Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Translator: Penny
Chapter 26
Ominous Presence 2
Agron didn't hold back his fist.
His devastating strike pierced through the demon's face like a ballista bolt, tearing it apart.
The demon twisted its pitch-black body, confronting Agron with the same attack that had obliterated Baek Woon, Elena, and Jacob in a single blow.
But to Agron, such an attack was no more than a gentle breeze.
"Ah, the wind is refreshing."
This... this can't be happening! There's no way my attacks are useless against a human!
"There's no such thing as impossible in this world. Demons really lack creativity."
With an indifferent expression, Agron seized the demon's arms and kicked its chest.
Crack!
Kreeeeaaagh!
A horrifying tearing sound echoed from the demon's shoulders as both arms were ripped clean off.
Agron gripped the severed arm like a weapon and began to beat the demon with it.
Each strike echoed through the cavern with a heavy, cracking thwack.
Gah! Ugh! S-stop...!
"You dared to harm my weak companions. Shouldn't you pay the price?"
Agron tossed aside the arm, now stripped of its flesh, and seized the demon's head, twisting it off with a brutal wrench.
Y-you... if I manifest again, I'll make you pay...!
"Still talking with your head ripped off?"
Agron tightened his grip, crushing the demon's skull.
Instead of blood, pitch-black smoke erupted, carrying a chilling, ghostly wail that echoed through the cavern before dissipating into the air.
Watching from afar, Baek Woon, Elena, and Jacob wore expressions of stunned horror.
There were hardly any humans who could fight Demons on equal terms.
A human tearing off a Demon's arm and using it to beat the Demon to death was simply inconceivable—a tale that could never exist, utterly impossible.
Yet Agron had ripped apart, crushed, and annihilated a Demon with his bare hands.
They had witnessed with their own eyes something that belonged only in myths.
"Demons aren't so tough after all," Agron said, dusting off his palms as he approached the group.
"Elder, you really coughed up blood after getting beaten by a weakling like that?"
"You..."
"Jacob, your chest is covered in blood too. How do you expect to serve your Master with such pathetic skills?"
"..."
"Elena's doing better, but it seems the North still produces the strongest warriors."
"Th-that..."
They felt anger, frustration, and sorrow at Agron's innocent appraisal.
Of course, the anger belonged to Baek Woon.
"You brat! That was a Demon, a Demon! Not some measly Goblin!"
"Huh? They looked pretty similar to me."
"Didn't you see the difference in their strength?!"
"Huh? They seemed about the same to me."
"..."
Baek Woon wiped the blood from his lips and glared at Agron.
"I've never met anyone in my life who claims to have fought and killed a Demon! What would you have done if it had been stronger?!"
"Huh? It wasn't strong at all."
"No... just in case..."
"It's okay, Elder. You're not weak—I'm just strong. You don't need to feel inferior."
"Gwaaaah!"
Baek Woon, his anger boiling over, swung his staff and smashed nearby rocks to pieces.
What infuriated Agron even more was that Baek Woon's words weren't mockery, but genuine.
"Why is the kid acting like this?"
"He gets violent when things don't go his way. His bad temper is a real problem."
Agron looked at Baek Woon with pity.
"Master," Elena said, her expression crestfallen.
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry... for not being strong enough..."
"It's alright. Not everyone can be strong."
"But... I am strong! I might be weaker than a Mature Demon, but I'm one of the top Vampir!"
"Really? I didn't realize Vampir were such a weak race..."
"...?!"
Agron muttered to himself, recalling something he'd read in a book.
Elena, however, seemed deeply shaken by his words. She covered her face with her hands and curled up in a corner.
"Jacob."
"Yes? Yes, Count!"
Jacob had initially struggled with how to address his former masters, Elena and Agron. Elena had instructed him to call her by her name, while Agron was to be addressed as "Count."
At first, Jacob had tried calling Agron "Master," but Elena declared, "That's my right alone," and insisted he revert to "Count."
"Those two are in no condition to help. Let's investigate this place ourselves."
"Understood!"
Following Agron's orders, Jacob began examining the scattered corpses and the surrounding magic circles, gathering any useful information.
As he was deeply engrossed in his investigation, Jacob suddenly shouted from a distance, "Count! There's a survivor here!"
Agron immediately rushed toward the source of the shout.
A man, his side pierced by Elena's spear, stared at them with terrified eyes.
"Y-you... which branch sent you...?" he stammered, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Branch? We're from the Veilain Branch," Agron replied.
That's not what he meant, Jacob thought, but he didn't correct Agron.
"V-Veilain...? T-that's Six Fingers' territory..."
"...?"
"W-were you sent by Six Fingers...?"
"No, the Guild—"
Before Agron could truthfully answer that they were sent by the Guild, Jacob clamped his hand over his mouth. Even if he got scolded later, it seemed necessary to play along for now to uncover their scheme.
"Yes, we were sent by Six Fingers. Your branch has been too much trouble."
"Hmph... So they knew we were going to summon the Demons first... You were behind the Caravan attack, weren't you?"
The man's face gradually turned ashen, the blood draining from his features.
"What's your branch's connection to the Magistrate?"
"Cough! You're asking that now?"
Jacob nodded. The man spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva.
"He's the one backing us... In return, we gave him a seat at Ananta's table."
"I see. You look like you're about to die. Anything you want to say before you go?"
"No... Nothing. Everything... for the shadows of the world... for Ananta."
With those final words, the man's eyes lost focus.
Agron exchanged a glance with Jacob.
"I suspected something was off, but I didn't think it would be this obvious."
"Indeed. Let's finish cleaning up here and then go deal with them."
Knock, knock.
Magistrate Felipe frowned as someone knocked on his study door in the middle of the night.
"Who is it?"
"Sent from Ananta," a voice replied from outside.
Felipe scowled, then rose from his seat and opened the door. This wasn't the agreed-upon date or location for their rendezvous.
"What on earth are you doing here at this hour—?! No way!"
His eyes widened. The figure in the pitch-black robe had brought her, the woman he had been eagerly awaiting.
Elena's expression was hazy, as if she were drugged, and she swayed unsteadily, looking like she would collapse without the support of the person beside her.
"The woman you requested," the figure said.
"Ooh—you've done well! I never expected her to be brought so easily!" Felipe licked his lips and took custody of the woman.
As he drew closer, the woman's sweet fragrance tickled his nostrils.
The sudden, delightful turn of events made Felipe feel a stiffness rising in his lower body.
"Heh heh heh, I won't be lonely tonight."
"What should I tell Ananta when I go there?"
"Hmm? Just thank them. And tell them we'll continue supplying live sacrifices in the safe, traditional manner from now on. Explain that we had to resort to rough methods this time because this bitch was being too difficult."
"Understood. Should I relay the message to the Yamong Caravan Master as well?"
Felipe's expression darkened at the mention.
"Fuck! I'll enjoy her first, then slowly pass the message along to them later. You don't need to worry about it!"
"I see. Understood."
"Get lost now. I need to spend some quality time with this woman."
"Who said you could?"
At that moment, a chillingly sharp voice erupted from the woman.
Felipe startled and whipped his head around.
Her eyes blazed crimson, illuminating the pitch-black study with an eerie glow.
"No! Why are you awake already?! More medicine—cough!"
Felipe gasped and stumbled backward.
He lowered his gaze to his abdomen.
From the spot where Elena's hand had pierced through, crimson blood gushed forth in a horrifying torrent, accompanied by excruciating pain.
"Y-you... you crazy bitch! What have you done?! How dare you... do you even know who I am?!"
Felipe's face paled as he glared at Elena, his teeth clenched tight.
"Hey! What are you waiting for?! Cut off her limbs now!" he roared at the Organization members outside the door.
He spat out the words with a triumphant, venomous sneer.
"I... I was going to cherish you! I'll torture you all night and kill you brutally!"
A member of the Organization, cloaked in a black robe, opened the door and entered, then removed the robe.
"Oh, hurry up and kill that b—"
Felipe, mid-sentence, fell silent as he recognized the man's face.
It was a familiar face.
"Y-you're this... this woman's comrade?!"
"My name is Jacob, Magistrate."
"You fucking bastards! You think you can attack a city's Magistrate and get away with it?!"
"We merely follow our Master's orders."
Elena stepped forward and gripped Felipe's throat.
"G-ghk...!"
Felipe gasped, his breath escaping in ragged, incoherent gasps.
"If our Master commands it, I would sever the head of this nation's King and present it to him, let alone some petty city Magistrate like you."
"Gah, guh!"
As Felipe gasped for air and struggled, another figure opened the study door and entered.
A flicker of hope briefly lit his face. He assumed it was a servant who had come to investigate the commotion.
"Hmm, you're making good progress."
But his expectations were cruelly betrayed. The newcomers were also allies of the woman.
"How did the work go, Master?"
"Just a little persuasion, and he sang like a canary without stopping."
Agron untied the bundle he carried and thrust its contents—Yamong's severed head—right in front of Felipe's face.
"H-h-hic...!"
"Your so-called comrade spilled everything. How you drugged the women you fancied, what you did to them while they were incapacitated, and which slave traders you sold them to afterward."
"Hrk, hrrk!"
Felipe struggled violently in Elena's grip.
It was impossible to tell whether he was trying to deny Yamong's accusations or simply trying to escape.
"And to think you were a member of the Ananta cult. It seems you used your position as Magistrate to grant them numerous privileges, allowing them to operate freely in this city."
Agron grabbed the Magistrate's tunic and ripped it open with a tear.
The Ouroboros tattoo, previously hidden beneath the fabric, was now clearly visible on his chest.
At Agron's signal, Elena released her grip.
Felipe collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath he hadn't been able to draw properly for some time.
"Hsss, cough, pant..."
"Feels good to be alive, doesn't it, Magistrate?"
"Cough! You... you bastards! How dare you, a mere commoner, kill the Caravan Master and assault the Magistrate without any evidence? Do you think you'll get away with this?"
"Still spouting nonsense even in this situation? Impressive." Agron crossed his arms, looking down at him with a disdainful expression.
"What's your rank?"
"Wh-what?!"
"I understand this city belongs to the Soltidis Fief, and its Master is Viscount Karon Redick. So you're likely no more than a Baronet or Baron, right?"
"Use proper titles and honorifics, you Barbaroi bastard!" the man snarled, glaring at Agron with desperate defiance.
Agron clicked his tongue and knelt down, meeting the man's gaze.
"I am Agron von Veilain, the rightful Master of the Veilain Fief and Count of Veilain, formally bound by feudal contract to the Kingdom of Astraria."
"...What?"
"I have two proposals for you, Magistrate. Choose whichever you prefer."
Felipe stared blankly at Agron and the others, his eyes darting between them.
But their impassive expressions confirmed the truth of Agron's words.
"First, surrender all your wealth and the hidden treasures you plundered by killing adventurers. Hand over everything you know about Ananta."
"What kind of—"
"If you comply, I will ensure you receive a proper trial as a nobleman. You will likely be stripped of your title and reduced to slavery along with your family, but at least you'll have a chance to defend yourself."
Felipe let out a hollow laugh at Agron's words.
The content was utterly absurd.
"Second. You will follow Yamong from this very spot."
For a moment, Felipe, who had been wearing a dazed expression, stammered in disbelief.
"Wh-what did you say?!"
"For your information, Yamong howled like a pig for about an hour before dying in agony. The only reason I brought his head was because it was the least damaged part of him."
Felipe met Agron's burning gaze.
This was no lie.
"Do I have the right to kill you? Let me repeat myself. I am a Count. And you, you pushed me into the dungeon's death trap. Does that answer your question?"
At Agron's chilling words, Felipe nodded weakly.
There was nowhere left to retreat.
"I'll... I'll go first."
"Good choice."
Agron gripped the man's arm with both hands.
"Wait! What are you doing?"
"You still seem confused, so I'm going to perform the Warrior's Ritual."
"Wh-what?"
"Felipe, answer me: are you a warrior or not?"
Agron's icy blue eyes blazed, burning with a ferocity that threatened to tear Felipe apart alive.
📝 Translator’s Note:
You may notice that certain lines or phrases in this novel appear both in their original Korean (or Hanja) form and in English translation.
This is intentional — these phrases are classical idioms, divine titles, or poetic expressions that carry layered meanings.
To preserve their original tone and authenticity, the raw text has been kept for reference, while the English interpretation is provided right before or after it. This helps convey both the literal and cultural nuance of the original work.
but if you guys dont want tha raw for future chapters or my future other novels u can just text me on discord and say so discord name Mr.Penny