Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Fake (2)
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In the past, among the masters Demian had fought, there was one known as the Sword Minstrel.
Compared to other masters, he wasn't particularly remarkable.
If ranked, he was at the bottom among masters.
Nevertheless, the Sword Minstrel left a deep impression on Demian.
‘He shone in large-scale battles.’
The sound produced when a sword vibrates is called the sword's cry.
The Sword Minstrel possessed a unique technique that infused aura into this sword's cry and propagated it.
Whenever the sword's cry resounded, human bodies exploded, and objects shattered.
‘Thanks to that technique, he held back the undead legion for a full week.’
The tens of thousands of undead legions advanced by Dorgo came to a halt, unable to pierce through the Sword Minstrel's sword cries.
It was a feat no other master had accomplished.
In the end, Dorgo had no choice but to send Demian. After clashing with the Sword Minstrel for an hour, Demian emerged victorious.
“Isn't it a peculiar sword?”
Brody had approached at some point and spoken up.
“It was ordered by a knight once employed by the ducal house. Due to urgent circumstances, he left before the sword was completed, so it never reached its owner's hands.”
“By any chance, didn't that knight provide Resonant Iron and request its forging?”
“Eh? How did you know?”
Metals with special properties are called rare metals.
Adamant, which amplifies mana; Froststeel, which emits cold on its own, and so on.
All weapons called divine arms in this world were forged from rare metals.
‘As expected, it was the Sword Minstrel's signature weapon.’
Resonant Iron was a rare metal that generated vibrations when mana was infused.
Because this unique property interfered with aura formation, knights avoided making weapons from Resonant Iron.
Except for one: the Sword Minstrel.
‘But when we fought, the weapon the Sword Minstrel used wasn't this one.’
The cherished blade he wielded back then was crafted by dwarves.
It contained far more Resonant Iron than the sword before him and was alloyed with many other rare metals.
‘He must have eventually given up on claiming it and forged another weapon.’
The Sword Minstrel could employ his technique even with an ordinary sword.
However, when using a weapon made from Resonant Iron, the technique's power doubled.
‘Did the Sword Minstrel pass through the ducal house?’
Demian didn't know much about the Sword Minstrel.
All he knew was that he had lived his entire life as a wandering knight.
“I'll take this sword.”
Demian picked up the sword without hesitation.
Brody was startled and tried to stop him.
“You know what kind of metal Resonant Iron is, yet you're still choosing that sword?”
“Yes, I'll take this sword.”
Demian could also use the Sword Minstrel's techniques and realm. That's why he knew well.
Though the Sword Minstrel was a weakling among masters, his techniques were different.
They were effective not only against multiple foes but also allowed simultaneous offense and defense.
Their high versatility across various situations made him eager to study them.
“Does this sword have a name, by any chance?”
“The knight who commissioned it said he would call it the Thousand-Li Sword.”
Demian memorized the name and took the Thousand-Li Sword.
* * *
Demian Haksen also took a dagger easy to conceal and a few flying knives, in addition to the Thousand-Li Sword.
After selecting his armaments, as he was leaving the forge.
A woman blocked Demian's path.
It wasn't just one woman. She was accompanied by two men who appeared to be warriors.
“Did you find a weapon to your liking?”
The woman spoke with a bright smile. Demian Haksen tilted his head and looked at her.
She had dark shadows under her eyes, giving her an eerie, gloomy air.
“Who are you?”
“Pleased to meet you. I am Rebecca, attendant to Archduchess Chelsea Goldpixie.”
The woman placed a hand on her chest and bowed gracefully.
“The Archduchess wishes to meet with Sir Demian Haksen. Would you spare her some time?”
He had been planning to meet Chelsea Goldpixie at least once anyway, to investigate her ties to black magic.
He hadn't expected the opportunity to arrive so soon.
“I don't think I have anything to discuss with her.”
But Demian didn't accept the invitation right away. He rejected it once to probe her intentions.
“You never know.”
Rebecca continued with a smile.
“The Archduchess possesses many things. A thorough conversation might yield what Sir Demian Haksen needs.”
She was skirting around it, but ultimately trying to entice him.
To openly attempt to poach a knight aligned with the duke's side.
Demian spoke, harboring strong curiosity.
“Fine. Lead the way.”
* * *
The place Rebecca led Demian Haksen to was a secluded restaurant.
It wasn't particularly large. It was only a single story.
“This is a restaurant personally operated by Miss Chelsea. It runs on a reservation system and is exclusive to nobles.”
Rebecca explained as they walked down the restaurant's corridor.
“For today's meeting with Sir Demian Haksen, the entire restaurant has been cleared out.”
Rebecca's steps halted.
In the large hall, a single dining table was placed. A familiar-faced woman sat there.
Chelsea Goldpixie.
She raised her wine glass and said,
“You're a bit late? Come, have a seat.”
Rebecca did not enter further. Demian went in alone and stepped into the hall.
And the moment he entered, Demian could sense it.
The black magic filling the large hall.
‘Jackpot. I came to investigate Chelsea Goldpixie.’
He had evidence without even needing to investigate.
Demian analyzed the black magic as he walked to the table.
‘Black mana flows in with every breath. It's influencing through respiration.’
Thanks to his memories and experiences as a Death Knight, Demian was profoundly knowledgeable about black magic.
‘It was Enchanting Fragrance.’
A black magic that induced false affinity through aroma, using it to manipulate people at will.
‘At this concentration, one would become a slave within an hour.’
Black magic entered the body with every breath. The concentration was extremely potent.
‘To use a high-level black magic like Enchanting Fragrance and even conceal it—this requires an extraordinarily skilled black mage.’
The reason such powerful black magic went undetected in the heart of the city was due to the concealment black magic enveloping the entire restaurant.
It seemed the black mage behind Chelsea Goldpixie was no ordinary figure.
Most knights would have succumbed to this Enchanting Fragrance.
But Demian was an exception. He possessed the seven authorities imprinted by Dorgo in his previous life.
Thus, most magic and black magic had no effect on him.
‘The Authority of Greed can decompose it without issue.’
Demian decomposed the black magic inhaled through his breath using the Authority of Greed.
The black mana obtained from decomposition was meticulously stored somewhere within his body.
“Why did you summon me?”
Demian sat across from Chelsea and said. Chelsea set down her wine and replied,
“You're quite impatient. How about we talk over the meal once the food arrives?”
To Demian, who had already detected the black magic, her words seemed not like consideration but a pathetic ploy.
“I don't want to waste time unnecessarily. Just say it now.”
At Demian's refusal, Chelsea's eyebrow twitched slightly.
“If you insist, then. I have one demand. Withdraw from the representative position.”
Demian felt no particular emotion at Chelsea's demand. He had expected as much.
“You don't trust Guillaume Blackwing, it seems?”
“Don't misunderstand. If Guillaume Blackwing picks up an axe, someone like you is nothing.”
Chelsea stated flatly. Her voice carried strong conviction.
“However, to fully conserve strength for the duel with the marquis house, that's why I'm making this request. It would be troublesome if he got injured in some pointless duel.”
It was a reasonable judgment.
Unless one side's skill overwhelmingly surpassed the other, blood was inevitable in a duel.
“Why should I grant your request? What's in it for me?”
“If you just withdraw as representative, I'll grant everything you desire.”
Demian let out a hollow laugh at her response.
“How would you know what I desire to say such things?”
“What a countryside knight like you wants is obvious. Money, honor—things like that, right?”
Chelsea sneered, lifting one corner of her mouth disdainfully.
Through this conversation, Demian roughly gauged what kind of person Chelsea Goldpixie was.
‘An arrogantly obnoxious bitch.’
She judged others arbitrarily and drew conclusions recklessly.
It was behavior impossible without arrogance.
‘In a way, she's the spitting image of her father.’
The duke enjoyed testing others as a malicious hobby.
It was an action only possible with the mindset of being superior enough to judge others.
However, the duke didn't express his arrogance as directly as Chelsea Goldpixie.
‘Arrogant and incompetent to boot.’
That was Demian's conclusion about Chelsea Goldpixie.
“You said money and honor? The duke seems better positioned to provide those.”
“It might look that way now. But think carefully. The ducal house will soon be mine. Wouldn't currying favor with the future duchess yield far greater benefits?”
“You're delusional. The duke is still hale and hearty.”
“No one knows the future. Who knows if someone more capable than my father might replace him?”
It was an extremely dangerous statement.
Demian narrowed his eyes and stared at Chelsea Goldpixie.
Suddenly, Demian noticed a small hourglass placed in front of Chelsea Goldpixie.
‘Is she using it to time when the Enchanting Fragrance takes effect?’
Little sand remained. Chelsea glanced at the hourglass, then said to Demian,
“If you understand, go tell my father. That you'll step down as representative.”
Chelsea spoke in a commanding tone.
Her words were laden with strong conviction that Demian Haksen would naturally obey.
In response, Demian immediately replied.
“What if I refuse?”
Chelsea Goldpixie's expression crumbled.
* * *
“W-What? T-This can't be...”
Chelsea shouted in panic. Demian leaned back in his chair and asked,
“What can't be?”
“N-No, I mean... Why on earth would you refuse? I told you, I'll grant everything you desire!”
“I don't need your help.”
“D-Don't tell me you swore loyalty to my father? You're making a mistake. Do you know how cruel that man is? That man, he and my mother...”
Demian raised his hand, cutting off Chelsea Goldpixie.
“I have zero interest in your family drama, so stop talking.”
Demian only cared about using the ducal house to check the marquis house.
He had no interest in what kind of person the duke was.
“Just hear me out! Once you do, you'll understand. How untrustworthy my father is...”
“To begin with, you can't grant what I truly want.”
“What is it? What do you want so badly!”
“My family's happiness.”
Chelsea Goldpixie wore a blank expression at Demian's answer.
“...W-What?”
“My family's happiness, peace, safety—all things you can't provide.”
To protect his family, he needed to check the marquis house.
And for that, Demian Haksen had to participate in the duel and defeat Michael Ryanbloom.
Even without such reasons, Demian had no intention of complying with Chelsea Goldpixie's demands.
Not when she was in league with a damned repulsive black mage.
“I'll be going now. Tell Guillaume Blackwing to prepare well for the duel.”
Demian rose from his chair. He turned to leave the hall.
“...Your family must be quite precious to you?”
Demian paused at Chelsea Goldpixie's words.
“Then shall I put it differently? Withdraw as representative. Otherwise, I'll send people to trample the entire Viscount Haksen household...”
Chelsea Goldpixie couldn't finish her sentence.
Demian's hand had suddenly shot out and grabbed her throat.
“H-How dare you touch my... Gahk!”
Demian tightened his grip. It felt not like a human hand but steel rebar constricting her throat.
“Guhk! Guhgh! Gaaahk!”
Chelsea Goldpixie writhed, unable to breathe.
Demian gazed at her impassively.
As if observing her death throes.
That was when it happened.
“Archduchess Chelsea!”
“How dare you lay hands on the Archduchess!”
The two knights guarding the entrance noticed the disturbance and charged at Demian.
Even as the two knights rushed in, Demian Haksen's gaze remained fixed solely on Chelsea Goldpixie.
“Release her at once!”
The two knights gripped their sword hilts. They drew their blades to strike Demian.
Demian released Chelsea's throat. At the same time, he grabbed the cutlery on the table.
He swung it toward the knights. The dull knives used for cutting meat grazed their throats.
Blood spurted from the necks of both knights. They clutched their throats and staggered.
“It's a shallow cut, so if you apply a potion now, you won't die.”
After saying that, Demian turned back to Chelsea Goldpixie.
Chelsea Goldpixie was slumped on the floor, gasping for breath.
“Chelsea Goldpixie.”
Chelsea looked up at Demian in shock. She began to tremble slowly under his icy gaze.
“The reason I don't kill you here isn't because I'm afraid of the ducal house's retaliation.”
Just moments ago, Demian had wrestled with countless internal conflicts.
Part of him wanted to sever Chelsea Goldpixie's neck right there.
But he felt that would be too merciful a punishment.
“Look forward to it. Tomorrow, what horrors await you.”
Demian left those words behind and walked out of the restaurant.