Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Black Shadow
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The heart of the royal palace.
The grand audience chamber.
It brimmed with majesty.
'Maybe because it's where you meet the king.'
Damian quietly scanned his surroundings.
Intricate carvings adorned the high ceiling.
Portraits of past kings decorated the walls.
Everything symbolized the kingdom's authority.
'Heavy.'
An oppressive pressure weighed down even the air.
The tension hidden behind the splendor.
These dominated the entire audience chamber.
"......"
And at the end of that pressure.
The king seated on the ornate throne.
'Bernt Kairitus.'
The ruler of the Coldwood Kingdom.
His head was thick with white hair, his face deeply lined with wrinkles.
An emotionless expression that revealed nothing.
'Like a statue carved from stone.'
And below him.
Nobles and officials lined up in rows.
All their gazes focused on one spot.
"Your Majesty, I beseech you once more!"
Prince Bastian Kairitus.
He raised his voice toward the throne.
Damian stood beside the prince, observing the entire situation.
"The situation in the eastern great forest is far more serious than we imagined!"
Desperation laced the prince's voice.
"This is no mere monster wave. It's the precursor to war, a matter tied to the kingdom's very survival! A harbinger of disaster unlike the war with the empire!"
The things he had seen and reported directly from Sobkov Territory.
The intelligence gathered at the cost of the suicide squad's lives.
Everything had been mobilized.
"If we do not prepare now, that disaster will spread beyond Sobkov Territory to engulf the entire kingdom!"
An earnest plea.
But the response was cold.
"Your Highness, are you not being too hasty?"
A middle-aged noble with brown hair stepped forward.
The Minister of Finance, Albert Frommel.
"Monster waves have existed since ancient times—a periodic natural disaster, so to speak. It's a tradition that territories like Sobkov have endured."
Tradition.
Damian's eyebrow twitched at the word.
To call life-or-death struggles a tradition.
"It's an order upheld for centuries. The honorable and loyal houses that support this kingdom bear their own burdens—that is the foundation of our realm. To shake that tradition now? For the royal family and court to step forward? How do you intend to handle the chaos that would ensue?"
Their argument was clear.
They wanted no change.
"And above all, the royal finances are in poor shape. The last war consumed vast military funds. Moreover, Your Highness's support for Sobkov Territory has created new expenditures. It's a deeply concerning situation."
Practical issues.
Tradition, finances, order.
They used them as shields to counter the prince's claims.
'They just don't want to do it.'
Damian saw through their true intentions.
To them, the eastern crisis was someone else's problem.
They had no desire to have more of their wealth squeezed out for it.
'That aside, something feels off.'
At the same time, Damian sensed something suspicious.
Setting aside the debate, that Minister of Finance.
'He reeks of something unusual.'
A stench no one else could detect.
A stench only Damian could sense.
The senses honed by countless devouring detected the faint odor.
'What the hell is this smell?'
As Damian tilted his head in puzzlement.
"......Prince."
King Bernt Kairitus, who hadn't spoken a word throughout the meeting.
The kingdom's absolute ruler finally opened his heavy mouth.
His gaze turned to Damian.
"Is that young man the one to explain what happened in the great forest?"
The moment had arrived.
The king had singled out Damian.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The prince answered firmly.
"He is a survivor of the suicide squad led personally by Lord Mikhail Sobkov, the great lord. A mercenary named Damian Winter, who achieved the greatest feats in that heroic mission where lives were risked without hesitation."
His turn.
But it felt strange.
'I'm not nervous.'
No, he actually felt at ease.
'Different from when I first met the prince.'
Back then, he'd been flustered.
Too soft and polite an attitude.
It had been hard to adjust to that gentle atmosphere.
But now was different.
'This vibe......'
It was familiar.
The tension filling the audience chamber.
Invisible power struggles, blatant hostility.
'No different from the battlefield.'
Swords and shields replaced by words and authority.
A battlefield of clashes.
"......"
Damian stepped forward one pace.
All eyes turned to him.
"Mercenary Damian Winter, at your service, Your Majesty."
A calm voice.
Unwavering eyes.
"Very well."
The king nodded and asked.
Unlike the murmuring nobles, he showed no reaction to the word 'mercenary'.
"Tell us what you saw."
A direct question.
Damian slowly opened his mouth.
"What this lowly one witnessed upon infiltrating the eastern great forest...... was a vast kingdom built by monsters."
That single statement sent ripples through the audience chamber.
A vast kingdom built by monsters?
Reactions of disbelief.
"They were no mere monsters."
Regardless.
Damian continued with the words he had prepared in his mind.
He detailed everything experienced as a member of the suicide squad.
"They had systematic organization, produced weapons and armor, and even crafted siege engines."
Such vivid testimony.
The conviction in his voice overwhelmed everyone.
"From what our suicide squad ascertained, a being called the King of Shamans lurked behind it all. A creature that commanded monsters with spirit power and wielded even the colossal earth spirit."
A shaman commanding monsters.
The focal point that had birthed a new civilization.
Damian's words flowed without hindrance.
"......In the end, our suicide squad succeeded in slaying that so-called King of Shamans at the cost of the three finest knights from Sobkov Territory. However, I do not believe that marks the end."
Damian's gaze turned to the king.
"The area we infiltrated was less than half of the great forest. That King of Shamans was merely like the lord of an advance outpost. The eastern great forest remains vast, and no one knows what threats lurk in its depths."
An enemy veiled in mystery.
Or unknown dangers.
This time, even the officials refrained from open rebuttal.
The on-site realism and sincerity in his voice were too compelling.
"......"
King Bernt's expression grew complicated.
Deep contemplation etched on his face.
"Your Majesty."
Prince Bastian seized the moment.
He stepped forward once more.
"This is not all."
The prince's gaze turned to the audience chamber entrance.
"Sir Gerth!"
At his call, Gerth Kan, captain of the royal knights, entered.
In his hands was decisive 'evidence'.
"This is a cursed conduit we happened upon by chance on our return to the capital."
A powerless hazel staff.
And shards of the shattered crystal orb.
And not only that.
"Kyaaaak!"
A being dragged in while bound.
Ashen-tainted skin, twisted movements.
A corrupted dryad.
"......!"
The officials and nobles who saw it gasped in shock.
"What is this?! How dare you bring such filth into the audience chamber!"
"A cursed conduit?! Horrifying! Remove it at once!"
A torrent of condemnation and fear.
The tantrums of those afraid to face the truth.
"This is the reality we face!"
The prince raised his voice.
"Look back. We have already witnessed the corruption of countless sub-races once friendly to humans. We confront monster waves growing fiercer each year! Do you truly believe all this is mere coincidence?"
Shocking evidence.
Reality laid bare before their eyes.
"......Your Majesty, and esteemed ministers."
The prince made his final appeal.
His voice shook the audience chamber.
"We may be facing a disaster far greater than we imagine."
A disaster much larger than what was visible.
"I beg you to make a wise judgment."
Sometime later.
The long audience finally concluded.
All that remained was the king's decision.
That night.
The prince's office.
"Hoo......"
Prince Bastian let out a deep sigh.
Before him sat Damian and Gerth Kan.
"It's not easy."
The king's deliberation dragged on.
A decision deferred for now.
"As expected."
Gerth said calmly.
"Opposition from some nobles remains fierce. Especially the faction led by the Minister of Finance......"
Minister of Finance Albert Frommel.
The central noble faction tightly knit around him.
Their influence could not be ignored.
"In the end, it means we lack justification."
The prince smiled bitterly.
"To sway their hearts—no, to make them follow—we need something more concrete."
A decisive card to flip the board in one go.
But there was nothing they could do right now.
"Your Highness."
Damian, who had been listening quietly.
He cautiously spoke up.
"Speak."
"I'm not sure if I should mention this."
"It's fine. Go ahead."
"That Minister of Finance you just mentioned."
The stench felt in the audience chamber.
That faint, peculiar smell.
The moment he tried to bring it up.
"......!"
Damian sensed something.
A sensation of his body freezing in an instant.
'This is......?'
His ingrained senses stirred.
The ability gained from the earth spirit.
That sense warned Damian.
'Below the floor.'
In the dead of night.
A sinister energy emanating from deep within the palace.
And faint presences too.
"......By any chance."
Damian carefully opened his mouth.
"Is there something in the palace underground?"
"Hm? The palace underground?"
The prince asked with a puzzled expression.
"What's wrong?"
Gerth reacted as well.
His eyes sharpened.
"Some kind of...... ominous presence."
"An ominous presence? How can you sense that from here?"
The prince asked incredulously.
"It's a sense honed crossing life and death in the great forest. I'm sensitive to earth's vibrations and energies."
A suitable excuse.
But it worked perfectly.
"I see......"
The prince fell into thought.
"A place where a suspicious presence might be felt in the dead of night......"
The deliberation didn't last long.
There was exactly one such place.
"......The underground prison."
Everyone's expressions hardened.
The evidence that was the cursed conduit.
And the corrupted dryad.
All of it was confined there.
In preparation for any unforeseen events.
"......!"
At that moment.
Damian and Gerth rose from their seats simultaneously.
"We'll move first."
Flash!
The two shot out like arrows.
To prevent any potential mishap.
Thud!
At the entrance to the pitch-black underground prison.
A dull sound, and one guard collapsed.
Thud!
Another guard followed suit.
Both unconscious, enveloped in black energy.
"......"
The black-robed dark mage who had felled them.
He descended into the prison without hesitation.
'Quiet.'
It was a prison, but no ordinary one—this was the royal underground prison.
Not for common criminals, but mainly for political prisoners or punishing royalty.
Thus, no other inmates.
'There it is.'
The innermost solitary cell.
The corrupted dryad bound and imprisoned there.
And beside it, the staff and shattered crystal orb shards.
"Tch."
The dark mage clicked his tongue.
"What idiots go around dropping this stuff."
Irritation laced his voice.
"I won't let this slide."
As he muttered and reached out.
Shhh......
Black shadows rose from beneath his feet.
Soon forming into a shadow monster.
[Grrr......!]
The creature gripped the iron bars.
Crunch!
The bars tore away simultaneously.
A monster with clear 'substance'.
"Hold still. First, recover these."
The man entered the cell.
He first retrieved the staff and shards.
"And that filthy thing......"
His gaze turned to the dryad.
A wretched creature bound and immobile.
"......Just kill it."
The moment he issued the order.
[Grrrrr......?]
The shadow monster sensed something.
It clashed with someone charging in at the same time.
Boom!
A massive impact echoed through the underground prison.
"......!"
The dark mage turned in surprise.
A knight was swinging his sword there.
'Gerth Kan......?'
The kingdom's greatest knight, Gerth Kan.
The dark mage panicked upon confirming his presence.
'How did he know?'
An unexpected variable.
But only for a moment.
"Kill that one first! Hurry!"
With his shout.
The shadow monster rampaged.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Gerth's sword intertwined with the shadow monster's arm in midair.
A monster even the kingdom's top knight couldn't easily subdue.
As the clash between two mighty beings continued.
Flash!
Another figure burst from behind Gerth.
"......!"
A man charging with terrifying momentum.
Damian Winter's eyes gleamed.
'That's the one.'
Damian's eyes filled with gluttony.
The source of the sinister energy.
Prey he could not let escape.
Shing!
The Elven Sword gleaming in the darkness.
Its silver blade targeted the dark mage.
With momentum to devour everything.