Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Griffin's Specter
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"Have you come to rescue your siblings?"
Darius was at a loss for how to respond to Grand Mage Rockpellican's question.
Should he uphold his convictions, or just spit out some improvised excuse laced with lies?
Honestly, his heart leaned toward the latter, but his mouth wouldn't comply.
"Yes."
It was tantamount to openly admitting treason. Even as he spoke, Darius cursed his own foolishness, but Rockpellican merely let out a hollow chuckle, looking satisfied.
"Your boldness appeals to me. You take after your father, Damus, that giant from the North."
Srrrk.
As Rockpellican lowered his staff, Darius coughed and finally peeled himself off the wall.
Outside the fence, the Three Musketeers from the Scrap Merchants were asking if he was okay, but he couldn't respond in his current situation.
"Your companions? Excellent. I'll let them in for now."
"Pardon?"
Darius couldn't make sense of the situation at all, but at Rockpellican's gesture urging him to get on with it, he stealthily secured the rope.
The Three Musketeers quickly scaled the fence and entered.
"Huh?!"
"What the—?"
"You sold us out?!"
The flustered Three Musketeers tried to confront Darius right away, but they could only gape like carp, unable to get any reply.
The grand mage's spell had silenced them completely. Their sudden mute shouting looked almost theatrical.
Once they quieted down, Rockpellican beckoned them with a hand.
"Follow me. I'll take you to the two of them."
* * *
King Orpheus remained seated in the secretive royal chamber, flipping through the journal.
His somber heart flickered and wavered violently, like the candle flame beside him.
The journal chronicled the Griffin royal family's roots, and the tear stains from repeated readings—along with his bloodshot eyes—spoke to his exhaustion.
With every page he turned, his chest trembled, waves of guilt and revulsion surging up like nausea.
As someone who had strongly condemned the inhumane acts in the Clock Republic.
In the end, he was no better than a muddied dog barking at the same filth. The shame was overwhelming.
Even more shocking was that they had vehemently persecuted fellow black mages to hide that their nation was founded by one.
It was a true abyss.
Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, the next few pages revealed even more demonic schemes.
Yet one thing stood out strongly amid it all: an obsession with the royal bloodline.
Was it because they were black mages, despised and scorned?
Or had ambition and stubbornness for power been etched into their very blood from birth?
Across the ages, even as the author changed, a lingering obsession remained—a fanaticism. It felt like they would sacrifice everything to protect the royal name.
Almost.
'Like Mother.'
The more he read, the more King Orpheus thought of his mother, who had been excessively fixated on their royal status.
He himself had been educated by Rockpellican and thus escaped her influence, but his sister Elenoa had suffered terribly under their mother, Hiran.
That was why Orpheus and Elenoa both harbored resentment toward formal royal protocols, despite being royals themselves.
"Hoo."
His eyes stung from fatigue. Amid the crushing guilt, King Orpheus was slowly returning to his usual self.
It was confusing, repulsive, infuriatingly hateful.
"Responsibility cannot be evaded."
Yes, in the end, all this burden was an inescapable duty for the current royal family.
"I'm sorry, Deius."
He murmured softly, apologizing to Deius, whom he had imprisoned.
Deius had known all these truths yet kept silent until Orpheus asked.
Even holding a heavenly punishment that could topple the Griffin Kingdom, he hadn't used it.
At the time, Orpheus had arrested him to silence him, prioritizing the family's protection.
But the more he thought about it, the more Deius seemed a true loyal retainer.
Orpheus rose slowly.
It was late into the night, but he intended to order Deius's release even now.
Bang!
The door slammed shut violently.
Though no wind blew, the candle flame twisted as if bitten at the nape and went out.
"Hm?"
Wondering what was happening, he gathered mana in his hand to create light.
[Foolish wretch.]
A black face loomed in the light.
Startled, King Orpheus staggered back without even screaming.
But the black face clung to him relentlessly.
Faint horns protruded from its forehead like those of a devil not fully grown, jagged teeth jutted out, and its misty body amplified the ominous aura.
[How many ages have I built this dynasty over, only for you to try to tear it down in a single day.]
"W-What are you?!"
He swung his hand desperately, but it passed right through, offering no resistance.
The black face, resembling a demon, opened its mouth. Contrary to its massive jaws, its voice whispered low and grating, like dozens of insects crawling into his ear.
[The master of this land.]
"What...?"
The chilling voice delivering the secret shifted tone. It became high-pitched and shrill, like a neurotic woman's.
And not just that.
The black face began to take form, one familiar to Orpheus.
"M-Mother?"
The black face, now bearing Hiran Luden Griffin's features, cackled in response.
[I am your mother.]
It changed again.
To the wrinkled, dignified face of his idolized father.
[And your father.]
It shifted once more.
This time to a figure buried deep in memory.
[And your great-grandfather.]
Then it reverted to the original black face, declaring as if it were the most natural thing.
[I am Griffin itself, spanning hundreds of years of history.]
"You...!"
The journal, spanning centuries yet written as if by one hand.
The mad obsession with the royal family.
King Orpheus realized instantly.
This being was the root of it all.
The demonic progenitor of the Griffins.
[And now.]
Creeeak.
Its massive maw gaped wide.
Hideous teeth and a thick, lolling tongue lashed out toward Orpheus.
[You.]
"!"
He couldn't resist.
Orpheus was devoured by it. He thrashed in spasms a few times, but soon black smoke billowed from his body, and he calmed.
Then he shot to his feet, cracking his neck with a grin.
"Where'd a ghost like you crawl out from?"
[...!]
Addressing the black necromancer—who had been watching it all and was now bizarrely obeying her former disciple's orders.
"The palace isn't a place for vermin like you to wander."
As Orpheus extended his hand, fierce mana surged to constrict the black necromancer.
[V-Vermin?!]
Thanks to Deius's help in wielding her mana, she barely defended herself before passing through the wall and fleeing.
"Tch."
Her resistance was fiercer than expected, but it didn't matter.
She was a dead soul anyway.
Even returning to her master would change nothing.
Kwang!
"Hoo!"
Orpheus burst through the door, taking a deep breath outside. No matter how many times, the sensation of being alive felt good.
He strode left down the corridor and emerged into the palace garden.
The alert guards who spotted him saluted immediately.
"Inform the Royal Guard Captain, the Magic Judge, and the grand mage to enter the palace at once."
Orpheus grinned as he spoke.
"We execute the criminal who insulted the royal family."
* * *
"Whew, I thought I'd freeze to death."
Shivering, Deia finally cheered as her clothes arrived.
He had given her his jacket, but since she was in pajamas, she still looked cold.
"Look away."
The Scrap Merchants' Three Musketeers were staring holes at Deia as she changed, so he warned them sharply, and they cowered with bowed heads.
Who were they to leer like that?
"Pfft."
Deia sneaked a pleased smile at him before heading to the prison corner.
"You can still see like this? Cover me a bit."
She tugged him behind her to shield herself and stripped off her pajamas. The situation was abrupt, but to block the view of her naked little sister, he squared his shoulders, scowled, and glared at the arriving grand mage, Darius, and the Three Musketeers.
"I told you we'd consider it."
He had no intention of breaking out dramatically before King Orpheus's response came.
Frowning as he spoke, Rockpellican averted his eyes awkwardly.
Darius was grateful for coming to rescue him and Deia, but with things going strangely, he just watched cautiously.
About to say something, Deia's bare leg poked out beside him. She was dressing, standing on one foot with her back against him.
"Have some shame."
The words meant for Darius and Rockpellican swerved to Deia instead.
"Hm? That's rich coming from you."
"..."
"Try bunking with two unrelated guys like a proper husband. We're all the same."
That shut his mouth. Only Deia knew he wasn't really Deius Verdi.
He'd tell Darius later, but not now.
Fully dressed, Deia emerged, mana rifle even strapped to her belt. She must have truly risked her life entering Graypond.
He was about to suggest returning everything and waiting again.
[G-Gasp! Big trouble!]
The black necromancer burst through the wall, yelling frantically. He had assigned her to watch the king.
Her return like this meant the king had decided something?
But her report exceeded all imagination.
A malevolent spirit lurking deep in the Griffin Kingdom had possessed successive kings' bodies.
And now Orpheus's.
It was absurd, beyond ridiculous.
'Such a plot twist was hidden?'
Nothing like this in the Retry game. Though on second thought, it wasn't surprising he hadn't known.
'No black mage in the party, after all.'
The saintess only joined briefly, so she wasn't around during Graypond activities.
"Tch, so we wasted our time?"
The others, unable to hear the black necromancer, eyed him curiously.
Darius looked uneasy, wondering if they should retreat; Rockpellican still avoided his gaze awkwardly.
"No."
Donning the jacket Deia handed him, he stepped out of the cell.
"The situation has changed."
Heavy footsteps thronged outside.
Knights in crimson armor filed into the prison.
They hesitated upon seeing Rockpellican there.
Then a woman strode forward, commanding the chaos.
The smallest and slightest among the armored knights.
Yet she stood at the pinnacle of the Royal Knight Order, directly under the crown.
Royal Guard Captain Gloria Grace.
The kingdom's sharpest blade, rivaling even Magic Judge Tairn All Bellocus.
Her red hair flowing, she fixed piercing eyes on him and demanded.
"Criminal who insulted the royals, vile black mage Deius Verdi. His Majesty commands the Royal Knight Order to execute you on the spot."
"How convenient."
He retorted sarcastically, and Gloria's eyes twitched faintly.
"Branded a black mage, no trial. No hope of fair judgment."
What difference from the old medieval witch hunts?
"Doesn't matter anyway."
Yes, it made no difference.
"If they bring unreason, I'll answer with unreasonable power."
His steps didn't halt; Deia and Darius followed, readying for battle.
They quickly grasped that fighting was the only way to survive.
"You think you can escape?"
Gloria drew her sword in disbelief, and the Royal Knights followed suit in perfect unison, like a drill team.
Swinging swords in a narrow passage wouldn't be easy.
But they were elite knights; such obstacles were trivial.
Still, one correction was needed.
"I'm not escaping."
In a blink, Remegaton gleamed black in his palm, like a magician's card trick.
Echoes of wraiths' wails seemed to resound from everywhere.
"Not escaping?"
Taking it as an insult, Gloria gritted her teeth, gripped her sword two-handed, and assumed stance.
"I'm simply."
He corrected her again.
"Going to have an audience with His Majesty."