Chapter 138
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 138
He cleared his mind and organized his thoughts.
Alright.
It was now certain that the Pope’s allies were the Orcs.
The fact that the impregnable Felstein had been reduced to ruins in just five hours meant its defenses had collapsed from within, not from without. In other words, there had to be a traitor.
Although no report had come in regarding the traitor’s identity, Ar already knew.
The Paladins must have made their move.
They were the core force of the coup, which the Pope had secretly prepared with the help of the Holy Kingdom.
Yes.
Ar had known for days about the existence of the Paladin Order—the Pope's hidden force—and that the Orcs would attack Felstein.
Finding out had been simple. Since the Pope's standing in the Empire was at rock bottom, the structure of the religious faction was plain to see. Ar had simply kidnapped and tortured someone who was essentially the Pope's right-hand man.
It was also a little gift for the Pope, who had grown careless, believing he was safe. By now, that gift, hacked into dozens of pieces, must have reached him.
As Ar was lost in thought, someone knocked on his office door six times. Recognizing the signal, he turned his head.
Taking his silence as permission, a magic scholar from the Third Eye entered the office and bowed.
"Deputy, preparations are complete."
After passing through the entrance of the Magic Society via several teleportation spells, Ar set his pipe down on a worn table.
Stepping into the underground laboratory, he saw countless test tubes arranged in orderly rows, their contents bubbling endlessly.
"And mass production?"
"We can begin immediately."
"That will be sufficient."
The corners of Ar's mouth curled upward. This was the spark he had been waiting for. The war he had so eagerly anticipated had finally begun.
Naturally, he had no intention of losing. His preparations were already complete.
All he had to do was wait. Wait for tragic deaths to blossom, for them to kill and be killed, to lose and scream in agony. And in the end… for them to reveal all the cards they held.
Yes, the cards in their hands. What Ar wanted was the hand the Pope was holding.
Having tracked the whereabouts of the Masterpieces for the sake of creating Apocalypse, Ar knew one thing for certain.
The Pope possessed two Masterpieces, which he referred to as holy relics. The incompetent fools in the Empire’s upper echelon didn't even know they existed.
Apocalypse…
The only substance capable of harming Swallow had to be forged by melting down all 36 Masterpieces. The more Masterpieces used, the stronger it became.
To make matters worse, he had lost the ‘Wall of Heart’. He had to obtain the Pope's holy relics, no matter the cost.
He had intended to acquire them more cautiously, but now, there was no time left.
It was his own body; Ar knew better than anyone. This war was the only time he had left—his final opportunity. If he hesitated, death would claim him first.
Inside the test tubes, artificial lifeforms squirmed. Gazing at the mesmerizing sight with unfocused eyes, Ar let out a hollow laugh, looking as if he had been truly consumed by madness.
War was a wolf's maw, a Venus flytrap. To bite down and kill in a single breath, he had to hold his own and wait until the Pope ventured deeper. The citizens of the Empire dying in the meantime were simply collateral damage.
"…If everyone in the Edelbreas Black Wolf Knights…"
If they found out about this, none of them could even rationalize it as a necessary evil. They would all turn their backs on him.
But it didn't matter.
Many things were about to change.
*
Epilogue, 2
Azi Dahaka returned to the ‘Cradle’.
The atmosphere was tense. They should have been raising a toast, celebrating the fact that Azi Dahaka, who had gone out at great risk, had returned completely unscathed. However, his expression was far too serious for anyone to express joy. Even Fafnir, who always wore a childish smile, looked stiff.
Regardless of the mood, a meeting was convened in Margar immediately after Azi Dahaka’s return.
Amidst the silence, Azi Dahaka spoke, his voice heavy.
"The negotiations with Swallow went smoothly. It wasn't a definitive promise, but I secured an answer that he would try. That was likely the best response we could have hoped for."
There were no cheers of success or sighs of relief. Such reactions, which should have followed, were absent—Azi Dahaka continued speaking before anyone could even react.
"And Kurak of Nilkumbal has declared war on the Empire."
He then explained the war situation.
Swallow had chosen to remain a bystander, while Bathory showed hostility toward Kurak. Erebos had not attended the meeting, but from what they heard, he was in no position to intervene due to a lack of forces.
However…
"Hexabel has sided with Kurak."
*
Phase. ??
Quite some time had passed since Judeca ended.
Or perhaps, in reality, it hadn't been long at all.
To Yubar, it felt like an eternity, but according to his secretary's report, only four days had passed. For Yubar, who had lived for over nine hundred years, it was a span of time shorter than the blink of an eye.
Yet it feels so heavy.
Every minute, every second, felt as heavy as a thousand pounds of gold. Time crawled when one's heart was heavy.
Even now, as he sat on his throne, cold sweat trickled down his back. Most Demon Kings could control their physiological responses, but his inability to stop sweating was a clear sign of an irresistible terror.
Swallow…
He still couldn't forget that chilling gaze. The horrific atrocities of the past remained etched in his mind, tormenting him. He had dragged out memories he'd barely managed to bury in the deepest parts of his mind, and now they refused to fade away.
The Demon Kings praised Yubar, calling him the ‘Living History of Evil,’ but in truth, he was closer to ‘evil that had luckily survived to write history.’ Yes, he had survived… or so he had thought. Now, the terror of death was once again looming before him.
"Lord Yubar."
The voice calling his name snapped Yubar from the depths of his thoughts.
"You look deeply troubled."
A Demon King, barely a hundred years old, who had recently built a new Demon King Castle, was looking at Yubar with worried eyes.
"Though my skills are humble compared to yours, Lord Yubar, I too am a Demon King. If there is someone troubling you, please tell me."
"It's nothing like that."
"I'll deal with them in an instant."
You'd be the one dealt with in an instant.
Suppressing the urge to snap, Yubar waved his hand, his expression stiff.
Why were the Demon Kings of today like this? Their pride rivaled that of the first generation, but that was all. In short, their skills were pathetic. As generations passed, their bloodlines thinned, and the Power of the Devil weakened along with them. They were a degenerating race.
"Get out of my sight."
A sudden wave of stress washed over him, and the words slipped out in an irritated tone. Unable to withstand the pressure laced within that short command, the young Demon King trembled and fell to his knees.
"L-Lord Yubar, that is…"
"I said, get out."
Overwhelmed by a casual wave of Yubar's hand, the Demon King scrambled backward and fled the room. From Yubar's perspective, watching such pathetic creatures strut around calling themselves Demon Kings was utterly pitiful.
"Is something troubling you, great Sovereign of Evil?"
As the young Demon King withdrew, Yubar's tactician stepped forward to take his place. A brief pang of self-loathing struck Yubar as the tactician's question brought his thoughts back to Swallow. He gave a brief command.
"From now on, omit 'great' from my title."
"Why so suddenly…?"
"Since when did you become so talkative?"
"…Understood, Sovereign of Evil."
He had no idea when he might cross paths with Swallow again. If he carelessly used the word ‘great’ in front of that monster, the entire Demon King race might be wiped out just because Swallow found it offensive. Only after taking this small precaution for the survival of his race did Yubar sink back into his thoughts.
This time, the tactician, who was quicker-witted than most Demon Kings, asked, "…Is this because of the Black Disaster?"
"He is an unpredictable man. I am contemplating how best to deal with him."
"If I may offer my humble opinion, if you cannot defeat him, it would be wisest not to make him an enemy."
"Not make him an enemy, you say…"
Yes.
That was it.
As if struck by a sudden realization, Yubar shifted his aged body. The tactician's advice was a wise solution. What Yubar had been dreading was the possibility of facing Swallow as an enemy again.
"…Melju."
That tiny Demon King was the source of his anxiety.
Hadn't she become fully affiliated with the Primordial Core after Judeca? And he, Yubar, had tried to pluck her horns and fangs. He had undoubtedly earned Melju's hostility.
Melju de Limp Agrea.
Swallow had personally left the Primordial Core just to retrieve her. That meant Melju was highly important to him. What if Melju asked Swallow for revenge? And what if Swallow, who cherished Melju dearly, granted that request?
"…"
Once again, a chill ran down his spine. The intangible touch of death seemed to wrap around his toes and crawl upward. This was the very terror Yubar had been feeling ever since Judeca.
He had to dispel Melju's ill will.
To put it more bluntly, Yubar now needed to curry favor with Melju, who had become a higher-ranking existence.
The answer was a bribe.
No, to put it more respectably…
"We need a tribute."
"…Understood, great Sovereign of Evil."
"I told you to omit 'great'."
"…My apologies, Sovereign of Evil."
"Ignorant and incompetent tactician, this Yubar demands an answer from you. What is the most precious treasure we can send to the Primordial Core right now? There is no time, so answer quickly."
"If I may speak from my humble knowledge, I have heard that a ring of immense power lies deep within the ‘Cliff of Purgatory’. Its value is deemed comparable to the ‘6 Divine Artifacts of Evil’ that adorn your own noble body."
"Are you certain?"
"I know it to be an item so outstanding that some have dared to compare it, however insolently, to your divine artifacts."
"Very well."
The Cliff of Purgatory was a land of death that even monsters hesitated to approach. Within its bottomless abyss, eternal flames blazed, making it a place where even Demon Kings could not escape death if they ventured in carelessly.
"She will undoubtedly be pleased with such a treasure."
No matter that Melju had joined the Primordial Core, her strength wouldn't have increased exponentially overnight. A gift like this would be of great help to her. By wishing for Melju's growth and boundless development, Yubar could also leave a favorable impression on the Primordial Core.
It didn't matter how many monsters died. A noble sacrifice would pave the way for boundless glory.
[Hear me, pitiful seeds of the Demon King Castle.]
Yubar proclaimed to all the monsters in the castle. Though he had only murmured softly, his voice reached every last one of them through the effect of [Message].
"From this moment on, we march to the ‘Cliff of Purgatory’."
*
"This thing," Patrick said, opening his palm to reveal a ring that emitted a brilliant luster. "It was lying in front of the cave."
"Who could have sent it?"
"It didn't say, but there were about three black feathers left where the ring was. Boss, do you know what that means?"
"How should I know?"
"Rene doesn't know either."
"Black feathers… I think I heard that Demon King Yubar leaves black feathers behind…"
Melju tilted her head. She had only heard rumors about Yubar leaving black feathers. As a Demon King with no real connection to him, she had never received anything from him before.
Above all…
"Come to think of it, there's no way Yubar would send me something like this."
"True. It's not like you two are on good terms. No reason for him to suddenly send a gift."
Patrick's jaw clattered as he examined the magic tool. Although the ring emitted a strong magical power, they had no idea why it was sent, so they didn't know what to do with it.
"Isn't Ms. Melju the only one here who can use magic properly?"
"I know how to use magic, too."
"Boss, please don't go around telling people you know how to use magic."
"Hmph."
As Swallow turned his head away in a pout, Patrick's gaze shifted to Melju. Rene, who had been staring at Swallow with sparkling eyes, also looked at Melju after a moment.
Melju took the ring and examined it from various angles before offering a brief assessment.
"This is… not that great."
"It's not?"
"Yeah. In the past, it would have been a magic tool worthy of being called a secret treasure of the Demon King Castle, but…"
Melju spun around. Having ransacked the Primordial Core's treasure vault, she was practically dripping with magic tools. She was already wearing as many rings as her fingers could hold.
"Its performance is worse than the ones I got here. Besides, I can't wear any more. If I force another one on, it'll make my grip on my staff awkward."
"So it's completely useless."
"Still, it's a valuable item. Why don't we put it in the treasure vault?"
At Patrick's suggestion, Swallow, who had turned away, glanced back at the ring. Entering the treasure vault required his presence, which meant he would have to walk all the way there himself. It was an incredibly tedious chore.
After a moment of deliberation, Swallow spoke.
"Let's just throw it away."
——And so, a brilliantly shining ring drifted away down the river near the forest of Graphenia.