Chapter 125
Chapter 125
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 125
Chapter Title: High Class (3)
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Demian's question made the Hanger couple's eyes widen as if they might pop out.
"How do you know that lord's name...?"
"No one but us, his pact-bearers, should know of his existence..."
Without hesitation, Demian stomped down on their heads. There was a sound like a sledgehammer striking.
As soon as the Hanger couple's heads were smashed back into the ground, Demian kicked them away with the tip of his foot. Their embedded heads were yanked free.
"I ask the questions. I'll say it again. Tell me everything you know about Dorgo."
"W-We don't know anything..."
Demian raised his foot again. The couple's faces turned ashen.
"Asking is pointless! We'll never talk!"
"That's right! We'll never betray that lord!"
The couple gritted their teeth and shouted. Demian clicked his tongue at their defiance.
"As expected."
It wasn't for nothing that Dorgo kept the Hanger couple as his errand runners.
The faith and reverence they held for Dorgo had reached a fanatical level.
No matter what torture he inflicted, the Hanger couple would never open their mouths.
"You two are truly pitiful. Swearing loyalty to Dorgo without even realizing your minds were tampered with."
The Hanger couple hadn't volunteered for Dorgo's experiments.
Dorgo had simply kidnapped the four of them and turned them into test subjects.
Even the feelings they harbored for Dorgo had all been forcibly implanted.
"You won't shake us with that glib tongue!"
"Stop wasting time and just kill us!"
But the Hanger couple, blind to the truth, desperately defended Dorgo.
Of course, that didn't mean Demian pitied them.
Before becoming test subjects, the couple had already reached high levels as a Dark Knight and a Black Mage.
It was obvious how many lives they'd sacrificed to attain that realm.
"Fine, have it your way. I planned to ask your souls from the start anyway."
"Our... souls?"
"Don't spout nonsense! There's no way you could use such advanced black magic..."
Demian seized the couple by the throats and hoisted them up.
He had no intention of letting them die easily. He planned to make their final moments agony incarnate.
Lately, Demian had been delving deeply into the Phantom Golden Needles.
From that, he'd developed a torture method that manipulated acupoints to inflict pain and a killing art that ruptured the body.
Demian had gone further, researching the fusion of Phantom Golden Needles and the Tyrant's Power Accumulation Technique.
The Tyrant's Power Accumulation Technique excelled at absorbing mana—not just from nature, but from living beings as well.
Absorbing mana from animals was exceedingly difficult, unlike plants. The Phantom Golden Needles solved that problem.
Using the Phantom Golden Needles to forcibly seize and expand the opponent's acupoints, then employing the Tyrant's Power Accumulation Technique to extract their mana by force.
It was a crude method, so efficiency was still low. The pain inflicted on the victim was beyond imagination. There was plenty of room for refinement.
But right now, neither mattered.
"I didn't create this for trash like you... but since we're here, enjoy it to the fullest."
Demian injected mana into the Hanger couple's bodies. The infused mana began dominating their acupoints.
"Guh... guuuuh!"
"Aaaaagh!"
Normally, the couple's pain had been borne solely by the husband. But the torment from the Phantom Golden Needles was different. Both felt excruciating agony.
"W-What are you doing?!"
"D-Darling! It hurts so much! Darling!"
The husband tried to struggle, but Demian had already fully seized control of their bodies.
Muscles paralyzed, acupoints occupied and pried open. In this state, Demian activated the Tyrant's Power Accumulation Technique.
It generated immense suction. The black mana stored within the couple was forcibly ripped out.
"Kuaaaagh!"
"Kyaaaaagh!"
Hideous screams erupted from their mouths. Their bodies trembled violently as their eyes rolled back white.
At some point, no more black mana emerged. As the pain subsided, the Hanger couple gasped for breath.
"...Guh?"
"...Agh?"
Yet Demian didn't stop the Tyrant's Power Accumulation Technique. He intensified it.
Instead of black mana, their life force was sucked away. An even greater wave of torment crashed over them.
"S-Stop! Stop it!"
"Please... just kill us! Kill us, I said!"
The couple thrashed and screamed. But Demian had no intention of granting their pleas.
Their bodies shriveled like deflated balloons, then dried out like laundry in the sun.
No more screams came. The Hanger couple perished in wretched husks.
Demian tossed their corpses aside.
He expelled all the plundered black mana and vitality outward. He had no desire to absorb such repulsive power.
Soon, souls leaked from the Hanger couple's corpses. Demian seized them.
-Kieeeek!
-Aaaagh!
The souls shrieked, but Demian gripped them tighter, heedless. The two souls wailed their death throes and slowly dissipated.
Demian absorbed the soul remnants. From them, he extracted memory fragments.
'I'll merge this with the memories from the younger siblings' souls.'
He had absorbed memories when he annihilated the younger Hanger pair's souls as well.
Demian sifted through both sets of memories.
-Darling! A message from that lord!
-Huh? When? I didn't hear anything.
-He sent a letter via familiar while you were sleeping.
-Why go to such lengths? We have the mirrors.
The mirrors.
Magical communication devices Dorgo had distributed to his minions.
There had been one in the Corpse Play dungeon too, but no contact from Dorgo's side.
At the time, Demian had assumed Dorgo was in secluded study.
-That lord ordered us to discard the mirrors. He'll send familiars for future contact.
-What? Then we won't hear his holy voice! Why such a cruel decision...!
Even Demian found Dorgo's choice baffling.
'Was he always this thorough?'
Dorgo had never revealed himself throughout his long history. He was exceedingly cautious.
Yet he maintained steady contact with his trusted aides to prepare for the War of Ruin.
'He didn't trust the Hanger couple enough to keep the communication artifacts?'
On reflection, the Hanger couple were mere handymen, not true confidants.
Likely for that reason, he'd ordered the artifacts destroyed.
-Oh, and... this is... um...
-What other orders?
-He said to hand over the Zabak Box to Gasdal.
-What? Why that bastard? That was our mission!
The Zabak Box—the container sealing Erebos's fragment.
He remembered it from his Death Knight days, when the Hanger couple had yammered about it endlessly.
According to them, it was created long ago by the Holy Order to seal Erebos's fragment.
-Then what about our mission? Collect Holy Knights' souls to unseal the Zabak Box!
-We continue... but send the collected souls to Gasdal...
-Why such an order...! Does that lord distrust us?
Unsealing the Zabak Box required souls infused with holy power.
To obtain them, one had no choice but to attack the Holy Order.
That was precisely the Holy Order's aim. Even if someone found the Zabak Box, they'd detect it immediately due to the seal.
The problem was that the box was so ancient, almost no one in the current Holy Order knew of it.
'Gasdal, of all people.'
Gasdal the Selector.
One of Dorgo's confidants during the War of Ruin.
A necromancer, but famous not for masses of undead, but for leading a small elite force.
Gasdal's elite legion had shattered multiple imperial knight orders, boasting terrifying prowess.
'Among Dorgo's confidants, he was a singular genius.'
Gasdal had ascended to Grand Black Mage at a young age, reaching the 10th circle or higher—a monster among monsters.
A Grand Black Mage equated to a master-class knight. In pure magical talent, he rivaled Michael Ryanbloom or the Sword Empress.
'The Zabak Box in that guy's hands... dangerous.'
Erebos's fragment was a massive power source in itself. Nothing good could come from it falling to Gasdal.
'At this point in time, Gasdal should be... in the Almond Earldom.'
The silver lining: Demian knew Gasdal's location.
'He's probably plotting to bolster his elite force there.'
He could even guess the purpose and plan.
Gasdal enjoyed raiding families with talented soldiers or knights, using their souls to strengthen his legion.
In terms of talent and future potential, Gasdal was especially dangerous among the confidants. He needed to be eliminated as soon as possible.
'Perfect timing to recover Erebos's fragment too... off to the Almond Earldom.'
Thus, Demian decided his next destination.
'I've got everything I wanted. Time to free these souls.'
Demian rummaged through the Hanger couple's corpses. A small pouch emerged.
Not enchanted with spatial expansion, but bulky enough to hold plenty.
Demian rifled through it. First out was a glass vial.
Inside swirled a hazy mist.
"Disgusting scum."
Demian scowled and cursed. The vial's contents weren't mere smoke—the souls of Holy Knights and priests they'd slain.
Demian smashed all the vials from the pouch. The souls were liberated and faded away.
Suddenly, Demian's movements halted. The last item wasn't a vial.
A worn, crude bracelet.
"This is..."
Demian glanced at his left wrist. It matched the bracelet he used to store black mana.
"No way... the same relic?"
He brought the two bracelets close. They vibrated and merged into one.
"Huh?"
Even fused, the bracelet's thickness and size remained the same.
Demian sent mana through it to check for issues.
"The capacity... it's increased?"
Lately, he'd often felt his bracelet's capacity lacking.
Moreover, a new ability had emerged. Manipulating it, the bracelet vanished. It had turned invisible.
"Interesting."
Finding another of the same bracelet was surprising enough. Fusing them added a new function.
"Where'd they get something this valuable?"
Likely used to conceal black mana while in hiding.
Demian drew in surrounding black mana and stored it. With double the capacity, plenty of room remained even after filling it.
"Business here's done."
Demian surveyed the area. Fallen Holy Knights and the Hanger couple's corpses lay about.
"...Now how to handle this."
The deed was thrilling. Cleanup was the issue.
Obviously, he couldn't reveal his involvement. That would invite attacks for using black magic.
"Hmm."
How to spin this?
Demian pondered long, then reached a conclusion.
"I'll just play dumb."
As long as his identity stayed hidden, what did it matter?
To prevent the Order from deducing his identity, Demian decided on some manipulations.
"The key is to make the Order chase shadows."
He picked up a nearby twig and wrote under the Hanger couple's corpses.
-Evil must be quelled by evil.
-I came to punish their sins.
-Remember this, you who know not righteousness.
On second thought, insufficient. Demian added more.
-In the name of Victor the Woodchopper.
Now satisfied, Demian nodded with a pleased expression.
* * *
Early morning.
Sunlight pierced from the sky, snapping Nadin awake.
"Those vile heretics!"
Nadin leapt up, drawing his sword. Pain from his torso made him grimace.
But he couldn't dwell on wounds. The battle wasn't over...
Then it hit him.
The world was bright.
He recalled fainting from sudden vertigo for some reason.
"What happened?"
It had been midnight when he passed out. Daylight meant hours had passed.
"The heretics? That monster?"
Nadin scanned around. Sect Holy Knights lay sprawled on the ground.
"They're all alive!"
Nadin rushed toward them, but a strange object halted him.
A shriveled corpse lay abandoned on the dirt.
It hadn't been there last night. Nadin approached as if entranced.
Now he saw.
Two faces attached to one head.
Undoubtedly the heretics who had hounded him yesterday. Such mighty foes, reduced to this pathetic end.
"Who... no, how..."
Dumbfounded, Nadin spotted writing beside the corpse.
-Evil must be quelled by evil.
-I came to punish their sins.
-Remember this, you who know not righteousness.
-In the name of Victor the Woodchopper.
As Nadin read, the Holy Knights stirred one by one.
"Ugh... my head."
"Where's the enemy? Sir Nadin?"
The knights looked around for Nadin, then spotted him reading the words.
"Sir Nadin! You're safe!"
The knights rushed to him. But Nadin didn't respond.
"Sir Nadin? What's wrong?"
Only then did the Holy Knights notice the corpse and writing. Like Nadin, they stared blankly, reading.
"...What do you all make of this?"
Nadin asked the knights.
"The spell that knocked us out was a sleep curse. Meaning the one who killed these heretics and saved us... was a Black Mage."
Obviously, Holy Knights and Black Mages were mortal enemies.
They killed on sight—no saving lives.
"Maybe just settling a grudge. He had no interest in us."
"Could be an executioner from Pandemonium. We weren't the target from the start."
Pandemonium—the empire's largest, most notorious Black Mage cabal.
They occasionally dispatched punishers for members breaking their code.
Perhaps the monsters Nadin fought had violated Pandemonium's rules, prompting execution.
But even that didn't add up.
"Even so, leaving us alive?"
The Holy Knights had been defenseless, cursed into slumber.
A flick of a finger could've killed them—yet they were spared?
No Black Mage would show mercy to Holy Knights.
"That's..."
"Hmm..."
The knights couldn't answer easily. They clutched their heads in thought.
"But what's that?"
One knight pointed at the writing.
"Victor the Woodchopper? A Black Mage by that name?"
"No idea. Never heard of him..."
"Some hermit Black Mage from ages ago, maybe."
The Holy Knights pondered the name Victor at length.