Ch.15Twisted Fate (1)

“Hu… huhuhuh… huhuhuhuh.”

The joy of victory dulled Aurela’s mind. It was an exhilarating sensation. After a week of fierce battles, they had slain all the vermin of the south, and if that wasn’t enough, they had seized numerous spoils of war.

Gold coins that she had never seen while performing her duties as governor now came into her possession.

Even this was modest compared to what the future held. With plans to requisition resources from various tribes across the southern continent, the wealth that would flow into Raktelrun would be immense. From the moment they claimed their rights as victors of war, they would enjoy prosperity incomparable to anything before.

The time had come to make the cradle of southern civilization shine brilliantly once more.

If all this glory were to be attributed to the great regent, Durin the Skull Crusher, surely great blessings would…

“Quiet, Aurela. Stop this nonsense and get moving.”

Unlike the excited Aurela, Durin did not indulge in the joy of victory. He was actually busier with post-war affairs. The battlefield had erupted with the hero, the Demon King, and rebels all at once. Reports coming in almost daily had piled up mountains of work.

[We’ve captured a group of defeated soldiers who fled to the northeastern tribe. We will execute all those who caused the uprising.]

[The capital of the barbarians has formally sent their unconditional surrender. The chief’s son himself is coming as an envoy.]

[The sorcerer dispatched from the central region is requesting to reestablish the laws of the demon realm in the south.]

The continent had been separated for a full 1,000 years. Having developed different cultures and systems during their time apart from the central region, it would take considerable effort to incorporate them under the order of the Castle. It felt like starting from scratch.

“Huhuhuh. I apologize. I was just so happy about this victory…”

“Aurela. It would be best to know when to stop. Quickly, show proper respect.”

At the center of it all was Berdia. The childish appearance she had when they first met had largely faded. As she established herself as a legionnaire, she was once again showing qualities befitting the daughter of a chief. Berdia sighed deeply at Aurela and bowed her head to Durin.

“Your Excellency. The barbarian entourage has arrived at our military camp. Let’s go out to meet them directly.”

This was welcome news he had been waiting for. The final step to solidify the Castle’s dominance awaited him.

Durin wasted no time and went outside the tent.

Under a sky where crows circled chasing corpses, dozens of barbarians had gathered. They showed a frail side, like nobles of Raktelrun, rather than the fierce spirit of hardened warriors. The skinny demon at the front staggered and knelt down.

“Master of the central region. We have been waiting.”

The chief’s son. Given the southern custom where commanders directly participated in battle, he was not the legitimate heir but a surviving blood relative. All children recognized as warriors were now heads on stakes staring at them, so in a way, he could be considered fortunate. He had been given the chance to extend his bloodline in place of his family members who had died before him.

As if not wanting to miss this opportunity, the chief’s gaunt son humbled himself completely.

“My name is Haral. I plead to be freed from the sins of the blasphemer Gulan. I will live according to the demon realm’s laws for the rest of my life, so please take us under your shadow. We will follow the order of the Castle.”

His trembling throat barely managed to spit out the oath of allegiance. But Durin’s reaction was indifferent. As the great demon just stared down at him, the frozen atmosphere pressed down on the nobles. Even the demons of Raktelrun, who were allies, gulped nervously.

“Are the sorcerers making you say this nonsense?”

“To be precise, it’s what the judges of Raktelrun instructed. I heard that verbal declarations are necessary for the laws to take effect.”

“Verbal declarations…”

“Since rebellion happens only once every 300 years, I looked through the law books with the governor. It seems that the words of the author must be spoken without missing a single letter for the declaration of dominance to be properly recognized.”

“The escaped Demon King said the same on his coronation day. And where is he now?”

No one could answer. They were living witnesses. Durin despised empty words. He no longer believed in voices that scattered into the air.

“Laws are guidelines to follow, not guarantees of certainty. They are properly implemented only when engraved on the skin.”

Clang!

Saying this, Durin threw a dagger to the ground.

Startled by the loud noise, the barbarians retreated hesitantly. Only the skinny Haral, who couldn’t back away as their representative, trembled violently. Unable to even think of meeting Durin’s eyes, he approached the dagger with shaking hands.

Durin spoke to him:

“Carve it directly into your arm. My magical power is in the blade, so you will feel the oath.”

“Your Excellency?”

“The pain won’t last long. Rather, it’s an opportunity to properly receive the Castle’s magical energy, so you may rejoice.”

“Y-Your Excellency.”

The confused Haral called out to Durin, but no answer came. It meant he had no choice. He lowered his gaze to the rusty dagger. Red magical energy swirled around the faded blade. He had to stab that pointed thing into his arm.

Fear that a warrior should never feel tightened around Haral’s throat. His body wouldn’t move. Despite the regent’s instructions, he just kept trembling.

“I-I, blasphemous…”

“Your Excellency. Allow me to step forward.”

Some southern nobles who couldn’t stand by watching this stepped forward. They seemed to think it was an opportunity to prove their loyalty. Durin nodded, thinking this was appropriate.

“Good. Carve it properly on his forearm.”

“Leave it to us!”

With the regent’s permission, the nobles surrounded the barbarians. Their shadows pressed down on them. The dagger that some noble carefully picked up slowly approached.

“S-Sister! Sister!”

The desperate scream was directed at Berdia. For a moment, footsteps stopped. Everyone looked at the daughter of the rock. It was a question of what she would do in response to this appeal to blood ties.

“It was what Father did! I never even dreamed of rebellion! Why, why must I suffer like this!”

“……”

“Sister! Please. Please! Help me!”

It was a desperate plea. Tears streamed down his distorted face.

But Berdia’s expression didn’t change. She was indifferent. To be precise, she wasn’t interested.

She moved toward the stakes. The painful face of her father, whom she had beheaded with her own hands, came into view. When she caressed his stiffened cheek, she felt coldness. Berdia’s resolve was just as cold.

“Carve it.”

“S-Sister?”

“If he resists too much, it’s fine to kill him. There are still many of the chief’s bloodline left.”

“Understood.”

In the face of this resolute sentence, Haral struggled, but it was useless. The hands of nobles, seeking better positions at this crossroads of life and death, grabbed him from all directions.

Aaaaargh-!

Screams echoed. The sound of flesh tearing erupted incessantly.

Those too weak to witness this sight averted their eyes.

“……”

Among the southern barbarians, only Berdia was watching the scene alongside Durin.

With an uncommon pleasure.

#

“How barbaric. As expected of the Demon King’s army.”

Through the slightly open tent door, the demons’ horrific acts continued. It seemed likely that they would meet the same fate if they made a wrong move. The dwarf warrior’s resolve to move as soon as his body recovered weakened at that moment.

“It seems there’s nothing we can do until they approach us first. Ah well, can’t be helped.”

As long as Durin the Skull Crusher was there with his glaring red eyes, they had to stay put.

“Yes. Perhaps it’s better to wait and watch until your body heals.”

The dwarf warrior Turan slumped into a chair. Before him were his party members recovering in bed.

The one-armed hero struggling to breathe and the elf with a pale complexion that wouldn’t fade.

The remaining one… thinking about it made him sigh first.

“How… how did we manage to survive?”

The elf Eliya asked, staring blankly into space. It was a question that had been haunting her since she regained consciousness the previous night.

The hero’s party had invaded the demon realm and taken their king. Or rather, she had followed them, but that was an internal matter irrelevant to the demons.

In such a worst-case scenario, it wouldn’t have been strange if the entire party had been killed. Honestly, the elf, who had survived thanks to the World Tree’s protection, was prepared to face dismembered comrades. Only one had died… it couldn’t be called good, but it wasn’t the worst outcome.

“Turan. Were you awake at that time?”

“Me? Awake my ass. I nearly died from one finger point while trying to catch the escaping Demon King.”

“…It’s amazing we’re alive.”

“Hahaha. If this counts as an achievement, then it’s an achievement.”

“I envy how at ease you are despite being captured in the Demon King’s camp. I should try to live more positively too, to regain my senses. Ugh.”

Pain from her chest interrupted the elf’s words. Looking down, there was a long black scar. She was barely holding on with the power of the World Tree. Of course, there was no threat to her life itself, but she would probably have to live with this pain for the rest of her life.

“Still, we have to hang on since Kael is still alive. We need to get him out of here.”

“Will we even be able to get out? We might end up like those other demons outside.”

“…We’ll have to pray that doesn’t happen.”

It was an irresponsible statement, but there was nothing to counter it with. In reality, their fate had completely passed into others’ hands, so they were like death row inmates awaiting their sentence. With no strength, no weapons, and even the heavens unable to reach them, it wouldn’t be strange for them to be floundering in despair.

Flap!

While their directionless conversation continued, the tent door opened.

A rough hand interrupted the flow. After the coarse energy of Durahan passed through, a demon with red horns entered.

“Well, well. Clearly not the culprits.”

The sneering voice grated on both the dwarf and the elf. With arms folded, she appeared relaxed.

Turan remembered her face. She was the strange demon who had been giggling beside Durin. Judging by her mentality, he thought things wouldn’t go smoothly.

“Do you have business with us?”

“Would I be here if I didn’t? Hurry up and get dressed. We have somewhere to go.”

The demon tossed black hoods at them with a thud. They looked at the rags that had fallen on their knees and then turned their gaze to the hero.

“Are just the two of us going? What about the hero?”

“We’ll take care of things here. Just get moving. It’s the regent’s order.”

The regent. Referring to Durin.

Eliya and Turan had to suppress their rising questions. The nightmarish battle scene came to mind.

He was the great demon who had toyed with the hero and even taken his left arm. It was already a miracle that they still had their lives.

“Why on earth…”

They covered their faces to avoid drawing attention among the demons. There was much that remained unresolved, but for now, they moved as requested.

The answers they sought would likely be revealed when they met face to face.

“Follow me. Be careful on your own, as you could die if you get distracted.”

#

“Your Excellency. The hero’s party is now moving to meet the Witch of Prophecy.”

Aurela reported. Durin listened to her voice from his office.

“The sorcerers dispatched from Raktelrun will warp them to the Rock Shrine. The Golden Guard will personally handle the escort, so there shouldn’t be any major issues.”

“They can be trusted. Has there been any word on when the meeting will end?”

“I apologize. No specific information has been provided.”

“Then it doesn’t matter. We’ll wait.”

“Yes. I’ll take my leave then.”

The governor withdrew with quick steps. Resolving this matter would address all the issues that had been reported. Checking the time, it was well past midnight.

Durin rose from his seat and went outside.

Barbarians ruled by fear and southern nobles suppressed by authority.

The Castle’s guards, who had gained firm belief instead of anxiety about losing the Demon King.

Sorcerers and subordinates who now divided and performed tasks that Durin had to do alone.

Under the dark night, the Castle’s forces were showing their true form as a legion. Having built confidence through victory, they would not waver and would proceed correctly even if another rebellion broke out. Additionally, with the High Sorceress Rudmilla managing the Castle’s internal affairs well, there was little for him to worry about.

“……”

That should certainly be the case.

In the distance, a demon running earnestly from outside the camp caught his eye. It wasn’t a messenger bringing urgent news. It was a sorcerer from Raktelrun wearing a black robe. A sorcerer who should be working with the judges to apply the demon realm’s laws to the southern continent was coming this way, naturally drawing his attention.

The only possibility that came to mind:

“Your Excellency. There’s an urgent communication request from the central region.”

The voice heard from outside the tent was breathless. The sorcerer’s sense of crisis from the word “urgent” was significant. Durin didn’t ask about the situation and immediately went outside.

“Where will the communication take place?”

“We’ve prepared a separate location. Please follow me.”

Durin followed the sorcerer’s guidance. The destination was a small tent slightly away from the commander’s quarters. Golden Guards, turned into statues, were strictly guarding it, completely blocking others’ approach. Durin sent the sorcerer away and opened the tent door.

“……”

Inside, where only one blue lantern was lit, sat Rudmilla. However, she was blurry. It was an image created through communication sorcery.

Rudmilla, the acting regent who should be controlling the central region, had urgently called for Durin. It meant that an issue that even the High Sorceress, who had received the Demon King’s seal, couldn’t handle freely was waiting for him.

“Durin. I’d like to share the joy of victory with you, but the situation is too urgent now. Let’s get straight to the point. Is that okay?”

Though she spoke calmly, there were traces of her biting her lips intermittently. Rudmilla was nervous.

“I received a rough briefing from the master. I thought we were just capturing the hero, but what else are you plotting?”

It was closer to a demand than a question. He wanted to hear the answer first. Since it wasn’t something that needed to be hidden, Durin simply nodded.

“That’s right. As you said, the Witch of Prophecy showed the path we must take. I’ve carried it out with certainty by capturing the hero, so there’s no need to worry.”

“There are very few demons who speak as confidently as you do. Most make a fuss about fighting, waste time, and end up dead. Hardly any have succeeded.”

Her tone was cautious. As a sorceress, she too was gauging the magnitude of fate. Rudmilla was warning him not as an opponent but as a sorceress who had glimpsed the future.

“So it seems better to be more careful. You’ve caused a major shock to the flow of the world. Only the master knows the outcome… but since there’s no particular comment, it seems fine.”

“Is that why you contacted me?”

“No. The Castle’s finances aren’t so abundant that we can freely use this expensive communication sorcery. But…”

Rudmilla spoke with a bitter smile. It was a mix of self-deprecation and jest. However, the content that followed didn’t lighten the atmosphere.

“It turns out this isn’t something to be sparing with. An angel has shown movement. At the time estimated to be when the Demon King left the demon realm and you captured the hero.”

“……”

“Now there’s really not much time left. Please hurry.”