Chapter 174
Chapter 174
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 173
Chapter Title: Victim
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A massive chandelier in the banquet hall, glamorous yet unsettling, like something out of a mystery novel.
The fluffy fur rug with brown patterns cradled the soles of their feet, while the soft lighting on the walls made one forget it was nighttime.
Round tables prepared for ambassadors from each nation.
Starting with the Griffin Kingdom, then the Jerman Kingdom. Even the distant Valestan Duchy from the Clock Republic, and the fading Han Empire in the east.
A considerable number of places had sent representatives to this banquet, a glimpse into the Griffin Kingdom's diplomatic prowess.
It was one thing to invite the neighboring Jerman Kingdom across the desert, but pulling in a small nation like the Valestan Duchy and even the now-unfavorably-treated Han Empire.
Lavish dishes adorned each table, heavy on meat—clearly tailored to Magan's tastes.
Naturally, not everyone could enter the banquet hall, so from the Northsweden entourage, only the three Verdi siblings were allowed to attend.
The three claimed a table, while at another Griffin table sat Princess Elenoa, Saintess Lucia, and Judge Tairn.
"Haa."
The moment they sat, Deia subtly pushed aside the champagne in front of her and requested water.
The liquor was a rare Clock Republic specialty, hard to obtain even in the kingdom, but she couldn't afford to get drunk in this tense situation.
Deius smacked his lips but held back for now. Darius took only a polite sip for courtesy's sake.
"Quite the gathering of heavyweights."
Even to the untrained eye of Darius, it was clear powerful figures had assembled.
Starting with the superhuman Oscop boldly guarding the entrance.
"The Shield of the Valestan Duchy, Tom. I'd heard he was built like a bear, but he's even more impressive in person."
The man named Tom from the Valestan Duchy table had combined two chairs just to sit, already blowing booze like it was going out of style.
The strong liquor seemed like mere juice to him.
"With the duchy's heir present, he's probably guarding against any contingencies."
Deia rested her chin on her hand, glancing toward the Valestan table. Among those invited, they had the weakest backing, so the young heir feigned composure while furtively scanning the room.
"The Han Empire sent Han So, once called the War God."
"The empire's in precarious straits now, so they couldn't spare key figures. The War God's name carries weight, and with an old man nearing retirement and nothing better to do, he came out for a stroll."
"......Do you have to nitpick my impressions like that?"
Darius, excited to see such renowned warriors, had his enthusiasm politically interpreted by Deia, who shrugged.
The Valestan Duchy and Han Empire shared a border but had poor relations, so their tables were placed at opposite ends.
They had likely attended partly to keep an eye on each other.
"The Jerman Kingdom's putting real weight behind this too."
The Jerman Kingdom lay beyond the Marias Great Forest, across the Sahar Desert. The ones scheming to use the Marias Tribe as a foothold for invading Griffin.
Others might not know, but Deius and Aria were already aware these people would march massive armies toward Griffin within a few years.
That would mark the start of bloodshed sweeping the continent once more.
"The Desert Divine Beast, Jordia."
Copper skin, solid muscles. Even at the banquet, a kopis—a sword curved like an axe blade—hung at his waist.
"All these big shots in one place. No sparring matches or anything?"
Darius snorted and muttered, earning a click of the tongue from Deia.
"Why bother when you'd just lose anyway?"
"Wh-what are you saying? I'm the famed giant of Northsweden."
"So that's why a single Doberman broke through you?"
"Th-that guy had bombs......!"
"Enough. We've got Sir Tairn anyway, so we're not outmatched in strength."
"......"
In truth, it wasn't just holding their own—Tairn the Magic Inquisitor's intimidating presence was so ferocious that even the others were wary.
A subtle killing intent promising swift retribution for any foolish words or insults.
"Care for one?"
A maid arrived with a silver tray. Before Deius could even check what it held, his eyes snapped wide.
"Sniff! Sniff sniff!"
A reaction he'd shown before.
Suspicious, he peered at the tray the maid offered, revealing cigars far thicker than fingers, neatly arranged.
'Not ordinary tobacco.'
It was drugs.
The Clock Republic brazenly manufactured them. Their laws differed fundamentally from other nations.
Darius refused, and Deius drooled uncontrollably but somehow resisted.
"N-no, I'm good."
He forced his head away with gritted teeth—a commendable effort.
"I'll take one."
Deia, staring blankly at the cigars, pocketed one.
Not to smoke herself, but as a precaution for any unforeseen events.
"You......"
"They're crazy enough to peddle drugs to VIPs. Gotta check what they gave out."
"But......"
As Darius hesitated to speak up, Magan and his female secretary took the stage at the front of the banquet hall.
His waddling approach with the microphone looked pathetic, drawing stifled laughs from some tables.
But those who knew his true nature didn't so much as twitch.
To them, every awkward gesture was just him forcibly reminding everyone he was a pathetic human—nothing more.
"Thank you all for attending tonight's banquet. A true honor. As you know, I'm Magan Tolles, President of the Clock Republic."
A simple introduction.
Followed by rote greetings and empty calls to unite for continental peace and a prosperous future, devoid of sincerity.
Deia glanced at her empty glass. They'd been deliberately placed to reflect other tables.
'The Jerman Kingdom seems disinterested. Han Empire's playacting friendliness, Valestan's heir......'
Through the glass, the young Valestan heir wiped away tears.
She'd heard demonic whispers could fake human emotion, but she hadn't expected anyone here to fall for Magan's sly tongue.
'If that's acting, it's masterful.'
Yet it didn't look feigned. Even Tom, his bodyguard, patted his shoulder to snap him out of it.
"Now! Everyone! You all hold glorious positions and heavy burdens. But tonight, set it all aside!"
Magan's lips stretched into a wide grin.
"And enjoy the feast!"
BOOM!
An explosion roared.
The unstable chandelier crashed down, black smoke and dust whipping through like a gale, engulfing everyone.
The wall at the entrance collapsed like a tsunami, burying one side of the banquet hall in rubble.
The superhuman Oscop, standing guard there, along with countless Republic attendants, were crushed beneath, thick blood oozing between the stones.
"Duck!"
Deia urgently shielded Deius. Shoving the trembling boy under the table, she locked eyes with Darius.
"I'll guard him. Assess the situation."
"Got it."
She urgently scanned Elenoa's table.
Fortunately, Tairn had expanded the protective magic of his robe, shielding both the princess and saintess.
"You all okay over there?!"
Smoke and dust obscured the adjacent table, so Elenoa called out to check.
"We're fine, Princess! All three Verdi siblings unharmed!"
At Darius's booming reply, Elenoa sighed in relief.
She couldn't tell the state of other factions, but they were clearly trapped in the banquet hall now.
Chaos everywhere, no doubt.
The hall's lights had all gone out, and amid the unidentified explosions and smoke, Saintess Lucia was first to act.
"Everyone, calm down."
A white orb from her palm shot toward where the chandelier had been. Even through dust and smoke, its pure light spread untainted.
Soon, holy power illuminated the entire banquet hall.
"Ah."
"That's the saintess."
"Holy power."
Naturally, no casualties at any table.
With renowned continental warriors among their entourages, such a surprise attack was futile.
Confirming this, Deia and Elenoa's gazes simultaneously turned to where Magan had stood.
"Madman."
"Couldn't resist your instincts? How foolish."
They meant to condemn Magan for daring such a stunt with all these national delegations present, declaring the Clock Republic's diplomatic image utterly ruined.
"Huh?"
But no words came.
No— the situation itself refused to register.
They thought everyone was safe.
Yet there lay the sole victim of this assault.
A sword had pierced from the nape, slashed downward—the entrails fully exposed.
Blood sprayed long.
Breath already gone.
Eyes rolled back.
Body deflated like a punctured balloon.
The corpse of the Archdemon Magan was there.