Legion
Author: Michael Sisa
Date: 2022-05-29T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: An Arch Magus dies, only to find himself in the body of a young man in a medieval Kingdom. He finds out that he is the second son of a Duke, exiled to a desolated town by his own family. Shackled by the notorious reputation of his new shell, he tries his best to develop his domain, implementing new policies and innovations, leading his subjects to prosperity. In this world where magic is undeveloped, he shall once again pave a new path.

Table of Contents

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 1

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 2

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 3

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 4

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 5

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 6

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 7

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 8

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 9

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 10

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 11

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 12

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 13

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 14

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 15

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 16

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 17

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 18

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 19

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 20

VOLUME 9 CHAPTER 21

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 22

VOLUME 9: EPILOGUE

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 1

A few hours after the coronation ceremony, instead of resting for the night, Lark proceeded with the next step of his plans. With the help of several trustworthy individuals—particularly Gaston, Big Mona, General Carlos, the Grand Chamberlain, and the former King Alvis—he started reviewing the profiles of the nobles currently residing in the capital.

His goal was simple: to find competent individuals who could act as his hands and feet.

Lark knew, no matter how capable the sovereign, it was impossible to do everything alone. A ruler was nothing without his people.

“After recent events,” said the retired General Carlos, “most of these nobles won’t hesitate to answer your summons, Your Majesty. They’ll probably be more than happy to become part of your faction.”

Unlike King Alvis, Lark held an amount of authority that had never been seen before in a king in this kingdom. Not only did he manage to cull the plague called the Kelvin Family, he also managed to rally the majority of the high-ranking nobles under his banner.

A king that belonged to one of the ducal houses. An unprecedented event in the history of the kingdom.

A king who held the might of not only the royal family, but also the Marcus Family.

“I don’t need yes-men to answer my beck and call,” said Lark, his eyes scanning the document he held in his hand. Stacks of papers—each filled with information regarding the various nobles and officials of the kingdom—piled up on top of his table. “I’m not looking for puppets, Viscount Carlos.”

General Carlos nodded. “Of course. So, do you have anyone in mind, Your Majesty?”

Your Majesty.

Lark was starting to become used to this title.

“This one,” said Lark. He placed a parchment on the table and slid it toward General Carlos.

“Lord Chase?” said General Carlos.

“I really want him,” said Lark. He sighed. “But it’s not like we can leave Golden Wheat City, one of our major cities, without a competent ruler, right?”

It was truly unfortunate.

Out of all the nobles and officials on the list, the Lord of Golden Wheat City was the only one who perfectly fit Lark’s criteria. The man was trustworthy, and despite being born a commoner, he was competent enough to transform a small city into one of the major cities of the kingdom.

Lark remembered the awarding ceremony a year ago. Out of everyone present that day, only Lord Chase approached and talked to him. It was apparent from their first encounter that the Lord of Golden Wheat City could see beyond appearances—he could see a person’s worth, without taking their social status into consideration.

Also, based on the records, after the kingdom was struck by the black famine two years ago, Lord Chase suppressed the inflation of the price of grain in Golden Wheat City, enabling the nearby territories that had been devastated by the famine to buy the crops and somewhat recover from the catastrophe. Despite being presented the perfect opportunity to earn massive amounts of money, Lord Chase chose to be virtuous and benevolent. He chose to extend a helping hand to the other territories of the kingdom.

He was really the perfect candidate to become one of Lark’s people.

The former King Alvis stroked his beard. “Chase, huh? Indeed, he’d be a great addition to your faction. But, King Lark, that man has no intention of leaving his territory. I’ve tried recruiting him several times before, but to no avail.”

“King Lark,” said the Grand Chamberlain, “if recruiting Lord Chase is impossible, how about recruiting his daughter?”

“His daughter?” asked Lark.

“Yes, My King,” said the Grand Chamberlain. “His daughter, Irene, is well-versed not only in agriculture, but also in theology and commerce.”

Hearing this, Big Mona smiled. “I’ve met her before, partner. Like her father, she’s a stubborn one. Even when she was losing hundreds of silvers each day after opening the Sahanda Road, she remained firm and resolute in her decision.”

Big Mona started recounting the time he met Lord Chase’s daughter a few years ago. According to the fat merchant, the daughter of the Lord of Golden Wheat City opened a road connecting several towns and villages to Golden Wheat City—and she did this using her own funds, the money she’d saved her whole life.

This would have been a profitable venture, especially if she went ahead with her plan of exacting toll from the passing merchants. But with the advent of the black famine, this plan went down the drain. In order to lift the burden off the merchants’ shoulders and make sure the prices of commodities remained as low as possible for her people, for an entire year, Lady Irene waived the passage fee to Sahanda Road.

“Interesting,” muttered Lark after hearing the story. “Viscount Lakian.”

“Your Majesty,” said the Grand Chamberlain.

“Lady Irene should still be at the capital. Contact her for me. Tell her that the crown wishes to see her tomorrow, at noon.”

“It shall be done, King Lark,” said the Grand Chamberlain.

“And these people.” Lark placed a thin stack of documents on the table—the profiles of all the people he’d found qualified for the position. “Make sure I meet all of them tomorrow.”

The Grand Chamberlain looked at the list and was surprised to see several unexpected names. Most of the people on the list belonged neither to the royal faction nor the Marcus faction.

***

Arzen Boris and Mokuva Boris were surprised upon receiving the summons from the crown. Since the coronation ceremony had taken place just yesterday, they knew that wasn’t King Alvis summoning them, but the newly crowned king, Lark Marcus.

“What do you think, brother?” said Mokuva, who looked even frailer than before.

“What’s there to think about?” said Arzen, clearly annoyed. “Even though we don’t like that brat, it’s not like we can ignore the summons of the royal family.”

Mokuva muttered, “You’re right.”

With heavy steps, the two of them arrived at the throne room of the king’s castle. Lark Marcus was already sitting on the throne, wearing the same stoic expression.

Arzen gnashed his teeth upon seeing the new king. Although Arzen did not covet the throne, he did not find it pleasant seeing Lark Marcus sitting there.

Although he was against it, Arzen had no choice but to kneel in front of the new sovereign. Together with Mokuva, he lowered his head and knelt. At the very least, they knew the crown should be afforded this much respect.

“We greet His Majesty, King Lark!” the Boris brothers said in unison.

Lark studied the two for a moment.

“You may raise your heads,” said Lark.

The Boris brothers raised their heads and gazed at the young man sitting on the throne.

“It’s been a while, Arzen,” said Lark.

Arzen gritted his teeth. “Indeed, Your Majesty.”

“Mokuva Boris,” said Lark.

The frail-looking man respectfully replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I read the book you wrote,” said Lark. “Fifty-Seven Assault Tactics, was it?”

Although the title sounded lame to most people, those who’d read it knew it would be used in the military academy for generations.

“Yes. I’m honored that Your Majesty has read my work,” said Mokuva.

Lark rested his chin on his right hand. He said to the frail-looking man, “Most of the strategies written there were… let’s say, unconventional. I believe some of them have never been used in war before. Especially that tactic of emptying out a city and striking at the heart of the enemy. Some would say it’s a stroke of genius, while some would say it’s a gamble, a careless move in Hayangji.”

Hayangji was the most popular strategy game in the kingdom. Each player had seventy wooden pieces, representing cavalry, light infantry, archers, mercenaries, magicians, guardians, knights, and kings.

Based on what Lark heard, Mokuva had been the reigning champion of Hayangji for seven years now.

“You’ve never attended the military academy due to your poor health,” said Lark. “Tell me, how did you come up with those strategies?”

Unlike his brothers Arzen and Aris, Mokuva Boris had always been sickly. He couldn’t even attend normal classes due to his frail body, let alone enter the military academy. Thankfully, Count Boris was among the richest nobles in the kingdom. Using his vast wealth and authority, he made sure that Mokuva received an education in their estate in Daxton City.

“I have my own personal library in Daxton City, Your Majesty,” said Mokuva. “Three thousand four hundred and seventy-seven books. I’ve read all of them at least once.”

This answer surprised even Lark.

Lark said, “How old are you?”

“Thirty-one, Your Majesty.”

“Thirty-one,” muttered Lark.

Judging by his age and the number of books he’d read, it was apparent that he’d spent most of his life cooped up inside that library, reading every day.

Lark did not dislike such dedication. “Interesting. So, you wrote that book using the knowledge you’ve gleaned from reading everything in your library?”

Lark had read Mokuva’s book. And even he was impressed by the strategies and concepts.

“That is correct, King Lark.”

Lark smiled. The man had exceeded his expectations. What a great find.

Lark looked at the man kneeling next to Mokuva.

Arzen Boris. The eldest son of Count Boris. After Count Boris had become bedridden due to illness, Arzen acted as the head of the Boris Family. Currently, he was the highest official, overseeing everything in Daxton City.

Lark had been to Daxton City before. And although the city had its flaws, Lark could say that it was governed by a competent lord. Despite his personality, Arzen fitted the requirements Lark was looking for.

“I called the two of you here to make a proposition,” said Lark. He paused then added, “Or maybe the word ‘offer’ fits better?”

Arzen Boris and Mokuva Boris looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

“As you’ve probably noticed, I didn’t call for Aris, one of the High Priest candidates of the kingdom,” said Lark. “The reason is simple. I’m looking for people to become pillars of this nation.”

Arzen and Mokuva quickly realized the new king’s intentions. He was looking for government officials. It seemed that Lark Marcus was here to offer them positions in his faction.

“I need men who would be able to properly lead the army that I’m going to create. The Blackstone Legion,” said Lark. “A catchy name, isn’t it?”

With that word as the cue, the five suits of armor quietly standing next to the walls started to move. Each of their steps created loud clanking sounds.

“These suits of armor are sentient to a certain degree,” said Lark. “They don’t feel pain, and will keep on following orders even when their bodies are cut and dented.”

The suits of armor stopped right before the throne, and as though they were knights serving their lord, they all knelt.

“The Blackstone Legion. An undying army consisting of thirty thousand soldiers,” said Lark. “It will take some time and, more importantly, money. But it should be feasible to create them within a year.”

Hearing this, Arzen and Mokuva shuddered. They’d heard before that Lark Marcus used a unit like this back in the war with the empire. They’d heard how the metallic monsters tore through the gates of Akash City as though they were made of parchment, not solid wood.

Thirty thousand of them?

The amount of iron needed to create them aside, that number of metallic monsters would be enough to destroy even the Great Empire.

“B-But is it possible?” Mokuva found the courage to speak out his doubts. “It would take an absurd amount of gold coins to create such a massive army. Forgive my impertinence, Your Majesty, but I heard that the royal family’s treasure is almost empty…”

“I’ve already procured the necessary funds,” said Lark.

Although he would end up spending a portion of the treasure inside the golden statue, Lark didn’t mind. He knew it was a necessary expense to ensure the Kingdom of Lukas would survive.

Arzen and Mokuva probably thought the Blackstone Legion was meant to subdue the surrounding nations of the kingdom, but in reality, these suits of armor were a countermeasure against the demons. This much military might would be needed if they wanted the human race to survive this predicament.

Fortunately, the Sword of Morpheus alone was more than enough for Lark to continue creating the Blackstone Knights. Moreover, with the help of Jaraxus and the Arzomos, procuring the necessary bodies of monsters for the extraction of essences would be a simple task.

“All that’s left are the iron ingots required to create this massive army. And, of course, the military officials to lead them,” said Lark. “So, what do you think, Arzen? Mokuva?”

Arzen carefully said, “King Lark, I’m aware of all your achievements during the war with the empire. But please think through this plan carefully. The kingdom, as it is now, will fall into poverty if the new king decides to allocate all remaining funds into the military.”

Lark liked the fact that Arzen still chose to voice his thoughts, even after Lark ascended the throne.

Indeed, this was what he needed. People who would voice objections if they thought the monarch was straying on the wrong path. Lark didn’t need yes-men who would always follow his whims and commands.

“So, what do you think is a proper alternative?” said Lark.

Arzen fell silent as he pondered. He said, “Cut the number of soldiers from thirty thousand to five thousand, and use the remaining funds for the development of roads and the agricultural sector instead. Now that the black famine has been culled, it’s the perfect time to do this, King Lark. There’s also the issue regarding the ports and the destroyed Kelvin Duchy. And since Your Majesty belongs to the Marcus Family, there should be no conflict if you decide to finally develop the mines near Silen River. I believe that most of the monsters from Louan Plains were taken care of after the recent war with the empire. With the absence of the monsters in the territory, developing the mines should now be feasible. A seventy–thirty cut. Seventy percent of the profits shall go to the royal family, the remainder to the Marcus Family. I’m sure that this would be a fair proposition, even for Duke Drakus.”

Lark nodded. “Excellent. Everything you said is perfect, Arzen. But there’s one thing you failed to take into account…”

Arzen looked at him quizzically.

“And that is where the funds will be coming from,” said Lark. “The funds we’ll be using to create the Blackstone Legion will come not from the royal family’s treasury, but from my own pocket. I may not look like it, but I’m quite rich.”

Lark smiled in amusement.

“F-From your own pocket?” said Arzen in disbelief.

They were talking about thirty thousand living suits of armor here. Although the Boris brother did not know exactly how those metallic monsters were made, each of them must have cost a lot of money. Even if Lark was the second son of a duke, it seemed unlikely he’d have the astronomical amount of money needed to create all of them.

“That’s right.” Lark nodded. “Funding the various projects I’ll be implementing in this kingdom will not be a problem, I assure you that.”

Money would be useless if all the human nations were wiped out by the demons anyway. Lark wouldn’t hesitate to use the treasures stored in the golden statue.

Lark took out two small crystalline vials from his pocket. He said to a nearby personal guard, “Give one to each of them.”

The guard was among the fifteen soldiers tasked to accompany Lark all the way here from Blackstone Town. Now that he’d become king, they’d been promoted to personal guards of the nation’s king.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” said the guard.

Still kneeling, Arzen and Mokuva received the crystalline vials. Sloshing inside was liquid gold, or was it something similar? They weren’t sure.

Lark said, “Arzen, I heard that the former captain of the royal knights is your teacher?”

Arzen nodded. “That is correct, Your Majesty.”

“Consider that potion as a gift. You can give it to the Knight Captain, or you can keep it for yourself. Just know this—that potion can bring a person near his death back into full health. It goes without saying that it’s capable of regrowing even amputated arms. Your teacher, Captain Symon, lost one of his arms, right?”

Arzen’s eyes widened.

The potion indeed looked incredibly expensive, but he hadn’t expected it to have such miraculous effects. If it was capable of bringing an almost-dead person back to full health, this vial could probably be sold for tens of thousands of gold coins in the market.

The potions Lark had given them were pinnacle-grade potions. Currently, Lark couldn’t concoct them due to the unavailability of ingredients. Fortunately, there were fifteen vials stored inside the golden statue. And just for the sake of recruiting these men, Lark decided to hand out two of them.

“Mokuva,” said Lark.

Mokuva’s hands were trembling. He, too, was staring at the crystalline vial with wide eyes.

“I heard that your father, Count Boris has fallen ill. You can choose to keep that potion to yourself, or give it to your father,” said Lark.

“Y-Your Majesty, the healers said that father has around a year left to live,” said Mokuva. “Would t-this potion really help him regain his strength?”

Without a hint of hesitation, Lark replied, “Of course.”

Mokuva carefully stored the vial inside his inner pocket. He lowered his head until it touched the ground.

“If this potion can indeed bring my father back to good health,” said Mokuva. “I, Mokuva Boris, vow to serve His Majesty until the end of my life. I shall serve as your limbs. And if my health finally fails me, if the time comes that I can no longer move my body, I shall use my eyes, ears, and tongue to continue serving His Majesty.”

“The potion will help your father regain his health,” said Lark. “I assure you that.”

Mokuva looked up and gazed at Lark, before bowing his head low once again. His head struck the ground, creating a loud thud sound.

“I am truly grateful Your Majesty!” said Mokuva.

Lark looked at Arzen. Contrary to his little brother, Arzen hadn’t come up with a decision yet. He looked conflicted.

Arzen also wished for Captain Symon to regain his lost limb, but he wondered if this was enough reason for him to serve King Lark. There was also the question of whether or not the potion would really cure the count and the former captain of the royal knights.

“Please give me some time to think about it,” Arzen eventually said.

Lark found this reasonable. “Of course. You can take the potions with you and go.”

Arzen bit his lip. He had not expected Lark to let them go this easily. He said carefully, “Are you telling us that it’s fine to take these potions for free?”

“That’s right,” said Lark.

Although the number of pinnacle-grade potions was limited, it was not like he was wasting them on useless individuals. The count held the highest political power in the southwestern territories, while the former captain of the royal knights was a man well-versed in both military tactics and martial arts.

In a sense, this was a calculated gamble by Lark.

There was also the fact that Captain Symon lost his arm due to Blackie in the first place.

“I shall not take them from you even if you decide not to work for the royal family. Worry not, the crown shall take no offense. You can take the potions with you,” said Lark.

Arzen lightly bowed his head. “Then, we’ll be taking our leave for Boris County.”

“Two months,” said Lark without raising his fingers. “I hope you’ll be able to come up with an answer by then, Arzen. The same goes for you, Mokuva.”

The frail-looking man shook his head. “If this potion indeed brings my father back into good health, I’ll depart from Daxton City on the same day and serve you, Your Majesty.”

Lark found this answer satisfactory. He smiled and nodded.

After the two brothers left, Lark summoned the next person he was interested in recruiting for his faction. The daughter of the Lord of Golden Wheat City.

A woman in her early twenties entered the room and knelt before the throne. She had the same sun-kissed skin as her father, and the light blonde hair of her mother. Her eyes were sharp and golden.

“Irene Chase greets His Majesty.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 2

When she was young, Irene heard a statement from the leader of a group of passing nomads. A statement that left a deep impression on her:“A lagmyx born in a nest of condors will end up devouring everything by the time it reaches adulthood.”

The meaning was simple: An incompetent ruler would ruin even the strongest of nations.

Irene was not a staunch believer of titles and peerages. Like her father, she believed a person’s worth wasn’t measured by bloodline. Rather, it was measured by his ability to lead, by his morals and choices in difficult times.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” said Lark Marcus. “You may raise your head.”

Irene slowly raised her head and gazed at the new king sitting on the throne. Although she’d seen him during the coronation ceremony, this was her first time seeing him this close. Without the makeup and the gaudy clothes he’d worn during the coronation ceremony, he looked younger.

“I wouldn’t dare refuse the summon of the crown,” said Irene.

She’d heard of various stories regarding Lark Marcus before. Not only from her father, but from her friends and acquaintances in the capital. Although the various atrocities he’d committed before had already been dismissed as mere rumor, Irene believed that some of them probably had an inkling of truth. After all, there was no smoke without fire.

“You’re younger than I expected,” said Lark.

I should be the one saying that, thought Irene. Judging by looks alone, the new king was probably younger than her by several years.

“I’m flattered to hear so, Your Majesty,” she respectfully replied.

For several seconds, Lark sat there silently as he gazed at her. Unlike her father, Irene concealed her real thoughts well.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Lady Irene,” said Lark. “I believe you’ve been acting as your father’s right-hand man since you were twelve, correct?”

She said impassively, “The circumstances back then forced me to be, Your Majesty.”

“It’s been fifteen years since then,” said Lark. “With your help, your father managed to turn your territory into the largest grain-producing region of the kingdom. An impressive feat, I must say.”

“All credit belongs to my father, Your Majesty,” said Irene. “I merely followed his orders and executed them to the best of my abilities.”

“Is that so?” said Lark.

Nothing good would come out of flaunting one’s abilities incessantly. Irene had experienced her fair share of troubles whenever the opposition in Golden Wheat City learned of her capabilities. She believed that it was unnecessary, even foolish, to reveal all of her cards here.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Irene. “The rumors must have been blown out of proportion. I wouldn’t dare say that I’ve been working as my father’s right-hand man in managing the city. Everything from commerce, to the development of the agricultural sector, are the achievements of the current lord.”

“Even the creation of Sahanda Road and the partnership with the Youchesters?” said Lark. “What about the Farmer-Miller Agreement five years ago? The founding of the textile workshop and the creation of the agricultural school near Fork Meadow?”

For a second, Irene’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure. The new king had diligently done his research on her in such a short period of time.

A subtle smile started forming on Lark’s face. “Are they your father’s achievements too?”

Irene was momentarily at a loss for words. She suppressed a sigh from leaking out. She shook her head and said, “No, Your Majesty.”

Lark chuckled. “You’ve been trying to downplay your achievements. I don’t understand. Most people would proudly flaunt them, especially when they’re before the king of a nation.”

“A nail that sticks out gets hammered down, Your Majesty.”

“Not if you’re protected by a sturdy shield, Irene,” said Lark. “Although much of your character remains to be seen, I believe you’re more than qualified to serve a cabinet position in my regimen.”

Irene did not expect that she’d been summoned here today for this. She didn’t expect the new king to offer her such a high-ranking position available only to high nobles.

“Irene, become my personal secretary,” said Lark. “Someone as intelligent as you must have noticed already—there’s a void that needs to be filled after the fall of the Kelvin Family.”

Indeed, she had noticed.

Although the Kelvin Family had been leeching the life of this kingdom for generations, they held several key positions in the government. Moreover, most of their allies were powerful and affluent individuals who’d been helping run this nation.

Although it seemed fine as of now, the void left by the loss of one of the three ducal houses would eventually be felt by the entire kingdom in the years to come.

“Is this an order from His Majesty?” said Irene, her golden eyes glimmering.

“No,” said Lark. “It’s a request. Or maybe the word ‘offer’ fits better? No coercion. If you decline, you’ll suffer no penalties or consequences.”

“I see,” said Irene, her voice trailing off. She looked at the ground and started to ponder. Eventually, she said, “May I ask a question, Your Majesty?”

Lark nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Why me?” said Irene. “The king’s secretary holds power comparable to the Royal Advisors and ministers. There are a lot of other people who fit the role more perfectly.”

She was expecting a complicated answer, but she didn’t get one.

Lark said confidently, “My intuition and eye for people has never failed me before. I believe that you’re right for the position.”

His words were peculiar, considering his young age. But surprisingly, Irene found them genuine. Her intuition told her the young man was telling the truth.

How strange, Irene thought.

Lark tapped his armrest twice. “Again, no coercion. Take your time and discuss this offer with your father.”

Irene fell silent for a moment. She bowed her head. “Please grant me a couple of days to think, Your Majesty.”

“Granted,” said Lark. “I look forward to your answer in a few days, Lady Irene.”

“My heartfelt gratitude, Your Majesty.”

After the meeting, Irene left the throne room. Her mind muddled with thoughts from the meeting with the new king.

What is he doing here?

She was surprised to see a familiar face upon leaving the room.

Kalavinka Kelvin, the undefeated admiral of the sea. The boy was well-known for having never been defeated by the Mullgray Pirates. Although the ports and the Kelvin Duchy had been destroyed by the demons, based on what Irene heard, Kalavinka noticed the arrival of the demons before everyone else. It was a pity they didn’t have an army capable of stopping the demons’ advance stationed at the ports. Had things been a little different, this boy would probably have been able to stop the demon horde.

Seeing him here, Irene came up with a conjecture. It seemed that the new king was trying to gather talented people by his side. Surprisingly, he did not discriminate between factions and houses.

Irene met Kalavinka’s gaze. The boy immediately lowered his head and stared at the ground.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you here, Lord Kalavinka,” said Irene politely.

Although the Kelvins had lost their ducal status, she still treated him with the utmost respect. His father was the scourge of this nation, but she believed the boy was innocent.

He looked up at Irene and opened then closed his mouth. Unable to find the courage to utter a word, he nodded instead.

Irene smiled kindly. “It seems you’ll be summoned inside soon by His Majesty. I’ll be on my way, Lord Kalavinka.”

Irene bowed her head and walked away, disappearing from sight.

Irene was right, the guards standing at the entrance to the throne room called for Kalavinka.

“Kalavinka Kelvin,” said one of the guards. “His Majesty is calling for you.”

Kalavinka swallowed dry spit. For several seconds, he stood and steeled himself.

“His Majesty is waiting,” said the guard.

Kalavinka slapped his cheeks twice to rouse himself. “Yes!”

The door to the throne room opened, revealing the luxurious carpet that led all the way to the king.

Kalavinka nervously walked forward and knelt before the throne.

Unlike King Alvis, Kalavinka did not know the new king’s demeanor. The boy prayed to the Gods that the new king wouldn’t mind his stuttering voice and awkward gait. He fervently prayed the meeting would end in a smooth manner.

“K-Kalavinka K-Kelvin greets His Majesty!”

He sounded weird, Kalavinka knew. His voice was a mixture of crescendo and decrescendo, like a squealing boar being butchered by a hunter.

An awkward silence fell.

The ice was broken by the king. “You may raise your head.”

Kalavinka raised his head and gazed at Lark. Although Lark was older than him by only a few years, he looked so dignified—they were beyond comparison. For a moment, it even felt as though Duke Drakus had become younger and ascended the throne.

“First, I must apologize for what happened to your family,” said Lark Marcus. “Although Duke Kelvin committed various crimes worthy of the death penalty, it still pains me that a house that served as this kingdom’s pillar since the time of its founding has fallen into ruins.”

Kalavinka lowered his head and clenched his fists.

He was reminded once again of the death of his father. Thankfully, the hair covering his face was hiding the dark circles around his eyes. It also partially covered his sunken cheeks.

One of the kingdom’s pillars since the time of its foundation—Kalavinka had not expected the new king to recognize their house’s contribution to this nation.

Although they’d become the laughing stock of the people, although they’d become subjects of mockery and ridicule, they couldn’t erase the fact that the House Kelvin helped found this nation.

Their history dated back hundreds of years.

It vexed Kalavinka that the people easily forgot everything they’d done for this kingdom after a single scandal. Forget the fact that most of his brothers had been imprisoned for treason, even their remaining soldiers and servants had left them. Some had gone as far as stealing the remaining assets of the family, leaving their estate empty.

It was unforgivable, but Kalavinka couldn’t do anything but watch as everything was taken from them. He was helpless, powerless.

“Treason is a crime punishable by death,” said Lark. “Normally, all family members, down to the fourth generation, are executed.”

Kalavinka shivered.

Now that he thought of it, although Calisto and the other remaining members of the Kelvin family involved with the underworld syndicate had been thrown into prison, none of them were executed like their father.

“But I couldn’t do that,” said Lark. “After all, you wouldn’t want to work with someone who’d ordered the execution of your entire family, right?”

Kalavinka looked at Lark. Although he understood what the new king was implying, the boy still asked, “W-What do you mean, Y-Your Majesty?”

“I want you to work for me, Kalavinka,” said Lark. “If the reports I’ve read are all true, it’d be foolish of me to let an individual as talented as you go.”

Lark pointed his index finger at Kalavinka and released a thread of mana.

“Tell me, what do you see?” said Lark.

Kalavinka immediately replied, “A-A seagull?”

Lark smiled. “I see.”

Lark snapped his fingers, and the thread of mana changed shape once again. Although Kalavinka was not certain, it felt like the thread of mana had become thinner.

“How about this one?”

Kalavinka looked at Lark, then at the image in front of him. “I-It’s a sword.”

Lark leaned back on his chair and muttered to himself, “I see. My hunch was right.”

For several seconds, he stared at the boy kneeling before him. Lark said, “Five years. Work for me for five years, Kalavinka, and I promise that I’ll help you rebuild your household. Freeing your brothers is feasible too, depending on the circumstances by that time. Listen, your talent is not limited only to sea battles. I’m sure you’ll do well even on land.”

Not only limited to sea battles?

Kalavinka was flustered. He didn’t understand what the new king was trying to say.

“W-What do you mean, Your Majesty?”

“The first image, the seagull,” said Lark. “It’s made using very tiny threads of mana that are almost invisible even before a trained magician’s eyes. As for the second one, the image of a sword, it’s made not by mana, but by life force.”

Life force? It’s possible to create images using life force?

Kalavinka had never studied magic, and this was the first time he’d heard of this.

“L-Life force?” he said worriedly. “T-Then, Your Majesty…”

Lark chuckled. “Don’t worry. The amount I used is so minuscule that I’ll be able to easily recover it by tomorrow.”

For some reason, it seemed that the new king was really pleased with him.

Was seeing those images really an impressive feat?

“Even I could hardly discern the shape of the sword I made using a tiny portion of my life force,” said Lark, amused. “Honestly, I was worried that it would end up taking a weird form, but judging by what you said, it did look like a sword.”

Kalavinka realized that despite being the caster, Lark couldn’t see the sword as clearly as him.

“I’ve read the reports,” said Lark. “You noticed the demons several hours before they even arrived at the port.”

Kalavinka hesitantly shook his head. “I… d-didn’t know they were demons at that time, Your Majesty. I-I just felt that several creatures were headed toward us.”

“Kalavinka, you have a natural talent in discerning the mana and life force of all creatures in this world,” said Lark. “It’s no wonder you’ve never been defeated by the pirates. It’d be near impossible to defeat someone who can accurately gauge your exact position on the sea. Although my perception of mana is probably higher than yours, your ability to see through a person’s life force exceeds mine.”

Lark extended his hand. “You’ve seen the demons, Kalavinka. They will come again and invade this nation. And I need your help defending this kingdom.”

The tentacled monsters who parasitized and slaughtered the people of the port—Kalavinka vividly remembered them. Sometimes, they even appeared in his dreams, together with the naval soldiers who died just so he could live.

Kalavinka knew he would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to take revenge on those demons.

Kalavinka gnashed his teeth and firmed his resolve.

For the first time without stuttering, he spoke, “Rebuilding our ducal house, releasing my brothers from prison. If I work for you for five years, can you promise me that you’ll grant all of those, King Lark?”

Lark nodded. “Of course. But know just one thing. The next duke of the House Kelvin will not be your brothers, but you, Kalavinka. I have no desire to give power to treasonous bastards. Keep that in mind.”

***

After leaving the castle, Irene went back to their estate in the capital. Unlike most nobles, their mansion was located not in the Inner District, but the Middle District.

Irene divulged everything that had transpired to her father.

After hearing the story, Lord Chase chuckled. “What’s there to think about? You’ve been looking for a way to improve the lives of the farmers of this kingdom for years now. Becoming the king’s secretary would give you the power to shift the reformation in the direction you want, my dear daughter.”

Lord Chase placed his large, hairy hand on top of his daughter’s head. He ruffled her hair gently.

Irene lowered her gaze. “But, Father, you’ve heard the rumo—”

“They’re called rumors for a reason,” interjected Lord Chase. “I’ve met King Lark before, when he was nothing but a lord of a small town in the middle of the wilderness. Listen, Irene. That young man discovered the way to cull the black famine and disseminated the information to everyone without seeking anything in return. How much do you think such a piece of information is worth?”

Irene could easily come up with an answer to her father’s question: Tens of thousands of gold coins. And if the deal was executed perfectly, it would be feasible to obtain more than that.

After all, the black famine was a problem that haunted not only the Kingdom of Lukas but also its adjacent nations. Even the Great Empire suffered annual crop loss due to the pesky swarms.

“We can stay here for a couple more days,” said Lord Chase. “Try to come up with a decision by then. Take your time, my dear daughter.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 3

George and Austen were enjoying their stay in the capital.

As disciples of the new king, not only were they treated with utmost respect during their stay in the king’s castle, they also enjoyed numerous privileges available only to high nobles.

The brothers were living the dream. A luxurious life, considering they used to be errand boys in Lion City before they met Lark.

“Hey, thich ich good!” said George, his mouth full of meat. Bits of meat and spit flew out as he spoke. He swallowed, emptied his tankard of juice, and spat, “Try it!”

Austen sighed and shook his head. He rebuked his little brother, “Don’t you feel any shame? The maids are staring at us.”

The two were in the dining hall used exclusively by the royal family. After getting permission from Lark, the brothers came here and ordered the kitchen staff to cook them various food available only to nobility.

“So what?” said George shamelessly. “We got permission. Stop being a worrywart and just eat.”

George was becoming more and more cheeky with each passing day. Austen worried that their newly acquired status as the king’s disciples was getting to his head.

“At least chew quietly,” said Austen.

George leaned forward. “Hey, didn’t you notice?”

“What?”

George grinned. “I’ve gained some height this week. At this rate, I’ll be taller than you in a year or two!”

Austen’s eyes widened. Forget manners—his pride wouldn’t allow him to be smaller than his little brother. He stared at George, and after realizing he was telling the truth, Austen nervously looked at the various dishes on the table.

Austen gnashed his teeth, breathed in deeply, and started stuffing his mouth with meat. He’d heard that meat would make a man’s body stronger and bulkier. Maybe this way, he would still end up taller than his little brother.

“H-Hey, that’s the last one! That’s mine!” protested George upon seeing Austen take the last slab of red boar steak.

“Shut it!” said Austen. It was amazing that he could speak clearly despite stuffing his mouth full of meat. “You’ve eaten your share already!”

Watching the brothers bicker, the maids who’d been attending to them started giggling. Some even started openly laughing. Their gazes took an abrupt turn. From judgmental gazes, their eyes were soon filled with fondness.

“Young sirs,” said one of the maids, her lips curled upward. Her eyes were beaming as she looked at the brothers. “We can just ask the kitchen to cook more of those if you desire.”

Austen and George looked at each other. They smiled and said in unison, “Then, more of this dish, please!”

The maids laughed. “Please wait a moment, young sirs!”

***

For three hours, the brothers did nothing but pig out in the dining hall. George ended up eating seven slabs of steak, while Austen ate six. They also tried various desserts and juices. It was enough to feed five people.

“I can’t walk anymore,” huffed George. His abdomen was bloated from overeating. “Are we there yet?”

Austen looked like he was close to vomiting. He was also huffing. “You moron. This is why you shouldn’t overeat.”

“Sure,” said George. “Are we far from our rooms? Why is the castle so big anyway? Heavens, I feel like dying. Whoever made the hallways this long is evil! And the stairs. Why are there so many stairs!”

Austen nodded to George’s rumbling. Although he knew it was nonsense, he still ended up resenting whoever made the castle this big.

Austen halted in his steps. He looked at George in shock.

Seeing Austen’s frightened expression, George furrowed his brows. “What?”

“H-Hey, we still have training later, right?”

George turned pale upon hearing this. He almost vomited on the ground.

“W-Wait! Surely, the old man will understand, right?” said George. He shivered, recalling how Anandra pushed them to their limits during their last training. That old man was a demon, he was sure.

“Let’s hurry!” said Austen.

George repeatedly nodded his head. “Let’s go!”

The two were about to run toward their rooms when they heard voices.

“It’s those town hicks again,” said a deep voice.

“I can’t believe the new king is letting them inside the throne room,” said another.

The brothers hid behind a wall. At first, they thought the voices were talking about them. But soon, they realized they were talking about the fifteen soldiers who accompanied Lark to the capital.

“What do they call themselves again? Blackstone Soldiers?” said the deep voice. “Damn maggots! I’ve been a royal guard for five years, but I’m hardly given the chance to guard the throne room! But those fools! Just because they were serving King Lark before, they’ve been assigned to the throne room!”

Austen and George understood where they were coming from. For royal guards, being assigned to protect the throne room must have been the highest honor. It was the position where they were closest to the king, after all.

But now, out of nowhere, a small group of soldiers from a town in the middle of the wilderness replaced the royal guards assigned in the throne room. It was natural that they didn’t look at these new guards fondly.

“I alone could probably defeat all of them. Those greenhorns! They probably don’t even know how to properly wield a sword!” said the deep voice. “Ah, how annoying. I should be the one serving the new king!”

Austen frowned. As someone from Blackstone Town, he didn’t like someone talking about the Blackstone Soldiers in this manner. He’d seen how diligent the Blackstone Soldiers had been in their training. Even when they were close to collapsing, they did not stop stabbing their spears. Even the old man—Anandra—said the Blackstone Soldiers were already adept with the basics of spearmanship.

Austen didn’t know what kind of training the royal guards of the king’s castle had undergone, but he was sure that the Blackstone Soldiers wouldn’t lose to them, at the very least in spirit.

“And did you see how they couldn’t even hold their spears properly during the coronation ceremony? They can’t even keep them straight!” said the deep voice. “As a faithful soldier of the royal family, it’s embarrassing!”

Austen clenched his fists.

He decided to hold it in. Although he disagreed with everything the man said, he knew this was not the time or place for squabbles. The best thing they could do was to hide, wait, and let the royal guards pass through.

“Hey, take that back!”

Austen’s jaw slacked seeing George come out of their hiding place. His little brother was flushed from anger. He looked like he wanted to pummel the royal guard to the ground.

“H-Hey, what are you doing!” said Austen. He also went out of hiding and held George’s arm.

“I said take it back!” spat George. He glared at the muscular, two-meter tall royal guard in front of him. Beside the muscular man, seven other royal guards stood.

“Don’t start a fight!” whispered Austen.

“Who are you?” said the tall royal guard—the owner of the deep voice from before.

One of the royal guards behind him said, “Cherry, they’re the disciples of King Lark.”

The predatory gaze of Cherry softened somewhat. He sighed. “I see. You’re the kids under the wing of His Majesty, King Lark. I am Cherry, the Assistant Vice Commander of the Royal Guards.”

There was reverence within Cherry’s voice upon the mention of Lark’s name. It seemed that although they despised the Blackstone Soldiers, they still remained loyal to the king.

“That’s right,” said George fearlessly. “And you’re that bastard who kept on slandering our soldiers.”

Austen tightened his grip on George’s arm. He realized that if this went on, things would really get out of hand. He whispered to George, “Hey, stop. That’s enough.”

George spat back, “That’s enough? Brother, show some backbone. You heard everything this pig said, didn’t you? The Blackstone Soldiers couldn’t even properly wield a sword, a spear? Lies! If only they’d seen how hard our soldiers worked! How diligently they trained!”

Cherry’s brows twitched upon hearing George call him pig. But, he remained still. At the end of the day, these kids were the disciples of His Majesty.

“I heard that the two of you know magic,” said Cherry. “Forgive my insolence, young masters. But magicians are normally incapable of seeing through the flows of swordsmen and spearmen. I meant it when I said that the Blackstone Soldiers are greenhorns who couldn’t even properly wield their weapons.”

Before things escalated even further, Austen decided to mediate. He moved in front of George. He lowered his head and said, “My brother is still young, so please forgive him.”

Cherry’s eyes swiveled from Austen, then to George, and back. He carefully observed the brothers. He nodded. “Of course. Please don’t worry about it, young master. We’ll be on our way.”

Cherry politely bowed his head. With him at the lead, they passed by George and Austen.

George was still angry at them for slandering the Blackstone Soldiers. He raised his voice. “No wonder you have a girl’s name despite that muscular body. Cherry, was it? Why didn’t your mother name you Chris instead? Maybe because you have such a small weenie that she mistook you for a girl!”

The last few words of George echoed in the hallway.

Cherry halted in his tracks. The faces of the royal guards around him started draining of color. Some of them even started clinging to Cherry’s arm, as though trying to prevent the muscular man from rampaging in the hallway.

“D-Damn it, why did you have to talk about his name, of all things!” said one of the royal guards.

“H-Hey, Cherry. You have a manly name. Don’t take the kid’s words to heart, okay?” said another royal guard.

“What did you say?” growled Cherry.

Bloodlust oozed out of the Assistant Vice Commander. So much that Austen and George found it suffocating. They realized that they’d touched a sore spot.

Still, to Austen’s horror, George did not back down. “I said a muscular pig like you has a girl’s name!”

Cherry’s eyes widened with rage. His shoulders trembled as he started walking toward George and Austen. Some of the royal guards tried to stop him, but they were easily pushed back by the giant, muscular monster.

“You!” said Cherry the moment he stood in front of George.

Three royal guards wrapped their arms around Cherry’s body. They were all terrified that the Assistant Vice Commander would start hitting the king’s disciples.

“Hey, Cherry! They’re still the king’s disciples! You can’t hit them!”

“Calm down, man!”

George and Austen nervously gulped, but still stood their ground.

“I know,” said Cherry. “Hey, kid. You said that the Blackstone Soldiers know how to properly wield their weapons, didn’t you?”

“That’s right,” said George.

“I really want to hit you, but I can’t do that, since you’re His Majesty’s disciple,” said Cherry. “I may look like this, but I’ve vowed to dedicate my life to the crown. Call me a monster all you want, but I still have my pride as a royal guard. So, how about this? Tell the greenhorns—those Blackstone Soldiers—to meet me at the training grounds tomorrow morning. I’ll beat them to a pulp in front of you.” Cherry laughed. “People like them, who reached their current status due to luck, wouldn’t be able to win even if they all attacked me at the same time.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 4

The altercation between George and the Assistant Vice Commander of the Royal Guards blew out of proportion. Within the same day, the entire castle knew of the conflict between the royal guards and the Blackstone Soldiers.

When Lark heard, he smiled in amusement.

“Your Majesty,” said the Grand Chamberlain, frowning. They were in the throne room. “We should do something about this. No matter who wins, it’ll put a dent in the relationship between the two groups.”

Lark looked at the six Blackstone Soldiers standing guard near the throne. Although they were standing straight and pretending they couldn’t hear anything, the subtle movements in their bodies and small changes in their facial expressions gave them away—they were all listening attentively, unsurprisingly since this event involved them.

For a moment, Lark wondered who was stronger. The soldiers he’d trained using the humanoids born from the essence of basilisks or the royal guards who’d been through numerous battlefields?

Although it may seem like a petty squabble from an outsider’s point of view, Lark believed it could lead to problems later on if they did not address the issue.

“Please allow me to punish Assistant Vice Commander Cherry accordingly,” said the Grand Chamberlain.

Lark said, “If the reports are true, then the Assistant Vice Commander is indeed in the wrong. But my two disciples, Austen and George, are also at fault. Wouldn’t it be prudent to include them in the punishment as well?”

The Grand Chamberlain was at a loss for words. He knew how much the new king cherished his disciples. He was horrified at the thought of punishing those kids, even if they were in the wrong.

“T-That’s…” the Grand Chamberlain struggled to find the right words. “Young Masters Austen and George are still young. I believe that it’s unnecessary to—”

“Viscount Lakian,” said Lark.

The Grand Chamberlain lowered his head. “Your Majesty.”

“I may be a doting master, but I am a fair one,” said Lark. “Being my disciples may give them special privileges in the castle, but it does not grant them exemption from punishment. Call all the people responsible for this mess here. Including George and Austen.”

The Grand Chamberlain hesitated. “As you wish.”

Upon Lark’s orders, George, Austen, and all the royal guards who were present during the squabble were summoned before him.

They walked nervously and upon reaching the throne, knelt.

“We greet His Majesty, King Lark!” the royal guards said in unison.

“We greet Master!” the brothers said in a small voice.

Everyone, Cherry included, was trembling. It was rare even for royal guards like them to be summoned to the throne room due to squabbles like this.

“Starting now, no one shall speak unless they are given permission to,” said Lark, his voice cold and piercing. “First, the Assistant Vice Commander of the Royal Guards. Cherry, is it?”

Cherry, his muscular body trembling, swallowed dry spit. “Y-Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Several castle servants witnessed what happened,” said Lark. “I heard that my cute little disciples and you were so loud that your voices echoed in the hallways.”

Lark omitted the part wherein the castle servants heard him slandering the Blackstone Soldiers nonstop.

“I… I am ashamed, Your Majesty!” said Cherry.

“I believe you have several dissatisfactions regarding the personal guards I brought with me,” said Lark. “Let’s hear them.”

Cherry glanced at the six Blackstone Soldiers currently tasked to guard the throne room. They should be in that position, not these greenhorns. He bit his lip in resentment. After firming his resolve, he poured out all of his complaints.

“I believe that it is unfair, Your Majesty,” said Cherry, “for mere soldiers of a town to suddenly be promoted to royal guards in the throne room. They don’t even have the proper posture when holding a spear! They clearly do not know how to fight! We can’t let such amateurs guard one of the key areas of the castle, the throne room!”

The faces of the six Blackstone Soldiers assigned to guard the throne room today started crumpling. Their grips on the shafts of their spears tightened as they listened to the Assistant Vice Commander.

“For such soldiers to guard the throne room where His Majesty is frequently residing,” said Cherry in a heated voice, “is unacceptable!”

Cherry’s last few words echoed in the throne room. Lark looked at the royal guards kneeling before him, at his two disciples, then at the Blackstone Soldiers standing nearby.

Indeed, the way the Blackstone Soldiers were holding their spears looked awkward. But Lark knew it was a habit they’d formed after fighting the humanoids of the Training Hall every day, for several months. Although it looked stiff at first glance, it was actually a posture they’d naturally developed after considering the various angles an attack could come from. After all, the humanoids of the Training Hall had very long limbs that substituted as their weapons. Limbs that could bend and twist at impossible angles, making their attacks harder to evade.

Although the older royal guards’ posture was ideal for ceremonies, the posture of the Blackstone Soldiers was ideal for battles and surprise attacks.

Still, Lark did not voice his thoughts. There was no need for unnecessary conflict here. He’d already thought of a better way to resolve this.

“I will take your words into consideration,” said Lark.

Cherry smiled. “Thank you! Your Majesty!”

“Next, George,” said Lark.

“M-Master…”

The kid was also trembling. Tears were evident at the corners of his eyes.

George started formulating various reasons for picking a fight against the Assistant Vice Commander. But to his surprise, Lark didn’t ask for any. Instead, his master immediately meted out punishments.

“Six months. The two of you will no longer have access to the royal kitchen for six months,” said Lark.

George and Austen looked at each other in shock. They were expecting Lark to side with them, given that he was their master. They did not expect their beloved master, who’d always forgiven them with a smile, to become this strict and unforgiving the moment he became king.

“As for your training,” said Lark. “I will ask Anandra to increase the intensity at least twofold.”

The brothers were horrified.

“W-Wait!” said George. “Please, anything but that! If master asks that old man to increase our training even more—”

“George,” said Lark. Seeing Lark’s cold gaze, the kid immediately shut his mouth. “You are no longer disciples of the Town Lord, Lark Marcus. You are now disciples of the Seventh King of Lukas. You need to learn to act as such. Take this as a lesson. Do not act so rashly in the future.”

A subtle smile formed on Cherry’s face. He hadn’t expected the king to be this fair when dealing with these matters. Honestly, he’d expected the king to favor the kids—after all, they were disciples who’d been with him since he was still the lord of a faraway territory.

Cherry inwardly gloated.

Serves those kids right!

“But, as your master, it would be unfair for me not to commend your courage, for not backing down even when facing these veteran soldiers. Your courage, protecting the pride and dignity of your comrades,” said Lark. “So, let’s do it this way.”

There was a pause. Lark looked at everyone in the throne room.

“A fifteen versus fifteen fight,” said Lark. “Royal guards versus the Blackstone Soldiers. If the Blackstone Soldiers win, George and Austen, who tried to defend their honor, will no longer be punished. If the royal guards win, I shall take Assistant Vice Commander Cherry’s advice and remove the Blackstone Soldiers from the throne room.”

Although there were punishments and rewards involved, all sides knew that this was a fight with their honor at stake.

Austen meekly raised his hand.

“Austen,” said Lark.

“If the Blackstone Soldiers win… then we can continue using the royal kitchen?”

Lark nodded. “That’s right. And you’ll no longer have to undergo increased training under Anandra.”

The brothers looked at each other.

George smiled broadly. “Then let’s do that, Master!”

Cherry furrowed his brows. It sounded like the kid was confident the Blackstone Soldiers would win against veteran soldiers like them.

The way the kid answered, it seemed as though he didn’t doubt the capabilities of the Blackstone Soldiers at all.

“Cherry, what do you think?” said Lark.

Cherry looked at his comrades—the royal guards who’d been with him for years. Just like him, determination was evident on their faces.

“We’ll do it, Your Majesty,” said Cherry, his voice predatory. “Please look forward to the royal guard’s display of skills.”

Lark looked at the Blackstone Soldiers. He chuckled. “I would have loved to ask for your thoughts regarding this matter,” he said playfully. “But with the way things have turned out, it’s not like you guys have a choice, right?”

The Blackstone Soldiers couldn’t utter a reply to that. For some reason, it felt like Lark was enjoying the way things were going.

Lark clapped his hands once. “Very well. We’ll proceed as planned. Tomorrow morning, we’ll hold the group match at the training grounds. The six of you,” Lark said to the Blackstone Soldiers, “switch with the guards outside. You may rest for the day. Inform your comrades regarding this matter and get ready for the match.”

***

Anandra had just finished his training when he heard of the match between the royal guards and the Blackstone Soldiers.

His body still soaked with sweat, he found the fifteen Blackstone Soldiers in their quarters, their faces filled with anxiety, their bodies restless.

“C-Commander!” greeted Pell, the current leader of the Blackstone Soldiers in the capital.

“I told you I’m no longer the commander of the Blackstone Soldiers,” said Anandra as he started removing his shirt. He wiped his sweaty body with a towel. “I heard what happened. The fight is tomorrow morning. What are all of you doing here?”

Instead of training, the Blackstone Soldiers were here in the quarters, as though they’d lost all hope and were trying to hide from everyone.

The Blackstone Soldiers looked at each other and lowered their gazes.

“About that…” mumbled Pell. “We… We don’t know how it’ll be even possible to win against the royal guards. You’ve seen how Cherry fought during training, sir. He’s a monster worthy of his title as the Assistant Vice Commander. He alone could probably lay waste to all of us.”

Anandra put on a clean shirt, tied his hair in a ponytail, and looked at all of the Blackstone Soldiers in the room.

In a calm voice, Anandra said, “Ask yourselves. Is the Assistant Vice Commander stronger than the humanoids of the Training Hall?”

The eyes of all the soldiers widened as realization struck them. Anandra’s question rekindled something within the Blackstone Soldiers’ hearts.

He was right.

Although the Assistant Vice Commander was strong, the humanoids of the Training Hall in Blackstone Town were stronger.

They’d been fighting against those metallic monsters on a daily basis for months. Some of them—Pell included—had been fighting them for more than a year.

The Blackstone Soldiers started to realize that the Assistant Vice Commander wasn’t that terrifying in the first place. Unlike the humanoids of the Training Hall, the Assistant Vice Commander was human. If he failed to block an attack, he would bleed. If the fight was prolonged, he would be exhausted. The difference between him and the humanoids was like that of heaven and earth.

“If the answer is yes,” said Anandra. “Then start preparing yourselves to get beaten to a pulp.” Such brutal words flowed smoothly out of the golden-haired man’s mouth.

“But if you find the answer to be no…” Anandra showed a rare smile. “Then, won’t it be exciting? They’ve been looking down on our group for quite some time now.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 5

“As early as always, Your Majesty,” said Gaston.

The old butler entered the king’s room to rouse him from sleep. But Lark was already up before the castle’s morning bell even rang. Lark stood in front of the windows as he gazed at the garden below.

He slept later and woke up earlier than most people.

Lark turned around and greeted the butler, “A pleasant morning, Gaston.”

Judging by the traces of sweat on the new king’s forehead, it seemed that he’d just finished his meditation. Or was it training? Gaston was pretty sure that Lark had mentioned a similar-sounding name before.

“A pleasant morning, Your Majesty.” Gaston bowed.

Although there was still resentment within him, gradually, Gaston was becoming used to the current state of things. He’d already asked Evander Alaester if it was possible to bring back the old Lark. But to the butler’s dismay, even the legendary magician did not know of a method to bring the real Lark back.

Gaston knew he should be grateful that the legendary magician did not take offense at his question. That question was, after all, akin to asking him to die and leave his current body. Even Gaston wasn’t so foolish to bring up such a question a second time.

“Bath and breakfast have been prepared,” said Gaston, his right hand adjusting his monocle. “Also, Big Mona has just arrived in the castle and wishes to discuss several things with you.”

“It’s probably regarding the promised reformation of the slums,” said Lark. “Gaston, add an additional seat to the table. I’ll speak with him during breakfast.”

“As you will.”

After taking a bath, Lark went to the dining hall exclusive to the members of the royal family. A sumptuous feast had already been prepared on the table. After Lark sat down, he gave the signal to the guards to let the fat merchant inside.

“Let him in,” said Lark.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

The door to the royal dining hall opened and the merchant, whose skin was glowing, entered.

“Ah, partner!” Big Mona said in a loud voice, his right hand holding a stack of parchments. “Or should I call you Your Majesty instead?”

Big Mona was frequently seen grinning from ear to ear ever since the death of Duke Kelvin. Even for a man with great ambitions like him, destroying the roots of the largest underworld syndicate was an extraordinary feat.

The fat merchant must have been in euphoria all this time, after finally reaching his current position.

“Sit down, Mona,” said Lark.

Big Mona sat down. He stared at one of the dishes and immediately recognized it was white-horned red boar meat—a delicacy of the Youchester Duchy. “I must say,” he said as he licked his lips, “as expected of the royal kitchen.”

Lark chuckled. “Stop holding yourself back and eat.”

Big Mona started devouring the food served before them. Amazingly, despite his gluttonous attitude, he still moved with grace and the demeanor befitting his status as the king’s exclusive merchant.

“There’s more where that came from,” said Lark. “So, what brought you here? Is it regarding the slum reformation we promised?”

Big Mona wiped his lips with a napkin. “That’s correct, partner. You know as well as I do—we need to carefully build up our reputation now that you’ve ascended the throne. It’ll leave a bad image if the new king goes back on his promise to the slum people.”

The fat merchant grabbed the stacks of parchment sitting on the table and handed them to Lark. “Look at this. Here’s my proposal on the slum reformation, partner.”

Lark quickly read through Big Mona’s proposal.

Big Mona said, “The slums encompass not only the Outer District, but also the Middle District of the capital. We can’t do a half-assed job if we want to incorporate the slum people into society.” He raised his index finger. “First, I suggest we demolish the old settlements in the slums and relocate the people to the temporary shelter outside the capital.”

“Won’t that become an issue?” said Lark. “Some of them may feel like we’re throwing them away, now that we’re done.”

“I’ll speak with Luvik regarding this matter,” said Big Mona. “Fortunately, the slums of the capital are quite organized compared to the other cities. They have a single leader they follow and respect. Relocating them temporarily shouldn’t be a problem as long as Luvik cooperates.”

Big Mona grabbed the goblet to his left and gulped down its contents. He raised two fingers. “Second, once the slum people have been relocated, we’ll proceed with the clean-up of the slum area. We’ll start building several key structures—a school, a Weavers Guild, inns, and of course several houses to accommodate the original residents. Even small cabins would do. What matters most is that they’re clean and safe. And all of these shall be open—for free—to the slum people. It’ll be the first step in incorporating them into society. What do you think, partner?”

“A school, a Weavers Guild, and inns,” said Lark. He was surprised that Big Mona had no qualms about giving free education to the rats of the slums.

“More than a year ago, when I heard that you’d been providing free education to your soldiers,” said Big Mona. “Honestly, I thought you were a madman, partner. But I was too shortsighted. Too prideful. So what if the commoners become literate? Now that you’ve become king, this will always work to your advantage. The difference between a literate and an illiterate subject is like that of heaven and earth. Once the literacy rate of our kingdom grows, it’ll be easier to disseminate information and orders to our people.”

As the king’s most trusted merchant, Big Mona would definitely reap the benefits of this change as well. Lark’s success was interlinked with his, after all.

“According to Luvik, most of the slum people are capable of weaving their clothes,” said Big Mona. “Although we have a Weavers Guild near the castle, the services they offer are almost exclusive to nobles. So how about creating a Weavers Guild that caters to commoners? Of course, the slum people are amateurs. But everyone has to start somewhere, right? And we can also opt for the Weavers Guild near the castle to send some of their men to train them. Inns would also be a profitable venture for the slum people, especially with the sudden influx of migrants from other cities. Partner, this is the least we should do if we want to abolish the slums and incorporate the slum people completely into our society. It’ll be a job they can at least take pride in.”

Education, a job that could feed them, and a safe place to live.

Lark agreed with everything Big Mona said.

“We’ll wring the treasury dry at this rate,” said Lark. “But very well. We’ll proceed with everything you’ve suggested, Mona.”

Big Mona laughed, clearly amused by Lark’s first few words. “I heard of your proposal to Arzen Boris. Wring the treasury dry? I know you’re rich, partner.”

Lark smiled. The fat merchant was really sharp. He was probably the only person in the capital who had any idea how wealthy Lark actually was. And he deduced all of this just by using the information he’d obtained from the proposal with Arzen Boris.

Big Mona paused. “I heard the dwarves sent an envoy. What happened to them?”

“Not only the dwarves,” said Lark. “Everfrost also sent delegates for the coronation ceremony. What’s strange is that both groups left immediately after leaving behind presents.”

Big Mona frowned. “How rude. If this were the empire, they wouldn’t even dare leave the country without groveling before the emperor. So, what treasures did they leave behind?”

“Black obsidian salt from Everfrost,” said Lark. “And a pendant made of adamantite from the dwarves.”

Big Mona almost stood up from his seat in excitement. “Pendant made of adamantite?! And it’s made by the dwarves themselves!”

Lark had heard that in this continent, adamantite was so rare that even dwarves coveted it. It was understandable for Big Mona to be this excited.

Big Mona coughed. “Well, I didn’t expect the dwarves to be this generous. As for the black salt, I’ve tried it before and I must say… it’s quite similar to the umami salt we have in our kingdom.”

“They gave us quite a lot, enough to fill an entire carriage,” said Lark.

Since only a pinch was required for each dish, that was enough to last the castle several years.

“But I’m curious, partner,” said Big Mona. “You need to pass through the empire to reach Everfrost. Even if they took the sea route, they’d need a couple of weeks just to reach our ports. But they—”

“I had the same doubts myself,” said Lark. “I would have tried prying more information had they not left so soon after the coronation ceremony.”

“Should I send my men after them?” said Big Mona. “They shouldn’t have gotten that far from the capital yet.”

Lark shook his head. “No, leave them be.” He took out a pendant and handed it to Big Mona. “What concerns me the most is this.”

“This is,” mumbled Big Mona, his eyes slowly growing wide upon realizing that the pendant had a platinum sheen, screaming of the word adamantite. “That pendant!?”

“Look at the letters engraved below it,” said Lark.

Big Mona examined the pendant closely. Indeed, there were symbols engraved underneath it.

“These are letters? What language is this?” said Big Mona. To his untrained eye, it looked like nothing but intertwining symbols.

Lark cast his magic, preventing their voices from reaching the ears of the servants around them.

“It’s Draconian,” said Lark. “The language of dragons.”

Big Mona stiffened. He stared at Lark for several seconds. “Draconian…”

“It’s a message from the dragon guarding the dwarven kingdom,” said Lark. He smiled, clearly amused. “The primary objective of the dwarven envoy must have been delivering this to me.”

“What does it say?” said Big Mona nervously.

Lark took the pendant from Big Mona. “It says: The eastern wind blows northwest, toward the world’s revolving center. The revolving center refers to the item inside. It’s an instruction on how to open the pendant. It’s basically telling me the proper flow of mana to unlock the artifact.”

Lark channeled mana into the pendant, following the instructions written in Draconian. After several seconds, there was a soft clicking sound and the pendant opened, revealing a small gemstone inside.

“It’s a communication device,” said Lark. “And it’s probably connected directly to the dragon who sent this artifact. Interesting, isn’t it? If I were a human who does not know the Draconian language, this present would appear to be nothing but a pendant made of precious adamantite. But if a human capable of deciphering it were to receive this item, he would be granted the opportunity to converse with the dragon itself.”

Big Mona swallowed nervously. He started losing appetite at the mere thought of the dragon who’d been guarding the dwarven kingdom for centuries. Even when he was still a kid, Big Mona heard tales about the legendary creature protecting the dwarven mountains. Although Big Mona had seen the Earth Scylla before, he still believed that the dragon was far more terrifying than the seven-headed monster.

“A-Are you going to use that to communicate with the dragon, partner?” said Big Mona.

“Not now,” said Lark. “I still have to oversee the match between the Blackstone Soldiers and the royal guards.”

This was the first Big Mona had heard of it. “A fight between the two groups? What happened?”

“Just a petty squabble. I know how strong the Blackstone Soldiers are,” said Lark. “But I’ve yet to see the royal guards fight earnestly. This is my chance to see their capabilities.”

This was one of the reasons he proposed this match. Using this match as a baseline, Lark planned on adjusting both groups’ training accordingly.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 6

A man’s effort would never betray him.

Cherry had lived by this philosophy since he was a child.

This was among the reasons he couldn’t stand those greenhorns who appeared one day and took one of the most honored positions within the castle.

A few hours had passed since dawn, and over a hundred people had already gathered in the Training Hall. Most of them were royal guards—people who came to see the fight with their honor on the line.

“Assistant Vice Commander.”

Cherry, who’d been stretching his body, straightened his back and turned around upon hearing a familiar voice. It was an ashen-haired man wearing plate armor.

“Commander!” Cherry saluted. And seeing the person right behind the Commander, Cherry added, “Vice Commander!”

There were rumors going around the castle that the commander of the royal guards was retiring this year. The man had been serving the royal family for more than five decades—service dating back to the reign of the Tyrant King.

Like a father speaking with his son, the commander placed his hand on top of Cherry’s head and ruffled it for several seconds. “I heard you’re fighting those soldiers.”

Cherry and the commander looked at the eastern wing, in the direction of the Blackstone Soldiers. Just like them, the Blackstone Soldiers were stretching their bodies and brandishing their spears in preparation for the upcoming battle.

“You know better than to question the king’s decisions,” said the commander. “Why did you do it? Why did you challenge His Majesty’s people?”

Cherry knew that this question would come out someday, one way or another. He’d already resolved himself with an answer, “Because I believe this is the right thing to do, Commander. The throne room should be the safest part of the castle. To leave such a strategic area to greenhorns who’ve never even set foot in the capital before is unacceptable!”

The commander and the vice commander locked eyes. The commander said to Cherry, “You are next in line to the position of vice commander, Cherry. I will be watching this match. Don’t make me regret my decision now, child.”

“Of course!” Cherry thumped his muscular chest. “Please leave it to me!”

While Cherry was conversing with the commander of the royal guards, the king finally arrived in the training grounds.

“The Embodiment of God Nruz, the Heart of the Sun,” the soldier guarding the entrance said in a loud and clear voice. “His Majesty, King Lark, has arrived! Everyone, show your respect!”

All the buzz and murmuring in the training grounds died at once. Everyone knelt on one knee.

“We greet His Majesty!”

“We greet His Majesty!”

“You may rise,” said Lark. Standing next to him was Big Mona.

Everyone slowly rose to their feet and gazed at the young man who’d just arrived at the training grounds. Although the new king did not have the blood of the royal family flowing through his veins, no one dared look at him with disrespect or disdain.

Even the royal guards, staunch believers in peerage, regarded Lark with reverence. They’d all seen his magical feat during the coronation ceremony, and they’d heard of all his achievements during the war with the United Grakas Alliance and the empire. Moreover, they knew that he was the same man who culled the black famine.

Lark scanned everyone in the training grounds for a moment. Upon confirming that Austen, George, and Anandra were already here, he said, “Let’s start.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

With those words as cue, the royal guards under Cherry and the Blackstone Soldiers were asked to enter the arena. It was an elevated platform made of hardened stones. A battleground spanning a hundred and fifty meters in diameter.

Lark amplified his voice using mana. “The rules are simple: Fight until the enemy is rendered incapable of fighting, or until the enemy surrenders. You can incapacitate your enemies, but killing isn’t allowed. Anyone that is thrown out of the arena is automatically disqualified.”

They were straightforward rules.

And it seemed that the use of magic or martial arts wasn’t prohibited for this match.

“I will be personally watching this battle,” said Lark. When both groups were finally in their positions, he clapped his hands twice and said, “Start.”

The moment the royal guards heard the signal, they strengthened their bodies with mana and charged toward the Blackstone Soldiers.

Body Strengthening Magic was among the most basic spells mandatorily taught to the royal guards and the royal knights. A spell that made them several times stronger than a normal human. With this spell, even the weakest royal guard would be capable of taking a blow from a rampaging stallion.

“Don’t resent us too much, greenhorns!” snarled the Assistant Vice Commander. He swung his wooden spear toward the nearest Blackstone Soldier, confident of taking his enemy out with a single strike.

But to Cherry’s surprise, the Blackstone Soldier blocked his attack, and after a split second, diverted the impact toward the side.

Was it a fluke?

Cherry immediately followed up with another attack. He swung his spear horizontally, but to his surprise, the Blackstone Soldier bent his body back and evaded it, before counterattacking with a stab using his wooden spear. Cherry sidestepped, dodging the Blackstone Soldier’s attack at the last moment.

The two of them stepped back and increased their distance from each other.

“Are you the leader of your group?” said Cherry in a deep voice.

Cherry had to admit it. The Blackstone Soldier was surprisingly good.

The Blackstone Soldier smirked upon seeing Cherry’s bewildered gaze. “Pell, our leader, is over there.”

Cherry followed the Blackstone Soldier’s gaze. Indeed, the man called Pell was stronger than this one. Looking around, Cherry realized that all of the Blackstone Soldiers were holding their ground against the royal guards.

It was unexpected. After all, these men didn’t know how to strengthen their bodies with mana. They were blocking and evading the royal guards’ attacks with sheer skill alone. Judging by the way they moved, it seemed that these Blackstone Soldiers were already used to fighting a stronger enemy.

Cherry gnashed his teeth and began his charge again. He swung his spears left and right, each of his strikes filled with the intent to incapacitate his foe. But to his dismay, his opponent was like an elusive eel who would dodge his attacks at the last moment. Even attacks from weird angles and blind spots didn’t work, as though the Blackstone Soldiers were used to fighting someone capable of attacking them from all directions.

Big Mona, watching the battle with Lark, was surprised by the sudden turn of events. “I didn’t know the Blackstone Soldiers were this strong, partner.”

Lark said, “We held a little tournament before I left my territory. And these men were the ones who won the competition. Although they may not look like it, they’re among the strongest of the town’s soldiers.”

From the side, Austen and George vehemently cheered for the Blackstone Soldiers.

“At this rate, the Blackstone Soldiers will end up winning,” said Big Mona.

Lark thought otherwise.

“No. This was a lost battle the moment they let the royal guards finish their body-strengthening magic,” said Lark. “They would have stood a chance if they’d attacked the moment the royal guards were casting their spells. But with those spells protecting the royal guards’ bodies, it’ll be hard for a wooden spear unimbued with mana to hurt them.”

True to Lark’s words, after several minutes, the tide of the battle started turning to the royal guard’s favor. Even Pell, the current leader of the Blackstone Soldiers in the capital, couldn’t inflict any damage against the royal guards. Although they managed to block and deflect most attacks, some strikes would still occasionally come through. Slowly, the strength of the Blackstone Soldiers was whittled down.

After almost half an hour had passed, all of the Blackstone Soldiers were defeated and lay unmoving on the ground. None of them surrendered until the end.

“The battle has ended,” said Lark. Although the Blackstone Soldiers had lost, orchestrating this match had been worth it. He’d finally seen the extent of the capabilities of the royal guards protecting the castle. “The royal guards have won the battle.”

The people watching the fight cheered. But to Lark’s surprise, the royal guards who participated in the battle wore grim faces—like they were dissatisfied or frustrated with something.

“As agreed beforehand, the Blackstone Soldiers will be removed from their duties in the throne room. I will also task Anandra with training them daily, starting tomorrow,” said Lark. “And the two of you…”

Austen and George flinched upon locking eyes with their master.

“You’re prohibited from entering the royal kitchen for half a year,” said Lark. “And you’ll join the training, together with the Blackstone Soldiers, starting tomorrow.”

The brothers fell in despair. They opened and closed their mouths, but no words came out. After some time, they sighed, nodded, and lowered their heads. They mumbled, “Yes, Master.”

“Your Majesty.”

Lark looked at the man who spoke. It was Cherry, the Assistant Vice Commander of the Royal Guards. The winner of the competition.

Lark wordlessly urged the muscular man to continue.

“We will gladly take our posts and guard the throne room,” said Cherry. The muscular man nodded at his comrades. They all knelt on one knee before Lark. “Forgive us if we are overstepping our bounds, but please allow us to also train under Sir Anandra! Please allow us to train together with the Blackstone Soldiers!”

A smile slowly formed on Lark’s face. “You won the battle.”

Cherry shook his head. “Had we used real spears instead of wooden ones, we would have lost instead.”

It was true. Lark also knew that had they used real spears in battle, the Blackstone Soldiers would have won despite not using any Body Strengthening Spells. Even Body Strengthening Spells weren’t capable of completely nullifying attacks from sharp weapons.

Lark was surprised that the royal guards realized this and readily admitted their weaknesses.

Not bad at all.

With such mindset, these men would grow and reach higher places.

Lark gazed at the royal guards kneeling before him. “Very well. Training starts tomorrow morning. Do not be late.”

The Royal Guards were relieved upon hearing this. Filled with resolve, they said in unison, “Yes, Your Majesty!”

***

After the match, Lark went back to his room in the castle. It was finally time to activate the communication device given to him by the dragon.

“Until I come out, do not let anyone enter the room,” Lark said to the guards outside.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Lark cast a barrier and a sound-canceling spell in the room.

Lark sat on his bed. Following the directions written underneath the pendant, Lark willed his mana to flow through it. A clicking sound was heard and the pendant opened, revealing the gemstone inside.

Lark channeled mana into the gemstone and activated it.

Unlike the communication crystals Lark had created before, the one sent to him by the dwarven envoy was of high quality. The moment the gemstone was activated, illusion magic seeped out of the artifact and enclosed the entire room. Soon, Lark found himself inside pitch-black darkness. Within this darkness, he could see five pairs of reptilian eyes gazing at him.

The slit-like pupils moved, as though scanning Lark from head to foot.

Voices in draconian language could be heard.

“He really came.”

“I told you, Shahaneth could see fragments of the future.”

A long period of silence followed.

“But… isn’t he just a boy? He is too young, even among human standards.”

“What does age have to do with anything, dear?”

“You said it yourself! This is the human who will be leading us in the future!”

“But, dear, even if he—”

Lark frowned. Slowly, he released the mana inside the communication crystal. This immediately made the voices stop. All reptilian eyes stared at him.

“What is happening? Why is the human disappearing?”

Lark said coldly, “I came here in anticipation of making contact with the dragon guarding the dwarven kingdom. I didn’t come to listen to your rumblings. Bickering like children in front of a human.”

Lark was certain from the brief exchange that the five pairs of eyes belonged to dragons. He’d seen more than a hundred of them back in his previous life and could even discern their type by their eyes alone.

“H-He speaks draconian?”

Lark’s image must have become nothing but a hazy mist by now.

“I came here despite my busy schedule,” Lark spat, disappointment evident within his voice. “What a rude bunch.”

Lark removed more mana from the communication device. If nothing was done, the dragons knew that the human would disappear completely.

Lark saw two of the five pairs of reptilian eyes widening.

“Wait!”

A voice echoed.

As though a gust of wind had blown everything away, the pitch-black darkness vanished. In its stead, a colossal cavern filled with gigantic crystals revealed itself. Five crimson dragons, each of them fifty-meters tall, stood right in front of him.

Lark supplied the communication crystal with mana once again. His mist-like image in front of the dragons reverted and solidified.

“So, what did you call me for?” said Lark.

The two dragons at the back looked at each other. They’d probably never encountered a human as fearless as this one.

“Interesting.”

“We didn’t mean to be rude, human. But our presence alone would have been enough to render normal humans unconscious. Please understand.”

Lark knew they were probably lying.

If the dragons willed it, it should be possible for them to suppress their dragon fear and converse normally even with non-magicians.

According to Lady Ropianna, there was only a single dragon guarding the dwarven kingdom. But seeing that there were five of them here, it was apparent that the stories circulating among the humans weren’t true.

Did the dwarven race close off their borders because they disliked the human race, or did they do it to protect the hatchlings, a few centuries ago?

Lark had a hunch it was the latter. That under the pretext of protecting the dwarves from outside forces, the dragons closed off their borders. But in reality, they did it to protect their young. The three dragons at the front were clearly younger than the two at the back.

The adult dragon at the back—the one who seemed to be male—spoke, “One of my children received a revelation from the so-called Gods of humans.”

The female adult added, “A war so great will soon come and rip apart this continent. And no nation, no matter the race, will be spared from its wrath.”

The three younger dragons at the front remained silent. They all stared at Lark with eyes filled with interest.

“We believe that you are the man in the revelation,” said the adult male. “And we delivered that communication device in hopes of making an alliance with your nation.”

Lark gazed at all of the dragons inside the crystal cavern. Although humans revered these creatures as the epitome of wisdom and strength, Lark knew full well that they shouldn’t be easily trusted.

Unlike the Scyllas, the dragons were capable not only of great magic but also deceit. These were the same creatures who learned polymorphism just to mingle with inferior races.

“What do I get in return for this alliance?” said Lark.

The adult male replied, “Equivalent exchange, human. We shall lend you our strength during the upcoming war, but you need to promise that you will also protect our race, our nation, should dangers arise.”

Lark fell silent.

Although he did not fully trust them, it wasn’t a bad offer.

“It’s a tempting offer,” said Lark.

“Then—!”

“But I need you to show sincerity first,” said Lark. “A binding contract. Made using dragon’s blood.”

“What an untrusting human!” spat the male adult. “Humans and dwarves revere us as Gods. Do you really believe that we won’t survive even if we don’t enlist the help of your nation? You could even consider our offer as a gift! Think carefully, human.”

Lark remained unmoved.

“I will not repeat myself again,” said Lark. “Show your sincerity. If you really wish to become allies with my nation, come to me personally. A binding contract made of dragon’s blood. That’s all I need.”

“But, human—!”

Without hearing the dragon further, Lark cut off the supply of mana from the communication device completely. He put it back inside the pendant.

Lark opened the window and looked outside.

He believed that if they were really sincere, those lizards would soon visit the capital.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 7

For several days, Irene pondered about Lark’s offer. She carefully considered whether she should accept the offer to become the new king’s secretary. Although the position would grant her authority, it was accompanied by tremendous responsibilities.

“It’s not like I can just accept it on a whim,” she muttered.

After telling her that she was old enough to make the decision on her own, her father left for Golden Wheat City. There was no longer anyone she could confide in and ask for advice.

With the intent of clearing her mind, she decided to go for a walk in the streets of the capital. She donned plain-looking clothes and left their estate in the Middle District.

As she traversed the main street of the capital, she observed the faces of the people she passed along the way. Male, female, young and old—once she became the king’s secretary, she would wield power capable of influencing the lives of them all.

She would definitely be the target of envy. The enemies of the royal faction might even aim for her life. Still, peculiarly, Irene did not fear any of these. The new king said he would become a strong shield for her, after all. He promised that she would not be hammered down, even if she became a nail sticking out—that she could go all out and show everyone what she was capable of. Those words were strangely comforting.

‘What’s that?’

As she was walking in the streets, she noticed the dozens of workers coming in and out of the slum’s entrance. She also heard several loud bangs, the sound of stones and wood crashing down, people yelling, hammer hitting iron. The smell of sand, pulverized rocks, and splintered wood permeated the air.

Curiosity struck and she decided to see the commotion herself. Thankfully, her clothes weren’t gaudy. With her sun-kissed skin and plain clothes, she could easily pass as a commoner.

With purposeful steps, she entered the slums.

“Be careful with that one! Don’t forget, remove the valuable materials first!”

“Those timbers are salvageable! Move them over here!”

“We still need to demolish the next building after this! Hurry up!”

Irene was surprised. It was a demolition. A large-scale one at that.

Over a hundred people—carpenters, masons, and laborers—were concurrently demolishing several structures in the slums. After removing valuable materials, particularly those with resale value, they proceeded to destroy the frameworks of the houses.

Under normal circumstances, such a large-scale demolition job would have sparked an uproar within the capital. The slum people, who would have nothing left in their names after their homes were destroyed, would riot and fight with their lives on the line. But strangely enough, the demolition was progressing in a peaceful manner. Irene even saw several men, who seemed to be slum people, helping out with the demolition.

“Lady, you shouldn’t be here.”

Irene looked behind her, at the owner of the voice. It was a boy wearing a cheap tunic and worn sandals. His face was smudged with dust and soil. Unbeknownst to Irene, he was the same boy who served as Big Mona’s guide in the slums before.

“They’ve started demolishing the main building,” said the boy. “The boss said it’ll take some time, probably several days, since it’s the largest and strongest structure in our territory. But who knows what could happen? It could suddenly collapse with a single wrong move from the laborers.”

Irene noticed the boy was carrying a small box filled with iron fittings. Although their homes were being destroyed before their eyes, the boy did not seem angry at all.

“What’s happening here?” said Irene. The sound of the laborers hitting wood and stone reverberated in the alleyways. “Why are they destroying the homes of all these people?”

The boy tilted his head to the side. He looked at her quizzically. “Destroying our homes? Lady, you haven’t heard, huh? The new king has already given an ordinance. The slums and its people are going to be…” He paused and knitted his brows. “What were the boss’s exact words again? Incorporated into the capital?”

Irene was dumbfounded.

Incorporate the slums and its people into the capital?

It was an extremely ambitious project, and no ruler had successfully pulled it off before. After all, although it sounded easy in theory, there were innumerable things they had to consider. Irene knew that as long as there was poverty, the slums wouldn’t cease to exist. Poor planning, politics, economic stagnation and depression, unemployment, and social conflicts—were among the contributing factors to the formation of slums. The astronomical costs aside, the new king would need to address these issues if he wanted to pull this feat off.

Irene stared at the boy before her. Even a kid like this was working hard to help with the demolition.

“You seem happy about this,” said Irene. “I assume that His Majesty has given you a temporary place to stay while the demolition is taking place?”

The boy grinned. He nodded several times. “You’re smart. That’s right, lady! We’ve been given temporary shacks outside the capital!”

The same shelter given to the migrants who flocked to the capital after the demons’ attack.

“Although some members are dissatisfied with the size of the temporary homes,” said the boy, “most of us are happy that we’re finally being recognized as official residents of Behemoth City! I’m used to sleeping on the streets anyway. A shack is already a godsend!”

“And look!” The boy raised the box he was holding. “Even I managed to land a job yesterday!”

Irene could feel the boy’s glee and enthusiasm from his voice alone. Looking around, she noticed that the other slum people working as laborers were also full of vigor.

“They’re paying you?” said Irene.

The boy smiled. “Three silvers a month. And all I have to do is carry these scraps to a designated place. I heard that the adults earn more.”

“Hey, Caspian!” shouted a large, muscular man with a burn scar across his face. “We’re not paying you to slack off, you shitty brat! Get over here!”

The boy stiffened. He strengthened his grip on the box he was holding. He mumbled, “Damn, I didn’t notice that Boss Luvik is already here. I need to go, lady!”

Carrying the box with him, Caspian ran toward Luvik. He halted, looked at Irene, and shouted, “Return to the main street, lady! You shouldn’t be here!”

Caspian handed Luvik the box. Although the muscular man started scolding Caspian, it seemed he had no intention of harming the boy.

After speaking with the boy, Irene decided to investigate further. Snooping around, she learned several things.

First, the things the boy told her were just the tip of the iceberg. Irene learned that not only did the king give the order to demolish the slums, he also planned on rebuilding it anew and giving the new houses to its former residents. There was also the plan to build a Weavers Guild, several inns, and a school in this area. Moreover, it seemed that all of the slum people, no matter their gender or age, would be entitled to free education.

It was a shocking revelation.

Why was the new king going this far just for the sake of these people?

Irene went back to their estate. She spent the evening mulling over things. Unable to sleep, she lay on her bed all night, pondering and trying to come up with a decision.

The very next day, she visited Lark in the castle.

She’d finally decided to accept the offer of becoming the new king’s secretary.

***

Things weren’t going well for the Vont family these days. As the largest supplier of arms for the Kelvin Family, they lost a significant portion of their income after the fall of the Kelvin Duchy and Duke Kelvin’s execution. And as though that wasn’t enough, the new king’s most-trusted merchant—Big Mona—had started putting a lot of pressure on their guild.

Although an organization as large as the Merchants Guild of the capital would remain standing if you cut off its arms, it would eventually fall if you cut off all its limbs. Even a titan would crumble if they continued sustaining this much damage. Reginald Vont knew that he had to do something. Otherwise, he might see the fall of his family during his generation. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

Inside his office in the Merchants Guild, Reginald called for his assistant.

“You called for me, sir?”

“My daughter should still be in the capital. Go to the king’s castle and deliver this letter to her,” said Reginald.

Reginald slid a sealed envelope to his assistant. The assistant respectfully received the letter. “It shall be delivered right away, sir.”

The assistant was one of the few people who knew that Reginald Vont’s daughter was among the disciples of King Lark. Although the assistant had been working for the Vonts for several years, he still found it absurd that the woman was the offspring of a Vont and an Aria. Two of the most powerful families in this kingdom.

A few hours after the assistant left for the castle, he returned, bringing Chryselle with him.

“You called for me, Father?” said Chryselle.

Reginald looked at his assistant, wordlessly asking him to leave the room. After the assistant left, Reginald gazed at Chryselle for several seconds. She had grown so much since they’d last seen each other.

“You’ve become the spitting image of Tricia when she was young. No wonder that stupid brother of yours dotes on you,” said Reginald. He sighed. “If only she were still alive…”

“It’s a given that I would look like Mother,” said Chryselle, her voice calm and composed. “And although my brother looks like a ruffian, he isn’t stupid, Father.”

Reginald smiled. “Of course,” he said. It was rare for his daughter to defend her brother like this. “I heard that you’ve become the disciple of His Majesty. I’m surprised Alecto didn’t object to it.”

“He did,” Chryselle admitted. “Initially, he even planned on rallying all of the magicians of the Tower to beat up my master.”

Reginald laughed. The stoic-looking face he always showed to his subordinates was gone. Right now, he was nothing but a father. A doting one at that.

“Is that so? It must have given you quite the headache, trying to suppress that nasty temper of his!”

Reginald’s laughter echoed in his office.

“I read your letter, Father,” said Chryselle. “What do you mean by mana stone mines?”

“It’s exactly as written in the letter,” said Reginald. “I recently got my hands on a mana stone mine near Quasan City. It’s located deep underneath a depleted copper mine.”

There were two known ways to obtain mana stones. First was to extract them from the corpses of monsters. Second was to mine them from places abundant in ambient mana. Between the two, the first method was the most commonly implemented. Mana stone mines were incredibly rare.

“The mana stone mine,” said Reginald. “I plan on presenting it as a gift to the new ruler of this kingdom.”

Although they would be losing astronomical profits, after contemplation, Reginald deemed it the best course of action for now. He was starting to lose grip on his power after the recent events in the kingdom. Hopefully, with this present, he would be able to gain the new king’s favor.

“Are you sure about this, Father?” said Chryselle. Even she was surprised by her father’s decision. As a magician, she was well aware of how precious a mana stone mine was.

“I have eyes and ears in the king’s castle,” said Reginald. “Since that pig has already established himself as the king’s top merchant, this probably won’t be enough to gain the new king’s favor. But thankfully, we have you, my dear daughter.”

Chryselle suppressed a frown from forming on her face. She did not like the direction of the conversation.

“Good job becoming King Lark’s disciple,” said Reginald. “I heard he really dotes on his people. As long as you’re by his side, it should be possible for him to overlook our previous arms trade with the Kelvins.”

Chryselle was no fool. Even she could surmise that the Vont family were also supplying arms to Black Midas. But now that the Kelvin Family and the largest underworld organization of the kingdom had fallen, he’d decided to salvage what he could and switch sides.

“As long as you remain as his disciple, even Big Mona won’t be able to touch us easily,” Reginald said with confidence.

“I didn’t become his disciple for this, Father,” said Chryselle in a cold voice.

“Of course,” said Reginald. “But for the sake of our family. Your family.” He emphasized the last two words. “I hope you’ll continue earning King Lark’s favor.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 8

Rugard, the Kingdom of Dwarves.

The only nation in the continent that the Great Empire refused to antagonize. A nation so strong that it had never lost a battle since its founding. The kingdom protected by the mythical dragon.

Just recently, the dwarven kingdom was in uproar. The Ancient Fire Dragon, who, under normal circumstances, refused to speak even to the dwarven king, suddenly issued an order. An order to investigate the new human king ruling over their adjacent nation.

Several days had passed since then. After mobilizing all of his men, and after exhausting all means possible, the current dwarven king—King Lerenon ‘Blood Mithril’ Rugard—finally decided to give his report to the Ancient Fire Dragon.

Bringing the four princes with him, King Lerenon climbed the highest mountain within the dwarven kingdom. After passing by Dragonewt Village, they finally arrived at the mountain peak. Where the Lair was located.

They stopped in front of the Lair’s entrance. The ninety-meter entrance, which resembled a temple, was made entirely of gold. Numerous runes and magic formations, meant to immediately kill unwanted visitors, were engraved on the golden pillars.

Before entering, King Lerenon sternly said to his sons, “Do you all remember the rules?”

He decided to ask them again, just in case.

The four princes nodded their heads resolutely. They said in unison, “Yes, Father.”

Unless permitted, never make eye contact with the dragon.

Never touch any of the treasures and artifacts inside the Lair.

The words of the dragon were absolute. Never question the dragon’s orders, no matter what.

These were the rules everyone should abide by inside the Lair. The foolish dwarves who’d met their demise after not following them—most of them from the royal family—numbered in the dozens.

For mortals like them, the words of the dragon were tantamount to law.

“There should still be a couple of months left before the dragon chooses a successor among the four of you,” said King Lerenon. “Use this chance to leave an impression. Use this opportunity to gain the dragon’s favor.”

The eyes of the princes glimmered with dangerous light. The successor to the throne was not yet set in stone. At the end of the day, the dragon would have the final say regarding the future successor.

“Remember, never question the words of the dragon,” said King Lerenon.

After uttering his final reminder, King Lerenon placed a hand on one of the golden pillars, activating the runes engraved on it.

King Lerenon said, “We’ve come to pay our respects to the Great Guardian Deity.”

As much as it loved treasures and beautiful things, the dragon loved flattery. King Lerenon, who’d met the dragon several times before, knew this more than anyone.

Several seconds passed and a words spoken in human tongue were heard. “I’ve been waiting for you, Lerenon. Come inside.”

“Thank you, Great Guardian Deity,” said King Lerenon.

The sinister spell guarding the entrance of the Lair was deactivated and King Lerenon’s group was granted entry into the colossal cavern. They traversed the path leading to the heart of the cavern. Unlike dungeons, there was only a single, straight path leading to the Lair. The walls and the ceiling were made entirely of gold, and numerous luminous devices, created only by the best craftsmen, were embedded in them. Every now and then, they passed by murals drawn on the walls depicting the greatness of the dragon race. There were murals showing the dragons standing at the peak of the highest mountains, murals depicting a dragon flying in the heavens, and murals showing humans worshipping a newly born hatchling.

After walking for over half an hour, they finally arrived at the heart of the Lair—a kilometer-large clearing where the dragon slept. Numerous gigantic crystals, which resembled kalrane stones, were seen here and there. At the opposite end of the path, they saw the dragon’s hoard—a mountain of gold, artifacts, and treasures. The treasures that had been accumulating in the Lair for centuries. Treasures offered to the dragon by the dwarven race over several generations.

Upon seeing the dragon, lying on top of the mountain of gold, King Lerenon and the four princes lowered their heads, their eyes staring at the ground. Slowly, they knelt.

“King Lerenon and his sons humbly pay their respect to the Great Guardian Deity!” said King Lerenon.

The four princes behind him immediately followed suit, “We humbly pay our respect to the Great Guardian Deity!”

Despite his nickname—‘Blood Mithril’—King Lerenon sounded very submissive, as though he would lick the floor if the dragon ordered him to. Even his sons, each of them notorious in their own right, acted like shivering mutts before the dragon.

The Ancient Fire Dragon was satisfied with this.

Indeed, this was how things were supposed to be. That damn human who contacted them via the communication crystal was the abnormal one.

“It’s been four days, Dwarven King,” said the dragon, it’s voice deep and domineering. It exuded some of its dragon fear, effectively making the four princes tremble while kneeling. King Lerenon, on the other hand, lived up to his reputation as the strongest dwarf. He remained unperturbed even after being exposed to the dragon fear. “I expect that you’ve accomplished the tasks I’ve entrusted you with.”

As the king of the dwarves, King Lerenon was privy to several things. He knew there were several dragons living in this Lair. All the more reason for the Dwarven King to fear them. A single dragon would be enough to lay waste to the dwarven capital. Several more would be more than enough to destroy the entire kingdom in a single day. King Lerenon believed that they should never offend these mythical creatures, no matter what.

“This humble servant worked himself to the bone to fulfill your tasks, Great Guardian Deity.” King Lerenon made sure to always add that title at the end of his words.

The dragon’s gaze shifted from King Lerenon to the four princes. It said, “I’m aware that the time has come for me to choose the next successor to the throne. But this matter is of graver importance, Lerenon.”

The four princes flinched.

A matter of greater importance than choosing the next successor?

“Of course, Great Guardian Deity,” said King Lerenon. “We gathered everything we could regarding the new King of Lukas, Lark Marcus.”

“Very well,” said the dragon. “Tell me everything, Lerenon.”

King Lerenon started reporting everything they’d learned. His age, his features and appearance, his origins, the people close to him, his military might, territories, even down to the food he enjoyed eating. King Lerenon made sure not to miss anything. Fortunately, although the dwarven kingdom had closed off their borders to the world centuries ago, they still made sure to maintain a strong information network. They planted spies and informants in various kingdoms, all for the sake of maintaining their status as the continent’s most powerful nation.

“He defeated a monster horde—tens of thousands of them—on his own,” said the dragon after hearing King Lerenon’s report. “And he erected a large wall and a barrier to protect a town under his jurisdiction.”

The dragon sounded really interested.

“The barrier protecting that town is similar to the one currently enclosing their capital, you say?” said the dragon.

“I believe so, Great Guardian Deity,” said King Lerenon.

The dragon laughed, its voice reverberating through the Lair. After some time, it paused. Its eyes widened and it roared, “Are you taking me for a fool, Lerenon!”

A shockwave swept past the dwarven king and the four princes. The third prince, known to have the weakest constitution and fighting strength among them, lost consciousness. With his eyes rolled up, he fell limp on the ground. King Lerenon and the other princes, fearing the dragon’s wrath, did nothing to help the prince who’d fallen to the ground.

“Even I, an Ancient Fire Dragon, needed to constantly supply the barrier enclosing this kingdom with mana!” said the dragon. He sounded really angry for some reason. “Heaven’s Dominion! The strongest barrier spell, available only to dragons! Are you telling me that not only did that human king manage to erect such a barrier to their capital, he also cast the same spell to protect a small human town?!”

The dragon felt insulted hearing this part of the report. The spell their race was so proud of was cast by a mere human? Impossible. The knowledge of the spell aside, they needed astronomical amounts of mana and a strong medium to cast a pinnacle-grade spell. The thought of a human casting such a spell was preposterous. Moreover, he cast it to protect a small town in the middle of the wilderness.

“B-But based on the information from my me—”

The dragon slammed its front paw, sending a shockwave upon impact. The fourth prince almost vomited blood, but managed to regain himself at the last moment. Dragons were truly terrifying creatures. Just the shockwave alone was enough to render seasoned warriors like them immobile.

“Lerenon, I’ve already told you,” growled the dragon. “We do not tolerate liars.”

King Lerenon didn’t utter a reply. He knew that if he continued insisting that he was telling the truth, this dragon wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter all of them here. In the dragon’s eyes, it did not matter even if he was the dwarven king. This was the difference between them and this mythical creature.

After calming down for a bit, the dragon said, “Leave.” It gazed at the princes. “It seems your descendants didn’t inherit even half your courage and strength, Lerenon. How disappointing.”

The princes, who initially came to gain the dragon’s favor, trembled. This was their first time meeting the Ancient Fire Dragon. Who would have known that it would be this terrifying? The princes started realizing how great their father, King Lerenon, truly was. He was the only one who remained unperturbed even after being subjected to the dragon fear.

“As you will, Great Guardian Deity,” said King Lerenon. The dragon’s words were tantamount to law. He did not dare refute them.

“Margaro,” said King Lerenon.

“Father,” said the first prince.

“Carry that pathetic brother of yours. We’re leaving.”

“Yes, Father!”

Without looking at the dragon, and without turning their backs, the dwarves left the heart of the Lair.

After confirming that the dwarves were gone, the Ancient Fire Dragon said, “What do you think?”

A voice from above replied, “I do not think that the dwarven king would dare lie to us, dear.”

“And you, Shahaneth?”

“I’m… not sure. The vision of the future has become muddled lately, Father.”

Using the polymorph spell, the Ancient Fire Dragon—the leader of the tribe—slowly turned into a human. A middle-aged man with long crimson hair reminiscent of the sun. His scales turned into red armor, and his claws turned into a claymore. His slit-like pupils were like blazing fire.

“Whether the words uttered by Lerenon are the truth or not,” said the Ancient Fire Dragon. “I will see for myself.”

The other dragons did not object. They knew that once their leader made up his mind, there was no turning back. Moreover, they were curious too. They wanted to know if that human king had indeed erected two pinnacle-grade spells on his own. It should have been impossible, unless the caster was a dragon.

“Can I come with you, Father?” said Shahaneth.

The leader of the dragons pondered for a moment. “Very well. Come, Shahaneth.”

The Fire Dragon, Shahaneth, activated polymorph and slowly turned into a female human. She appeared to be around twenty years old, with the same crimson hair as her father. Her dress, reminiscent of flames, flowed past her ankles. If not for her slit-like pupils, she would easily pass as an aristocrat’s daughter.

The father–daughter duo left the Lair. They flew past the barrier protecting the dwarven kingdom and headed straight toward the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas. As a creature with near perfect memory, the reports they’d garnered from the dwarves were enough for them to pinpoint the exact location of the human cities.

Without bothering to conserve their mana, they flew at top speed. And soon, they arrived at the capital.

“It’s real,” muttered the leader of the Fire Dragons upon seeing the massive barrier enclosing the capital. “Heaven’s Dominion. A pinnacle-grade spell is protecting the human city.”

The leader and his daughter were struck speechless realizing that the dwarven king spoke the truth.

So, this was why that human king dared to be so haughty despite being in the presence of dragons like them.

But how did the human erect such a barrier?

As far as they knew, this was a spell exclusive to their race.

“Lerenon,” said the leader of the Fire Dragons. “He said there were two pinnacle-grade barriers.”

“The human town, Father,” said Shahaneth.

The two dragons looked at each other. Both of them wished to see the town too, especially the barrier and the colossal wall enclosing it.

Decisively, the two flew southeast, toward Blackstone Town. They flew at top speed, and after several hours, finally arrived at their destination. The two couldn’t help but be in awe upon seeing Heaven’s Dominion enclosing a human town. Even the sixty-meter wall was fortified with solid clumps of mana. Unlike the stonewalls protecting most human cities, this one was more durable—it was even capable of taking a blow from a dragon’s magic.

This was no mere town. It was a fortress.

“I see,” said the leader of the Fire Dragons. “This must be the reason for that vision of yours, Shahaneth. If it’s that human, then it’s possible. Such a human should be capable of leading and protecting us dragons.”

Although dragons were prideful creatures, they were capable of recognizing strength. And seeing the barrier spells and the walls, the two dragons started to recognize King Lark’s true worth.

“We’ve seen enough,” said the leader of the Fire Dragons. “Shahaneth, we’re heading back.”

“Yes, Father.”

The leader of the Fire Dragons planned on returning to the Lair upon witnessing these things. The moment he arrived, he would summon the dwarven king once more and ask him to send over a hundred delegates to the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas. They needed to become allies with the Kingdom of Lukas—particularly with the human king—no matter what.

Shahaneth’s visions had never been wrong before. A war so great that it would rip apart the continent would surely come. They needed to do at least this to survive.

“The human king asked us to show sincerity,” said Shahaneth. “Are you planning on making an oath using our dragon blood, Father?”

The leader of the Fire Dragons didn’t utter a reply. Although he wished to become allies with the human king, he was still unsure if he was willing to go as far as swearing an oath using their blood.

He decided to ponder over it carefully. After all, this concerned the survival of their tribe.

Just as they were about to return to the dwarven kingdom, the two dragons felt tremendous pressure coming their way. A massive clump of mana headed their direction.

“What’s that?” said Shahaneth.

The ominous mana was definitely hostile.

The creature, who looked like nothing but a dot from afar, slowly became bigger as it closed the distance. Eventually, the two dragons came face-to-face with the creature. A seven-headed monster with black iridescent scales and two pairs of bat-like wings.

The seven-headed monster spoke haughtily in draconian, “A fellow lizard. It’s quite a while since I met one.”

The two dragons were still assuming human form. They appeared tiny before the seven-headed monster.

“As to why you’ve been observing the territory of my God”—Massive amounts of mana started gathering inside two of its mouths—“we’ll talk about later, after we’ve crippled the two of you. While he is gone, my God entrusted this territory’s protection to me, but you dare lay your eyes on it? Consider this as divine punishment, fools.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 9

‘Blackie, listen. Dragons have one of the sturdiest bodies among all creatures in this world. But there is a time when they are most vulnerable—when they are in their human form. When you see one in this state, do not miss it. Deliver the finishing blow right away.’

The Scylla could still vividly remember the words of its master over a millennium ago. The Scylla was less than a hundred years old back then, but it had already accompanied the Dragon Devourer in numerous battles against the dragon race. Suffice to say, the Scylla had seen how its master slaughtered dragons by the dozens. It had seen how a single human destroyed the dragon tribes in the Frost Mountains of Yleanor. The spells and the techniques used by the Dragon Devourer—a human feared even by the dragon race—had been engraved within its mind.

“Die!” roared the Scylla.

It knew that it shouldn’t miss this chance, when the dragons were still in their human form. Taking the master’s advice into mind, it fired two beams of mana toward the Fire Dragons.

Although the beam looked like a simple spell at a glance, it was made after gathering massive amounts of mana and forcefully compressing it to this size. According to the Dragon Devourer, the scales of the dragon race were naturally resistant to the five basic elements. The best way to kill them was to use non-elemental spells, or to use an artifact capable of piercing their scales.

Vulcan, the leader of the Fire Dragons, pulled out the claymore on his back and slashed the beam of mana, cutting it in half. Shahaneth, on the other hand, created a wall of flame and successfully blocked the attack.

Vulcan frowned. He growled, “You. What are you doi—”

He stopped, seeing hundreds of spheres of mana manifesting themselves around them. The spheres of mana were forcefully compressed by the Scylla and started spinning rapidly. It was non-elemental magic—the bane of the dragon race.

“F-Father, above us,” said Shahaneth.

They looked up and saw four fifty-meter magic formations in the sky, directly above them. By the time they’d noticed, the magic formations were already complete. And judging by the layers and runes, they were all Grand Scale Magic. With seven heads working together, the Scylla’s casting speed surpassed even that of a dragon.

The magic formations glowed and shattered into numerous particles of light.

The Grand Scale Magic—gravity spells capable of rendering even someone from the dragon race temporarily immobile—fell upon the Fire Dragons.

Still in their human form, even the leader of the Fire Dragons couldn’t easily break through the four concurrent Grand Scale Magic spells cast by the Scylla. Moreover, after being compressed to their utmost limit, the orbs of mana started shooting toward the two of them.

For the first time in several hundred years, Vulcan felt shivers crawl down his spine. He realized that their opponent knew how to slay dragons. Instead of using Grand Scale Magic to attack them, it used the spell to limit their mobility. The seven-headed monster didn’t use any spells belonging to the five basic elements, as though it knew that it would hardly cause harm to those from the dragon race. Instead, it used mana in its purest form, compressed it, and turned it into weapons.

Vulcan gnashed his teeth.

If those orbs of mana hit them while they were in their human form, they would suffer tremendous damage.

“Shahaneth! Release your polymorph spell!” roared Vulcan.

Shahaneth didn’t question her father’s decision. Even she realized that they might perish if they continued fighting in this state. Without hesitation, the two of them released the polymorph spell binding their bodies.

They tried to.

To their utter horror, the Scylla seemed to have anticipated this. The seven-headed creature sneered as it fired a thin thread of disintegration spell to the Fire Dragons. Veiled by the orbs of mana, the disintegration spell successfully hit its target. It was not enough to kill the Fire Dragons, but it was more than enough to hinder them from undoing the polymorph spell.

The mana within the Fire Dragons’ bodies started acting erratically. They managed to control their rampaging mana within seconds, but this opening was more than enough for the orbs to finally hit their targets.

Vulcan gritted his teeth as orbs of compressed mana struck his body from all directions. It was unbelievable that such a basic spell, when used to its utmost limit, was capable of damaging someone from their race. After being hit by over a hundred orbs of compressed mana, Vulcan’s armor finally formed cracks and the orbs started hitting his flesh.

Vulcan looked to his left, and his mind went momentarily blank upon seeing his daughter. Unlike him, who’d turned his scales into armor during the polymorph spell, Shahaneth didn’t have anything protecting her body. His daughter suffered a worse fate than him. She’d already fallen unconscious, her body riddled with wounds from the orbs of mana.

Unable to do anything, Vulcan watched helplessly as his daughter fell toward the ground.

“Why are you doing this?” he growled.

Vulcan’s eyes glimmered with dangerous light. He trembled with rage. He wanted to slaughter the seven-headed monster before him, but the hundreds of orbs of mana, incessantly shooting toward him, rendered him unable to fight back. He tried releasing the polymorph spell every now and then, but the Scylla always made sure to fire a disintegration spell to interrupt the flow of mana at the very last moment.

It was surreal.

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation as the Scylla fired spells at it one after another. It had used powerful spells to hinder the dragons’ movements from the get-go.

What was this?

It felt like he was fighting a creature meant to kill dragons.

If only he could revert into his dragon form, Vulcan was confident he’d win the battle against this seven-headed monster.

“Give up,” said the third head. “Although we have no plans of killing you, you’ll die at this rate if you continue resisting us.”

The Scylla knew it had won the battle the moment the dragons came here while under their polymorph spell. It must have not encountered anyone or anything that could threaten its life like this before.

How conceited, the Scylla thought.

Vulcan roared, “Give up? You damn coward! If you have even the slightest bit of honor, allow me to revert into my dragon form!”

The Scylla opened its wings wide in mockery.

The first head cackled. “How amusing! Who told you to come here in your human form? Fool!”

The fifth and sixth head laughed. The third head turned silent, while the rest of the heads glared at Vulcan.

The Scylla did not feel an ounce of pity for these creatures.

When it was younger, the Scylla had seen the Dragon Devourer slaughter dragons without even batting an eye. Compared to what the Scylla was doing now, its master was far more ruthless. The Dragon Devourer, although capable of the same spells, seldomly resorted to these petty tricks. With his monstrous strength and nearly bottomless mana reserves, he simply cut the dragons’ bodies using his glaive.

The Scylla believed it was already being benevolent enough, as it hadn’t immediately killed these lizards.

As for being cowardly—that did not matter.

The Scylla believed that God Evander’s orders preceded everything. Even if it would tarnish its honor, the Scylla would willingly do even the dirtiest work for him.

“It’s a pity,” said the third head. “Had the two of you come here in your dragon form, it would have been a tough battle.”

The third head said those words with sincerity. The Scylla might have even lost the battle, since they couldn’t possibly go all out while protecting this territory. Moreover, there were two dragons as its opponents.

Fortunately, the lessons taught to them by their master—the Dragon Devourer— had proved useful in this battle.

Over a hundred compressed orbs of mana manifested themselves around Vulcan again. After rapidly spinning around, they started hitting the Fire Dragon, one after another. Even after Vulcan’s armor had been destroyed, the Scylla did not stop. Even after Vulcan’s flesh had been torn off, the Scylla did not falter. True to his previous words, the Scylla did not stop until the leader of the Fire Dragons became a crippled mess. It continued beating the leader of the Fire Dragons to a pulp, until he was half-dead.

***

[Kingdom of Elves]

The smile on King Melandrach’s face hadn’t slipped for the past several months. He’d never felt this fulfilled. As a monarch, he was proud to have solved their race’s problem that had been occurring for generations.

Who would have known that coming across that seven-headed monster would result in that fruitful encounter?

They were truly blessed to have met Evander Alaester.

“Commander Khuumal,” said King Melandrach. “I believe a celebration is in order. Congratulations.”

They were currently in the royal palace—the largest Elven Oak in the kingdom. Various kingdom officials were gathered in the grand hall.

Commander Khuumal, who sat to the right of the king, cleared his throat with embarrassment. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

It was rare to see this side of the commander. King Melandrach, along with several officials, smiled.

“I wonder what the gender will be?” said King Melandrach. “If it’s a boy, I’m certain that he’ll become a warrior as astounding as the commander in the future.”

After the deal with Evander Alaester, their race gained access to thousands of vials of bloodstone water. A miracle drug that significantly increased their race’s fertility rate. Medicine that solved their race’s long-standing problem.

For the past several months, hundreds of elven families started seeing the benefits of their alliance with that human. Hundreds of elves became pregnant, and no one could help but be excited that they’d finally found a way to fix their kingdom’s declining birth rate.

“It seems that children playing on the streets will become a common sight in the coming years, Your Majesty,” said one of the officials.

King Melandrach nodded happily. “Indeed. I really have to thank Lord Evander for his help this time.”

Almost everyone in the room was grateful for what Evander Alaester had done for their kingdom. Not only did he grant them access to thousands of vials of bloodstone water. He also erected a pinnacle-grade barrier to protect their kingdom. As long as the adjacent nations do not fall in the war with the demons that was to come, the bright future of the elven kingdom was pretty much set in stone.

Still, there were elves who held deep resentment to Evander Alaester. The vice commander, in particular, still wished to exact vengeance on the seven-headed monster.

One of the warriors guarding the throne room said, “Your Majesty, the merchants have arrived.”

“Just in time,” said the king. “Let them in.”

“Yes!”

The large wooden door opened, and three humans entered the grand hall. Although they were called merchants, in reality, these were loyal subordinates of Big Mona who’d underwent the Oath of Silence. They’d been assigned to oversee Blackstone Town’s trade with the elves.

“It’s been a while, Sir Edmund,” said King Melandrach respectfully to the leader of the group. Although they were of lower status than him, the elven king couldn’t afford to show discourtesy to them. In a sense, these people represented not only Big Mona, but also Evander Alaester.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, King Melandrach,” said Edmund. He was a muscular man with receding hair. A man in his late fifties. Rather than a merchant, he looked more like a bandit.

“Please, there’s no need for such courtesies,” said King Melandrach. “I presume you came for the materials we promised you a month and a half ago?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Edmund. “We’ve come to inspect the quality of the black arrowheads and the fabric produced by the carnivorous worms.”

The black arrowheads and the fabrics were the most in-demand among the elven products sold to the humans. A thousand arrowheads or fifty yards of fabric could be exchanged for a vial of bloodstone water. Additionally, the humans also paid them in silver and gold.

It was a good start for the trade between the two nations.

“I’m confident that the quality of our products won’t disappoint Sir Edmund,” said King Melandrach. “Otto.”

A young elf replied, “Your Majesty!”

“Guide the honored guests to the storage room.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“We’ve already prepared all the materials we promised,” said King Melandrach. “Otto is the official tasked to oversee this one. Please follow him. He shall be your guide.”

Edmund gazed calmly at the young elf who would serve as their guide. After coming here several times, he’d become somewhat used to the elven kingdom. He knew that although the elf looked youthful, he was probably over a hundred years older than him.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Edmund. Despite his scruffy appearance, he knew his manners very well.

After bowing, Edmund’s group left the grand hall.

“Who would have known that getting our hands on bloodstone water would be this easy,” mumbled King Melandrach.

Bloodstone water would normally sell for much more. A thousand black arrows or fifty yards of fabric produced by the carnivorous worms in exchange for a vial was dirty cheap. They couldn’t possibly ask for a better deal. Of course, King Melandrach had no intention of telling Evander Alaester this.

As he was lost in his thoughts, a warrior suddenly barged into the grand hall. The warrior was clearly terrified, his face pallid.

“Your Majesty!” said the warrior.

King Melandrach frowned. For a warrior to barge here unannounced, it must be an urgent matter. The elven king had an ominous feeling.

“What is it?” said King Melandrach.

“T-The,” huffed the warrior. “The seven-headed monster! The Scylla!”

Everyone in the grand hall stiffened. They all vividly remembered when that monster single-handedly destroyed the western garrison and destroyed a portion of their kingdom in a single day.

The warrior said in a trembling voice, “It’s back! And it’s demanding that we alter the barrier and let it inside our kingdom!”

King Melandrach stood from his seat. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. “Alter the barrier? What does it want?”

“I-I’m not certain, Your Majesty,” said the warrior. “But according to what I’ve heard, it seems that it wishes to borrow the authority of the royal family to operate the barrier protecting the kingdom.”

Absurd.

Who in their right mind would hand over authority just like this?

Still, this was the Scylla they were talking about. It must have come under the orders of Evander Alaester. It must have come for a valid reason.

After the incident wherein the Scylla went to the kingdom while carrying Evander Alaester on its back, the seven-headed monster had never returned to the elven kingdom.

Why was it suddenly visiting now, of all times?

And why did it want to control the pinnacle-grade barrier?

“I will meet with the Scylla,” said King Melandrach. “Commander Khuumal, bring the elite warriors with you. All of you shall accompany me.”

Commander Khuumal placed a hand on his chest. He said resolutely, “Yes! We will make sure to protect you, even if it means death, Your Majesty!”

With the elite warriors escorting him, King Melandrach left the royal palace. He stepped outside the barrier enclosing their kingdom and met the seven-headed monster.

“You sure took your time, elf,” said the first head. The Scylla was sitting on the ground, clearly bored.

“I came as soon as I heard of your arrival, Lord Blackie,” said King Melandrach.

The elven king made sure to address the seven-headed monster with honorifics. He knew very well of its temperament.

The sixth head snorted, “We’ve been waiting for almost an hour. Do you think we have all day to spare, elf?”

The third head hissed, “Enough. As the loyal servant of God Evander, we shouldn’t sully our image like this. Learn to show some respect to the elven king.”

The other heads were clearly displeased, but decided not to utter another word.

The third head said, “I hope you don’t take their words to heart, King of Elves.”

King Melandrach awkwardly laughed. Even if this seven-headed monster disrespected him in front of his men, even if it started cussing him, what could he do? This creature could easily destroy their kingdom if it wished to.

“Of course,” said King Melandrach. “So, what did Lord Blackie come here for?”

“You must have already heard it from your men,” said the third head. “We wish to temporarily borrow the authority over the barrier of this kingdom, King of Elves.”

King Melandrach did his best not to stutter as he asked, “Can… Can I know the reason for this, Lord Blackie?”

King Melandrach had a bad feeling about this.

Using wind magic, two figures started floating from the Scylla’s back. Their bodies were bruised and battered. Blood dripped from their skin. There were even bones protruding out of their flesh.

“H-Humans?” King Melandrach’s face drained of all color upon seeing the two figures.

“Dragons,” corrected the third head.

Everyone turned dead silent.

Dragons?

Those mythical creatures that were said to be capable of destroying nations on their own?

“D-Dragons?” said King Melandrach. His composure finally broke down. He wondered if what he heard was correct. “W-What do you mean, L-Lord Blackie?”

The first head angrily hissed, “This elf sure is stupid! They’re dragons under the polymorph spell! Use your brain, you fucking elf! You damn piece of shit! If you continue—”

The first head stopped upon seeing the third head glaring at it. The first head mumbled, “Do what you want.”

The third head said to King Melandrach, “It’s just as you heard, King of Elves. They’re dragons. These foolish creatures dared lay their eyes on the territory of our God. As such, we had no choice but to punish them. The protection of the territory has been entrusted to us by God Evander, after all. There are no in-betweens.”

Surreal words had just come out of the Scylla’s mouth.

Oh God Gaia.

The Scylla had just beaten two dragons in a fight?

They knew that the Scylla serving Evander Alaester was strong—but not this strong.

“Dragons have very high regenerative capabilities,” said the Scylla. “These two will wake up soon. We need the barrier to contain them before the interrogation.”

After pondering for quite some time, the Scylla had come up with this idea. It couldn’t risk the safety of Blackstone Town, no matter what. Thus, it decided to come here to the elven kingdom.

“In order to shackle these fools,” said the third head. “Lend us the barrier for a bit, elven king.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 10

Shahaneth regained consciousness earlier than her father. The moment she woke, the memories of how they were beaten by the seven-headed monster resurfaced in her mind. They’d never suffered such humiliation and defeat.

That was close, she thought.

Stricken by horror, she almost jolted and looked around her surroundings. Fortunately, she immediately managed to regain her calm and control over her mana. The seven-headed monster might be close. It could even be watching her. She couldn’t afford to let it know that she’d already regained consciousness. She needed to bide for time. With the resilience of those belonging to the dragon race, she should be able to fully recover from these grave injuries in a matter of days.

She kept her eyes closed, suppressed her mana, and heightened her senses. As expected, the seven-headed monster was close—it was right beside her. Moreover, she could feel hundreds of other presences nearby.

“What did my God use as a medium for the barrier?” said a deep voice.

Shahaneth remembered that voice well. It was the voice of that damnable seven-headed monster.

“L-Lord Evander engraved the runes and formations on the national treasure of the kingdom,” said another voice. “It was engraved on the mithril shield stored in the Royal Sanctum.”

Shahaneth started putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

“A mere mithril was used as a medium for our God’s magic?” said the seven-headed monster. It sounded displeased for some reason. “I shouldn’t have expected much from elves!”

“What are you waiting for, elven king? How long are we going to keep having this conversation?” Another deep voice spoke. “Bring us the medium!”

Elven king?

Shahaneth was surprised. She thought that the elves had gone extinct long ago.

Had the seven-headed monster brought her to an elven kingdom? And what was this barrier they were talking about? There was also the mention of a so-called God.

Shahaneth heard someone whisper, “What should we do, Your Majesty?”

A voice, who she presumed to belong to the elven king, replied, “At this point, what can we do?”

Although clearly reluctant, the elven king seemed to have finally given up.

“B-But Your Majesty! We can’t possibly hand over the authority over the barrier like this!”

“Enough! Think about it carefully, Minister Wranfir! The Scylla is probably here under the command of Lord Evander Alaester,” said the elven king. “At his peak, that human was heralded as one of the strongest humans to have roamed this land. He could easily destroy us if he wishes. We can’t afford to lose that being’s protection, no matter what!”

Evander Alaester.

Shahaneth remembered previous reports of the dwarven king.

According to the information network set up by the dwarves, there were rumors that the current King of Lukas was associated with that legendary magician. There were even rumors that the two were one and the same—information they had yet to truly verify.

“Stop whispering among yourselves, elves,” spat the seven-headed monster. “An hour. If you fail to bring me the medium, I’ll start destroying the damnable elven oaks around this area.”

Although she had her eyes closed, Shahaneth clearly felt the elves’ terror.

“W-We’ll bring it right away, Lord Blackie!” said the elven king.

Shahaneth felt over a hundred presences leave the area. It seemed that the elven king had left for the so-called medium.

“And you. How long are you going to pretend to be asleep, lizard?” said the seven-headed monster.

Shahaneth shuddered.

She still hadn’t recovered even a small portion of her health. In her current state, even if she turned into a dragon, it would be impossible to win against the seven-headed monster.

“I will count to three. If you don’t open those damn eyes,” threatened the seven-headed monster. “I will rip off one of your arms. One…”

Shahaneth knew that the seven-headed monster wouldn’t hesitate to rip out her arms if she didn’t do as she was told within the designated time.

Without waiting for the seven-headed monster to finish counting, she stood from the root-blanketed ground and opened her eyes.

“Wait! I’m awake!” she said.

After taking a quick look, she realized that she was indeed at an elven kingdom. Hundreds of elven oaks, which served as the residences of elves, towered over the surroundings. Each of the houses were connected by wooden bridges, serving as the kingdom’s streets. From afar, she could see a gargantuan ancient tree at the center of the city.

‘A barrier.’

Shahaneth noticed the barrier enclosing the city. To her utter surprise and horror, it was created using the same spell protecting the dwarven kingdom.

Heaven’s Dominion.

The pinnacle-grade barrier that she thought was exclusive to dragons.

First the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas, then Blackstone Town. And now, this. It was absurd that pinnacle-grade barriers were protecting all of these territories.

“I should have pierced your chest before.” The first head moved closer to Shahaneth. “I didn’t expect you to wake up this soon.”

The fifth head said to the other heads, “Maybe we should let her remove the polymorph spell? Let her turn into a dragon. The aftermath of a battle should teach those damn elves a lesson.”

The sixth head nodded slowly. “Not a bad idea. They kept blabbering among themselves, as though they have a choice in the matter. How foolish.”

The first head said, “So, what is it? We’ll allow you to remove your polymorph spell, lizard. Go. Revert into your dragon form.”

Shahaneth gnashed her teeth. Although she woke up earlier than her father, she still hadn’t recovered much of her health. Fighting against the Scylla, even in her dragon form, would be foolish.

“Why are you doing this?” said Shahaneth.

“You do not have leave to ask questions, lizard,” said the first head. It arrogantly added, “A mere hatchling like you who’s lived for just a few hundred years does not have the authority to question us.”

Although Shahaneth didn’t know much regarding the seven-headed monster’s race, she knew that the one before her was an ancient monster. A creature even older than her father.

The third head, who’d been silent until now, said calmly, “Why are you observing that town? What is your purpose?”

Judging by the way the third head spoke, it seemed to be the most reasonable among the seven.

Should she tell them the real reason behind their visit to that town?

Should she tell them that they were there to see for themselves the true extent of King Lark’s might?

While Shahaneth was deliberating whether or not she should divulge the reason behind their actions, an enraged voice was heard next to her.

“And why should we answer that?”

A shockwave blew past them, destroying the smaller trees in the process. Massive amounts of mana coalesced as her father, who’d just woken up, undid his polymorph spell and started reverting into his dragon form.

The Scylla, although capable of disrupting the transformation process, merely watched as Vulcan turned back into a fifty-meter crimson dragon. The first head’s eyes glimmered, as though it was pleased that Vulcan had turned into a dragon.

“You damn snake!” roared Vulcan, his words accompanied by dragon fear. The nearby elven warriors, who’d been staying inside the barrier, trembled. His enraged voice echoed through the forest. “You damn coward! You dared take advantage of our vulnerability during the polymorph spell!”

Vulcan stood face-to-face with the Scylla. His muscular body covered by metallic crimson scales, Vulcan appeared even larger than the seven-headed monster.

“I will kill you!” roared Vulcan. “For this humiliation, I will slaughter you!”

Vulcan opened his mouth wide. After gathering massive amounts of mana, he released a breath attack. A torrent of fire shot out and struck the Scylla right at the body. The trees around them caught fire, and in seconds, turned to ash. The nearby elves would have perished, had they stepped foot outside the barrier. The heat from the fire spell was so strong that even the rocks and boulders melted, turning into lava.

“T-The trees…”

“T-The f-forest!”

The elves fell to their knees seeing the aftermath of the breath attack. More than a thousand trees were destroyed with just one attack. And to make matters worse, the Scylla remained standing, its scales covered with burn marks. The elves realized that this was simply the start of the battle. They couldn’t help but shudder.

“That hurts,” said the first head. “The two of you woke up earlier than expected.”

“But maybe it’s better this way,” said the fourth head.

“That’s right,” said the seventh head. “This should teach those elves a lesson. They should have brought us the medium for the barrier right away.”

“And you, lizard!” roared the first head. It shot toward the dragon at a tremendous speed and bit its neck. “Do you truly believe that you’ll be able to win in this state!”

Vulcan was clearly struggling. He was already huffing after releasing just a single breath attack. It was apparent that he had not yet recovered from all the wounds he’d sustained during his polymorphed state.

The other heads also shot forward and started biting the dragon’s body. The scales of Vulcan, who had yet to fully recover, easily formed cracks. The sharp fangs of the Scylla pierced through the scales and tore through the Fire Dragon’s flesh, sending blood splattering about.

Vulcan tried biting back, but with all seven heads working together, the Fire Dragon was on the receiving end of the battle. Vulcan would have easily resisted such attacks had he been in his healthy state.

“I am the Ancient Fire Dragon, Vulcan!” roared the leader of the Fire Dragons. “Even if I die, I will make sure to bring you with me to our ancestors!”

Vulcan flapped his wings. He flew up, bringing the Scylla, who’d been biting his body, with him.

“Damn snake! Die!” roared Vulcan.

It was a dog fight. Consumed by rage, Vulcan did not bother to cast any other spells. Without conserving his remaining mana, he simply released breath attacks, one after another. Some of them struck the Scylla head-on, while some struck the forest and the barrier.

King Melandrach, who was on his way to the royal palace to retrieve the medium, was horrified.

The forest was being engulfed by the Fire Dragon’s flames!

The fertile ground was scorched and tens of thousands of trees burned and turned into ashes. Fortunately, the heart of the kingdom of Aerith remained untouched by the battle between the two monsters. The pinnacle-grade barrier blocked all breath attacks, preventing it from reaching the kingdom.

King Melandrach started regretting not surrendering authority over the barrier sooner. Had they managed to shackle the dragons before they woke, this probably wouldn’t have happened.

The elven king thought that they should have immediately listened to the Scylla!

Even if the Scylla tortured those dragons, the elven king believed it didn’t matter as long as their kingdom and the forest were safe.

“Shahaneth! What are you doing?” said Vulcan. He realized he was no match against the Scylla in his current state. “Help me!”

Shahaneth hesitantly removed her polymorph spell. Slowly, her body turned into a dragon.

She roared, creating a massive shockwave that shook the elven kingdom. She spread her wings wide, flew up, and joined in the fight.

Breath attacks, concentrated orbs of mana, and gravity spells were fired one after another as the two dragons and the Scylla continued their aerial battle. The ground rumbled as the forest blazed with flames. Dozens of craters, spanning a hundred meters in diameter, were created as the concentrated orbs of mana struck the ground. The clouds started parting from the massive amounts of mana released by the three mythical creatures.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a battle like this!” said the first head in glee.

“That’s right!” said the seventh head happily.

“And these damn lizards think they can win against us in that state! Fools!” The fifth head laughed.

The scales of the Scylla were covered in scorch marks, and several of its heads were bleeding from the bites of the Fire Dragons. Still, it was in a better state than Shahaneth and Vulcan.

Almost half of the scales on Vulcan’s neck had already been destroyed by the Scylla; his flesh pierced by the seven-headed monster’s fangs. Shahaneth, on the other hand, had one of her wings almost torn off. Unable to maintain her flight magic, she fell and struck the ground.

The battle between Vulcan and the Scylla lasted for another hour. Almost a hundred thousand trees served as the battle’s collateral. Eventually, the leader of the Fire Dragons also fell and struck the ground.

The Scylla hovered above the two dragons. It sneered, it’s eyes clearly mocking them.

“As the losers of this battle, speak,” said the Scylla. “Tell us. Why are you observing that territory?”

Shackling these dragons using the pinnacle-grade barrier and torturing them for information was the Scylla’s initial plan. But this kind of ending did not feel so bad. Honestly, it was an exhilarating fight for the Scylla. It had been hundreds of years since it had fought anyone as strong as these two.

Vulcan tried moving, but his body refused to listen. After losing twice in a row against the seven-headed monster, his pride was gravely wounded. Although the Scylla took advantage of the weakness of the polymorph spell beforehand, Vulcan knew that at the end of the day, it was a two-versus-one battle. As a prideful creature, he could no longer utter any excuses.

They still lost, despite being in their dragon form.

“I will speak,” said Vulcan eventually. “I will tell you everything.”

Vulcan wouldn’t be able to bear the shame if he still refused to speak even after losing this horribly.

“But before that, tell me,” said Vulcan. “You’re an Earth Scylla, aren’t you? I don’t understand how a mere Scylla could become this strong. Your race shouldn’t be capable of winning against two dragons.”

Vulcan expected the Scylla to feel insulted upon hearing the question. But to his surprise, the Scylla unfolded its wings and wagged its tail. Its eyes glimmered with pride.

“Of course, we’re strong!” said the Scylla. “We were trained by the master, The Dragon Devourer himself!”

Vulcan’s eyes widened. The Dragon Devourer?

The legendary human who killed almost a hundred dragons over a millennium ago?

Although the Dragon Devourer had slaughtered dozens of dragons, the dragon race did not hold any grudge against him. On the contrary, they held him in high regard. The dragons followed only the strong, and the Dragon Devourer was said to be stronger than even the Elder Dragons. To the dragon race, he was a human more than worthy of being called their master.

“H-How old are you?” said Vulcan.

The Dragon Devourer lived more than fifteen hundred years ago. If this Scylla was truly its disciple, then it should be far older than him.

“Does it matter? I never bothered to count the years,” said the Scylla.

“I… I see,” said Vulcan, his voice meek and no longer domineering. Having lived for only six hundred years, he felt ashamed for calling himself an Ancient Fire Dragon.

His pride and confidence shattered, Vulcan started telling the Scylla everything. He started telling the Scylla about the foresight ability of his daughter, the information network of the dwarven kingdom, the dwarven envoy, their meeting with Lark using the communication crystal. Showing his sincerity, Vulcan divulged everything to the Scylla.

After Vulcan was done with his story, the Scylla fell silent. The Scylla’s heads looked at each other.

The third head, who seemed to be the calmest among the seven, started spouting dangerous words, “He acted so arrogantly before God Evander. Maybe we should tear off his wings.”

The first head added, “That won’t do. Let’s just kill him.”

The fourth head nodded. “I agree. Tearing off his wings is too light a punishment for his sins.”

Vulcan shuddered. What was happening? Why had the Scylla turned even more hostile all of a sudden?

Vulcan said, “W-Wait! We will submit to King Lark! As the leader of the tribe, it will be easy for me to convince everyone!”

The first head squinted. It angrily hissed, “Submit to King Lark? Of course, you should! But whether or not you become one of his people is an entirely different matter, lizard! Everything is up to God Evander!”

“You should have immediately come and begged on your knees when God Evander proposed the oath made of dragon’s blood!” spat the second head.

“Fool!” said the fifth head.

After spouting these words, the Scylla summoned several dozen more orbs of concentrated mana. Vulcan trembled, realizing that the seven-headed monster planned on beating him up again, simply for speaking rudely to their so-called God Evander.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 11

[Behemoth City—Capital of the Kingdom of Lukas]

Using Chryselle’s influence as Lark’s disciple, Reginald Vont was finally granted audience with the new king, despite Big Mona’s interference.

“I’m here to answer the summons of His Majesty,” said Reginald to the guards. Behind him were four of his men, each carrying a treasure chest.

The guards nodded. They’d already been informed of the merchant’s arrival.

After checking the contents of the chests, the guards said, “His Majesty is waiting for you inside.”

They opened the door to the throne room, and Reginald and his men entered. With purposeful steps, they walked across the red carpet and knelt in front of the throne.

“Reginald Vont greets the Heart of the Sun. I greet His Majesty, King Lark,” said Reginald.

“We greet the Heart of the Sun, His Majesty, King Lark!” Reginald’s men said in unison.

“You may raise your head,” said Lark.

Reginald looked up and gazed at the young man sitting on the throne. Although he’d seen him before, Reginald still couldn’t help but think of how suitable the young man was for this position. Despite his age, he was emanating a domineering aura that far surpassed the former King Alvis.

Two steps below the throne stood Chryselle, Big Mona, and the Grand Chamberlain.

“I heard from my precious disciple, Chryselle,” said Lark. He got straight to the point, “I heard you have something to show me?”

Big Mona clicked his tongue, clearly displeased that Reginald Vont had been granted an audience. Reginald inwardly smiled seeing the expression on the pig’s face.

Did Big Mona truly believe that he would forever hold the position of the king’s most-trusted merchant?

Reginald flashed his brightest smile at Lark. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He said to his men, “Open the chests.”

Reginald’s men opened the chests they’d brought with them, revealing the hundreds of mana stones inside.

“I recently got my hands on a mana stone mine, Your Majesty,” said Reginald. “And as His Majesty’s humble vassal, I wish to present the mana stone mine as a gift. A congratulatory gift for His Majesty’s ascension to the throne.”

Big Mona frowned hearing the word ‘vassal’ come out of Reginald’s mouth.

This scheming bastard, Big Mona thought.

Lark gazed at the hundreds of mana stones inside the chest. Although most of them were low-grade, he could see some middle-grade mana stones here and there. As the primary component of mana bombs, the gift would definitely prove useful in the battle against the demons.

“Partner, if I may speak,” said Big Mona.

Lark knew of the relationship between the two merchants. He said, “Go ahead.”

“I believe that the mana stone mine he is talking about belongs to Duke Kelvin,” said Big Mona.

Reginald almost flinched. How did Big Mona find out? It was a secret deal between him and the duke.

Big Mona smirked. “A gift? Preposterous. The mana stone mine belongs to the royal family in the first place! After the Kelvins were stripped of their title, all of their assets were confiscated! They now belong to the kingdom! They now belong to the royal family!”

Reginald hadn’t expected this sudden turn of events. He was confident of winning the new king’s favor with this gift. He hadn’t expected the deal between him and Duke Kelvin, which only the two of them knew about, to be revealed like this.

Reginald started regretting underestimating Big Mona’s information network.

“How dare a mere merchant claim that he owns a mine belonging to the royal family!” Big Mona raised his voice. “And as though that wasn’t enough, he even plans on gifting the said mine to His Majesty himself!”

Reginald was fuming inside, but he still suppressed his emotions from showing on his face. He carefully studied Big Mona. Only then did he realize how the information leaked.

Chryselle.

His daughter must have told Lark beforehand of the true origins of the mana stone mine. And through Lark, Big Mona managed to obtain this crucial information.

Why are you siding with the king, my daughter? thought Reginald.

He thought that after giving him the chance to have an audience with the new king, Chryselle would keep quiet about the mana stone mine’s true origins. Reginald hadn’t expected things to turn out like this. He hadn’t expected his daughter to choose her master over him.

“Your Majesty! This is an outright insult to the royal family!” said Big Mona in a heated voice. “He should be punished!”

For several seconds, Lark fell silent. Eventually, he said, “There’s no need to go that far.”

Lark’s calm voice was a stark contrast to Big Mona’s.

Lark said, “Reginald, the stone mine belongs to the Kelvins. Is this true?”

Reginald felt uncomfortable meeting his gaze. It felt like the new king could see through the veil. As though he already knew the truth, and was just waiting for Reginald to tell him everything.

Reginald continued suppressing his real thoughts from showing on his face. “It used to belong to the Kelvins. That’s correct, Your Majesty.”

Lark did not miss the addition of the words ‘used to belong.’ He said, “Used to belong?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Reginald. “The Vont family bought the mana stone mine from the Kelvins a year ago. Legally speaking, it is our family’s possession.”

“Words aren’t enough, partner,” Big Mona said to Lark. “A document of the transaction. The merchant needs to present one. Only then can we truly say that it’s indeed the property of the Vont family.”

Big Mona glared at Reginald.

Big Mona—the damn swine—must believe that the transaction was done illegally. Unfortunately for him, Reginald was meticulous when it came to things like this. He’d already forged documents related to the acquisition of the mana stone mines months before the execution of Duke Kelvin.

“I believe that Sir Mona Gaultier is right, Your Majesty,” said Reginald, smiling. “We shall prepare the transaction documents right away before handing over the mana stone mine to the royal family. It is only proper to do so.”

Lark looked at Big Mona. For some reason, it seemed that the new king was amused. Like he found the exchange between the two merchants entertaining.

“Can you look over the documents for me, Mona?” said Lark.

Big Mona gnashed his teeth. “Of course, Your Majesty. As your partner, I’ll make sure to check it carefully.”

Reginald inwardly laughed. The fat merchant would probably try to scrutinize the documents for any fraud or faults. But he was confident that no matter what the fat merchant did it would be futile. Duke Kelvin was already dead, after all. He wouldn’t be able to verify the document’s authenticity, no matter what he did.

“I trust Sir Mona Gaultier’s judgment,” said Reginald, still smiling.

Big Mona clenched his fist. He wanted to pummel Reginald to the ground. He could still remember when the Vont family drove his father to bankruptcy, causing him to kill himself to save his sons from the debt collectors.

Big Mona was about to speak when the pendant on Lark’s neck started lightly glowing. A message in draconian was transmitted to Lark, “God Evander. I’ve brought the two foolish lizards with me to the capital.”

At the same time, the commander of the royal guards barged into the throne room. “Your Majesty!” He was huffing, his face pallid. “Dragons! Dragons have arrived at the capital!”

Everyone in the throne room, aside from Lark who’d received the message from Blackie beforehand, were stunned. Even Reginald Vont, who’d managed to maintain a smiling face was horrified.

“Dragon?” mumbled Reginald.

It was a mythical creature heard of only in legends. They didn’t even know if the dragon, who was supposedly guarding the dwarven kingdom, truly existed. And now, one was suddenly at their doorstep?

“There should be two of them,” said Lark as he slowly stood up. “Where are they?”

“They’re staying at the outskirts, Your Majesty! Right outside the barrier, near the southern gate! A seven-headed creature is also with them!”

It was sounding more ludicrous with each passing moment. But to Reginald’s surprise, it seemed that Lark had already expected this. He looked as though he knew of their arrival before the commander even made the report.

“Reginald,” said Lark.

“Your Majesty,” said Reginald.

“Our meeting ends here,” said Lark. “I’ll meet with the dragons right away.”

“O-Of course.”

Accompanied by the royal guards, Lark went to the capital’s outskirts. As expected, a crowd had already gathered nearby. While staying inside the barrier, the residents of the capital gawked at the three mythical creatures sitting on the ground.

The only person outside the barrier was a single human—Elias Farsight, one of the Royal Court Magicians.

Despite facing the three mythical creatures, Farsight fearlessly stood his ground. Despite his usually aloof demeanor, it seemed that he planned on defending the capital should the dragons suddenly attack.

“Move! His Majesty is passing through!” said the royal guards.

The crowd parted.

“Your Majesty, please stay inside the barrier,” said the commander of the royal guards. “Until we verify whether or not the dragons are hosti—”

“It’s fine,” said Lark. He exited the barrier together with the royal guards.

Elias gazed at Lark and wordlessly stood by his side. Silent as always, Lark thought.

“God Evander!” Blackie happily greeted Lark in draconian.

Lark gazed at Blackie, then at the two dragons next to it. He noticed the innumerable injuries on the dragons’ bodies: their broken scales, torn wings, bleeding flesh.

With a single look, it was apparent even to the residents that these three had just fought.

“What brought you here? And what’s this? If I remember correctly, these two are members of the dragon tribe protecting the dwarven kingdom,” said Lark in draconian.

Blackie glared at the two dragons. It angrily hissed, “What are you doing? Kneel.”

Although reluctant, the two dragons lowered their heads and knelt before Lark. Everyone, Elias Farsight included, was stunned upon seeing this surreal sight. Although they couldn’t understand draconian, they realized that these mythical creatures were submitting to the king.

“We’ve been watching over Blackstone Town and its surrounding territories, as ordered by God Evander!” said Blackie. “And then, these two foolish lizards appeared!”

Blackie happily explained to Lark everything that had transpired until now. Its tail wagged every now and then as it recounted the story. The Scylla proudly told Lark how it had one-sidedly beaten up the two dragons while they were in their polymorphed state. How it defeated its foe using the knowledge imparted to it by the Dragon Devourer. Lark frowned when he heard the part wherein a large portion of the forest had been destroyed during the battle, but he decided not to bring it up for now. The more pressing matter at hand was the dragons.

“Then, are you telling me that the two of you wish to come under my command?” said Lark in human tongue.

The two dragons easily understood Lark’s intention. The human king wanted his people to hear the exchange between him and these mythical creatures.

“That’s correct, King Lark,” said Vulcan, his voice soft and meek. “We wish to submit ourselves to you. Please allow us, the Fire Dragons, to become your servants.”

It was no longer an alliance, but a master–servant relationship. Blackie must have beaten these dragons to the point that they turned this meek. Their previously domineering aura was nowhere to be found.

Vulcan and Shahaneth turned into humans using polymorph. Seeing the spell for the first time, the people watching gasped in awe. In their human form, the dragons looked breathtakingly beautiful.

“As a show of our sincerity,” said Vulcan. He cut his flesh using his claymore. Blood dripped on the ground and formed a magic formation. “We shall swear an oath made with our dragon’s blood. An oath of our allegiance to this kingdom. Our allegiance to King Lark.”

Shahaneth mimicked the actions of her father. Using dragon’s blood, the two of them made a binding oath and swore their eternal loyalty to King Lark.

In a single day, this event, witnessed by hundreds of people, spread throughout the capital.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 12

[Demon Realm—The Great Cavern]

Muuka, the old tormentor assigned to oversee the Great Cavern and the portal, had been sparing no effort in keeping the portal connected to the mana well below. Every day, without fail, he continuously maintained and studied the pathway of mana.

“How… odd,” mumbled Muuka.

The old tormentor stared at the mana measuring device in his hands. On the gemstone embedded on the center of the device, more than a hundred lines intersected with each other. This meant only one thing: currently, there were over a hundred sources of mana surrounding the portal on the other side.

“Is the device broken?” said Muuka.

With how unstable the portal was, it wouldn’t be strange if the device showed multiple sources of mana surrounding it. But a hundred of them was too aberrant. No matter how broken and winding the pathway of mana was, it shouldn’t show such results on the mana measuring device.

“Chief Muuka,” said one of the tormentors guarding the Great Cavern. “The Lord of the Corrupted Land wishes to meet with you.”

Muuka did not take his eyes off the mana measuring device. “What did he say?”

“The Lord of the Corrupted Land is demanding an explanation why you’ve closed off the Great Cavern.”

Muuka sighed.

Really, the Demon Realm did not have any shortage of incompetent tribe leaders. First was the coward, Plagas. And now the bloodthirsty demon, Digtree. For a demon who could live for over a millennium, he couldn’t even wait a couple of months before using the portal.

If only the tribe leaders were as great as his master, the Lord of the Red Tower, Muuka believed that the Demon Realm would have reached far greater heights long ago.

“Tell him that I’ll meet with him, once I’m done assessing the por—”

“Muuka!”

A roar amplified by mana was heard from the outside. It was from Digtree, the Lord of the Corrupted Land.

“How long are you going to make us wait, you damn old tormentor! If you don’t open up the Great Cavern, I’ll personally destroy the entrance and drag you here!”

Muuka’s face turned grim.

He could bear the lies and cowardice of Plagas, but he always found it hard to tolerate this mindless brute who ruled over the flesh eaters.

The tormentors guarding the pathways in the Great Cavern trembled hearing the threat from the Lord of the Corrupted Land. They all knew how overbearing the tribe leader was. They knew that he would really blow open a new entrance to the Great Cavern if Muuka did not come out.

“Chief Muuka…”

Muuka stored away the mana measuring device. He said to his men, “Stay here. Do not let anyone enter without my permission.”

“Yes, Chief!”

Muuka hissed at the seventy-meter large metallic snake coiled on the ceiling, “Arboa, come with me.”

The metallic snake uncoiled itself and followed Muuka through the large pathway leading directly outside. Reaching where the Arzomos Village used to be located, Muuka was greeted by the Lord of the Corrupted Land and over a hundred thousand flesh eaters.

The flesh eaters, which resembled ghouls at first glance, stood perfectly still as their long tongues hung out. These demons always followed the command of the strongest in their tribe, no matter how unreasonable. This was one of the reasons Muuka always regarded their kind as mindless brutes.

“You finally came out, damn slave,” spat Digtree.

Muuka carefully observed the army gathered before him. Judging by the fact that three high-ranking officers from their tribes’ army were here, it seemed that they planned on storming the Great Cavern today. Even their lord came while wearing his precious artifact.

As barbaric as always, thought Muuka.

“I am not a slave, Lord Digtree,” Muuka said calmly. “I am Lord Elrenar’s right-hand man. His most loyal and faithful vassal.”

The large metallic snake, one of the strongest creations of the Red Tower, appeared behind Muuka and loomed over the army of flesh eaters.

“And I’m certain I’ve told you this before, Lord Digtree,” said Muuka. He placed his hands behind his back as he added, “We’ve found some anomalies with the portal’s mana. It is advisable for the wraiths and the flesh eaters to wait until we’ve verified its source.”

With the colossal snake behind him threateningly hissing at the flesh eaters, Muuka’s words contained far heavier weight than before. Even Digtree became hesitant in forcing his way inside the Great Cavern. The metallic snake was, after all, a creature almost as strong as the Chimera.

“Muuka, you said it yourself,” said Digtree grimly. “You’re just the right-hand man of the Lord of the Red Tower! How dare you block our path when we’ve been given permission by the Demon Lord Barkuvara himself!”

Muuka was undaunted even hearing the Immortal Demon’s name. “As a reward for successfully connecting the severed pathway of mana of the portal to the mana well below, the Red Tower has been granted full authority over the Great Cavern and the portal. The Demon Lord knows this very well. I will repeat. Wait for us to finish examining the aberrant source of mana, Lord Digtree.”

Digtree did not like how the old tormentor looked at him. There was not even the slightest hint of fear in Muuka’s eyes, even when facing over a hundred thousand flesh eaters.

“You…” growled Digtree. “Do you really think that stupid snake will be enough to protect you?”

Muuka frowned. He said exasperatedly, “Protect me? Of course not. I’m certain you’d be able to kill me, Lord Digtree, if you wished to.”

But of course, thousands of them would die in the process before they could kill the metallic snake. Muuka did not voice this out loud.

It was frustrating.

Muuka couldn’t understand why these mindless brutes couldn’t wait for a couple more months before entering the portal. He was already close to finally figuring out what was wrong with it.

“The mana measuring device can’t be wrong,” said Muuka. He’d already repeated the tests several times prior. “At this point, it is almost certain that our enemies in the Human Realm left behind a trap. And it will probably be activated the moment you step foot into the portal. Think carefully, Lord Digtree.”

“What could a trap left behind by mere humans do to us?” sneered Digtree.

“You must have heard it yourself, Lord,” said Muuka. “Even Lord Plagas had to flee from that human.”

Digtree loudly cackled. “Plagas! Of course he would flee! That coward!”

Digtree stomped his foot forward, and the rocks around where his foot landed were immediately corrupted and turned into dust.

Seeing that Digtree did not fear the human’s trap, Muuka resorted to pointing out the flaws of the flesh eaters. He wanted to prevent them from crossing over to the Human Realm, at least until he’d finished analyzing the aberrant source of mana in the portal.

“Lord Digtree,” said Muuka. “The Arzomos had relocated the portal right above the ocean. Unlike the parasitic demons, the flesh eaters are unable to breathe underwater.”

This move by the Arzomos elder before he died was among the greatest deterring forces for the demons.

“We already have a solution for that,” Digtree said condescendingly. “Bring out the scales.”

The officers of the army took out several chests filled with glimmering scales. As one of the head researchers of the Red Tower, Muuka recognized them.

“Scales of the Naga Tribe,” said Muuka.

He was taken by surprise. The scales of the strongest sea demons—the Naga Tribe. The same tribe Xazal belonged to. The tribe that ruled over the vast seas of the Demon Realm.

Pulverizing the scales of a Naga and ingesting the powder would give one the ability to breathe underwater for several days. It was more than enough time for the flesh eaters to cross over to the human lands.

“H-How did you get your hands on those?” said Muuka.

The Naga Tribe was the only major tribe in the Demon Realm that refused to free the Demon Lord Barkuvara from the ice prison.

The sea of the Demon Realm was so vast that Muuka did not expect that the Demon Lord’s army would be able to retaliate so quickly against the Nagas.

“How else?” Digtree grinned broadly as he reminisced how they massacred the members of the Naga Tribe weeks ago. “You should have seen it, Muuka. Xazal’s face as we devoured the bodies of her kin. Even the strongest sea demons—the Nagas—are nothing but children before the Demon Lord Barkuvara.”

Digtree laughed. He licked his sharp, overgrown nails. “The Demon Lord Barkuvara did not even leave his throne! He merely sent a duplicate, a clone! And it was more than enough to massacre the sea demons!”

Muuka fell silent.

After the Lord of the Corrupted Land presented him the scales, and after hearing the story, Muuka knew that he had no choice but to let them enter the Great Cavern.

The old tormentor did not want to risk being branded a traitor. He did not want to suffer the same fate as the Naga Tribe.

Muuka finally decided to concede.

“I see,” said Muuka. “Since Lord Digtree has gotten his hands on the scales, it would be impertinent if I hindered your path any longer.”

Muuka hissed and the colossal serpent burrowed itself underground, disappearing from sight. It was Muuka’s way of showing he no longer had any desire to block the flesh eaters’ path.

Muuka gestured at the Great Cavern. “We’ve managed to stabilize the portal somehow. But please remember what I told you, Lord Digtree. Chances are high that the humans left behind a trap for us on the other side.”

“Even that damn coward, Plagas, managed to survive his reconnaissance mission,” said Digtree. He pushed Muuka aside and went toward the Great Cavern’s entrance. “You worry too much. A mere human won’t be able to touch us.”

Digtree turned around and faced the army. He roared, “My soldiers! We’ve found a pristine land! Unspoiled! Untouched! A land we can corrupt!”

The flesh eaters roared in excitement.

“A land filled with vitality!” roared Digtree. “And humans! An exquisite delicacy!”

The flesh eaters started salivating. The ground rumbled as the soldiers of the Corrupted Land started stomping their feet.

“To the Human Realm!”

After swallowing the powdered scales, the army started entering the Great Cavern. Digtree led at the front, with his three officers closely following behind him.

Forget the wraiths. The Lord of The Corrupted Land decided not to wait for the other tribe. He deemed that he did not need them just to conquer the nations of mere humans.

Without hesitation, Digtree and his officers entered the portal.

And then it happened.

The moment the Lord of the Corrupted Land stepped foot into the portal, a massive shockwave swept through the Great Cavern. The entire region shook as the ground formed cracks.

The colossal serpent immediately unburrowed itself and coiled around Muuka, protecting him from the impact.

The shockwave was so strong that it almost destroyed the Great Cavern, a structure comparable in size to the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas. Moreover, it ripped the bodies of tens of thousands flesh eaters to shreds, sending flesh and innards flying about.

Muuka trembled.

So, this was behind the numerous sources of mana shown in the mana measuring device!

Over a hundred powerful explosion spells had been wrapped around the portal. The spell had been set to activate the moment the demons came out!

The metallic snake hissed in pain. A portion of its body was bleeding, its metallic scales destroyed by the shockwave. Muuka only managed to survive thanks to this creature.

What about the Lord of the Corrupted Land? thought Muuka.

After the shockwave receded, Muuka immediately went toward the portal. He passed by the rubble and the torn bodies of tens of thousands of flesh eaters.

Muuka felt shivers crawl down his spine as he thought of how close he was to his demise. Had he opened the portal instead of the Lord of the Corrupted Land, he would have surely perished instantly.

“Arboa! Help me!” said Muuka.

The metallic snake hissed and shot toward the Great Cavern. Using its large body, it created a new path toward the portal.

Upon arriving at the room where the portal was located, Muuka was stunned speechless.

The Lord of the Corrupted Land was dead.

There wasn’t even a trace of his body, nor that of his officers, remaining. Muuka bent down and picked up the armlet frequently worn by the Lord of the Corrupted Land. It was the artifact that gave him the ability to summon a Corrupted Tower. A structure that siphoned life from the land and gave birth to flesh eaters.

Muuka couldn’t believe it.

A tribe leader died after just a single spell.

Muuka rubbed his brows. His head ached just thinking of how he should report this to the Lord of the Red Tower and the Demon Lord.

Muuka looked around him, at the aftermath of the explosion spell.

For the first time, he understood why Plagas had fled from that unknown magician.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 13

After accepting Lark’s offer, Irene Chase immediately started working as the king’s secretary.

The position not only afforded her power on par or even higher than the ministers, it also gave her access to documents and information privy only to the royal family.

Inside her office in the king’s castle, Irene and several assistants browsed through ledgers and documents.

“Wallace, call the Assistant Minister of Finance,” said Irene, her hand adjusting her glasses.

Wallace was among the assistants assigned to help the new secretary. He was a young man in his mid-twenties who’d been working for the finance department for several years.

“The Assistant Minister of Finance?” said Wallace, his voice filled with worry. Two days ago, Irene called over a priest from the Water God’s Temple and accused him of corruption. And now, the king’s secretary was asking him to call over the Assistant Minister of Finance while wearing a frown on her face. Wallace did not have a good feeling about this.

“Is something the matter, Lady Irene?” said Wallace.

Irene placed down the document in her hand. “Wallace. Answer me. How far is the City of Trante from the capital?”

The new secretary terrified Wallace. It was as if she could see through everything. He almost avoided her gaze out of fear. “I-I’m not sure, Lady Irene. Probably a week or two?”

“Five days by cart, at the very least,” said Irene. “The kingdom’s law clearly states that all goods transported from a distance of a hundred kilometers or more will be charged with a tariff of twenty percent. But look at this!”

Irene grabbed the document on the table and raised it. “The total of all goods transported by the Old Peddlers Merchant Group is seven hundred gold coins! But upon entering the capital, they were only asked to pay fifty gold coins!”

Even Wallace could easily do the math and see the issue.

“Assistant Finance Minister Gregory granted entry to these merchants two years ago,” said Irene.

She’d been combing through the old ledgers of the finance department, looking for any anomalies and signs of corruption.

Following King Lark’s will, she made sure to pull out the corruption within the kingdom by the roots. It did not matter if the corruption occurred years ago. She was determined to make sure that the corrupt officials paid for what they’d done to this kingdom.

“What are you standing there for?” spat Irene. “You have two hours! Bring him to me! If he refuses, mobilize the royal army if you must!”

Despite her pretty face, she was a demon. Wallace couldn’t do anything but say yes to her every command.

“Y-Yes! Right away!”

After Wallace left, the entire room fell silent. Irene’s assistants nervously gulped, recalling her words. Some of them had been involved in under-the-table deals before. They were afraid the king’s secretary would find out about their deals sooner or later.

Irene leaned back on her chair. She looked at the ceiling.

Although the work was tiring, it was fulfilling. Moreover, she’d never felt this free before.

Before she became the king’s secretary, she always made sure to undermine her accomplishments. She always made sure to avoid unnecessary conflict. She believed a sticking out nail would always get hammered down. Although she was the daughter of the Lord of Golden Wheat City, they were still low-ranking nobles of the kingdom. They would be helpless, if they made enemies with powerful officials.

But now things were different.

King Lark promised her he would be a sturdy shield that would protect her, no matter what.

When she accepted the position of secretary, King Lark told her to go all out. He told her to pull out the roots of corruption within the kingdom, without minding who would become her enemies.

It was a liberating feeling.

With King Lark’s absolute might and authority, Irene felt untouchable.

She no longer had to fear for her safety, as long as she was under King Lark’s wings.

“I’m going for some fresh air,” she said as she stood up.

The assistants, relieved, said, “Yes, Lady Irene.”

Irene left her office. Aimlessly, she walked through the vast hallways, looking for somewhere she could stay—for peace and quiet.

‘A Training Hall?’

Judging by the crest on the wall near the entrance, this was an area exclusive to the members of the royal family.

Irene was about to pass by when she heard the sound of air splitting. The sound was so sharp that she halted in her tracks. Her gaze naturally landed on the golden-haired man swinging the sword.

The man noticed her gaze. He stopped slashing the air and stared at her.

Awkward silence fell.

At first, Irene thought that the golden-haired man would ask what a woman like her was doing there. But after several seconds passed, Irene realized that he had no intention of speaking.

Irene scratched her cheek. “I’m… just passing by. I apologize for disrupting your training, soldier.”

The golden-haired man remained silent. After some time, he spoke, “You’re master’s secretary. Lady Irene, is it?”

Master’s secretary?

Irene was surprised that the golden-haired man knew her.

“You… are?” said Irene quizzically.

Seeing her puzzled expression, the golden-haired man spoke, “Anandra. King Lark’s first disciple.”

Irene finally remembered. Indeed. There was a golden-haired man among King Lark’s disciples. She’d been so preoccupied with the kingdom’s matters that she’d failed to recall this fact.

Anandra did not speak after that.

The silence was so awkward that Irene unconsciously told him the reason she was here.

“I was looking for a quiet place to stay while awaiting the Assistant Finance Minister’s arrival,” she said, a bit bothered by the golden-haired man’s beauty. He reminded her of the statues of knights sculpted by master artisans.

Still not hearing a response, she added, “I’d planned to sit in the garden. I should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet there.”

Anandra stared at her for several seconds. Finally, he said, “The castle is large and the garden is in the opposite direction from here. They’re currently reconstructing the garden path near the servants’ quarters. You won’t be able to enjoy your break if you go there.”

Anandra pointed at the luxurious-looking bench near the wall. It was where the members of the royal family usually rest after training. “I’m the only one using this Training Hall as of the moment. As long as you stay quiet, you can sit there in the corner.”

Irene hadn’t expected King Lark’s disciple to make such an offer. And to her surprise, she didn’t dislike it in the slightest. It was peculiar how she looked forward to sitting there, silently watching the man train.

“T-Thank you,” she said.

Irene sat on the bench and Anandra immediately resumed his training.

Irene almost gasped in awe as she watched the trajectory of his sword. It was beautiful. Each strike was simple, but just by the sharp cutting sound alone, she knew that it was a strike honed to perfection.

For over an hour, Anandra continued training, and she stayed there, silently watching. The awkward silence became comfortable, and the slash and stab of the sword became a mellifluous background.

After Anandra was finally done with his training, Irene stood up and commented, “That was beautiful. Who taught you how to wield a sword?”

Anandra sheathed his sword and wiped his sweat with a towel. “I’ve always known how to wield a sword from a young age.”

Had others said this, Irene would have found them overbearing and arrogant. But strangely, she was certain the man was not lying.

A natural genius. The only befitting description for King Lark’s first disciple.

Irene knew that even Sword Saint Alexander had a master who taught him the way of the sword. For a moment, she wondered how far this man would soar in the future. Several years from now, he would probably be a swordsman far more powerful than the remaining Sword Saint.

“I need to train the royal guards after this,” said Anandra. He went toward the entrance. After noticing that Irene did not understand what he was implying, he frankly said, “Only those with permission from the royal family can stay here. Since I’ll be gone, you need to leave, miss secretary.”

Irene’s ears flushed. “O-Of course! I’m leaving!”

What a straightforward man, Irene thought.

The two of them left the Royal Training Hall. Anandra locked the room and hooked the keys to his waist.

Seeing that the two of them were going in opposite directions, Irene decided to speak what was on her mind. “Do you always train here, at this hour?”

Anandra gazed at her, his face difficult to read. “Yes.”

Irene fiddled with her fingers. She mustered up her courage and said, “Then… can I watch you train again? Tomorrow?”

The man was really quiet, and the cutting sound from his sword was strangely soothing to the ears. Irene couldn’t explain it, but she was certain that this place was far more peaceful than the royal garden.

This is so embarrassing. What are you doing? Asking a man such things when you’ve only just met him, she thought.

She was afraid that Anandra would say no outright. But to her surprise, an entirely different response came out of his mouth. “As long as you do not disturb my training, you can come again tomorrow, miss secretary.”

Irene’s eyes glimmered and a smile bloomed on her face. She happily said, “Then, I’ll see you again tomorrow, mister disciple.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 14

After meeting with Lark in the capital, Vulcan and Shahaneth returned to the dwarven kingdom. Upon reaching the Lair, Vulcan recounted to the other Fire Dragons the events that transpired during their visit to the Kingdom of Lukas.

“Father, are you sure about this?” said Agnus, the youngest dragon within their tribe. “An oath made of dragon blood for a mere human?”

Vulcan understood exactly where the young dragon was coming from. Still, he couldn’t help but be vexed regardless. Vulcan angrily spat, “Foolish child. Do you think I made this decision without thinking it through?”

“T-That’s not what I meant, Fath—”

“If you can win against that damn Scylla even once, I’ll abdicate the position of tribe leader and let you lead !” snarled Vulcan. “Listen! King Lark! He is the same human who reared the Dragon Devourer!”

Under Vulcan’s fierce gaze, Agnus cowered. Although he’d already heard the gist of what happened during their visit to the human kingdom, he still couldn’t help but wonder what truly transpired for his father—the so-called Ancient Fire Dragon Vulcan—to become so submissive to a human.

“Now, now,” said Vesta, the wife of Vulcan. “Calm down, dear.”

Vulcan snorted, steam puffing out of his snout. Vesta affectionately rubbed her reptilian head against Vulcan’s.

“The two of you have already made the oath,” said Vesta in a sweet voice. “There’s no going back. All we can do now is serve that human, King Lark, to the best of our abilities. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Vulcan finally calmed down. He nodded. He said affectionately, “You’re the only one who truly understands me. I’m really glad I have you with me, Vesta.”

Vesta cast a glance at Agnus, wordlessly telling him not to babble and ruin his father’s mood any further.

“So, what do you want us to do, dear? You said that King Lark gave you a task before you left the capital,” said Vesta.

Vulcan recalled the conversation he’d had with Lark.

Before they parted ways, Lark asked him about the existence of powerful monsters around the dwarven kingdom. And upon learning that there existed several powerful species of monster within the dwarven mountain range, Lark requested Vulcan brought him the monsters’ corpses.

According to Lark, the more powerful the monster was, the better. Moreover, it did not matter if the corpses numbered in the thousands. The human king was willing to take all they could gather.

It was an odd request. Vulcan did not know why the human king was requesting the corpses of powerful monsters.

Well, at the end of the day, it did not matter. Vulcan already knew how to fulfill this task perfectly. As the absolute ruler of the dwarven kingdom, they could easily mobilize millions of dwarves to help procure the materials. Hundreds of thousands of dwarven warriors would march to the battlefield with a single command.

“Vesta,” said Vulcan.

“Dear.”

“I’ll be gone for a while,” said Vulcan.

Without waiting for his wife to utter a response, Vulcan activated the sigils within the heart of the Lair. The ground rumbled and rocks and dust started falling from the ceiling. Slowly, a two-hundred meter large entrance started opening above.

Vulcan flapped his wings, flew up, and went toward the Dwarven Royal Palace.

***

The Dwarven Royal Palace was in an uproar. The dragon had visited the capital of the kingdom. An extremely rare occurrence. It was a well-known fact that the Ancient Fire Dragon hardly left the Lair, even when meeting with the dwarves. Based on their records, the last time the dragon personally made an appearance was sixty years ago, a time when King Lerenon was still the crown prince of the kingdom.

“Where are the princes?” roared King Lerenon. His dignified demeanor was gone as he nervously paced back and forth near the throne room’s entrance.

It had already been several minutes since the Ancient Fire Dragon arrived at the royal palace and demanded the presence of King Lerenon and his four sons.

“T-The princes have arrived, Your Majesty!” said the chamberlain.

King Lerenon’s crumpled expression lightened somewhat upon seeing the four princes briskly walking toward him.

“What are you doing!” said King Lerenon. “The dragon is waiting! Hurry!”

“Yes, Father!”

Nervously, the five of them entered the throne room. The colossal door opened, revealing the gold-embroidered carpet leading all the way to the throne.

All of the dwarves inside the throne room were looking down to the floor, unmoving, afraid to meet the dragon’s gaze. Most of them controlled their breathing, terrified of making even the slightest unpleasant sound.

On the throne, Vulcan sat in his polymorphed state.

“King Lerenon and his sons humbly pay their respect to the Great Guardian Deity!” said King Lerenon.

The four princes uttered in unison, “We humbly pay our respect to The Great Guardian Deity!”

The hearts of everyone in the room thumped loudly. All of them anticipating what the dragon—the deity and the guardian of the kingdom—was going to say.

“Since this is a special occasion,” said Vulcan in a deep, domineering voice. “Just this once, I shall allow everyone to raise their heads. All of you are granted permission to lay sight on my visage.”

“This is the greatest honor!” said King Lerenon.

Everyone also followed suit, “This is the greatest honor!”

Slowly, the dwarves in the throne room raised their heads. They gazed at the middle-aged man sitting on the throne. His crimson hair was reminiscent of blazing flames, his red armor glistened from the touch of light. His slit-like reptilian pupils looked down on everyone as though they were ants.

“I came here in person today to make two important announcements,” said Vulcan.

The Ancient Fire Dragon paused, arrogantly gazed at everyone in the room, and said, “From today onwards, this nation shall be allies with the Kingdom of Lukas.”

Those words stunned everyone in the throne room—King Lerenon included. For centuries, the dwarven kingdom had kept to itself. It was regarded as the strongest nation in the entire continent. A nation that surpassed even the Great Empire, not only in technology, but also military might. They couldn’t believe that a time would come when the dwarven kingdom would ally itself with another kingdom, moreover that of humans.

King Lerenon opened then closed his mouth. He almost blurted out questions regarding the dragon’s decision. Thankfully, he managed to rein himself in at the last moment. Among everyone in this room, he knew the most that the dragon’s word was tantamount to law.

It would be too far foolish to question the dragon’s decision.

In the end, King Lerenon said, “Your will shall be done, Great Guardian Deity. From today onwards, the dwarven kingdom shall be allies with the Kingdom of Lukas.”

The Ancient Fire Dragon was satisfied with this answer.

“Lerenon,” said Vulcan.

“Great Guardian Deity.”

“I shall alter the entry conditions of the barrier. In order for us to become a haven for the residents of the Kingdom of Lukas in times of peril, we shall be opening the gates of our country to our allied nation.”

Vulcan knew that he should do this much, if he wished to gain King Lark’s trust.

“As you wish, Great Guardian Deity,” said Lerenon.

King Lerenon knew the characteristics of the barrier. Altering it to allow entry to the residents of the Kingdom of Lukas would end up letting other humans—even those from the Great Empire—enter the dwarven kingdom.

Still, Lerenon readily accepted the words uttered by the Ancient Fire Dragon, Vulcan. The only reason they’d managed to advance their kingdom this far, despite the rugged and dangerous terrain of the dwarven mountain range, was due to the protection of this mighty being.

Opening their barrier to the humans from the Kingdom of Lukas was a small price to pay in comparison. King Lerenon knew that they couldn’t afford to lose the dragon’s protection, at all cost.

“M-May I speak, Great Guardian Deity?” the third prince said in a stuttering voice.

King Lerenon glared at him. If looks could kill, he would have already cut the third prince into a thousand pieces.

Did he forget what he told them before?

The words of the dragon were absolute!

This foolish son…

Shivers crawled down King Lerenon’s spine as he thought of the repercussions.

The Ancient Fire Dragon stared at the third prince.

“I remember,” said Vulcan. “You’re the pathetic dwarf who fell unconscious back in my Lair.”

The third prince’s face flushed red.

“Speak,” said Vulcan.

“T-Thank you, Great Guardian Deity!” said the third prince. He hesitated for a moment, mustered up his courage, then said, “R-Regarding the barrier! Please reconsider, Great Guardian Deity! If we alter it to allow the Lukasians entry to the Dwarven Kingdom, won’t we—”

“You fool!”

The third prince stopped midway through his speech when a hand suddenly grabbed the back of his head and pushed it toward the ground. A loud thud sound reverberated in the throne room.

King Lerenon had just knocked his son unconscious before everyone.

King Lerenon kowtowed before the Ancient Fire Dragon. He said in a heated voice, “I apologize for my son’s foolish question! Just this once, please forgive us!”

The dwarven king’s face was more pallid than usual.

King Lerenon had noticed before everyone else. While the third prince was speaking, a sinister spell was being cast. Judging by the flow of mana, it was a spell meant to kill its target in a single strike.

Had he not stopped the third prince from speaking, the Ancient Fire Dragon would have blown his head off with that spell.

That damn fool! Had he forgotten? Never question the words of the dragon!

“Lerenon,” said Vulcan. “You are wise, unlike your children. It’s a real pity that none of them seems to have inherited your wisdom and strength. Very well, for your sake, I shall let this grievance slide. Just. This. Once.”

King Lerenon inwardly sighed in relief. He’d seen the dragon mercilessly kill his uncle. This creature treated not only humans but also dwarves as nothing but mere ants.

“I am forever grateful!” said Lerenon, his head still kissing the ground.

Vulcan stared at Lerenon for several seconds. “The second reason for coming here today is this: I shall now declare the trial the princes must undergo for the competition for the throne.”

The princes became excited.

“A long-standing tradition of this kingdom,” said Vulcan. “Only those who receive my blessing can ascend the throne and become the king of the dwarves.”

Vulcan released his fire aura, and a heat blaze swept through the throne room. The dwarves found it hard to breathe, but they endured regardless.

Vulcan declared in a domineering voice, “The prince who manages to complete this task to utter perfection shall obtain my blessing. The task is simple! Slay powerful monsters! Present me their corpses! It does not matter what method one uses. The results matter most! Show me your worth!”

The princes’ hearts thumped even louder.

The Ancient Fire Dragon’s words ignited their competitive spirit. They couldn’t wish for a more appropriate competition. After all, slaying powerful monsters would enable them to show the entire kingdom how powerful they were. They’d been compared to their father, King Lerenon ‘Blood Mithril’ Rugard, their whole lives. The princes wanted to show everyone that they held strength tantamount to their father. And this competition was the perfect chance to prove that.

“Two weeks,” said Vulcan. “The one who manages to slay the greatest number of powerful monsters will become this nation’s crown prince. Slay the monsters and bring the corpses to me.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 15

The dwarven mountain range was a massive territory with an area of ninety thousand kilometers. This region was home not only to millions of dwarves, but also hundreds of species of monsters.

There were five known monster-infested regions in the dwarven kingdom.

The Bottomless Gorge.

The Mudwater Forest.

The Poison Insect Paradise.

The Death Cavern.

And the Bloody Twin Forest.

All considered forbidden regions of the kingdom, the monsters living in these territories were so fierce and numerous that even King Lerenon had given up reclaiming these lands.

After receiving the dragon’s trial, the princes immediately mobilized their army. Tens of thousands of dwarven warriors, along with their weapons, equipment, and machinery, marched toward the monster-infested regions.

The first prince chose the Death Cavern as his target, the second prince, the Bottomless Gorge, the third prince, the Bloody Twin Forest, while the fourth prince chose the Mudwater Forest. None of the princes dared ventured into the Poison Insect Paradise, as it was a death trap that had already killed countless royals. The poison of the insect monsters lurking in the deepest parts of that region was so potent it could kill a dwarf instantly.

“Prince Hafnir,” said Gulan, the second prince’s right-hand man—the dwarven envoy who visited the Kingdom of Lukas and negotiated with King Alvis, before the war with the empire. “The power suits are ready. We can move out at any time.”

Prince Hafnir nodded his head. Out of the four princes, he’d invested the most in the Fifth Weapons Factory. He was confident he had the greatest number of power suits at his disposal. These five-meter tall mechanical armors were the pinnacle of dwarven kingdom technology. Its black exterior was made of tempered steel, its fibers were created using mithril, and its core was powered using middle-grade mana stones.

Although First Prince Margaro was far stronger than him in magic and swordsmanship, Prince Hafnir was confident of winning the trial using these artifacts.

After all, this wasn’t a test of their individual strength, but their ability to lead their men.

“Prince Hafnir,” said the leader of the reconnaissance group. “The scouts have secured the Bottomless Gorge’s entrance.”

“Well done,” said Prince Hafnir. He turned to the dwarven army before him. A thirty-thousand-strong army composed of dwarven light infantry, heavy infantry, cavalry, marksmen, mages, engineers, healers, and laborers. It was almost comparable in size to the Margaro Army. With the addition of the fifty dwarven warriors using the power suits, Prince Hafnir was confident of securing the Bottomless Gorge.

He roared, “Hafnir Army! The time has come! Everyone! All of you have been training for this very day! The day we prove to everyone that I, Prince Hafnir Rugard, am the most deserving of the crown!”

With heated gazes, all of the soldiers listened to the second prince. All willing to enter the Bottomless Gorge in order to help their liege ascend the throne. They believed that out of the four princes, the second prince deserved to be their ruler.

“To the Bottomless Gorge!” roared the second prince.

“Hoooah!”

“Hoooah!”

With those words as cue, they started marching toward the Bottomless Gorge. They descended the dwarven mountain range, and before reaching the Dragon’s Mouth—the region that served as the border between the White Stream Oasis and the dwarven kingdom—they entered a large fissure underground.

Torches and luminous devices were lit as the army descended the fissure. Although it was called the Bottomless Gorge, in reality, it was a deep underground fissure that spanned several kilometers. The hundreds of tunnels inside were home to an innumerable number of ferocious beasts and monsters.

Had it not been for the dragon’s trial, no sane dwarf would have dared enter this hellhole. Although the Hafnir Army numbered thirty thousand, everyone knew that if things went wrong, there was a chance they would be wiped out.

“My prince,” said Gulan. “Are you really not going to wear a power suit?”

The Bottomless Gorge was becoming darker as they went deeper into the fissure. Had it not been for the torches and the luminous devices, the army would have been met with total darkness.

Prince Hafnir shook his head. “Morale is important when leading an army. It’ll be better if I lead like this. And besides, I have you next to me.”

Gulan closed his eyes momentarily. He inwardly sighed. Although the second prince was right, Gulan still couldn’t help but be worried for his liege’s safety.

“I understand,” said Gulan. “Even if it costs me my life, this Gulan shall protect His Highness.”

Prince Hafnir carefully surveyed their surroundings. He mumbled to himself, “The dragon’s trial is truly difficult. Who would have known we’d be forced to enter the Bottomless Gorge like this? How amusing.”

The majority of the dwarves who entered never came out alive. And the lucky ones who did survive frequently told horrifying tales.

“Prince Hafnir!” said one of the military officers. “Darkmantles ahead!”

The luminous devices shot beams of light ahead of the army, revealing over a hundred black creatures resembling ogres. They had four arms, a long snout, and six-inch fangs.

“Above us! Ursus Bats!”

The beams of light also revealed several dozen bats hanging on the walls. Their faces resembled a rabid grizzly, and their bat wings, when unfolded, spanned four meters.

The Ursus Bats shrieked, releasing a shockwave that messed with the dwarves’ proprioception. And using this opening, the Darkmantles shot toward the dwarven army, their roars echoing through the Bottomless Gorge.

Gulan and the elite warriors who’d managed to resist the shockwave started issuing commands.

“Heavy infantry! Forward!” Gulan roared. “Mages, cast Iron Will on the affected warriors!”

The armored warriors, despite being affected by a shockwave, moved forward and intercepted the Darkmantles’ attack. The two forces clashed. The sound of metal clanking, of Darkmantles roaring, and of flesh being ripped apart became background.

After Iron Will—a spell capable of increasing a person’s mental fortitude—was cast, the dwarven warriors immediately regained their senses and fought back. The dwarven marksmen pointed their arquebus at the enemies and started firing projectiles. Even without the help of the dwarven engineers and the power suits, the Hafnir Army easily slaughtered all the Darkmantles and the Ursus Bats within their vicinity.

This was the power of a well-prepared thirty-thousand-strong army.

“Hafnir Army! Gather the corpses!” said Prince Hafnir. “Commander Sakruid!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

“You’ll be in charge of securing the gorge’s exit,” said Prince Hafnir.

“As you command!”

“Brognock.”

“My prince!”

“You’ll be in charge of securing all the monster corpses. Immediately send them to the capital and make sure to preserve them. As for the mana stones inside their bodies, leave them behind!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

After issuing these commands, Prince Hafnir led his army deeper into the Bottomless Gorge. As expected, they were attacked by numerous monsters along the way.

Darkmantles, Ursus Bats, Twin-headed Deathworms, Dark Phantoms, Flesh Mongers—the number of creatures attacking the army increased as they went deeper into the Bottomless Gorge. Enough to destroy a human city.

“My prince, we’ll be reaching the Abyss soon,” said Gulan. His sword, armor, and face were stained with the blood of the monsters he’d slain.

The Abyss was considered the deepest part of the Bottomless Gorge. It was where the Abyss Lurkers—the top predator of the Bottomless Gorge—dwelled. According to records, a single Abyss Lurker was powerful enough to fight on par with a dragonewt.

“We’ve already secured several thousand monster corpses,” said Gulan. “And we’ve been fighting for almost half a day. The army is exhausted.”

Hafnir wiped the blood off his face. Although he was not as great as Gulan in swordsmanship, he still led the army at the very front. He knew this was the least he could do to show his men his resolve.

“The casualties?” said Hafnir.

“Three thousand, My Prince,” said Gulan.

Had it been an ordinary human army, they would probably have lost several times that. It was already a great achievement that they’d managed to lose only that many men despite entering one of the Forbidden Regions.

Prince Hafnir looked at his soldiers. Seeing how exhausted they were, he issued an order: “Set up a camp in the areas secured by the Sakruid Unit. General Gulan will be responsible for overseeing the camp’s protection. Stop, rest, recuperate! We’ll be resting for the night!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The laborers immediately set up camp in the areas secured by the Sakruid Unit. Skillfully, they pitched tents and prepared dishes for the starving soldiers. General Gulan assigned dwarves in power suits, along with several light infantries and mages, to stand guard in key locations.

After he was done delegating tasks to his men, General Gulan entered the tent where Prince Hafnir was.

“You’re finally here,” said Prince Hafnir, his eyes glued to the map spread on the table. “How’s Brognock?”

Gulan stood next to Prince Hafnir. He looked at the map on the table. It was an incomplete map of the Bottomless Gorge. Numerous marks were written here and there, signifying the entrances within the fissure. There were also lines signifying the army’s escape route.

“He’s already sent most of the corpses to the capital,” said Gulan.

Prince Hafnir stroked his braided beard. “The dragon emphasized the need for the corpses. This expedition will be for naught if we’re unable to send those corpses back to the capital.”

“Of course,” said Gulan. “That’s why I’ve assigned three power suits to accompany the unit delivering the corpses to the capital.”

Prince Hafnir understood Gulan’s intentions. While the army was here in the Bottomless Gorge, the unit delivering the monster corpses would be an easy target for the other princes and members of their factions. Hopefully, the power suits would be enough to deter any unwarranted attacks.

“Gulan, do you know why I chose the Bottomless Gorge?” said Prince Hafnir.

“To hunt the Abyss Lurkers,” said Gulan. “They’re probably the strongest monsters in the mountain range, next only to the creatures living in the deeper parts of the Poison Insect Paradise.”

Prince Hafnir looked inside the room. He cast a basic silence spell, making sure no one aside from General Gulan would hear his following words. “That’s not it. Gulan, listen. I’m certain there’s an adamantite vein in this place.”

General Gulan’s eyes widened. He immediately connected the pieces of the puzzle. The reason Prince Hafnir conceded the right to conduct an expedition to the Death Cavern to the first prince. The reason he invested heavily in the Fifth Weapons Factory at a young age. The reason they brought pieces of mining equipment with them and several tools used to assess the soil and geographical region.

“This trial… There’s more to it than meets the eye,” said the second prince. “Do you know what happened to my father’s brothers after he became king?” He paused, breathed in, and said in a heavy voice, “Most of them died the same year my father ascended the throne. Was it a coincidence? Was it the doing of the dragon? Or did my father kill the threats himself?”

Prince Hafnir looked General Gulan straight in the eye. “You’re already aware of this—the only one who survived is Uncle Gorovir. The dwarf who holds the title of ‘greatest blacksmith’ in the kingdom.”

Prince Hafnir’s shoulders started quivering. Fear was evident within his voice. “Three decades ago, when I was eight, I accidentally discovered a hidden pathway in the Royal Library. And do you know what I saw there, Gulan? Records. A long list of names from the royal family dating back since the time of the kingdom’s founding. Their status, their background, their achievements—everything. What terrified me was the fact that all the crown candidates were killed the moment a crown prince was chosen. The number of princes spared could be counted on one hand. It was then that it dawned to me, Gulan, that I would die if I failed the dragon’s trial.”

Prince Hafnir clenched his fists. He still couldn’t stop his body from trembling. “And in order to prevent that from happening, I need to bear an achievement comparable to this kingdom’s greatest blacksmith. This is the real reason I became the staunchest supporter of the Fifth Weapons Factory at an early age. I realized I needed them to complete the power suits in order to explore the Bottomless Gorge. It’s the only way. Although we’re delving in dangerous territory, it’s still fortunate that we’ve managed to come this far in the Gorge.”

“Then… the adamantite vein,” said Gulan.

“Should I lose in the trial,” said Prince Hafnir in a determined voice, “I will present it as a gift to the Ancient Fire Dragon.”

Gulan’s eyes glimmered.

Unlike what most people believed, the second prince was no fool.

This conversation strengthened General Gulan’s loyalty even more. He silently vowed that should the second prince fail the test and die, he would gladly follow him to the afterlife.

The second prince was truly wise to use the trial not only as a chance to become the crown prince, but also to finally find the location of the adamantite vein.

General Gulan placed his right hand on his chest and said fervently, “This Gulan will dedicate his life in serving Your Highness! No matter what happens, I shall help you find the adamantite vein!”

“I expect great things from you!” said Prince Hafnir, nodding happily. “But for now, we rest! Tomorrow, we shall proceed deeper into the—”

“Prince Hafnir!”

The Vice Commander of the Sakruid Unit barged into his tent. The moment the tent’s flap was opened, Prince Hafnir and General Gulan caught a glimpse of the pandemonium outside. They must have not heard the commotion, due to the silence spell the prince had cast.

The prince and the general’s faces turned grim.

“What is it?” said Prince Hafnir.

The Vice Commander huffed, “Abyss Lurkers! Eight of them! They started attacking the rear! Our exit is blocked by those monsters!”

Prince Hafnir’s mind went blank for a moment.

What was happening?

He made sure they retreated before entering the territory of the Abyss Lurkers. He made sure the army kept a safe distance from the deeper parts of the Bottomless Gorge.

“From the rear?” said General Gulan. “That’s impossible. We already secured the route to our exit before making camp!”

“No, it’s possible,” said Prince Hafnir. “There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of entrances within the Bottomless Gorge. We must have missed some of them, and the Abyss Lurkers used them to reach the back of our army. General Gulan, the Abyss Lurkers are the top predators of this region not only because of their strength, but also their intelligence.”

General Gulan and the Vice Commander of the Sakruid Unit felt shivers crawl down their spines. It felt like they were the ones being hunted right now.

Prince Hafnir said to the vice commander, “What’s the situation outside?”

The vice commander replied, “More than half of the dwarves with power suits went to the rear to stop the Abyss Lurkers. I believe they’ve managed to stopper their advance for now!”

“More than half the dwarves with power suits went to the rear of the army?” said Prince Hafnir.

He had an ominous feeling about this. He looked at the map for a moment then went outside the tent. General Gulan and the Vice Commander of the Sakruid Unit followed. Outside, the military officers were issuing commands and redirecting more dwarven warriors to reinforce the rear.

Prince Hafnir decisively said, “General Gulan, issue the command to retreat.”

General Gulan was surprised. Weren’t they just talking about the existence of the adamantite vein? Why was the prince suddenly issuing the command to retreat?

What about the trial?

“My prince, isn’t it too early to—”

“Didn’t you hear me, General Gulan?” snarled Prince Hafnir. He looked really uneasy.

Prince Hafnir huffed, lowered his voice, and said to General Gulan, “This is probably a diversion. A trap. Our best choice of action is to pierce through the Abyss Lurkers blocking the rear of our army. We’ll just have to reorganize the army once we’ve escaped the Bottomless Gorge. Right now, our priority is survival!”

Hearing this, General Gulan realized the reason for the second prince’s sudden command. He saluted. “As you wish, Your Highness!”

General Gulan was about to issue a command when suddenly, a fast-moving object shot toward their direction. General Gulan reflexively moved in front of the second prince and cut the object in half, making blood splatter about.

“It’s… a dwarf,” said General Gulan, seeing the corpse he’d slashed in half.

A shrill laugh was heard. Everyone looked at the creature who threw the mangled dwarven corpse toward the second prince.

“A-Abyss Lurkers!”

“W-What are they doing here!”

“There’s so many of them!”

The dwarven soldiers were horrified to see over a hundred Abyss Lurkers latched on the walls. These four-meter large monsters resembled a wendigo, with seven-meter long serpentine tails which they used to climb walls and cliffs with ease. Their long arms reached past their ankles, their teeth were serrated, and their eyes numbered more than a dozen. Spikes protruded out of their backs. For centuries, their bodies had evolved to better hunt their prey in the Bottomless Gorge.

Prince Hafnir had planned on hunting these creatures down one by one, but it seemed that the plan had just gone down the drain.

Prince Hafnir quickly considered the pros and cons of confronting their enemies head-on in their current state.

“How many dwarven power suits do we have left?” said Prince Hafnir.

“Seven, Your Highness,” said the Vice Commander of the Sakruid Unit. “The rest were sent to the rear to take care of the Abyss Lurkers there.”

Seeing the number of Abyss Lurkers here proved that decision was wrong.

An Abyss Lurker roared, then dozens of them started running down the wall and shot toward the dwarven warriors below. Like a heated knife slicing lard, each of their strikes ripped apart the flesh of the dwarven warriors. The battle-hardened dwarven warriors started falling like flies, one after another.

“They’re targeting the mages! Protect them!” shouted one of the military officers.

True to the military officer’s words, the Abyss Lurkers penetrated the army and moved in to kill the mages at the back of the central camp. The dwarven marksmen tried to shoot them down, but the Abyss Lurkers moved swiftly and erratically, evading the projectiles.

“Power suits!” roared Prince Hafnir. “On me! Everyone, launch an all-out attack!”

Although the Abyss Lurkers were strong and numbered more than a hundred, there were still tens of thousands of dwarven warriors here. Prince Hafnir judged that they would suffer more casualties if they retreated. These Abyss Lurkers were sentient—they would surely chase the retreating army and slaughter everyone.

Prince Hafnir decided to fight the Abyss Lurkers here, then, once an opportunity arose, safely retreat.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 16

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Today marked the end of the dragon’s trial.

For the past several days, shocking events had transpired in the dwarven kingdom.

The first and the most shocking event was the death of the third prince. After leading his army into the Bloody Twin Forest, they unfortunately fell into the trap of an enraged Corrupted Dryad. Without even reaching the heart of the Bloody Twin Forest, the third prince’s army was annihilated.

Second was Margaro’s successful subjugation of the Death Cavern. Although it was impossible to fully clear the region of monsters, the first prince pulled off the impossible by killing the Black Puppeteer—the absolute ruler of the Death Cavern. A creature capable of turning corpses into its undead soldiers. Two days ago, the first prince returned to the capital, dragging the three-meter large body of the Black Puppeteer with him. This feat alone made everyone believe that the first prince would be the one to win the Ancient Fire Dragon’s trial.

Lastly was the defeat of the Hafnir Army. Although they’d managed to secure several thousand monsters from the Bottomless Gorge and killed over a hundred Abyss Lurkers, the army’s exit route was overrun by a monster stampede, and the warriors were forced to retreat to the deepest parts of the Bottomless Gorge. Although Prince Hafnir managed to return alive, out of thirty thousand dwarven warriors, only five thousand managed to survive.

Inside the Lair, in his polymorphed form, Vulcan stared at the communication crystal hovering before him. This was the communication crystal connected to the one King Lark had. For quite some time, he’d been contemplating whether he should ask for the reason behind Lark’s task.

“Why are you thinking about it so much, Father?” said Agnus. “Just ask the human king directly.”

Vulcan scowled at the youngest dragon. The hatchling was becoming more audacious as decades passed.

Vulcan spat, “If you don’t stop yapping that damn mouth, I’ll rip off one of your wings, Agnus.”

The young dragon shut his mouth.

Vulcan sighed, and after several seconds more deliberation, activated the communication crystal. Soon, a human voice was heard within the Lair.

“What is it?” said Lark.

The human king was probably the most impertinent human Vulcan had encountered in his hundreds of years of existence. But ironically, he was the only human deserving to be so. If the words of the Earth Scylla were indeed true, then this human was capable of obliterating their tribe of Fire Dragons.

“I have a question,” said Vulcan. He tried his best to appear dignified before the members of his tribe. “The monster corpses. What do you need them for?”

There were several seconds of silence. For a moment, Vulcan wondered if he’d overstepped by asking such a question. It was really a strange feeling—that a dragon like him felt the need to tread carefully when dealing with this human. Vulcan had never felt this anxious conversing with a mere mortal.

“If… If you don’t wish to divulge the reason,” Vulcan coughed to hide his uneasiness. “Of course, it’s understandable. Worry not, I shall fulfill this task you’ve entrusted me with to the best of my ability, King Lark.”

“No, that’s not it,” said Lark. “I was just thinking of the best way to explain it.” He paused, then said, “Vulcan, have you heard of the Essence Animation Spell?”

Vulcan’s eyes slowly widened. He immediately realized why the human king had asked him to gather all those corpses.

The Essence Animation Spell was similar to necromancy. Necromancy worked by communicating with the dead and animating their corpses, while the Essence Animation Spell worked by extracting the essence from a corpse and transferring it to a non-animate object, giving life to it. Both spells had their pros and cons, but Vulcan found the Essence Animation Spell far superior. Unlike necromancy, as long as the available materials permitted, it was possible to grant a stronger body.

“The spell capable of giving life to inanimate objects,” said Vulcan. “King Lark, are you planning to give rise to an undead legion?”

“Undead legion?” said Lark, sounding somewhat amused. “That sounds too barbaric, Vulcan. Tens of thousands of living suits of armor created using the essence of strong monsters. Since I was originally the Lord of Blackstone Town, don’t you think the name Blackstone Legion fits better?”

How terrifying.

If he managed to pull this feat off, he would be able to create an army capable of stopping the demons’ advance on its own. These living suits of armor would be impervious to poison, parasitization, and other spells capable of enfeebling living creatures. And if they were created using only the strongest monsters from the Forbidden Regions, each of them would be strong enough to fight against high-ranking knights on their own. Moreover, these creations would never tire and would remain loyal to their master, until the essence used to create them ran out.

“A Blackstone Legion…” mumbled Vulcan.

With this knowledge, he finally knew what criteria to use when judging the achievements of the dwarven princes in his trial.

“We’ve managed to procure the corpses of several thousand strong monsters, King Lark,” said Vulcan. “I will contact you again soon, once we start delivering them to the capital of your kingdom.”

“I look forward to it.”

The communication was cut off, and Vulcan finally released the sigh he’d been holding.

“It seems the criteria when choosing the crown prince is now clear, dear,” said Vesta.

“That’s right,” said Vulcan. “If it’s the Essence Animation Spell, the sooner we deliver the corpses to the human king, the better.”

It was time to choose the winner of the trial.

Vulcan, in his polymorphed state, left the Lair and went to the dwarven royal palace.

***

[Dwarven Royal Palace]

“How is he?” said Prince Hafnir.

Lying on the bed was the unconscious General Gulan. When he first arrived in the medicine hall of the royal palace, his body was riddled with cuts and injuries, his face swollen, and some bones were protruding out of his body. The head of the medicine hall said it was a miracle that the dwarven general managed to survive.

“Looks like he’ll survive, Your Highness,” said the dwarven healer.

Prince Hafnir sighed in relief.

After they’d killed over a hundred Abyss Lurkers, the monsters hiding within the tunnels of the Bottomless Gorge emerged, forming a monster stampede. The tens of thousands of monsters forced their army to retreat to the deepest part of the Gorge. There, General Gulan led their army at the forefront and put his life on the line to save the second prince. From their retreat, their defense, to their escape—would have been impossible without General Gulan’s impeccable leadership skills.

“It’s fortunate that we managed to get our hands on that potion from the human kingdom,” said the dwarven healer. “When we first heard of a miraculous healing potion from one of our spies, we simply dismissed it as rumor. Who would have thought that the same potion we procured on a whim would end up saving the general?”

The dwarven healer smiled wryly. They’d only managed to obtain two vials of the potion despite their vast network of connections in the Kingdom of Lukas. The potion was so rare that even with vast amounts of money, it was hard to procure in the black market.

“Middle-grade healing potion, was it?” said the dwarven healer. “The name suggests that there’s a higher-tiered potion than the one we used to save General Gulan. How… curious. If only we could obtain more vials of this medicine, we could thoroughly study how the humans concocted it.” The dwarven healer started getting excited at the very thought. “My prince, say… would it be possible for you to send some of your men to investigate the origins of this medicine?”

The dwarven healer expectantly waited for the second prince’s response. Seeing the second prince’s grim face, the dwarven healer realized he’d overstepped his bounds. He recalled that the Hafnir Army had just lost more than half of its warriors after their failed expedition in the Bottomless Gorge.

“I-I misspoke!” The dwarven healer hastily bowed his head out of fear and embarrassment. “It’s rare for us to get our hands on medicine as potent as this. I had no intentions of—”

“It’s fine,” interjected Prince Hafnir. “I’ll let this one pass. Please, just do your best to save the general.”

“Of course,” said the dwarven healer.

After Prince Hafnir left the medicine hall, he went back to his room and slumped on his bed. Once again, he recalled the events that transpired several days ago in the Bottomless Gorge.

“My elder brother has pretty much won this competition,” he mumbled.

The Black Puppeteer was the ruler of the Death Cavern. Now that it had been slain, over the years, it should be possible to clear that region of monsters and incorporate it into their kingdom once again.

Although the Hafnir Army had managed to kill over a hundred Abyss Lurkers, they were unable to secure most of the corpses due to the chaos brought forth by the monster stampede. In total, they were only able to deliver forty Abyss Lurker corpses to the capital.

“Just a little bit more,” said Prince Hafnir. “If only I was given more time to explore the Bottomless Gorge.”

Not only had he lost most of his soldiers, Prince Hafnir hadn’t managed to find the exact location of the adamantite vein. He’d read from an old journal in the secret room of the Royal Library that there was a large deposit of adamantite in that area. The only reason the dwarven royal family was unable to mine it was due to the presence of innumerable monsters in the Bottomless Gorge. This information was buried over the centuries, and Prince Hafnir believed that even his father was unaware of its existence.

Knocks were heard on the door.

The voice outside anxiously said, “Prince Hafnir! The Great Guardian Deity, the Ancient Fire Dragon, has arrived! His Majesty, King Lerenon, orders all of the princes to gather at the throne room at once!”

Those words jolted Prince Hafnir fully awake. He jumped from his bed, quickly fixed his clothes, then went to the throne room. Just like before, King Lerenon and the other princes were already outside.

“Don’t make the dragon wait,” said King Lerenon. “Let’s go.”

The large door opened and the king and the three princes entered. Not daring to look at the Ancient Fire Dragon sitting on the throne, they all knelt.

They said in unison, “We humbly pay our respect to the Great Guardian Deity!”

As before, no one dared look at the dragon unless given permission.

“I’ve seen the list of monster corpses gathered by the princes,” said Vulcan. He’d heard about the death of the third prince during the expedition to the Bloody Twin Forest, but couldn’t be bothered to mention the incompetent dwarf. “I came here today to announce the winner of the competition.”

All of the ministers, officials, and warriors in the room had an inkling of who would win the competition. The third prince died, the second prince nearly had his whole army annihilated, the fourth prince had mediocre results in his expedition to the Mudwater Forest, while the first prince garnered tremendous achievements by killing the monster ruling the Death Cavern.

By this point, the announcement was just a formality. Everyone already knew that the first prince had won the trial and would soon become this nation’s crown prince.

But contrary to everyone’s expectations, a different name came out of the Ancient Fire Dragon’s mouth.

“Hafnir Rugard,” said Vulcan. He noticed the astonished reactions of those in the throne room but chose to simply ignore them. To him, the opinion of these insects meant nothing. “I hereby declare you the winner of my trial.”

Vulcan raised his right hand and willed tremendous amounts of mana to gather on it. The mana took form and turned into a red, fiery crystal.

“This is the same blessing I gave Lerenon, your father,” said Vulcan. “Take it.”

Prince Hafnir was still in a stupor as he stared at the crystal in Vulcan’s hand. Just like the others, he couldn’t believe the words that came out of the dragon’s mouth.

He won the competition?

Everyone, including him, knew that Margaro had managed a feat far greater than his. Even the monster he’d slain—the Black Puppeteer—was stronger than the Abyss Lurkers in the Bottomless Gorge.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the first prince wanted to complain regarding the results of the competition, but was too afraid of the dragon to utter any protest.

“Hafnir,” said King Lerenon in a low voice, “What are you doing? Take it!”

Prince Hafnir finally broke out of his trance. With an unconfident gait, he slowly walked toward the throne. Without looking the Ancient Fire Dragon in the face, he touched the red crystal.

The red crystal broke into numerous particles of light the moment Prince Hafnir made contact. The particles of light spun around the second prince, before shooting toward his chest and merging with his body.

“Ugh!”

Prince Hafnir nearly lost consciousness the moment the crimson particles of light entered his body. It was hot—scorchingly so. It felt as though he was being melted from within, and it took Prince Hafnir everything just to remain standing.

“As expected,” said Vulcan, his expression neither interested nor amused. “You did not inherit the strength of your father. But rejoice, dwarf, for the mana of an Ancient Fire Dragon such as myself is more than enough to turn you into a fierce warrior comparable to your father. This mana, along with the throne, is your reward for winning the trial.”

Prince Hafnir finally couldn’t take it. He clutched his chest, huffed, and fell on his knees. His vision blurred as the dragon continued looking at him with an indifferent gaze.

Eventually, Prince Hafnir fell unconscious on the ground.

The Ancient Fire Dragon Vulcan said, “How unsightly. Lerenon.”

“Yes, Great Guardian Deity.”

“Take him away.”

“Yes!”

King Lerenon issued out commands to the warriors guarding the throne room. Carefully, they took the unconscious Prince Hafnir away and left the throne room.

Vulcan said, “Lerenon, I have a task for you. The corpses gathered by the second and fourth prince. I want you to send all of them to the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas.” He paused, then added, “The corpse of the Black Puppeteer too. Carefully preserve it and make sure it reaches King Lark in a perfect state.”

A peculiar order.

For a moment, King Lerenon wondered if the princes underwent this trial just for the sake of gifting these corpses to the Kingdom of Lukas.

This couldn’t be right?

King Lerenon shook such thoughts from his mind. Now that he’d thought of it, the thought of the Ancient Fire Dragon working for the sake of a mere human was absurd, preposterous. There was no way such a thing was feasible. Dragons were the most powerful and prideful creatures, after all.

“It shall be done, Great Guardian Deity!” said King Lerenon. “Should I send them the other corpses gathered by the first prince as well?”

“No, just the Black Puppeteer,” said Vulcan. “Most of the corpses gathered by the first prince are useless. King Lark will have no need for them.”

The Black Puppeteer, the ruler of the Death Cavern, was a rare monster capable of necromancy. Almost all of the creatures in the Death Cavern were undead. Therefore, they wouldn’t be useful for the Essence Animation Spell. This was the reason the second prince won, despite the first prince garnering far greater achievements. At the end of the day, the dragon had orchestrated this trial for the sake of gathering corpses for King Lark. No matter how powerful the monster was, if the corpses weren’t usable, they were nothing but garbage in Vulcan’s eyes.

Vulcan rested his chin on the back of his hand. He fell silent for a moment. “Iron ingots, mithril ores, and several dozen dwarven blacksmiths capable of working on mithril. Send all of them to the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas as well. Remember. All of you must be respectful to King Lark, no matter what.”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 17

Count Steven Boris was often called the ‘Beloved Fool’ by other nobles. As a ruler who truly loved his subjects, he often overlooked the transgressions of his vassals, even going as far as pardoning cases of corruption within his government.

Although people said that he was nothing but an injudicious ruler, his three sons knew that Daxton City wouldn’t have grown to what it was today without the count’s guidance.

Despite his shortcomings, Count Boris did everything in his power to transform the small city near the Forbidden Region into one of the major cities of the kingdom. During his younger years, the count even went on dozens of expeditions to the Forbidden Region. He spearheaded the creation of a detailed map of the territory, marking the dangerous regions infested with monsters. He also led the soldiers in clearing the monsters roaming near Daxton City, paving the way to a monster-free border and outskirts.

That’s all in the past now, thought Count Boris.

Currently, he was lying on his bed, in his room in their estate in Daxton City. It had already been a year since he became completely bedridden. The poison, from his numerous expeditions to the Forbidden Region in his younger years, could no longer be suppressed by medicine.

Count Boris’ muscular body had become skeletal, and his auburn hair had turned white. Black marks, resembling veins, crawled through his skin, covering most of his body.

“Marianne,” said Count Boris. “Are you there?”

After his senses dulled, the count also started losing his eyesight. The healers said it was no longer feasible to halt the progression of the poison with medicine alone. According to them, the count only had a year left to live at most.

“Yes, Master,” said Marianne, Count Boris’ most-trusted maid. “I’m here.”

“Water,” said Count Boris.

Carefully, the maid pulled the count’s body up and assisted him in sipping water. She also gave him painkillers and several other medicines. These medicines were foul-tasting, most of them bitter, but the count, who was also starting to lose his sense of taste, thought they were no different from water. This was probably the only saving grace after he’d started losing his five senses.

“Haaa,” said Count Boris. “I’m sorry, Marianne. To think that your master’s last moments would be like this. How… pathetic.”

Those words filled with mockery pierced Marianne’s chest. As one of the vassals who’d been serving the master the longest, she knew how much effort Count Boris had made to make sure the citizens of Daxton lived in peace despite being located next to the Forbidden Region. Although he was flawed, he was a master who truly loved his people. It really pained her to see him in this state—helpless, hopeless, just waiting for death to loom closer.

“Tell me. How are my sons?” said Count Boris.

Marianne started reporting everything she knew regarding the count’s sons and the current events in the kingdom.

After the count had fallen ill, Arzen Boris took over his role and started governing Daxton City and the three towns adjacent. Quickly, he uprooted the corrupt officials within the local government and publicly executed them. Furthermore, he also started pouring funds into the three towns near Daxton City. He started mobilizing his people to cultivate the lands in that territory, planning to turn it into an agricultural region in the near future.

Aris, on the other hand, had been officially chosen as the High Priest of the Water Temple.

Finally, Mokuva. With the weakest constitution among the three brothers, he remained cooped up in the library most of the time. He would frequently find himself lost in his books from day to midnight.

Marianne also informed the bedridden count that a new king had ascended the throne.

“Lord Arzen and Young Master Mokuva were summoned by the crown for the coronation ceremony,” said Marianne. “Considering the distance between here and the capital, they should be back soon to fulfill their duties.”

“Is that so?” said Count Boris. He smiled.

His sons had grown splendidly.

Mokuva had long surpassed him in all fields of knowledge—theocracy, arithmetic, geography, agriculture, finance, arts, history, and even ethics. Arzen had long surpassed him in his ability to govern the territory and its people. Aris, on the other hand, had reached a really high standing on the temple. Even if he died now, Count Boris had no regrets.

“Now, if only one of them could give me a grandchild before I die.” Count Boris chuckled weakly. “It would be a perfect ending for this old man.”

“Please don’t say such things,” said Marianne.

Count Boris laughed. “Come on now. We both know that this body has long reached its limit. There’s no need to dwell on things outside our control, is there?”

Marianne sighed. “Young Master Aris would cry if he heard those words. You know that he entered the temple just to find a cure for the poison.”

The reason Aris Boris had been so insistent in becoming a High Priest of the Water Temple was related to the poison eating away at his father. For years, Aris strived to reach the top of the ladder, going as far as aiming for the position of a High Priest. According to their intel, the Water Temple held rare and powerful elixirs capable of curing almost all poisons and curses. They’d heard that this was the same elixir used by the Royal Court Magician, Lady Ropianna, to halt the progression of King Alvis’ curse. Unfortunately, these elixirs were given only to the high-ranking members of the Water God’s Temple.

“That fool,” said Count Boris. “I told him to live his life the way he wants. I told him to stop worrying about this old man.”

Count Boris’ chest tightened. He coughed, making blood and spit fly about. Had he been able to move his limbs, he would have been writhing in pain by now.

“Master!”

Marianne hurriedly wiped the blood off the count’s lips.

“The medicine! I’ll get the medicine!”

“It’s fine,” said Count Boris in a weak, gasping voice. “They no longer work on this dying body anyway. Just help me change into clean clothes, will you?”

Tears started forming in the corner of Marianne’s eyes. She nodded. “Of course.”

After Count Boris changed into clean clothes, the door opened and a man barged inside the room.

“Father!” shouted Mokuva, huffing. Judging by the beads of sweat on his face, he must have run all the way here.

Both Marianne and the count were surprised to see him. He wasn’t supposed to return for another three days.

From his bag, Mokuva took out a small chest and opened it, revealing a vial. He grabbed the vial and knelt next to the count’s bed.

“Father! I finally found it!” said Mokuva fervently. “The cure for the poison! We can finally cure you!”

Marianne looked at the vial in Mokuva’s hands. Golden liquid sloshed inside the vial which was small enough for a child’s hand to wrap around. Although Marianne didn’t know what it was, it looked incredibly precious.

“Father,” said Mokuva excitedly. “You’ve heard the rumors of the so-called middle-grade potion being sold on the black market, right?”

Count Boris and Marianne’s eyes widened.

Indeed, rumors regarding the potion had even reached their county. According to the rumors circulating within the nobility, the middle-grade potion was so potent that it could even heal a man on the verge of death.

They’d tried using all means to acquire even a single vial of the potion, but to no avail. It was so rare that it was nearly impossible to acquire even if you offered massive amounts of wealth.

“D-Don’t tell me,” said Count Boris, his voice quavering. “T-This… this is that potion?”

Mokuva smiled. “I believe so, Father. Although King Lark didn’t tell me the name of this potion, he told me that it’s capable of bringing someone back into full health. A potion capable of curing all sorts of illnesses, as long as the patient is alive.”

It sounded too good to be true, but rumors regarding the existence of such potion had already spread throughout the kingdom. Moreover, these words came from the king himself.

With trembling hands, Mokuva opened the vial, producing a small popping sound. Unlike the dozens of medicines Count Boris had tried throughout the years, this didn’t have any distinct smell. There was no horrible scent, no fragrance.

For a moment, they wondered if this potion was the real thing.

“Here, Father,” said Mokuva.

Carefully, he administered the potion. The golden liquid slowly dripped down the vial, flowed through the count’s lips, and down his throat.

The first few seconds felt like an eternity. To everyone’s amazement, the potion was unbelievably potent. At a pace visible to the human eye, the dark veins covering the count’s body receded. His ashen hair regained its vibrant auburn color, and his skeletal limbs regained their lost muscle. Color returned to his pallid skin. Indescribable strength started surging within him—like he could lift, toss, and crush boulders with just his bare fists. Moreover, colors returned to his world as he regained his lost eyesight.

“H-How do you feel, Father?” Mokuva finally asked.

Still stunned from the sudden turn of events, it took the count several seconds to utter a response. He mumbled, “It’s… incredible. The last time I felt like this was when I first entered the military academy. Words can’t fully describe this feeling!”

The count jumped from the bed and started stretching his body. Seeing him move so nimbly, the image of the dying count lying on the bed just moments ago seemed like a dream, a fleeting nightmare.

The potion was nothing short of a miracle.

Witnessing how potent it was, everyone in the room immediately understood how precious it was. This was not something money could buy. The potion was so great that Mokuva wouldn’t be surprised if the Great Empire waged war against the Kingdom of Lukas the moment they got wind of its existence.

Once again, Mokuva recalled King Lark’s words. The new king assured him that the potion would work, that as long as the recipient wasn’t dead, it would be capable of bringing him back to full health.

Mokuva slowly stood. He clenched his fists, and after steeling his resolve, he said, “I’m going back, Father.”

Count Boris stopped stretching his now healthy body. He noticed the resolve within Mokuva’s eyes. Wordlessly, he waited for Mokuva to continue.

“I promised His Majesty,” said Mokuva. “I promised that the moment father was cured of the disease, I’d immediately head back to the capital and serve him.”

Although Mokuva had the weakest constitution among the three brothers, he was the most stubborn. Now he’d made up his mind, Count Boris knew there was no way to convince him otherwise.

“How long will you be gone?” said Count Boris.

Honestly, the count wanted to hold a celebratory feast for this miracle. But it would feel empty without this son of his.

“I don’t know, Father,” said Mokuva. “It might take a year, maybe a decade. I plan on serving King Lark until I’m no longer needed. At the very least, I want to pay back this debt.”

It seemed his son would be gone for a long time. Count Boris suppressed a frown from forming on his face. He felt as though Mokuva had exchanged his time for his.

“Come here,” said Count Boris. He moved closer and hugged his son tightly. “No matter what happens, this is a home you can return to. Remember that.”

It had been quite a long time since Mokuva felt the strong embrace of his father. He slowly bobbed his head. “Yes.”

“Before you go, stop by the treasury,” said Count Boris. “Don’t worry about anything and take as much money as you want with you. Despite how I look, I’m still the wealthiest noble in the Southwestern Territory.”

***

After parting ways with the count who’d just recovered, Mokuva made a small detour to the Town of Alia—one of the three towns adjacent to Daxton City. Where the Three Sisters Orphanage, the place the former captain of the royal knights was currently staying, was. Mokuva believed that his older brother, Arzen Boris, would still be here by the time he arrived.

And he was right.

“I knew you’d be coming, so I waited,” said Arzen the moment Mokuva arrived at the orphanage’s gate.

Standing beside Arzen was a tall man wearing commoners’ clothes. As one of the famous warriors in the kingdom, Mokuva immediately recognized him as Symon, the former captain of the royal knights. The only son and disciple of Sword Saint Marozzo.

Mokuva’s eyes moved to the captain’s arms. He felt shivers crawl down his spine seeing both of them intact.

It was terrifying that the potion King Lark gave them was even capable of recovering lost limbs. It was nothing short of a divine potion.

“I see you’ve already given the captain the potion,” said Mokuva.

“Isn’t that a given?” said Arzen. “Little brother, how’s Father?”

Although Arzen seldomly showed affection to their father, Mokuva knew he cared about him as much as he did.

“He’s fully recovered,” said Mokuva.

A small smile formed on Arzen’s lip. “Is that so? That’s good to hear. Now that I’ve rooted out all the corrupt officials within Daxton City, even if that naïve father of ours returns to his position, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Mokuva quickly understood.

“T-Then… you’re?” said Mokuva.

“I’m coming with you,” said Arzen. He looked at the man standing next to him. “No, to be precise—we are coming with you to the capital.”

The tall man standing next to Arzen took those words as his cue.

Captain Symon placed a hand on his chest and lightly bowed his head. “This humble soldier greets Lord Mokuva. I am Symon Marozzo. I am pleased to make acquaintance with the younger brother of my benefactor.”

Mokuva felt uncomfortable seeing the captain acting this polite to him. As a man well-versed in military tactics, he knew of how strong Captain Symon was. Before he lost his arm, this man easily ranked among the ten strongest people in the kingdom.

After losing nearly all of his men, along with his arm, Captain Symon resigned from his position as captain of the royal knights. The title no longer held any meaning to him, now most of the royal knights had been killed in the expedition.

Now, Symon was living his life here in the orphanage, helping with various mundane tasks like cooking, weeding, and taking care of the children. Every now and then, he would provide sword guidance to Arzen Boris. The former captain of the royal knights had planned to pass down the swordsmandship of his father to Arzen and live the rest of his life living here, atoning for his mistakes—

Until this opportunity came.

“For a man who ran away from reality after losing his comrades, it sounds shameful to say this but,” said Symon, “please allow me to accompany you and Lord Arzen to the capital.”

Mokuva felt conflicted. Looking at Arzen, he realized that he felt the same. The two of them were no fools. After putting the pieces of the puzzle together—the news, the rumors—they came to the conclusion that the seven-headed monster that nearly annihilated the royal knights was the same monster currently serving King Lark. A lot of witnesses had reported how the monster looked after seeing it on the capital and the Marcus Duchy. All evidence pointed to the fact that the two creatures were one and the same.

They didn’t know how the captain would react if he came to know this fact.

“Captain,” said Mokuva, clearly hesitant. “Before that… I believe you need to be aware… regarding the monster you encountered in the Forbidden Region—”

“It’s the same creature the new king has tamed,” said Captain Symon. Arzen and Mokuva’s eyes widened. “I know.”

“T-Then—” said Mokuva.

“We are soldiers, Lord Mokuva,” said Symon. “Knights who vowed to protect the kingdom. Although it’s pathetic that a person who ran away from his responsibilities is saying this, I believe that none of my deceased comrades would blame King Lark for what happened. We were the ones who entered that creature’s territory, not the other way around. Even I, who lost an arm, am aware of that.”

There were several seconds of silence.

Even Arzen, who was closest to Symon, was surprised that the captain thought of things this way.

“Although I would be lying if I said I don’t have any thoughts of revenge,” said Captain Symon. “But worry not. Hatred is heavy, it’s useless. I vow to bury it and serve King Lark, my benefactor, with all my heart. It is only thanks to him that I can finally return to the battlefield.”

Captain Symon was truly a man of great character.

If it were them, would they be able to think and act like this? Would they be able to arrive at such a conclusion?

Even Mokuva, the most rational among the brothers, wasn’t sure. Despite what the captain was saying, he knew it wasn’t easy to let such heavy grudges go.

Mokuva breathed in deeply and calmed his mind. He said to Arzen, “Brother, how about you? What do you plan to do?”

Arzen spat, “Didn’t I tell you already? I’m coming with you to the capital.”

Arzen grabbed the leather bag sitting on the ground. Using his thumb, he pointed at the horses tied to the tree nearby. “Honestly, it’s frustrating that that Marcus brat ended up becoming king. And now, I’m going to end up serving him.”

Mokuva frowned. He looked around, in case anyone heard those blasphemous words.

“But I know a competent ruler when I see one,” said Arzen. “That bra— no, King Lark—he gave out such precious elixirs without batting an eye. He also managed to tame that seven-headed monster, and that spell he performed at the capital during the coronation ceremony far surpassed the spells of royal court magicians.”

Arzen looked up and sighed. “It pains me to say this, but I’d be a fool if I let go of this opportunity. Listen, little brother. It’s better to be the tail of a basilisk than become the head of a viper. It’s better to be the direct vassal of that king rather than the ruler of Daxton City.”

Mokuva realized that Arzen must have thought of this a lot in the past, but was simply too proud to bring such an offer to King Lark. Fortunately, this incident was the perfect excuse to finally come under the wings of that monarch.

After that exchange, for weeks, the three rode their mounts all the way to the capital.

By the time they arrived, a commotion was occurring at the capital’s outskirts, where the barrier was located.

Hundreds of metallic carts pulled by large horses lined up on the main road. Over a hundred dwarves, mainly dwarven blacksmiths and engineers, along with their escort warriors, were there, waiting.

But the dwarves weren’t the ones who stunned the three of them the most.

It was the corpses.

Thousands of monster corpses were piled on top of the metallic carts, forming small mountains. Each of them looked grotesque, and the humans who saw them knew a single one was capable of slaughtering dozens of their soldiers.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 18

“It’s been a while since we’ve taken a stroll like this in the garden,” said the former King Alvis.

Together with Lark, King Alvis walked through the royal garden. Now that winter was looming, the plants had already shed their older flowers and leaves, as they prepared for dormancy.

“When they’re in full bloom,” said King Alvis as he looked at the plants in the royal garden, “or even when their petals have fallen off—these precious children of mine are still beautiful.”

“Indeed, they are, Your Majesty,” said Lark.

After Lark ascended the throne, King Alvis made sure the royal faction would fully support him. He even went as far as retiring inside his room, only coming out to tend to the flowers in the royal garden every now and then. He sometimes attended to some tasks that required the presence of royalty, but aside from those, he chose to hand all authority to the new king. King Alvis knew it would be easier for Lark to rule the government officials and the nobles if he disappeared from the background completely. After all, there was no need for two rulers in this nation.

“It feels like the war with the empire was just yesterday,” said King Alvis. “This pile of old bones can still vividly remember that day when we deliberated who we should choose to lead the Coalition Army.”

Lark remembered too. He received the title ‘Commander of the Third Army’ in this very same garden.

Almost two years had passed since then. Fortunately, the blow the empire suffered from that defeat had rendered them unable to rally their armies to wage war with the Kingdom of Lukas once again.

Lark hoped to maintain this status quo. After all, it would be hard to fight against not only the demons, but also an adjacent human nation.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to come up with the idea of mana bombs,” said King Alvis. “Some of our engineers had tried creating something similar over a decade ago, but to no avail.” He chuckled. “Imagine my surprise when a young lad came up with the idea, even a working blueprint. As expected of the man who defeated the United Grakas Alliance with just a thousand men.”

King Alvis grabbed a watering can, and looked at Lark through the corner of his eye. “Or should I say, as expected of the legendary magician from the Era of Magic?”

Lark smiled.

He found it pleasant that there was no longer fear in King Alvis’ voice. Back then, although he’d tried his best to hide it, Lark felt the fear and anxiety within King Alvis’ voice whenever he talked to him. But now, all that remained was anticipation and curiosity.

“You give me too much credit, Your Majesty,” said Lark.

King Alvis laughed. “Is that so? Even Emperor Sylvius Lockhart Mavis would need to bow his head to you, should he learn of your real identity. But here you are, treating this old man as an equal.”

After watering the plants before him, King Alvis placed down the watering can, then took two slender keys from his pocket. He handed them to Lark.

“You must be familiar with these,” said King Alvis.

“The keys to the royal sanctum,” said Lark, immediately recognizing them.

“They’re yours now, along with all the treasures the royal family has accumulated over the centuries,” said King Alvis.

Lark fell silent. There were several items in that treasure room that interested him. In particular, the sword called Darkmoon—one of the four named swords of the kingdom—could easily rival some of the swords he’d used in his previous life. Like the sword he’d given Anandra, Darkmoon was made of adamantite.

“I can’t take this, Your Majesty,” said Lark. “We already agreed—I’m only a temporary king. A regent.”

“I know,” said King Alvis. “I’ve pondered on this for several days before arriving at this conclusion. You told us before that a war capable of turning the continent upside-down will soon fall upon us. What use will all those treasures be, if the demons end up annihilating us humans? They may be useless to me, but it’s an entirely different story if they end up in capable hands.”

Seeing that Lark was still undecided, King Alvis decided to land the finishing blow. “With those keys, you would no longer need to ask for permission to enter the royal sanctum, like last week, when you altered the conditions of the portal. You can come and go as you wish, King Lark.”

Lark closed his hand holding the keys. He said, “I’ll use them well.”

Although he still had a lot of treasures left in the golden statue, it wouldn’t hurt to have more. And it would be convenient if he could come and go as he wished in the royal sanctum—where the barrier’s medium was being kept.

“Your Majesty,” one of the guards assigned to escort Lark spoke to him. “I have a report from the leader of the patrol, Commander Danack.”

“What is it?” said Lark.

The guard hesitated for a moment. “Dwarves, Your Majesty. Over a hundred dwarves have just arrived at the capital outskirts.”

King Alvis’s eyes widened. Observing Lark’s expression as the soldier made the report, the former king realized that Lark had already anticipated this.

“Just about time,” said Lark. “Did they bring the corpses with them?”

The guard seemed taken aback. His expression seemed to ask ‘how did you know?’

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the guard. “Based on the report of the patrol, the dwarves brought several thousand monster corpses with them.” The guard paused then carefully added, “Your Majesty… the monster corpses… I believe the citizens are uneasy.”

“I am aware,” said Lark. It was the natural reaction when thousands of monster corpses were suddenly brought to their doorstep—by dwarves at that. “The underground chamber of the castle’s third tower is massive. They can store the corpses there. If they need help preserving the corpses, contact Kel’ Vual. He’ll know what to do with them.”

The large men who resembled the members of the Marcus Family had been frequently seen in the castle ever since Lark ascended the throne. According to rumor, these men were comparable in strength to royal court magicians and served as King Lark’s secret guards. Of course, this was all speculation, and people had no way of verifying the truth. Still, it was apparent that Kel’ Vual and his men were gaining fame as days went by.

“As for the dwarves,” said Lark. “I will meet them in the throne room, two hours from now.”

Normally, it would take days before someone was given an audience with royalty. But Lark deemed it inappropriate to make the dwarves wait that long, when they’d traveled all the way from the dwarven mountain range. Furthermore, there was the issue of how long they could keep preserving the corpses.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

After the guard left, silence fell between King Alvis and Lark.

King Alvis wisely said, “So, this is why you asked permission to alter the entry conditions of the portal a week ago. Did you already foresee this happening?”

“Yes. I’ve known that the dwarves would be coming for quite some time now,” said Lark.

“Haaa.” King Alvis sighed. He shook his head. “At this point, there’s no longer anything that would surprise me.”

King Alvis covered his mouth with his fist. He cleared his throat and made a fake cough. “So, any change of heart? How about marrying my daughter, Esmeralda?”

***

After meeting with King Alvis, Lark went to the throne room and summoned the dwarves who’d just arrived at the capital.

The leader of the group was a dwarf who reminded Lark of a mole-rat. The top of his head was bald, with sparse stubble running along the side of his stubby face. His nose was remarkably long, and his teeth were missing, save for the two at the very front. Unlike most dwarves, he did not sport a beard or a mustache.

The dwarves did not kneel. They simply placed a hand on their chests and bowed their heads in respect.

“We are honored to be in the presence of the human king, His Royal Majesty, King Lark Marcus,” said the dwarf. His etiquette was impeccable. Despite his rough appearance, his body moved elegantly as he introduced himself and his comrades. “I am Ninirukiriri. I frequently hear that my name sounds quite… complex to the tongue, so please just call me Nini. The leader of this group. Chief engineer of the Third Weapons Factory. We came here under the command of His Majesty, Dwarven King Lerenon.”

It was a very odd name, even for a dwarf. Lark decided to keep this thought to himself. If what the dragon told him was correct, Nini was among the greatest minds in the dwarven kingdom. He was among the dwarven engineers who paved the road in artifact creation and even spell formations.

Lark heard that some of the traps in the Lair where the dragons lived were created by this bald dwarf.

Lark smiled. “Welcome to the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas.”

It was unexpected—although the human king’s voice did not sound deep, it emanated indescribable authority. For a moment, they were reminded of King Lerenon ‘Blood Mithril’ Rugard in his younger years.

“It pleases me that His Majesty, King Lerenon, has sent such remarkable dwarves to my kingdom,” said Lark.

“Oh no, the pleasure is ours, Your Majesty,” Nini clearly had a glib tongue. He spared no effort in pleasantries and flattery. “We heard that your kingdom is in need of monster corpses. So, please accept this gift as our token of gratitude.”

Taking that as the cue, the dwarven escorts at the back moved and gently placed a four-meter large metallic container in front of Nini.

“The corpse of one of the strongest monsters in the entire dwarven mountain range!” said Nini in a heated voice. “The corpse of the ruler of the Death Cavern—The Black Puppeteer!”

The moment the dwarves opened the metallic container, chilling air seeped out and swept through the throne room. Slowly, the frozen and perfectly preserved body of the Black Puppeteer was revealed before everyone. A large creature that resembled a ghoul, with two circular horns jutting out of its head, a hairy tail, three eyes, and a large serrated mouth.

It was a monster Lark recognized.

A nightwalker.

A fully grown adult at that.

Even back in the Magic Empire, they were considered powerful monsters. Back when Evander Alaester was still young, he’d received a mission as a member of the Black Mages to annihilate a group of nightwalkers in a ruined city. It was a memorable mission to the young Evander, since it was the first time he’d brushed so close to death in a battle.

The nightwalkers were already strong individually, but when banded together, they were an incredible force to reckon with. They were creatures capable not only of necromancy, but also spells of the highest tiers. Furthermore, brute strength aside, nightwalkers were intelligent creatures who frequently hid inside the deepest parts of the mazes they built themselves, hiding behind the undead army they raised from the grave.

This nightwalker was probably stronger than the two basilisks they’d encountered before, combined.

“A nightwalker,” said Lark.

Nini was surprised hearing that word come out of the human king’s mouth. There were only a few people within the dwarven kingdom who were aware of what kind of creature the so-called Black Puppeteer really was.

“Indeed,” said Nini. A gleam of curiosity flashed within his eyes.

The dwarven engineer wanted to ask Lark how he learned of this, but his intuition told him not to delve too deep into this topic.

“How did you kill it?” said Lark.

To kill a single nightwalker, one would need to enter its territory filled with traps and powerful undead monsters.

“Even I don’t know of the exact details, but I heard that His Highness, First Prince Margaro, rallied his army and went inside the Death Cavern himself,” said Nini. “The Margaro Army, who’d been pushing themselves to the limit in training every day, did not rely on petty tricks. With pure brute strength alone, they massacred the monsters of the Death Cavern.”

“I hope you don’t rebuke me for saying this,” added Nini, “but it’s truly a shame that the first prince wasn’t the chosen winner in the dragon’s trial. The difference in strength between him and the crown prince is simply worlds apart.”

Nini was quite daring, spouting such slanderous words before everyone. Looking at the other dwarves in the throne room, Lark realized that most of them felt the same way. They, too, found it a pity that the first prince wasn’t chosen as the crown prince.

Lark heard from the Fire Dragon Vulcan that he chose the winner based on merit alone—he chose them by the number of ‘useful’ corpses they’d procured within the time period.

“I’m sure the dragon has his reasons,” said Lark. He had no intentions on pressing the matter any further. He already had his hands full dealing with issues in this kingdom.

“Of course,” said Nini. “The Great Guardian Deity must have his reasons. His word is law. Mere dwarves like us just need to follow.”

Nini took two steps back, bowed his upper body, and spread his arms wide. “It would be too rude—an insult to His Majesty—if we came here presenting only corpses as gifts.”

Several dwarves stepped forward and placed three large chests at the foot of the throne. Slowly, they opened them, revealing the silver-black metal ores inside.

“As such, we’ve come to present you another gift!” said Nini. He closed his arms and clasped his hands as though in prayer. “Mithril ores! And not only that! These dwarves behind me are among the best blacksmiths and craftsmen in our kingdom! Please feel free to use them as you see fit, King Lark!”

Lark carefully observed the gifts and the dwarves standing behind Nini. Some, if not most, of them were probably forced to come here. But since the words of the king and the dragon were the law, they had no choice but to accept their duty.

If he wanted to utilize their talents to the fullest, Lark knew he had to address their grievances sooner or later. But for now, as the first step, he planned on giving them the best treatment possible during their stay in the capital.

“I must relay my gratitude to King Lerenon for presenting me not only these gifts, but also craftsmen and blacksmiths capable of handling them,” said Lark. “We’ve prepared a suitable estate in the Middle District of the capital. It comes with a large smithy, a workshop, and several servants. I believe it’s large enough to accommodate everyone. As for the corpses, we can store them in the third tower of this castle.”

“Lakian,” said Lark to the Grand Chamberlain.

“Your Majesty.”

“You will personally guide our esteemed guests to their place of residence,” said Lark. “Make sure they’re as comfortable as possible.”

“As you wish.”

Lark looked at all the dwarves in the throne room. “If you have anything you need, just inform the head servant in the estate, and he’ll be sure to relay it to Lakian here. I hope you enjoy your stay in the capital.”

***

After meeting with the dwarves, Lark called for Anandra in the throne room.

“You called for me, Master?” said Anandra.

“How’s your training?” said Lark.

Anandra replied in his usual stoic voice, “I’ve learned how to coat my weapons with mana. But other than that, my training has been unremarkable thus far.”

A mischievous smile formed on Lark’s face. “Is that so? But there’s this rumor I’ve been hearing, you see.”

Anandra said quizzically, “Rumor?”

“I heard that you and the new secretary have been getting along quite well lately,” said Lark, grinning.

A flustered look formed on Anandra’s face, but he managed to hide it quickly. He said unhappily, “I simply gave the secretary a place to rest during her break. There’s no deeper meaning to it, Master.”

Lark leaned back on the throne. “What a boring man. Irene would feel embarrassed if she heard those words.” He sighed. “Anyway, I called you here for an important matter. Do you remember what I promised you before?”

“That you’d teach me the Seven Gates,” said Anandra.

“That’s right.” Lark nodded. “But before that, I need to test if you’re qualified for it. It’s a technique that could easily kill you, when performed in the wrong manner. Fortunately, I’ve found a potential sparring partner for you that may be your match.”

Lark said to the Grand Chamberlain, “Call them in.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

After Lark had given his permission, Arzen, Mokuva, and Captain Symon were finally granted audience with him. The three entered the throne room and knelt before Lark.

“We greet His Majesty, King Lark!” the three said in unison.

“You may rise,” said Lark. “Raise your heads. Seeing that the famous captain of the royal knights is here,” he looked at the arms of the captain, “it’s apparent that the potion worked quite well.”

“The words ‘quite well’ are an understatement, Your Majesty,” said Mokuva. “Not only did the potion manage to restore the missing arm of the captain, it also brought my father back into full health. For that, I am truly grateful.”

Unlike before, there was now reverence within Mokuva’s voice.

“As promised, I returned the moment my father was healed. All so I could serve His Majesty with every fiber of my being,” said Mokuva.

Lark was glad to hear this. These past few weeks, he hardly had the time to train his body and expand his mana pool. The mountains of work ate away even some of his personal time.

But with the addition of Mokuva to their workforce, Lark’s workload would be lessened somewhat.

“There’s a mountain of work to do,” said Lark. “I expect great things from you.”

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint His Majesty.” Mokuva bowed his head.

The captain was the next to speak.

Captain Symon saluted. “Symon Marozzo, former captain of the royal knights. I’ve heard from Lord Arzen that the potion was given to him by His Majesty! Words can’t describe how grateful I am! Please give this soldier a chance to serve you, King Lark!”

The way the captain spoke reminded Lark of the first time he’d met Anandra. In terms of character, they were like two peas in a pod. Straightlaced people who wouldn’t budge even when faced with difficult trials.

“What happened to the royal knights in the Forbidden Region was quite unfortunate,” said Lark. “And I feel partly responsible, especially now that the beast who killed your comrades has become my tamed creature.”

“It is not His Majesty’s fault,” said Captain Symon. He meant it. “No one, not even my dead comrades, would pin the blame on a king who’s just ascended the throne.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” said Lark. “I’ll find a suitable arrangement for you later on. Rest assured, you’ll be given a similar position.”

“I am grateful, Your Majesty,” said Captain Symon.

Lark’s gaze moved to the last person remaining. “Arzen Boris.”

“Your Majesty,” said Arzen.

“Have you arrived at a decision?”

As before, there was a commanding air surrounding Lark despite his young age. Yet, at the same time, he wasn’t too domineering. It did not feel like he was forcing them to work for him. They knew that it was an offer they could refuse without any repercussions.

Arzen closed his eyes for a few seconds, as though pondering if this really was the right decision. Finally, he said, “Yes.” He added with conviction, “Please allow me to become your right-hand man, Your Majesty.”

Become his right-hand man.

Such ambition. Lark laughed. The man hadn’t changed in the slightest. He still dreamed of greater heights, and he did not even cower when he asked for the highest position among Lark’s vassals.

“We’ll have to see first if you’re deserving of that position,” said Lark, amused.

“I’ll prove my worth,” said Arzen, cupping his hands together. “Your Majesty, we saw the dwarves outside and the corpses they brought with them.”

“I see,” said Lark. “What of it?”

“Is His Majesty perhaps planning to use those corpses as a material to make weapons or equipment?” said Arzen.

Lark planted his elbow on the armrest and rested his chin on the back of his hand. He pondered for several seconds. “Now that we’ve come this far, there’s probably no need to hide it from my vassals. Arzen, you’ve seen the living suits of armor I used during the war with the empire, right?”

Arzen remembered. Although he didn’t see them in action, he’d seen them walking around within the Third Army. Based on reports, those living suits of armor were strong enough to fight against the elite unit under the direct command of General Alvaran.

“Yes. I remember,” said Arzen.

“You are not wrong with the assumption that the corpses will be used as a material,” said Lark. “But I don’t need their skin, I don’t need their fangs, their horns. What I need is the essence within the depths of their cores.”

Arzen looked at Mokuva and realized he wasn’t the only one who did not fully comprehend what the king was trying to imply.

“The living suits of armor used during the war with the empire were created using the essence of weak monsters,” explained Lark. “Some were even created using the essence of mere goblins, while most were created using the essence from the monsters of the Lake of the Full Moon.”

Arzen’s body quivered upon realizing the truth of the matter.

He’d seen the corpses outside the capital. There were thousands of them, and each looked strong and terrifying. If Lark were to create an army of living suits of armor out of those monsters, he would end up creating an unstoppable legion far more powerful than he had before. Just thinking about it gave Arzen the shivers.

With such a powerful army, even toppling the Great Empire would be feasible.

“T-The legion you mentioned before,” said Arzen, unable to hide his disbelief. “Are you going to create them using the corpses the dwarves brought with them?”

Lark nodded. “That’s correct.”

Arzen felt his neck going numb. Cold sweat flowed down his back.

He was going to lead that monstrous legion?

It was only at this moment that Arzen realized how incredible this offer was. He was glad that he’d accepted it. Compared to being the lord of a mere city, the power he would be able to wield once he was given command of this undying army would be several times greater—no, the two could not even be comparable.

“Captain Symon,” said Lark. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

Captain Symon said in a heartbeat, “Anything. Please tell me what I need to do, Your Majesty.”

“My disciple here,” Lark looked at Anandra who’d been standing quietly near the throne, “is in need of a sparring partner, you see.”

Captain Symon gazed at Anandra.

“I heard that the captain is the successor of the Marozzo Swordsmanship. The technique used by our kingdom’s Sword Saint Marozzo,” said Lark.

There were only two people who held the title of Sword Saint within the kingdom. And Captain Symon had inherited the technique of one of them. It was no wonder he managed to come out alive after encountering the Earth Scylla in the Forbidden Region.

“Just once, can you spar with him, Captain?”

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 19

Irene put down the document in her hand, raised her arms above her head, and stretched her upper body. Since morning, she’d been sitting in her office, sorting through all sorts of paperwork and documents. Although she’d gotten used to it by now, it was irrefutable that it was still a very tiring and stressful routine.

“Let’s take a break,” said Irene in a clear and loud voice.

The assistants in the room heaved a sigh of relief.

“Finally,” whispered one of them.

“It’s that time of the day, huh?” another assistant whispered back.

Every day, they looked forward to this time when the secretary would go out to the Training Hall exclusive to royal family members. They heard that she’d been meeting a man there—but that part didn’t matter. What mattered was during this break, the assistants could take a breather for an hour or two, away from the secretary’s constant scrutiny.

Irene stood, grabbed the basket filled with pastries she’d baked herself, and said, “We’ll resume auditing the ledgers of all temple donations once I return.”

“Yes, Lady Secretary.”

After casting one last look at her subordinates, Irene left the office. While walking, she glanced at the basket in her hand.

I didn’t ask him, but… he must like sweet things, right?

The image of the golden-haired man who she always watched train during her break started appearing in her mind. For a moment, she wondered if she was being too straightforward with this. She even went as far as baking these pastries for him.

“Pull yourself together,” she said to herself. “There’s no going back.”

With a determined gaze, she traversed the long hallways of the castle—her destination, the Training Hall, where Anandra honed his swordsmanship.

“Hey, isn’t that the new secretary?”

Along the way, Irene passed two familiar faces. Like Anandra, they were among King Lark’s disciples: George and Austen.

After the strife between the royal guards and the Blackstone Soldiers, the brothers became known as troublemakers. Irene heard that they used to be timid, well-disciplined boys before Lark ascended the throne. But now, they’d become cheeky brats who frequently pranked people. Fortunately, King Lark still made sure to rein in the two properly. He frequently dished out punishments for the brothers, even going as far as increasing the difficulty of their training whenever they committed mistakes.

“Hey, didn’t I tell you to stop pointing at people?” Austen said to George. Austen cast an apologetic glance at Irene.

George placed his hands behind his head. He grumbled, “We’re brothers. Stop acting like my father. And I’m hungry. It’s frustrating that we have to wait several more months before we can enter the royal kitchen again! Can you believe it? We went all the way there, and they still chased us out like we’re some sort of criminals! They kept talking about royal decree, royal order, His Majesty’s command, blah blah blah!”

Austen frowned. “Stop being a brat, George. If you keep this up, I’ll tell Master.”

That threat was more than enough to effectively shut George’s mouth.

After silence fell, Austen greeted Irene. “Good afternoon, Lady Irene,” said Austen. He placed a hand on his chest and lightly bowed his head in greeting. Seeing this, George followed suit and also greeted the secretary.

Irene smiled. “A pleasant afternoon, Young Masters.”

Austen gazed at Irene, particularly at the basket she was carrying. Judging by her direction, it seemed she was headed toward the Royal Training Hall.

“Are you going to visit the old man, Miss Secretary?” said Austen carefully.

“Old man?” Irene said quizzically. A second after, she realized who Austen was pertaining to. “Ah, you mean Young Master Anandra?”

“That’s right.” Austen nodded.

“B-But why are you calling him an old man?” said Irene.

“Because he is an old man,” said Austen with a straight face.

“Don’t be fooled by his looks, Lady Secretary,” added George in an unusually expressionless face. “He’s really old. Like… a gramps. If you understand what I mean.”

For a moment, Irene started doubting her knowledge. She’d heard Anandra was a few years younger than her.

“So, you’re visiting him?” said Austen.

Irene said in an awkward voice, “I’m… not visiting him. I’m just taking my break there, since it’s nice and quiet.”

“Of course,” said Austen in understanding. He knew those were simply excuses, but deemed there was no reason for him to point it out. “But I hate to say this, Lady Secretary. Even if you go there, you won’t be able to enter. The old man won’t be training there today.”

“He isn’t coming today? What do you mean?”

Austen and George looked at each other. They realized that the secretary, who’d been cooped up in her office the whole morning, hadn’t heard the news yet.

“You haven’t heard about the spar?” said George.

The two proceeded to explain that Captain Symon, the captain of the royal knights and the man who inherited the techniques of Sword Saint Marrozo, was going to spar with Anandra. It was a fairly big event, as the two were known to be incredibly powerful warriors. Even Irene, a non-combatant, had heard of the Sword Saint Marrozo and Captain Symon.

“It shouldn’t have started yet. If we go now, we should be able to make it on time,” said Austen. “The two of us are headed there ourselves.”

“I’d rather eat in the royal kitchen though,” murmured George.

Austen glared at George, then smiled at Irene. “How about it, Lady Irene? Want to come with us and watch the old man and the captain fight?”

Irene readily nodded. She gripped the handle of the basket in her hand tightly.

“Yes. Please take me with you.”

***

“It hasn’t started yet!” said Austen.

Irene, Austen, and George had arrived at the training grounds just in time.

Over a hundred spectators had gathered to watch the battle, and most of them were royal guards.

Looking around, they saw that Princess Esmeralda and her personal knights, Chryselle, and several Arzomos had come to watch the fight. Even Big Mona was here, along with Arzen and Mokuva.

Standing at the center of the large arena were three people—King Lark, Anandra, and Captain Symon.

“I think it’s starting,” said George. “We made it just in time.”

“Stop stating the obvious,” said Austen. “Listen. Although the old man is a demon whenever he trains us, he’s still our fellow disciple—our senior. We should at least show him our support during times like this.”

George nodded. “I know.” He raised his right arm and waved it several times. He shouted, “Go for it, old man! Do to him what you’ve been doing to us during training! Show your inner demon! Beat him up!”

Some of the royal guards, who knew the relationship between Anandra and the brothers, laughed. Even Cherry found it amusing.

Lark chuckled. He said to Anandra, “Hear that? The kids are cheering for you.”

Anandra gazed at the brothers, then at Lark.

“Shouting in the presence of the king… Should I discipline them after this fight, Master?” said Anandra.

“Don’t be too strict.” Lark smiled. “They’ve never been able to enjoy their childhood. Let them act their age. Let them act like the kids they are every now and then.”

“I understand,” said Anandra. “I’ll try to be lenient then.”

“And look over there,” said Lark.

Anandra followed Lark’s gaze and saw a woman with similar golden hair, worried-looking eyes, and sun-kissed skin. She was holding a basket in her hands as she nervously stood there, waiting for the fight to start.

“Even our dear secretary came all the way here to watch the battle,” said Lark in a teasing voice. “Do you want to exchange a word or two with her before the fight starts?”

Anandra averted his gaze. “No. There’s no need for such trivial things, Master.”

Lark laughed. “Is that so?” He turned to Captain Symon. “How about you, Captain?”

Captain Symon, who’d been silently standing nearby, spoke, “We can start anytime, Your Majesty.”

Lark decided to finally start the match. He amplified his voice with mana and spoke clear and loud.

“Now that the two participants for this battle are ready, we’re going to start the match,” said Lark.

The buzzing and murmurs in the training grounds died out at once.

“Give them their swords,” said Lark.

Two soldiers went inside the arena and handed Anandra and Captain Symon iron swords. Lark had decided on this arrangement, since using an adamantite sword against the captain would give Anandra too much advantage.

The iron swords were of the cheap kind—practice swords that were normally thrown away after forming even the slightest chips and cracks. This way, the two would be able to fully showcase their skills without relying on their weapons too much.

After the swords were handed out to the two fighters, Lark continued with his speech, “Although I call this a spar, I wish for these two warriors to fight with their lives on the line. Fight with the intention of killing your opponent.”

Clumps of mana gathered in front of Lark. They spun around, eventually forming two thumb-sized crystals. The crystals hovered in the air for several seconds, before moving toward Anandra and the captain.

The crystallized mana touched their bodies and sunk into their chests, disappearing from sight.

“It’s a protection spell,” said Lark, explaining to the two fighters and the spectators what the crystals were. “A shield capable of blocking life-threatening damage, so feel free to go all out and fight to your heart’s content.”

After spending years with Lark, Anandra had gotten used to these spells by now. Captain Symon, on the other hand, was astonished by Lark’s announcement.

There was no longer any fear of killing each other even if they dueled to their heart’s content. It was truly a miraculous spell.

“The rules are simple,” said Lark. “Break the protection spell of your opponent. The battle ends the moment one of you has their protection spell shattered, loses consciousness, or surrenders.”

Lark opened his arms wide. “So, fight without fear. Show us your skills.”

There was a pause. Lark said in a firm, loud voice, “Match, start!”

***

From a very young age, as the only son of Sword Saint Marozzo, great things were already expected of Captain Symon.

Even when he’d managed to achieve sword enlightenment at the age of nineteen, no one batted an eye and simply took this achievement as a given.

Even when he single-handedly cleared out the bandits living near their barony, even when he became the captain of the royal knights, he never once received words of praise from his father.

His father told him: ‘Listen, Symon. Simply being strong isn’t enough. As the man who will inherit the Marozzo Swordsmanship, you should be the strongest. How long are you going to stay as the mere captain of the royal knights? Look at Nickolai! After he became one of the Royal Court Magicians, he took in disciples and created a strong faction within the royal capital!’

It was disgusting.

Although his father was heralded as one of the two Sword Saints, Symon knew that his father never cared for anything but glory and power. Sword Saint Marozzo even treated his only son as nothing but a tool to pass on his techniques and legacy.

His father always reminded him that the sword of the Marozzo was capable of cutting through anything—that he should never lose to anyone, even if the opponent was a Royal Court Magician.

Captain Symon slowly unsheathed his sword and took a fighting stance. He gazed at the golden-haired man before him. If the rumors were correct, then the first disciple of His Majesty, King Lark, should be a formidable opponent.

After Lark left the arena and the signal to start the match was given, Captain Symon wasted no time and immediately shot toward his opponent.

Captain Symon could no longer hear the voices of the spectators, and the faces of those watching the battle became blurry as he faced his opponent with single-minded focus.

With the spell protecting their bodies, there was no need for them to hold back. Captain Symon planned on going all out and ending this fight quickly.

The fifth style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Flowing Flower.

One of the strongest techniques of the Marozzo Swordsmanship. The same technique he used to cut several legs off the arachnia they’d encountered in the labyrinth of the Forbidden Region.

Upon reaching Anandra, the sword Captain Symon raised above his head multiplied several times, forming nine blades that resembled a recently bloomed flower. He swung his sword, and the blades fell toward Anandra at the same time.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 20

Anandra watched calmly as the nine blades swung toward his head. Time seemed to slow down as he predicted each of their trajectories.

During this split second, he deemed that six out of the nine blades were feints. Only three were real, but they were incredibly destructive.

Anandra coated his iron sword with mana and, in a swift and fluid motion, dodged the first real blade by tilting his body to the right, deflected the second with a downward strike, and parried the third. The first and second blades, which missed their targets, struck the ground, creating a twenty-meter-long and two-meter-deep fissure in the arena.

It was an absurdly powerful attack capable of cutting a carriage, along with the horse pulling it, in half. Still, despite seeing his attack deflected by Anandra, Captain Symon didn’t lose focus and proceeded to dish out onslaughts, one after another.

The third style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Mana Vortex.

A second after ‘Flowing Flower’ struck the arena, Captain Marozzo quickly spun in place twice, creating a small vacuum of mana that sucked in his opponent, preventing him from moving for a full second—

He tried to.

To Captain Symon’s surprise, Anandra redirected all of the mana strengthening his body into his legs and leaped back, until he was out of range of the spell. Immediately after the mana vortex vanished, Anandra shot toward Captain Symon at a frightening speed. The moment he was within sword range with Captain Symon, Anandra redirected the mana from his legs toward the arm holding his sword and slashed at the captain.

Captain Symon jumped up, pulled his arm back, and the moment he landed, stabbed at Anandra several times. Anandra nimbly moved his head and body, evading each strike without any unnecessary movements.

What’s this? This doesn’t make sense, thought Captain Symon.

Based on how quickly Anandra managed to redirect the strengthening mana from one body part to another, it was apparent that he’d done this in battle several times before, even before this spar. It seemed absurd that he was so used to this technique, to the point that he was no longer suffering any recoil. He was so proficient in redirecting his body strengthening magic that he could even use it in real time in battle against someone like the captain.

Is he just enduring it?

Locking eyes with Anandra, Captain Symon inwardly shook his head.

No, those aren’t the eyes of someone who’s enduring their pain. This man… this technique is as simple as breathing to him. What a monster.

For the first time, Captain Symon realized why King Lark specifically requested he spar with his disciple. In order for Anandra to go all out, he needed an opponent who was his match.

Captain Symon grinned.

As the successor of Sword Saint Marozzo, it was only natural for him to be excited when he met a strong opponent.

Captain Symon strengthened his body with even more mana, pushing it to the utmost limit.

He couldn’t redirect the mana in his body in a heartbeat like that monster, but he was certain he had a larger mana pool than him. Although it would end up tearing up his bones and muscles, Captain Symon decided to overload his body with body-strengthening magic. Combined with the techniques ingrained in him by his father at a young age, Captain Symon was confident of overwhelming his opponent.

Immediately after pushing his body to its limits, Captain Symon’s stabs became faster, his slashes deadlier. His eyes predatory, he started performing Marozzo techniques one after another.

The first style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Twin Crescent Slash.

Two vertical strikes that nearly overlapped with each other shot toward Anandra. The golden-haired man redirected his mana to his feet and upper body, enabling him to quickly move to the left to dodge the first slash. He shifted his mana to his arm and swung his sword, parrying the second strike.

The second style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Spiral Pierce.

Mana spun around the tip of the captain’s sword. He pulled his arm back, along with a portion of his upper body, and made a single stab toward Anandra.

Anandra realized that despite being a stab, the radius of the attack was massive. Instead of deflecting it, he redirected all of the mana in his body toward his feet and moved to the far right, evading the attack entirely. The Spiral Pierce struck the arena and carved another large fissure on the ground, sending slabs of broken tiles and dust flying about.

Even after Anandra easily countered his techniques, Captain Symon didn’t stop. He immediately performed the next sequence of techniques of the Marozzo Swordsmanship.

Captain Symon was thrilled. He was exhilarated. How often could he find someone he could go all out in a fight with? For the first time in years, he could finally fight to his heart’s content, without fear of killing his opponent!

The third style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Mana Vortex.

The same vortex of mana from before attempted to suck in Anandra.

The fourth style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Sword Claw.

A massive claw, created using three sword strikes, destroyed a third of the arena.

The fifth style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Flowing Flower.

After encountering it before, Anandra easily deflected the attacks of Flowing Flower.

The sixth style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Eight Cardinal Strikes.

The sixth style was an onslaught of attacks that came from the eight cardinal directions simultaneously. Each was imbued with mana, and carved out deep marks on the ground whenever they missed their target and struck the arena.

Until now, Anandra had managed to block Captain Symon’s attacks using just the basic skills of the sword, honed to their utmost perfection. It left a bitter taste in the captain’s mouth when he thought of how the Marozzo Sword was broken by simple movements of the sword. It seemed that in the end, a firm foundation of the sword was all one truly needed, after all.

I can’t use it like my father yet, thought Captain Symon. But it should be possible to imitate it to a certain extent.

The seventh style of Marozzo Swordsmanship—Ethereal Sword.

A sword capable of cutting its opponent while ignoring the distance. The strongest technique of Sword Saint Marozzo.

Captain Symon had seen his father use this sword to cut the flesh underneath the armor of his opponents, ignoring their defenses completely. Once, he even saw his father cut a metallic giant lizard that appeared in their barony in one strike.

Captain Symon increased the distance between him and Anandra. Using both hands, he held his sword above his head. His gaze fixed on his opponent.

After firming his resolve, Captain Symon swung down his sword.

The world seemed to have slowed down as everyone witnessed the translucent sword coming from above, slashing toward Anandra. It completely ignored the twenty-meter distance between the two. Anandra quickly raised his sword to block the attack, but to his surprise, the translucent blade passed through his iron sword without any resistance.

It’s over, thought Captain Symon.

It was impossible to block this sword. The only way to survive the seventh style of Marozzo Swordsmanship was to evade the attack completely. Alas, it was too late to do that now.

Everyone expected the translucent sword to strike Anandra’s body, activating Lark’s protection spell in the process. But to their astonishment, an entirely different scenario occurred.

Anandra quickly redirected his mana to his legs, and moved back. At the same time, he redirected the mana to his arms and willed it to flow toward the tip of his sword.

M-Mana vortex?!

Captain Symon was stunned seeing a vortex of mana sucking in the ethereal sword, effectively halting it for a split second.

No… he modified the technique he saw me perform a while ago!

It wasn’t an imitation, but a modification. Anandra combined the second style, Spiral Pierce, with the third style, Mana Vortex, enabling him to create a vortex of mana capable of halting the ethereal sword without spinning his body.

Not only did he manage to copy the technique, he modified it, combined it, and applied it to battle in real time.

No longer in the realm of a simple genius, Captain Symon realized that his opponent would later on go down in history as one of the world’s greatest swordsmen.

After halting the ethereal sword, Anandra used this split-second opportunity to move to the side and completely evade the attack. Without stopping, Anandra raised his sword above his head. Captain Symon was horrified upon seeing that familiar stance.

“Sorry, but I’m borrowing the technique for a bit,” said Anandra.

He swung his sword, and a similar translucent blade that completely ignored the distance between them shot toward Captain Symon at a frightening speed. The captain instinctively raised his sword to block it, only to realize that this was a sword capable of ignoring the opponent’s defenses.

The ethereal sword went past his iron sword and struck the captain. A loud shattering sound was heard as the protection spell cast by Lark was broken.

Although Captain Symon didn’t suffer any damage thanks to the protection spell, the feat shown by Anandra was more than enough to render him weak and lifeless. He dropped his sword, and fell on his knees.

That… that sword.

The ethereal sword performed by Anandra was much more than similar to the sword of Sword Saint Marozzo. It was much more precise, faster, and more powerful than Captain Symon’s imitation.

Silence fell in the training ground.

No one could believe what they’d just witnessed.

King Lark’s disciple copied the Sword Saint’s technique after seeing it just once and used it to defeat the former captain of the Royal Knights.

VOLUME 9 CHAPTER 21

The silence continued in the training grounds as everyone gazed at the kneeling figure of the captain in the arena.

The royal guards, who’d been trained by Anandra from time to time, knew he was strong. But they’d never expected him to defeat the former captain of the Royal Knights in this manner.

“C-Commander Anandra!”

“As expected of the former commander of the Blackstone Soldiers!”

The first to break the deafening silence were the Blackstone Soldiers who came to watch the battle. Soon after, several more others started cheering the outcome of the battle.

“It was like watching Sword Saint Alexander and Sword Saint Marozzo fighting against each other!”

“I’m glad I got to witness this battle!”

“Is it even possible for swords to do that?”

Amidst the cheers and murmurs, Captain Symon slowly stood up, grabbed his sword, and sheathed it. He shook his head thrice, slapped his cheeks, gathered himself, and smiled.

“This fight has been an invaluable experience,” said Captain Symon as he bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Anandra nodded. “Likewise.”

The two were men of few words, but everyone who witnessed this spectacle could feel the respect they had for each other.

“Your Majesty,” Captain Symon gazed at Lark, who stood right outside the arena. “Please announce the result of the battle.”

“Of course,” said Lark. He amplified his voice with mana. “I will now announce the winner of this battle.”

Unlike before, the buzzes and murmurs in the training grounds didn’t die the moment Lark spoke. Everyone was still enveloped by the thrill of the battle they’d just witnessed.

Lark continued, “I’m certain that these two warriors will grow even further in the future. But for now, the winner of this match…”

Lark paused, and the chatter in the training ground finally died out. Everyone already knew who the winner was, but they still wished to hear it directly from the king’s mouth.

“Is Anandra!” said Lark.

The crowd erupted into louder cheers. The Blackstone Soldiers jumped in joy, while Austen and George started performing another weird dance. Seeing that Captain Symon had accepted his defeat with dignity, even the royal guards joined in the cheers.

After Anandra left the arena, he went straight to Lark and said, “Did I pass your test, Master?”

Lark smiled. This disciple of his was starting to become cheeky.

“That much is a given,” said Lark. “I’ll teach you the Seven Gates.” He crossed his arms, placed a hand on his chin, and paused. He added, “But I still need to look through the monster corpses stored in the castle’s third tower. For now, recuperate. Normal practice swings of the sword aside, I forbid you from performing any strenuous training until our lesson five days from now.”

“I understand,” said Anandra.

Lark looked at the woman standing several meters away from them. She was wearing a frown and held a basket in her hands.

“You should have seen how worried she was during the fight,” said Lark as he gazed at Irene.

Too focused on his battle against the captain, Anandra had forgotten that she came to watch his fight despite her busy schedule. He couldn’t understand why she seemed so insistent on watching him train every day, but for some reason, Anandra didn’t hate it. On the contrary, seeing her felt calming. It was an odd but welcomed feeling.

“What are you standing around here for?” said Lark. “Go to her.”

Anandra hesitated for several seconds, before eventually nodding his head. For some reason, he felt nervous as he walked toward her.

The moment they stood right in front of each other, Irene said, “Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Unlike the other spectators who were ecstatic, she sounded worried. Her knuckles had turned white as she gripped the handle of the basket.

“Why did you fight with the captain?” said Irene. “The two of you nearly destroyed the arena! You call that a spar? I’ve never seen a battle so dangerous in my life!”

To other people, this would probably sound like nagging. But strangely, Anandra found it heartwarming that someone was so concerned about his wellbeing.

Anandra had heard that the new secretary was a demon when it came to matters of the state. This was the same woman who made sure that the Assistant Vice Minister of Finance, who’d embezzled money from the government, met his due punishment.

But seeing her now reminded Anandra of a whimpering puppy. Her eyes were moist, as though she was close to crying.

“His Majesty cast a protection spell on the two of us beforehand,” said Anandra. “It would never have escalated to anything too dangerous.”

Irene lowered her head. She mumbled in a voice only the two of them could hear, “Do you know how worried I was?”

“Hey, old man! I knew you could do it!”

George, who couldn’t read the mood, came running toward them and jumped on Anandra’s back playfully for a second, before nudging him in the ribs. Austen came running right behind him.

“Hey, you moron!” said Austen to George. He looked at Anandra and the Secretary and immediately noticed the awkward atmosphere between the two.

“Lady Secretary,” said George. “How long are you going to hold on to those pastries? You planned to give them to the old man during his training, right?”

Austen groaned and covered his face with his palm.

“Pastries?” Anandra’s gaze moved toward the basket Irene was holding. “They’re for me?”

Irene’s face flushed. Looking around, she realized that a lot of people heard George’s statement.

Backed into a corner, Irene gathered her courage. She shoved the basket toward Anandra. She said, “T-They’re just leftovers! Here, they’re for you!”

The other people who heard this grinned. Even Anandra’s lips started curling up.

Although he was considered good-looking by most women, his default glare made them wary of approaching him. The women from his village aside, this was the first gift he’d received from the opposite sex.

“Thank you,” said Anandra.

***

After the spar between Anandra and Captain Symon in the training grounds, Lark went to the third tower of the castle.

As one of the oldest structures in the castle, the tower looked worn out and dilapidated. Still, it had the most enormous basement and was thus chosen as the storage site for the monster corpses.

“Your Majesty!”

“Your Majesty!”

The guards and the workers transferring the corpses to the tower’s basement halted what they were doing and greeted Lark the moment he arrived.

“It’s fine.” Lark raised his hand and stopped the guards and the workers from kneeling on the ground. “Continue transferring the corpses.”

“Yes!”

A few hundred corpses had already been transferred to the third tower’s basement by this time. The basement was freezing, and looking at the source, Lark realized that the dwarves had left behind the artifacts they used to preserve the corpses.

Lark approached one of the artifacts and inspected it. It’s well-made.

The artifact was a one-meter cube held by three steel pillars. Using a middle-grade mana stone as its power source, it continuously emitted freezing air capable of perfectly preserving the monster corpses.

Over a dozen similar artifacts were scattered throughout the third tower’s basement.

As expected of one of the richest nations in the continent. They had no qualms on leaving these artifacts behind for the humans to use.

Lark touched the artifact and carefully assessed the amount of mana left within its power source. If he wasn’t mistaken, they should still have a week of leeway until they ran out of power.

“Seven days,” Lark softly mumbled. He called over the guard in charge of overseeing the monster corpses.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?”

“How long will it take to transfer all of the corpses here?” said Lark. “And will this basement be enough to contain all of them?”

“Following Your Majesty’s instructions, we made sure to transport all of the corpses carefully,” said the guard. “With the current number of workers, it’ll probably take us until tomorrow to transfer them all.”

Considering the size and number of corpses, a single day to transport all of them to the third tower was a reasonable timeframe.

Lark looked around. High-quality kalrane stones, which Lark had ordered to be prepared beforehand, illuminated the massive room. Hundreds of monster corpses had been carefully laid on the corner, near the walls.

“Then, I expect the transport process to be over by tomorrow evening,” said Lark. “Do not dally. Recruit more workers if necessary. Although the dwarven artifacts are preserving these corpses right now, decay is inevitable with the passage of time.”

The guard nervously swallowed dry spit and nodded his head respectfully. He felt the burden of completing this task perfectly.

“I’ll… I’ll make sure we finish transporting all of the corpses before tomorrow’s dusk, Your Majesty!” said the guard.

***

After visiting the third tower of the castle, Lark went to the storeroom located near an abandoned oratory.

“Open it,” said Lark.

The guards standing before the entrance to the storeroom crisply saluted, replied with a loud “Yes!” and opened the large wooden door. A familiar scent seeped out the moment the door opened. Unlike the basement where the corpses were stored, it didn’t reek of rot and decay. Instead, the smell of iron and steel filled the air.

“I’m entering alone,” said Lark. “Do not follow me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Lark entered and went down a flight of steps, eventually arriving at a massive underground storage room that formerly served as one of the emergency exits for royalty. At the end of the room were three tunnels connected to different parts of the castle.

Lark had heard that during the Bloody Thorn Plains Incident more than a decade ago, General Carlos used these tunnels to ward off the rebels and secure the escape route of the royal family. These tunnels remained open, until Lark ascended the throne and ordered his men to block its entrances, before converting it into a massive storehouse.

Lark scanned the room.

Dozens of lit torches were latched on the walls and the pillars, providing ample illumination. Several hundred suits of armor made of iron stood right next to one of the blocked tunnels.

Lark had been creating these suits of armor whenever he had free time, even before the Ancient Fire Dragon Vulcan proposed to have a master–servant relationship. Over time, his hard work started paying off. Now, Lark had managed to accumulate nearly a thousand suits of armor.

It’s a good thing that this place is near the castle’s third tower, thought Lark.

With such proximity, it would be easy for the workers to transport the finished suits of armor to the basement of the tower once Lark decided to proceed with the ritual.

The dwarves managed to bring me a little over six thousand monster corpses. Now’s not the time to conserve the mana in the Sword of Morpheus. I should start creating more living suits of armor.

The longer they waited, the higher the chance of the essence within a monster corpse dissipating.

“It’s a pity that we don’t have enough steel and iron,” said Lark.

Even with the addition of the metal ores and ingots the dwarves brought with them, it was still not enough to create the Blackstone Legion Lark envisioned. He still needed more materials in order to turn that dream into reality.

For the rest of the day, Lark started using up the rest of the iron and steel ingots available in the storehouse. Unlike before, mana was no longer an issue with the help of the Sword of Morpheus.

Fourteen hundred suits of armor made of iron.

And fifty suits of armor made of steel.

The final result after consuming all of the resources currently available in the capital.

***

The next day, right after the workers were done transporting all of the monster corpses to the third castle, Lark went straight ahead with the Essence Animation Ritual—a technique sometimes called the Soul Morphosis Spell by the magicians of the Magic Empire.

As ordered, the workers left a large clearing at the center of the tower’s basement. This was where Lark planned on conducting the ritual.

“Leave the suits of armor over there.” Lark pointed at a nearby empty spot. “Do not enter unless I tell you to. And do not allow anyone to come in without my permission.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

After leaving behind over a dozen suits of armor in the room, the guards and workers left and closed the door.

“It’s cold,” Lark said to himself. Steam puffed out of his mouth when he spoke.

The artifacts that preserved the corpses were still running at full capacity. The chamber was freezing cold. The walls, the ground, and even the doors had started forming ice. The only reason the whole place hadn’t become a freezing hell by now was probably due to the presence of numerous kalrane stones illuminating the underground chamber.

Lark willed his mana to coat his body, preventing the cold from touching him.

“Let’s start.”

Using sacks of gold dust and ormatane dust, Lark drew a massive magic formation on the ground, with three smaller magic circles surrounding it. Upon finishing the magic formation, Lark used gravity magic to lift a suit of armor and three monster corpses of the same species into the air. Carefully, he placed the suit of armor at the center of the magic formation, and the monster corpses at the magic circles at its periphery.

When Lark had performed this ritual before, he used twenty goblin corpses to create a single suit of living armor.

But today was different.

According to the dwarves, most of the corpses they’d gathered were from powerful monsters capable of ripping even an adult dwarven warrior to shreds.

Thus, Lark deemed that three corpses was more than enough to create a powerful living suit of armor.

Lark channeled mana into the magic formation. The runes and symbols within it glowed, and a sharp whizzing sound was heard as the magic formation started consuming the monster corpses, melting their bodies and turning them into particles of light.

Several seconds passed.

The armor at the center of the largest magic circle started quivering, producing clanking sounds that echoed in the underground chamber. Moments after, a pair of yellow eyes peered at Lark through the iron helmet.

Lark could feel the solid link binding the suit of armor to the monsters’ essences. The strength of this one was almost on par with the suits of armor created using the essence of the basilisk.

It seemed the dwarves really made sure to hunt only strong monsters during the dragon’s trial.

“I am your master,” Lark arrogantly declared to the living suit of armor he’d just created. “If you acknowledge, kneel and bow your head.”

It was a simple test that verified the success of the ritual.

Based on his experience, the stronger the source of the monster essence, the higher the chance for the ritual to fail. Stronger monsters had stronger wills and egos, and the majority of them—even after their death—would never acknowledge a mere human as their master.

“If you acknowledge,” repeated Lark, “kneel and bow your head.”

The suit of armor groaned, fell on its knees with a loud thud, and lowered its head.

Lark smiled.

His first creation was a success.

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 22

For the next three days, Lark allocated all of his time to creating the Blackstone Knights. There were failed creations every now and then, but by the time he’d used up most of the monster corpses, he’d managed to create almost a thousand living suits of armor.

It was a great success, considering it had been weeks since the monsters were killed in the dwarven mountain range.

Following his orders, the living suits of armor left the basement of the castle’s third tower and gathered in the storehouse near the abandoned oratory.

With most of the suits of armor and corpses gone, the basement of the third tower now looked relatively empty.

“Now, all that’s left are these,” said Lark as he looked at the corpses of the Abyss Lurkers and the Black Puppeteer.

According to the dwarves, the Abyss Lurkers were apex monsters that ruled over the Bottomless Gorge—one of their Forbidden Regions. Each of them was capable of fighting an adult dragonewt; they were monsters capable of destroying a human town on their own.

The Black Puppeteer, on the other hand, was a creature considered powerful even back in the Era of Magic. It was a monster belonging to the nightwalker species. A monster that nearly killed Evander Alaester in his younger years.

Lark decided to use these monsters last, since the stronger the monster corpse, the higher the chance of failing the ritual.

‘Kel,’ he sent a mental transmission to Kel’ Vual, currently residing somewhere within the castle.

‘I’ll be performing the Essence Animation Spell.’

‘Essence Animation Spell?’ replied Kel’ Vual. ‘You mean the Soul Morphosis Spell?’

‘That’s right,’ replied Lark.

During the Era of Magic, due to its semblance to necromancy, the Essence Animation Spell was sometimes called the Soul Morphosis Spell.

‘I’ll be performing the spell on several powerful monster corpses,’ said Lark. ‘The chances are low, but in the event that an extremely powerful creature is created and the ritual fails, I need you to protect everyone in the castle.’

‘I’ll ask my people to protect the humans living in the castle,’ Kel’ Vual agreed in a heartbeat. ‘But… can’t you just cast a protective barrier so the monsters won’t be able to escape?’

‘I will. But one of the corpses I’ll be using is a nightwalker,’ said Lark. ‘This is just a precaution.’

‘A nightwalker…’ said Kel’ Vual. ‘I understand.’

Kel’ Vual had encountered nightwalkers before. Although they were no longer his match when he became a full-grown Arzomos, they were still terrifying creatures capable of easily tearing through simple barriers.

Lark cut off the mental transmission.

Using the mana within the Sword of Morpheus, he cast several protective barriers in the room.

“Let’s start.”

Using the corpses of the Abyss Lurkers, Lark planned on creating several Knight Commanders for the Blackstone Legion. And using the corpse of the Black Puppeteer, he planned on constructing a lord.

Lark added another small magic circle on the periphery of the formation he used before, increasing it from three to four. Using a simple gravity spell, he lifted a steel suit of armor and placed it in the center of the magic formation. He cast another gravity spell, and four Abyss Lurker corpses floated and gently landed on the magic circle.

Lark channeled magic into the magic formation. Unlike before, the amount of mana being sucked by the ritual was massive—enough mana to cast two grand scale magic spells.

Without the Sword of Morpheus, Lark would have a hard time using such powerful corpses for the ritual on his own. It would take him at least a year, even if he had the monster corpses and resources, to create the Blackstone Legion.

After consuming the necessary amount of mana, the magic formation was activated, and the four corpses slowly melted away, before turning into particles of light. The steel armor at the center of the magic formation quivered as crimson eyes peered through its helmet.

A loud growl was heard.

It’s capable of harnessing mana.

Lark could clearly see the mana flowing through the living suit of armor before him. Unlike his prior creations, this one held two cores—the core of its essence at the abdomen, and the core of mana on top of its chest.

It was basically an undying monster capable of using mana to further strengthen its steel body. And by absorbing the ambient mana, it should be also capable of recovering its mana stores.

It was an expected result, considering he’d used four Abyss Lurkers for this creation.

With just a single look, Lark knew it was by far his most powerful creation to date in this life.

“I am your master,” Lark recited the same words from before. “If you acknowledge, kneel and bow your head.”

The crimson eyes glared at him. The living suit of armor spread its arms wide and roared. Slowly, the mana within its core started covering its metallic body.

“A failure,” muttered Lark in a calm voice.

He’d expected to experience a lot of failures during the ritual, the moment he started using the corpses of such powerful monsters. The living suit of armor created using Abyss Lurkers didn’t even try to hide its killing intent as it continuously coated its steel body with mana.

The living suit of armor roared. Its eyes glowed. It channeled more mana into its feet and leaped toward Lark at an incredible speed. It pulled its arms back, and with earth-shattering force, punched at him.

Lark willed a barrier of mana to form before him, successfully blocking the suit of armor’s punch. A loud thud reverberated, and a small shockwave blew past Lark. Judging by the impact, that single punch was probably strong enough to destroy half the arena in the training ground.

It was a powerful strike capable of destroying stone walls.

Seeing that its attack was easily blocked by the human, the living suit of armor roared in anger. Filled with killing intent, it released an onslaught of attacks, one after another, each as strong as the first. Still, the temporary barrier created with the mana from the Sword of Morpheus didn’t budge. It remained strong, unmoving, without the slightest hint of forming cracks.

“That’s enough.”

Azure chains shot up from the ground and ensnared the living suit of armor’s body. The living suit of armor continued growling and roaring as it repeatedly tried breaking free from its binding.

Lark took several steps toward the living suit of armor.

“What a shame.”

Although powerful, it was nothing but a mindless, undying creature at this point.

“Go back to your slumber.”

Fearlessly, amidst the loud roars from the living suit of armor, Lark gently placed his hand on its abdomen—where the core of the essence was located. Without uttering another word, Lark channeled mana into the creature’s core and quickly destroyed the essence residing within. In just a few seconds, the living suit of armor stopped roaring and struggling to free its body from the chains. The glowing light inside its helmet flickered then vanished.

Silence returned to the underground room once again.

“There’s no time to waste,” mumbled Lark as he gazed at the unmoving suit of armor. “Let’s proceed with the next one.”

Without wasting time, Lark proceeded with another ritual. The second also ended up as a failure. Like before, his creation tried to kill him the moment it managed to consolidate the mana within its body.

Still, Lark wasn’t disheartened by the result. Calmly, he continued performing the rituals, one after another.

And by the time all of the Abyss Lurker corpses had been used, Lark had managed to create three powerful Blackstone Knight Commanders.

“Try to absorb as much ambient mana as you can. Consolidate your mana cores,” said Lark. He pointed at the walls. “For now, stand over there and await further orders.”

The Blackstone Knight Commanders groaned and trudged toward the place Lark indicated. They lined up next to the wall and stood perfectly still.

Finally, only one corpse was left.

It was time to use the corpse of the absolute ruler of the Death Cavern—the Black Puppeteer.

For the last ritual, Lark modified the magic circles in the periphery of the formation, in consideration of the fact that he’d be using just a single corpse.

After making sure that all the barriers he’d set up to protect the place were intact, Lark started channeling mana into the magic formation. After sucking in massive amounts of mana, enough to cast three grand scale magic spells, the corpse of the Black Puppeteer finally melted away and turned into particles of light. The suit of armor made of pure steel at the center of the formation started moving. A soft, almost inaudible groan escaped its mouth. Its bright crimson eyes calmly gazed at Lark.

Five cores.

The living suit of armor before him had three mana cores and two essence cores. Lark could clearly see the mana from the cores creeping throughout the creature’s body, forming numerous roots and branches, covering it completely.

This creature was strong, absurdly so.

Lark had just created a creature worthy of being called the Lord of the Blackstone Legion.

Now, all that was left was the question of whether or not this creation was going to acknowledge him as its master.

“I am your master,” declared Lark. “If you acknowledge, kneel and bow your head.”

Lark started preparing his spells, in case the last ritual was a failure.

The living suit of armor created using the corpse of the Black Puppeteer was definitely powerful enough to tear through the barrier Lark had set up. Fortunately, he’d already asked Kel’ Vual to protect the residents of the castle, so nothing too serious should happen even if it escaped the third tower’s basement.

Seconds passed.

Silently, the creature gazed at Lark. He could feel the creature assessing the amounts of mana he possessed in his body. He saw the creature’s gaze landing on the communication crystal on his necklace, then on the Sword of Morpheus, currently in the form of a bracer.

Lark smiled in amusement. It was sizing him up. It was carefully considering whether or not he was someone worthy to be its master.

Eventually, the living suit of armor knelt and bowed its head. A soft groan, which seemed to be saying, I’ve decided. I will serve you, escaped its mouth.

It was an unexpected conclusion to the ritual.

Lark had successfully created a powerful lord for the Blackstone Legion of the kingdom.

VOLUME 9: EPILOGUE

[City of Paradise—Capital of the Great Empire]

Home to over three million citizens of the empire, true to its name, the City of Paradise was considered to be the most prosperous city in the entire continent. This city, almost seven times the size of the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas, was protected by two massive walls. The outer walls spanned thirty meters in height, while the inner walls, which protected the Central District, boasted a height of forty meters. Numerous powerful defensive artifacts, along with thousands of mages and a hundred thousand-strong elite army, protected the city.

It was a city with several centuries of history.

An impregnable fortress.

A city that had never fallen into the hands of an enemy.

The city where the Emperor, Sylvius Lockhart Mavis—the so-called Devourer of Lands—resided.

Inside the throne room of the royal palace, the emperor was conducting an audience with several high-ranking officers and nobles of the empire.

“Lazarus,” said Emperor Sylvius. “How many months has it been? You still haven’t taken care of those pests who dare encroach our borders?”

Although there was no hint of anger within the emperor’s voice, most of the officers who heard it couldn’t help but tremble in terror. Each of the emperor’s words held indescribable pressure. It suffocated them, as though a weight was pressing down on their throat.

Although the empire had managed to defend all of its cities against the parasitic demons, they were unable to completely annihilate them until now.

After the Lord of Parasitic Demons returned to the Demon Realm, the parasitic demons attacking the empire scattered and hid themselves. Every now and then, the government officials and military officers would receive news that a town or a village had been attacked by these demons. Specifically, the demons’ ability to parasitize their opponents proved quite a headache.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” said General Lazarus, the highest-ranking officer in the south. Together with the late General Alvaren and Rizel, he was among the pillars who’d been protecting the Great Empire. “We’ve been sending out several groups to hunt down the creatures, but killing all of them proves to be a difficult task. Not only are they capable of digging underground, they are also capable of moving through steep terrain.”

The emperor stared at the kneeling General Lazarus for several seconds. He did not doubt the abilities of this man in the slightest. His gaze moved to the old woman kneeling next to the general.

“Master of the Research Tower,” said Emperor Sylvius. “Has your research bore any fruit?”

The Master of the Research Tower lowered her head. “Yes, Your Majesty. After conducting tests on several bodies, we came to the conclusion that the creatures that attacked our cities aren’t monsters, but demons.”

Demons?

The other officials looked at the Master of the Research Tower as though she’d gone mad.

Most of them believed that demons were simply myths. Existences told in folklores and fairytales to scare children. After all, according to records, the last sighting of demons was several hundred years ago. And there wasn’t even a way of verifying if those records were true and accurate.

“Demons,” repeated Emperor Sylvius. “Creatures of legend. You’re telling me that tens of thousands of demons suddenly appeared, entered our borders, and attacked our cities. Is that correct?”

“I believe so, Your Majesty,” said the Master of the Research Tower. “If our deductions are correct, they are demons belonging to the parasitic species. They are weak, but tricky opponents. Demons capable of planting their seed into their prey, granting them control over the bodies of their opponents. I’ve consulted with the Master Librarian, and according to him, the records left behind by the Grand Historian, Gustav Chavalion, corroborate these findings.”

Emperor Sylvius stroked his beard. He knew there were merits to listening to the Master of the Research Tower.

“Your Majesty,” said General Lazarus.

“Speak,” said the emperor.

“I recently received a message from Admiral Colodus of the Andora Port,” said General Lazarus. “After much investigation, his men found that the creatures that attacked our cities came from the seas. Particularly, from the direction of the Mullgray Islands.”

Under normal circumstances, had they not been in the presence of the emperor, the officials who’d heard those words would have cried in outrage by now, believing that those demons were funneled to their territories by the despicable pirate scum.

Now that they’d thought of it, those damn pirates would benefit the most if the demons continued attacking the cities under the empire.

Or so they thought.

Contrary to their expectations, the next words of General Lazarus proved otherwise.

“Our navy managed to capture several survivors of the Grand Pierson Pirate Fleet,” said General Lazarus. “According to them, the Pirate King already perished in battle, along with the Mad Eye. Several witnesses testified that most of the islanders were massacred by the demons, Your Majesty.”

Heavy silence fell in the room.

It was big news.

They’d never expected that the King of Pirates, a human who could kill an adult ragiacrus with his bare hands, would perish in this manner. Moreover, based on the general’s story, it seemed that the majority of the pirates had been killed by the parasitic demons before they even started invading the empire’s territories.

But if the pirates weren’t the ones behind this mess, then who directed the parasitic demons to them? They refused to believe that there was no one controlling such a massive army of demons.

The empire had a lot of enemies. Currently, it was hard to pinpoint who among them was the mastermind behind this ploy.

“Master of the Alchemy Tower,” said Emperor Sylvius. Unlike the other officials who’d become shaken upon hearing the fate of the pirates, Emperor Sylvius remained calm and collected. “How is the progress of the cure for monsterization?”

Although it was more commonly known as parasitization in the Kingdom of Lukas, the empire called the phenomenon monsterization. Naturally, the task of creating a cure fell into the hands of the Alchemy Tower.

The Master of the Alchemy Tower, a hunched old man wearing thick glasses, slowly shook his head.

“We’ve tried all sorts of medicine available in the Alchemy Tower, Your Majesty,” said the hunched old man. “But to no avail. The Scarlet Poison Pill proved to be capable of halting the progression of monsterization, but it’s incapable of curing the body completely. I’m afraid that it’ll take us quite some time before we can concoct a cure, Your Majesty.”

The Alchemy Tower’s master paused, looked up, and respectfully gazed at the emperor. He said in a raspy voice, “But I’ve heard news… no, rumors… that a cure is already available in the Kingdom of Lukas.”

The emperor’s eyes glimmered in dangerous light upon the mention of that kingdom. He still hadn’t forgiven the damn Lukasians for the death of the Magic Slayer and the Ghost of the Empire.

“According to one of the spies we’ve planted in the Leonard School, Viscount Zacharia successfully cured the monsterization of his son after obtaining a potion from Behemoth City,” said the Alchemy Tower’s master. “Not only that. We also received a report from our spy in Tranta City that a similar thing occurred in their territory. Although it’s currently impossible to verify the potency of the medicine created by the Lukasians, if we could somehow get our hands on it…”

“Ha! Preposterous!” one of the counts in the room snorted. Despite knowing that he was under the presence of the emperor, he could no longer contain himself. “Alchemy Master, do you truly believe that those buffoons are capable of creating a cure for the monsterization? Those primitive fools who dare to stand up against our great nation?!”

The other nobles nodded in approval. They, too, believed it impossible that such a weak nation had managed to create a cure before the Great Empire.

Another noble added, “They’re nothing but a nation composed of illiterate slaves who dared to reject the salvation offered to them by our beloved emperor! A sheep remains a sheep even if you clothe it in gold! There must be a mistake in the spy’s report!”

The nobles who jeered at the Kingdom of Lukas were those who’d lost their fortunes in the previous war. The count, in particular, was the lord of the city ravaged by the mana bombs of the Lukasians. It was no wonder that they hated the Kingdom of Lukas with every fiber of their being. Although several reports indicated that the Kingdom of Lukas had indeed managed to create a cure for the monsterization, they refused to believe it.

While the nobles were busy throwing insults to the Lukasians, a messenger entered the throne room and delivered a sealed letter to General Lazarus.

The moment he read the contents, the expression of the general, who’d remained calm until now, contorted.

“Your Majesty…” said General Lazarus, his voice grim. “We’ve just received a report from our Intelligence Division.”

“What is it?” said Emperor Sylvius.

“Dwarves…” said General Lazarus. He gripped the letter in his hand, crumpling it. “The dwarven kingdom has opened their borders and declared their alliance to the Kingdom of Lukas.”

The throne room fell silent.

The eyes of everyone in the room widened as they tried digesting the words the general had just uttered.

Although those gathered here today were part of the Great Empire, they all knew that the only reason the Great Empire could assert its dominance over its neighboring nations was due to the non-interference policy of the dwarven kingdom.

Even without the dragon protecting its borders, the military might of the dwarven kingdom surpassed that of the Great Empire. This was especially true now that the Magic Slayer and the Ghost of the Empire had just perished in battle.

The dwarven kingdom declaring their alliance to the Kingdom of Lukas meant only one thing: It would be nothing but foolishness on their part if they remained the enemy of the Lukasians.

But why had the dwarves, known to hate humans and beastmen alike, suddenly opened their borders and declared such alliance?

They heard that the dragon protecting the kingdom  enacted the laws in that nation. Therefore, it should be impossible to declare an alliance with a human nation unless it had been approved by the dragon himself.

It did not make sense, no matter how much they thought of it.

“T-There must be a mistake,” one of the nobles in the throne room mumbled.

It was the very same thought running through everyone’s minds. Even to Emperor Sylvius Lockhart Mavis, the so-called Devourer of Lands, this news came as a shock.

***

A few days passed since the Great Empire received news of the dwarves’ declaration of alliance.

It was more than enough time for Emperor Sylvius to gather himself and come up with a decision regarding the matter. Although he still had grudges and grievances with the Kingdom of Lukas, he knew that it would be nothing but foolishness if he continued with his declaration of war now.

Even the Great Empire wouldn’t be left unscathed if the dwarves decided to participate in the war. Moreover, if the dragon himself made an appearance, it would be easy to ravage the capital of the empire to the ground.

He summoned his second youngest daughter and a Royal Court Magician to the sitting room.

“You called for me, Father?” said Luna Lockhart Mavis.

“I’ve come upon your orders, Your Majesty,” said Jacob Fraser, one of the twenty Royal Court Magicians of the empire.

Luna was in her mid-twenties. Jet-black hair, black eyes, and ivory skin that seemed so fragile that it would break upon a moment’s touch. She looked exactly like her deceased mother—the so-called Flower of the Empire—when she was young.

Jacob Fraser, on the other hand, was the only surviving member of a fallen noble house. At the young age of twenty-seven, he was currently the youngest Royal Court Magician of the empire.

“I have a task for the two of you,” said Emperor Sylvius. His gaze moved from his daughter, to the Royal Court Magician, then back.

Luna and Jacob silently listened as the emperor continued, “The two of you will serve as envoys to the Kingdom of Lukas. Form a friendly relationship with their new king. And if possible, beguile him.”

Luna understood what her father was trying to say. She’d also heard that the new king was previously known as a womanizer. A young man with questionable morals. She even wondered how such an incompetent man had managed to become the ruler of a kingdom.

“It shall be done, Father,” said Luna.

Whenever the question of who was the most beautiful woman in the empire came up, Luna’s name was always mentioned among the top contenders. Luna was confident of ensnaring the King of Lukas.

“Fraser.”

“Your Majesty,” said the Royal Court Magician.

“Together with a hundred elite soldiers and several magicians, escort my daughter,” said Emperor Sylvius. “At the same time, I want you to secure several vials of the medicine created by the Lukasians for the monsterization. Obtain the potions, no matter the cost.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Now that the dwarven kingdom had openly declared their alliance with the Kingdom of Lukas, Emperor Sylvius no longer had any intention of further antagonizing the kingdom. He deemed that the best course of action was to focus their military might on the Kingdom of Everfrost instead.

“Entice and seduce their king with your beauty, my daughter,” said Emperor Sylvius. “All men hold the same desires within their heart. Even that new king shouldn’t be an exemption to this.”

Luna licked her lips. Her well-fitted dress accentuated her voluptuous body. “No man is capable of resisting my charm. I shall make sure that he dances on the palm of my hand, like a cute little puppet. Please leave it to me, Father.”