Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Forced Submission
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The party hall, now a total wreck, was suddenly raided by another group.
As the barely recovered candidates panicked and prepared for battle, Sein raised his hand.
"You've had your fill of watching, huh."
The candidates fell back, realizing they weren't enemies.
"......"
At that sight, a few candidates and the intruders lit up with interest.
"The betrayal by the Rolan family has been confirmed."
The leader of the raid was Kampe.
He was Rasiel's guide.
"Execute them all."
His companions were Rasiel's fighters.
"We surrender!"
"Please...!"
Rolan's men, on their knees begging for their lives.
Slash!
They were instantly slaughtered by Kampe and Rasiel's fighters.
The party wasn't over yet.
"There are quite a few who look like Vice Lord's soldiers."
They were Vice Lord Ode's soldiers.
And their fate was...
"Kill them."
No different from the Rolan family.
Kampe swept in like a wave, clearing the hall in an instant.
"What bullshit."
But all they had done was execute people who had already lost the will to fight, so such words were inevitable.
"Everyone alright?"
Kampe said, looking at the candidates.
"......"
Naturally, the looks directed at Kampe weren't friendly.
But Kampe smirked as if he had expected even that.
"The star of the show..."
His voice echoed quietly.
"...was Sein Demorus, I take it."
As he called out Sein's name, Kampe approached him.
"Good work."
It was praise the candidates couldn't yet surpass, given Kampe's position in Rasiel.
Kampe even tried to place a hand on Sein's shoulder, as if that wasn't enough.
Grip.
But Kampe's hand was suddenly caught in Sein's grasp.
Their eyes met.
Rasiel's fighters moved behind Kampe.
Whoosh.
The candidates stepped behind Sein.
They were rivals, but the truth was everyone there owed their lives to Sein.
Even if not...
"If you don't like it, then let's throw down."
As Valak had said, there was resentment toward Kampe and his ilk for standing by and watching everything before swooping in late to clean up.
Sein and Kampe.
It seemed everything would kick off with their voices.
"Hold up. You'd all die."
The tension eased a bit at Sein's words.
"Besides, we've seen enough blood today."
Sein wiped something Rolan-like from his face.
"Wise choice."
Kampe praised Sein's demeanor as if he approved.
Whoosh.
But Sein's gaze turned cold as he quietly turned away.
"What're you talking about."
And his voice.
"You'd all die."
Kampe flinched involuntarily.
'...What.'
Rasiel's fighters.
Among them, Kampe, who led the combat unit, was one of Rasiel's renowned powerhouses.
And yet.
'Scared of some candidate?'
Not even an heir yet—just a candidate.
He had yielded, if only for a moment, to Sein, who had only just entered the competition.
It was as he said.
-Watch that guy.
The order from Rasiel's master, Alman.
-Sein Demorus. He's a person of interest.
-Not Cisna Roberta?
The command that hadn't made sense at the time now did.
Along with Alman's smile back then.
"If you get it, then scram."
At Sein's voice, Kampe finally backed off completely.
"Act that cocky, and you'll get yours soon enough."
Saving his last shred of pride.
*
*
*
It seemed Rasiel had known about Rolan and Ode's plans even before the candidates arrived.
Otherwise, things wouldn't have wrapped up before a full day had passed since the incident.
"We offer our greetings to the candidates."
Roland's successor and his faction wouldn't have failed to take root in Vice's back alleys so cleanly.
"What about Vice's lord?"
"He had a cousin, apparently."
There was no way another lord could inherit the territory without issue.
"Vice was Rasiel territory, but rumors say the tribute had noticeably dropped lately, among other problems."
Cis spoke quietly to Sein.
"From the moment they sent us instead of Rasiel's fighters..."
"It was all planned, then."
Sein smirked at Cis's words.
With Otlmeo not yet pulling his weight, Cis made for a decent informant.
"Or maybe..."
Even the Dark Oak stirring was part of the plan.
But that was too far-fetched to voice.
The candidates set out for Rasiel amid the chaos in Vice.
They had been excited for their first mission.
Of them, fewer than half returned alive.
Most, worn down by accumulated fatigue from combat and poison, passed out in the carriages.
What was impressive was...
Flinch.
Even so, they snapped to attention at the slightest change around them, instantly ready for battle.
These greenhorns.
In just one mission, they had transformed into decent fighters.
Perhaps because of Demorus blood.
Or the brutal mission.
"Maybe because of me."
At Sein's words, the relieved candidates finally dropped their guard and fell into deep sleep.
They returned to Rasiel three days later.
"Welcome back, candidates."
Alman had come out to greet them.
"This guy's Rasiel's master, huh? Got nothing better to do?"
A brief chuckle at Sein's quiet mutter.
Whoosh.
Alman scanned the candidates.
"I heard about Vice. You suffered at the hands of those insolent thugs."
Nearly half the candidates were dead.
And Alman's voice, knowing it all in advance.
"But thanks to you, things in Vice are neatly wrapped up."
Now everyone knew, not just Sein.
"Good work."
There was no warm academy welcome here.
"Rest until the next mission comes down soon."
Only the brutal, cold underworld of Noir.
Whoosh.
With that, Alman turned and left.
Grip.
The candidates clenched their fists.
They felt much.
Learned much.
And all of it...
Smirk.
Would benefit Sein.
"Were you expecting something?"
At Sein's voice, the candidates looked at him.
"Our great father sows hundreds of seeds like some seeding machine—did you think you'd get special treatment?"
"......"
"Pity for the dead ones?"
Sanctuary was a brutally realistic game.
Countless lives.
Relationships with countless NPCs mattered.
"What a joke. The dead are just rotten seeds. Demorus only wants ripe fruit."
That experience still helped now.
Sanctuary had been everything to him.
"Pissed off?"
"......"
"Simple fix."
Sein smiled.
"Get stronger."
The greatest power in this world.
Raw power, literally.
"Look at me, everyone."
With that, Sein left first.
*
*
*
Sein had gained much from Vice.
A feel for what blessings were, how to nurture the one implanted in him.
Hunted Dark Oaks to learn new skills, awakened perks from the highlight reel, even snagged blessing fragments.
Rasiel knew all about Vice, so they knew of Sein's feats leading the candidates from the front and saving them.
Sein was now Rasiel's most promising candidate.
But that wasn't all.
"Everyone here?"
Dark night.
In a Rasiel training ground rarely used, most candidates had gathered.
"A few missing, but whatever."
At Sein's word, the assembled candidates.
Thud.
Sein perched on the platform, eyeing them.
Faces full of complicated emotions.
Alman's words today had shaken them again.
But.
"Anyone know why I called you?"
None of that mattered.
He had already given them the carrot they needed earlier.
So now.
"What's this about?"
"You guys remember that contract forced on you while poisoned."
No hesitation in cracking the whip.
"......? Wasn't that all voided?"
"Why bring up that contract now?"
The forced contract.
Everyone knew how devastating a magic contract could be.
So when it was forced on them, the world had crumbled.
When Sein snatched the contract, they even felt saved.
A comrade who understood and protected them like no other candidate would.
But.
"......No way."
"What's with that?"
They didn't know.
What kind of man Sein was.
What resolve he carried.
What he intended to do.
"The contracts!"
"So why the contracts?"
"Did anyone see them torn up?"
Someone's voice.
"......!"
The hall froze in an instant.
All they could do was stare at Sein.
Smirk.
He was smiling.
That devilish grin Sein always wore hung on his lips.
"No?"
"Sein Demorus..."
"...For real."
Flutter.
Something fluttered in Sein's hand.
"Right answer, you brats."
"......!"
Magic contracts were in Sein's hand.
Subjugation, commands, lives on the line.
"Don't make those faces. Dead either way, right?"
"We trusted you..."
"I'll put you to good use. And I'll try to keep you alive."
Sein's smirk widened.
Then his voice slowly echoed.
"Kneel, brats."
Thud!