives, offering bizarre prayers to the sky. As if in response, dark clouds swirled overhead, and black lightning struck the altar.
Krrr-umble!
The dark priests were struck by the black bolts and died instantly. As their souls were offered as sacrifices, black flames erupted in the air, revealing the source of the power left behind by the Demon God.
"......!"
It was the shape of a key, faintly shimmering from beyond the fabric of space. An overwhelming demonic energy and authority radiated from it.
When the key appeared, the last surviving dark priest rose from the ash-covered altar and shrieked.
"Anyone who desires it may enjoy His power and authority! Fight and seize it for yourselves!"
"Uwoooaaahhh!!"
Driven mad by the intense demonic energy, the demons below the altar lost their reason and began to riot. Soon, other powerful contenders participating in the ritual began to climb onto the altar one by one.
In the Demon World, besides the Venerables who represented the primary races, there were other powerhouses who ruled various regions. A few of them had gathered enough support to earn a spot in the ritual.
Among the twelve races of the Demon World, the strongest are undoubtedly the giants and the dragons.
True to form, most of the contenders throwing their hats into the ring were giants and dragons. Watching them ascend, Glet turned to me.
"Successor, who do you think will come out on top?"
The winner of this preliminary brawl would face the third-ranked successor, Jeremy. I scanned the participants and pointed to a massive red dragon.
"My money is on Blood Baltan."
The red dragon, Blood Baltan. In the original story, he was a notoriously difficult mid-boss. Even with my demonic energy detection, I could see no one among the current participants who could match him.
A short while later...
Thud.
Just as I predicted, Blood Baltan easily crushed the other contenders and claimed the altar. He raised his voice, bellowing a challenge to Jeremy, the third in line.
"To challenge for the succession in the body of a lowly human is preposterous! I, Blood Baltan, descendant of the red dragons, will tear you apart and seize the right of succession!"
He unleashed legendary 9th-tier magic—the Dragon Language, which held the authority of instant death.
[Power Word: Kill]
Kwarreung!
With the manifestation of the Dragon Language, the very killing intent of the world converged on Jeremy. A bolt of materialized mana, imbued with the concept of death, struck him directly.
But despite taking a direct hit from the lethal lightning, Jeremy remained completely unharmed.
"......!"
He had already become immortal; not even the Dragon Language could extinguish a life that had transcended death. Jeremy rose from his seat and slowly walked toward the center of the altar.
Step. Step.
He approached Baltan one step at a time, his voice soft but clear.
"No matter how great the Dragon Kin, all are bound to decline with the passage of time."
Jeremy reached a hand toward the sky.
Rumble.
Demonic energy began to swirl, condensing into a physical form.
"As long as your slave contract with the Master God remains, you will never be free from the shackles of that decline."
Then, Jeremy lowered his hand.
Flash!
A massive greatsword that had formed in the sky plunged down toward Baltan’s head. Sensing the danger, Baltan layered multiple magical barriers above him, but the greatsword Jeremy summoned tore through them like paper, striking the dragon’s neck.
"......!"
Baltan’s head rolled away unceremoniously.
Thud.
The dragon’s colossal body collapsed, and a torrent of red blood gushed from the stump of its neck.
"Uwooaah!!"
As the dragon’s blood flowed down the altar, the demons below swarmed forward, greedily lapping it up. Dragon’s blood was a potent source of demonic energy and power.
Having killed Baltan in a single blow, Jeremy approached the corpse and tore out its heart.
Thump-thump.
The Dragon Heart was still beating. Kaim chewed it up and swallowed it whole. As the Mad Dragon Calvador watched with a strange, unreadable gaze, Jeremy spoke softly.
"Next."
*
While the dark priests cleared Baltan’s corpse from the altar for the next match, the Venerables supporting Iscariot expressed their concern.
"Iscariot, the power of the undead successor is extraordinary."
"Baltan was one of the strongest among the Dragon Kin. To think he’d be dealt with so easily..."
Saiyar and Yunok spoke in quick succession, clearly shaken. To withstand the Dragon Language and then decapitate a dragon through multiple barriers in one strike was an overwhelming display of power.
Even Yungraom, the Venerable of the giants—who usually despised dragons—added his thoughts.
"...Even I could not take Baltan lightly. You should be careful."
But Iscariot let their warnings go in one ear and out the other. His interest was fixed elsewhere. His red eyes shifted past his flowing white hair to settle on a specific boy.
He wasn't looking at Jeremy, the immortal who had just slaughtered a dragon. He was looking at Roen, who was preparing for the next match.
"Don't get ahead of yourselves," Iscariot said. "Just watch the next fight carefully. The real threat to me... is the half-blood successor over there."
*
Boom, boom, boom!
"Ooooh!"
While the altar was being prepared, the frenzied demons roared wildly. They seemed to have little interest in the nuances of the ritual; seeing hundreds of them beating each other to a pulp below the altar, it was clear they were simply reveling in the carnage.
I watched them silently for a moment before rising. As I stepped forward for my fight with Jeremy, Amur crossed his arms and spoke, offering a rough sort of encouragement.
"You are stronger than me now. I will not tolerate defeat."
Carmilla and Glet spoke next.
"If you lose, I’ll kill you myself. I’ll add your corpse to the collection in my castle."
"My expectations are high. Please, return victorious."
I nodded and headed for the altar.
A heavy, suffocating air settled over the arena. Dense demonic energy and an intense aura of death wrapped around me, making my skin tingle.
Step.
With every step, sticky blood clung to the soles of my shoes. Fear and exhilaration grew in equal measure as I approached the center. I wanted to run from this terrifying battle, yet at the same time, I was itching to dive into it.
The human emotions and demonic instincts within me were clashing violently. But after a year in the Demon World, I had grown much closer to my demonic side. Suppressing the excitement that made my blood feel like it was boiling, I came to a halt.
Standing confidently before me was Jeremy Gilbert. Or rather, the immortal being who carried the soul of King Kaim.
I had always known I would face Jeremy someday, but I never imagined it would be on such a grand stage—the very place where the Demon God’s successor would be chosen.
I let out a small sigh and spoke.
"An immortal being, you say."
Jeremy, who claimed to be ageless and undying. He had certainly proven it by shrugging off Baltan’s Dragon Language.
"That’s right," Jeremy replied. "Ageless and immortal. I can never die."
I scoffed. "Never die? That... sounds like a curse."
Eternal life is a burden. To never age, to never die—I didn't have the confidence to endure such an eternity. I wanted to be free from the fear of death, but that didn't mean I craved immortality. I just wanted to live well, meet someone I loved, and grow old with them.
Though I didn't know if I would ever be allowed such a simple dream.
Chk.
I dropped into a fighting stance, my eyes gleaming with intent.
"Come."