Chapter 530: The Fallen Noble
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 530: The Fallen Noble
“...I'm no subordinate of yours.”
Krasov growled, his voice a low mutter.
But the glittering madness that had been in his eyes just moments before had undeniably subsided.
If he had a tail, it would surely be drooping lifelessly.
That was the impression he gave—like the pathetic threat of a herbivore trying to puff itself up before a predator.
Dmitri stared at him without a word.
His blackened eyes and the 180-degree shift in his cold demeanor gave the impression that his very personality had changed.
Just as Krasov slipped a hand into his coat, fumbling for a self-defense artifact...
“Haha!”
Dmitri suddenly burst into a hearty laugh.
His blackened eyes had returned to their normal color, and he wore his usual good-natured smile.
“Subordinate? To the great Comrade President of Russia? Of course not. It's just that my superior is a man of few words... I hope you will be generous enough to understand, Comrade President.”
“...”
Though his words were formal and polite, Krasov heard something entirely different.
—So what? What are you going to do about it?
Grit—
Krasov ground his teeth, suppressing his rage.
He wanted nothing more than to shove a bullet between Dmitri's eyes, but there were more important matters at hand.
“...Are you telling the truth when you say the preparations are complete?”
“How could I dare lie before you? Besides, I'm far too busy to come all this way just to tell a lie.”
The man's smug smile made his anger flare once more, but Krasov managed to calm himself by lighting a cigar.
Fwooo—
The rich scent of herbs gently filled the office.
“I'll lock down the city. In return, you'd better keep your promise, no matter what.”
In that instant, Krasov's eyes glittered menacingly.
“If you even think of backstabbing me, I'll rain missiles down on your holy land.”
“Is there any doubt?”
Dmitri shrugged nonchalantly.
Krasov didn't like his attitude one bit. He wanted to snap his neck right then and there.
But that feeling was fleeting—
“As promised, we will hand over the Tower Lord's daughter to you, Comrade President.”
“...Good.”
A chilling smile spread across Krasov's lips.
Love-hate is truly a curious emotion.
You can despise someone enough to want them dead, yet you hesitate when the moment comes to kill them.
But if you try to push them out of your sight, their image only lingers more persistently as time passes.
It was a truly unpleasant feeling.
That was why, the moment Dmitri told him Valentina had a daughter, Krasov demanded Anastasia's custody as the price for his cooperation with Belmoras.
As the old saying goes, if you can't have the pheasant, take the chicken.
“But what's your plan if the Tower Lord makes a move? I can accept other variables, but the moment that woman gets involved, the whole plan will fall apart.”
“You need not worry about that. She won't be able to move, anyway.”
Because by then, Valentina won't have any self-awareness left.
Dmitri smiled silently, swallowing the rest of his thought.
*
With the fall of the Russian Empire and the rise of the Soviet Union, the nobility began their path to ruin.
Some went into exile abroad, continuing their lives of luxury with their vast fortunes, but the majority failed to adapt to the changing times and were pushed into the back alleys of history.
The Chernov Marquisate, once a prestigious family in Russia, was no exception.
They were originally known as a great family of mages, having produced many outstanding wizards, but in recent decades, no child had been born with magical talent, and they were slowly declining.
Perhaps the heavens took pity on them.
On a day when the winter sun shone with unusual intensity, a child was born who would change the fate of the Chernov Marquisate.
Born with the extremely rare light element, the child possessed such outstanding talent that the White Tower Lord of that era called him a genius.
As if to prove it, the child became a 3rd Circle mage at the age of twenty and reached the 6th Circle by thirty, finally succeeding in rebuilding his family's name.
But that was as far as he went.
Even at the age of sixty, he remained at the 6th Circle.
It was as if the heavens had drawn a line, declaring that this was his limit.
CRASH!!
—Like hell it is.
What mage in the world could accept such a reality without a fight?
Magic, by its very nature, is a study that defies the heavens.
Before the First Tower Lord, Baylion, established the twelve magic towers and united the mages, the concept of a "black mage" didn't exist.
In those days, human experimentation and human sacrifice were considered standard practice for mages.
Naturally, mages were ostracized, shunned, and despised by all.
In the past, clerics called mages "Defiers of Heaven," sinners who would readily trample and shatter the natural order for the sake of magic.
—Kuaaaargh!!!
—Wh-Why...!! Kya, kyaaak!!!
—D-Dad!!
—Young Master!! Why, why are you doing this!!!
He brought the very family he had rebuilt to ruin with his own hands.
After slaughtering his parents, siblings, relatives, and servants, as well as the residents of a nearby village, he used their corpses and souls as payment to successfully forge a pact with a demon.
It wasn't long before his atrocities were revealed to the world. He was immediately and permanently exiled from the magic world, and the Russian authorities issued a kill-on-sight order.
But he was never caught, and the case fell into mystery.
Some might ask:
What is the point of bringing up an incident that happened well over a hundred years ago?
“Such a greedy old man.”
After receiving Krasov's "warm" send-off, Dmitri walked down the deathly quiet corridors of the Kremlin.
As befitting a building that had stood for nearly two hundred years, a deep sense of history permeated the air, allowing Dmitri to naturally fall into contemplation.
“Kang Hyun-woo...”
A few days ago, Belmoras had launched a large-scale terrorist attack across the UK, centered in London.
It was an operation involving six Apostles.
The objectives were the resurrection of the Black Flame Dragon, Zerkishinia, who was sealed on the Isle of Avalon, and the retrieval of the Holy Sword Excalibur.
The presence of Duke Winchester and the Duke of Rutland was an annoyance, but the plan to draw their attention was perfect.
However, a single variable caused the plan to end in catastrophic failure.
The Black Flame Dragon was subjugated, and the Holy Sword awakened, accepting a new master.
To make matters worse, Belmoras suffered immense losses, losing four Apostles.
It was the worst possible outcome imaginable.
And the source of it all was now in Russia.
Kang Hyun-woo, a 2nd Grade Elementalist from the Gray Magic Tower.
Dmitri had been aware of Kang Hyun-woo's existence even before he entered Russia.
He had intended to deal with him, if possible.
He didn't have any particular feelings about it.
It wasn't as if he felt any camaraderie with his fallen comrades.
He had merely thought to get rid of a potential obstacle to future plans while he was at it.
But the moment he learned that Kang Hyun-woo had brazenly conversed with Valentina, frequented her workshop, and was even invited to her mansion, Dmitri resolved to tear him to shreds, no matter what.
Though many in the public criticized Kang Hyun-woo for what they saw as blatant hero-making, Dmitri, on the contrary, held his talent and abilities in high regard.
That would make killing him all the more rewarding.
But a problem had arisen before he could act.
—Capture him alive, no matter what.
Recalling the order from above, Dmitri clicked his tongue.
'I'll watch the situation and just kill him if I get the chance. I can just make up an excuse about him resisting fiercely.'
There would be punishment, of course, but covering a transgression with a meritorious deed was a timeless practice.
A meaningful smile spread across Dmitri's lips.
*
Eel, oysters, garlic, chives, and so on.
These are all foods known to be good for virility.
But ironically, the most efficient way to replenish virility, or yang energy, was none other than sex.
Some might scoff at such a claim.
After all, it's not uncommon for older men to feel drained of energy after sex.
But I'm not talking about ordinary sex.
I'm talking about "Chamber Arts.”
Chamber Arts is a Daoist cultivation method that aims to smoothly circulate ki through the proper union of yin and yang.
Instead of unjustly suppressing or indulging in sexual desire, one of the three great human urges, one can achieve harmony between the energies of yin and yang by channeling it through proper methods. The basic theory of Chamber Arts is that this process tempers both body and mind, leading to immortality and eternal youth.
The biggest difference between sex and Chamber Arts is that one must not be overly lustful or celibate during intercourse.
In short, panting and thrusting like a dog in heat won't do a thing.
In Chamber Arts, intercourse is merely a means to an end.
'Well, I'm not one to talk.'
For a moment, the memory of last night, when I'd fucked the Tower Lord all night long, flashed through my mind, but I didn't dwell on it.
What I was planning to do was a form of sexual cultivation modeled on the principles of Chamber Arts, anyway.
I had never formally learned sexual cultivation, but my master had thoroughly taught me the basics of Chamber Arts.
As expected of a Depraved Monk, he was well-versed in Daoist practices.
'Did I come too early?'
It was 7 PM.
The sun had just set, but I had already arrived in front of the Tower Lord's bedroom.
At first, I'd planned to train at a leisurely pace before coming, but I couldn't focus at all and ended up arriving early.
'It should be okay to go in, right? I can sense her presence inside, so it seems she's ready.'
Feeling nervous, I glanced around before cautiously knocking on the door.
Knock, knock—
“Tower Lord. I'm here.”
—...Enter.
The voice from beyond the door was not much different from usual.
It was a cold, subdued tone, devoid of even a speck of emotion.
Creeak—
As I slowly opened the door and stepped inside, I saw the Tower Lord sitting in the middle of the dark room, wearing nothing but a thin slip.
I slowly sat down across from her.
“...You're here.”
The Tower Lord looked at me with a peculiar gaze.
Empty wine bottles were scattered across the table, and her face, revealed under the light, seemed slightly flushed.