Chapter 271
Chapter 271
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 271
Chapter Title: Take Responsibility for Cumming
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I touched the wrong nerve.
Krash quickly grasped what that meant.
The Demon Emperor's eyes, fixed on them, burned with rage.
For some reason, Vioren had poked at his reverse scale.
"...Talking it out got me heated too."
Vioren admitted her mistake with another cough.
From the looks of it, the Demon Emperor probably hadn't even listened to her with half an ear.
Knowing his personality, he'd likely prodded at Vioren's temperament to dig out her true intentions.
Goading her into saying something she shouldn't have.
"What did you say?"
"I straight-up denied that bastard's true goal with his magic."
Hearing Vioren's answer, Krash finally understood.
No wonder the Demon Emperor had lost his temper like that.
The reason Krash treated the Demon Emperor differently from the other Heavenly Sovereigns, calling him a madman.
While the other Heavenly Sovereigns had at least forged themselves strong for some greater cause,
the Demon Emperor had climbed this far solely for his personal ambition.
And to achieve that goal, he'd deliberately sealed away his emotions and memories that could sway him—using magic on himself, no less. A total lunatic.
His lifelong purpose boiled down to one thing.
Creating a race born purely of magic.
For the man whose emotions were restrained, the only thing that got a reaction was anything tied to his dream.
Even Krash didn't know how that obsession had taken root in him.
The Demon Emperor's inner thoughts were an enigma.
But one thing was certain: deny his dream, and he showed an intensely emotional side.
"Why'd you go and do that?"
"No matter what I said, he acted like total shit."
Vioren spat on the floor and wriggled out of Krash's arms.
"Krash."
At that moment, Aslan stepped up beside Krash.
He glanced alternately at Vioren and the Demon Emperor before fixing his gaze back on Krash.
If Temarin Jeblam was truly just his son, Aslan might have overwhelmed him with magic.
Unfortunately, the opponent was the Demon Emperor.
Before long, Haring and Bianca had risen from their seats, watching intently.
Krash met Bianca's eyes and gave a reassuring nod.
The innkeeper, startled by the sudden outburst, had hidden away but was peeking out.
At least there were no other guests—small mercies.
Thud.
In the meantime, the Demon Emperor landed on the floor.
The overwhelming pressure radiating from him had already begun to subside.
Krash noticed the Demon Emperor restraining his emotions once more.
Who in their right mind would cast mind magic on themselves? But the Demon Emperor was exactly that kind of person.
The Demon Emperor's eyes calmly met Krash's.
"I've caused a disturbance."
With those curt words, he turned and left.
"If you have something to say, come directly."
With that, the Demon Emperor ended the exchange and departed.
Damn it. He'd clearly seen through the fact that they'd sent Vioren to speak on their behalf.
'Right now, with his emotions restrained, he's lost interest in us.'
Not knowing what schemes he might unleash later gave Krash a throbbing headache.
At that moment, the even more pathetic Vioren, her temper flaring, shouted after him.
"You bastard! If you came, then take responsibility!"
Her follow-up words plunged everyone into shock.
Vioren was demanding accountability for bringing her into existence.
But to those unaware of the truth, her words took on an entirely different meaning.
As everyone stared at Vioren in stunned silence,
Krash alone pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed.
Yet the Demon Emperor, ever the unflappable one, didn't bat an eye at the remark and simply left.
"That bastard who went insane over some mage he met ages ago..."
From her muttering laced with anger, Krash realized Vioren knew about the Demon Emperor's past.
"Vioren."
At Krash's call, Vioren glanced his way.
"I'd like to hear more details on that."
It might prove useful for negotiating with the Demon Emperor.
＊ ＊ ＊
After sorting out the commotion caused by the Demon Emperor and Vioren,
Krash briefly recalled the women's furious denunciations of the Demon Emperor before shaking his head to dismiss them.
Vioren had suddenly ended up in an awkward spot, seemingly abandoned by the Demon Emperor.
But Krash decided not to dwell on it anymore.
"So, Vioren, seems like you know something about the Demon Emperor's past."
Vioren took a hearty swig of water, exhaled, and turned to Krash.
"Had to. He's still that bastard's spawn, after all."
Vioren clearly found the fact deeply irritating.
"He keeps a drawer where he deliberately stores his memories and emotions. I peeked inside it once by accident."
"Is it okay to talk about that?"
"No issue."
Whether the man himself would approve was secondary.
Vioren seemed to think it was fine to share anyway.
"Tell me? Anything that screws him over works for me."
She was still fuming, gritting her teeth.
"Please do."
And so, Krash listened to Vioren's tale.
Terasius Jeblam.
The spark for his dream of creating a magic race came from a single mage.
Terasius's childhood.
His family, Jeblam, was little more than a name—a dirt-poor clan on the frontier.
Instead of the Jeblam Magic Kingdom that exists now, there was just a mid-sized city and a single mage tower.
Terasius grew up there.
What drew him to magic was a single book from his family's bookshelf.
Fundamentals of Magic.
A book that taught only the purest basics of magic.
But the moment he read it, Terasius not only absorbed the knowledge but even applied it innovatively.
An achievement in just one week, without any formal training.
Genius.
The word fit him perfectly.
Yet the frontier town where he was born wasn't the place for his talents to bloom.
"Magic? When would you learn that? We don't even have money at home. Eek, your father's coming. Hurry to the fields!"
"Hey, you damn whore, bring me booze! Where's the wine for a nobleman back from work?!"
His father, who fancied himself nobility despite their empty title, drowned in booze and gambling every day.
And he didn't hesitate to lay hands on his family.
His mother was a prostitute his father had brought from the inn he frequented.
She'd married him thinking it would free her from that life, lured by his noble status.
But it turned out worse than whoring.
Soon enough, she vanished from the home entirely.
Terasius didn't particularly care.
He craved no familial bonds.
He wanted only magic.
But in that frontier town, his magic hit a wall.
No matter the genius, self-study had its limits.
So Terasius left home.
To reach the nearest mage tower.
But the frontier wasn't safe enough for a child wandering alone.
He soon encountered an Erosion Beast.
He fought back with the magic he'd taught himself.
But basics from Fundamentals of Magic couldn't defeat it.
Yet he wasn't a worthless genius for nothing.
He inflicted some damage but couldn't finish it off.
Just as the genius faced death,
"Magic boy, you're wielding some awfully unique spells."
A woman appeared, incinerating the Erosion Beast in one go.
The dark-red-haired woman smiled at the blood-soaked Terasius.
"And talented, too. I'm just a passing mage. Shall we have a proper chat?"
The passing mage he'd met in the woods.
Terasius received healing from her.
From that day, they talked endlessly about magic.
Having survived a harsh environment, his emotions were worn thin.
But meeting her, he felt joy for the first time.
The emotion he'd only known from learning magic now bloomed through connection with another.
It left a profound mark on Terasius.
Endless debates on magic's truths.
He and the mage talked through the night.
She vanished as suddenly as she'd appeared.
Up to then, Terasius hadn't thought to seek her out.
Instead, cherishing their magical discussions, he headed to the mage tower.
Assuming other mages would be like her.
There, he met various mages and chatted idly.
But soon, he realized one truth.
None of the mages he met could engage in the same profound discussions on magic's essence as she had.
He felt suffocated.
Wondering if he'd outgrown them, he sought out renowned mages everywhere.
But even they only revered him—no equals for conversation.
The world felt unbearably dull.
So he obsessively scoured the world for that woman.
Desperate to reclaim that first human connection he'd known, he found her in the end.
Or rather, her corpse.
Long dead, she lay forgotten in her grave.
He didn't know why she'd died.
Magic examination revealed chronic illnesses, but they didn't seem the sole cause.
Terasius despaired.
The world crumbled around him.
He'd amassed so much magic.
Yet the one person who could debate its truths was gone.
He felt utterly alone.
Soon, Terasius changed his mindset.
If no one remained to discuss magic with, he'd create one.
A madman's outrageous idea.
But he was a genius among geniuses.
Mages were those who pursued magic endlessly.
They'd sell their souls for it.
Terasius began teaching them.
Even famed mages flocked to him, eyes wild, begging for his lessons.
Leading them, he founded a nation to chase magic's pinnacle.
None dared stop Terasius's nation-building.
Their own mages worshipped him and craved his teachings.
Opposing the Jeblam Magic Kingdom's founding would mean losing every mage to him.
So neighboring nations welcomed it.
If it was happening anyway, they vied to curry favor for future ties.
Thus, amid tangled interests, the Jeblam Magic Kingdom was born.
But people didn't know.
The sole reason for its founding: vast resources needed for creating a magic race.
Terasius drove simultaneous magic research, unveiling the magic race project.
To mages, birthing a magic race was a dream come true.
Countless mages rallied to support it.
Gather resources via the kingdom, conduct parallel research.
With those processes in place, Terasius poured endless investment into the magic race.
Obsessed for so long, it had become his everything.
Thus, he clung to it with vicious tenacity.
That was the man known as the Demon Emperor, Terasius Jeblam.
Having heard it all, Krash rubbed his chin.
"See? Total psycho, right? He's doing all this just 'cause he's lonely and wants to create someone like himself."
Vioren trembled with exasperation.
But Krash remained silent, unresponsive.
Noticing, Vioren furrowed her brow slightly and glanced at him.
"What, got some bright idea?"
"Not exactly, but... Vioren, can you describe that woman he met in more detail? Her appearance."
"Appearance?"
Vioren pondered deeply.
"Dark-red hair, mid-20s look, and red eyes."
"..."
Krash glanced toward the window.
A crow perched there quietly took wing and fled.
Vast magical knowledge.
Dark-red hair and red eyes.
That distinctive speech pattern.
Krash had pinpointed the mage who ensnared Terasius.
"...I think I know who turned the Demon Emperor into that mess."
The identity of the one who'd debated magic's truths with him.
The culprit who'd made him this way.
Crimson Garden August.
It was her handiwork.