Ch.173173. Victim

The enormous chandelier in the banquet hall looked both magnificent and unsettling, like something from a detective novel.

The plush carpet with brown patterns cushioned their feet, while the soft lighting on the walls made it easy to forget it was nighttime.

Circular tables had been arranged for ambassadors from various countries.

Starting with the Griffin Kingdom, then the Kingdom of Zerman. Even the Valestan Duchy, quite distant from the Republic of Clark, and even a fading empire from the east.

Many nations had attended this banquet, which itself was a testament to the Griffin Kingdom’s diplomatic prowess.

While it made sense that the Kingdom of Zerman would attend, being just across the desert, they had managed to summon representatives from smaller nations like the Valestan Duchy and even the now poorly-regarded empire.

Lavish food adorned each table. There was an abundance of meat dishes, clearly reflecting Magan’s preferences.

Naturally, not everyone from Norsweden could enter the banquet hall; only the three Verdi siblings were permitted to attend.

The three of them sat at one table, while at another Griffin table sat Princess Elenoa, Saintess Lucia, and Judge Tyrn.

“Haa.”

As soon as she sat down, Deia pushed aside the champagne placed before her and requested water instead.

Although the alcohol was a special distilled liquor from the Republic, difficult to obtain even in the kingdom, she couldn’t afford to be intoxicated in such a tense situation.

Deus licked his lips but restrained himself for now. Only Darius took occasional sips for the sake of etiquette.

“Quite a gathering of big shots here,” remarked Darius, the warrior, noticing the considerable number of skilled individuals present.

Starting with the superhuman Oscoph from the Republic of Clark standing guard at the entrance.

“The Shield of Valestan Duchy, Tom. I heard he was bear-like in size, and he truly is impressive.”

The man called Tom from the Valestan Duchy needed two chairs pushed together to accommodate his size, and he was already drinking heavily.

Even the strong liquor seemed like mere juice to him.

“Since the duchy’s heir is here, he’s probably there to protect him in case something happens.”

Deia rested her chin on her hand as she observed the Valestan Duchy’s table. Being from the smallest power represented, the young male heir was trying to appear calm while remaining vigilant.

“The old man Han So, once called the Martial God, came from the empire.”

“The empire is in a precarious position, so they couldn’t spare their key personnel. Being a Martial God gives him enough reputation, and the old man probably came out for a change of scenery since he’s close to retirement with nothing to do.”

“…Do you have to add your commentary to every observation I make?”

Deia shrugged as she responded to Darius, who had been excited to see such remarkable warriors but whose observations she was interpreting in purely political terms.

The Valestan Duchy and the empire shared a border but had poor relations, which explained why their tables were placed at opposite ends of the hall.

Their mutual awareness was likely part of the reason they both attended the banquet.

“Even the Kingdom of Zerman, the most important one, has put in quite an effort.”

The Kingdom of Zerman, located in the Sahar Desert beyond the Great Marias Forest. They had tried to use the Marias tribe to establish a foothold for invading Griffin.

While others didn’t know, Deus and Aria were already aware that within a few years, they would march their massive army toward the Griffin Kingdom.

And with that, bloodshed would once again sweep across the continent.

“The Desert Beast, Jornia.”

With tanned skin and solid muscles, he wore a kopis—a sword with an axe-like curved blade—at his waist despite being at a banquet.

“So many prominent figures gathered in one place. Won’t there be any sparring matches?” Darius muttered while sniffing and eating.

Deia clicked her tongue. “Why bother when you’d just lose anyway?”

“W-what are you saying? I’m also a renowned warrior called the Giant of Norsweden.”

“And yet you were defeated by someone named Doberman?”

“T-that was because of the bomb…!”

“Enough. We have Lord Tyrn anyway, so we’re not lacking in strength.”

“…”

In truth, they weren’t merely “not lacking”—the pressure emanating from Magic Judge Tyrn was so intimidating that even others were cautious around him.

A quiet aura that promised immediate consequences for any foolish actions or insulting words.

“Would you like one?”

A maid approached with something on a silver tray. Before he could properly see what it was, Deus’s eyes widened.

“Sniff! Sniff sniff!”

A reaction they had seen before.

Looking at the silver tray the maid offered, there were cigars much thicker than fingers neatly arranged on it.

‘These aren’t just ordinary tobacco.’

They were drugs.

The Republic of Clark was bold enough to manufacture drugs. Their laws were fundamentally different from other countries.

Darius declined, while Deus was drooling but…

“N-no, I’m fine.”

He forcibly turned his head away, showing admirable restraint.

“I’ll take one.”

Deia, who had been staring blankly at the cigars, took one and tucked it away.

She had no intention of smoking it herself but wanted to keep it as evidence in case something happened.

“You…”

“These lunatics are offering drugs to honored guests. I need to check what they’re giving out.”

“But…”

As Darius was about to protest, Magan and his female secretary walked onto the stage at the front of the banquet hall.

He waddled toward the microphone in a rather unseemly manner, causing quiet laughter from some tables.

However, those who knew his true nature didn’t even crack a smile.

Every one of these awkward movements seemed like nothing more than a forced attempt to appear as an insignificant human.

“Everyone who has attended today’s banquet, I truly welcome you. As you all know, I am Magan Tolles, President of the Republic of Clark.”

A simple self-introduction.

Following that came predictable greetings and insincere words about working together for the future and peace of the continent.

Deia glanced down at her empty glass. It had been deliberately positioned to allow her to see the other tables.

‘The Kingdom of Zerman seems uninterested. The empire is pretending to be friendly, and the Valestan heir is…’

Through the glass, she could see the young Valestan heir wiping away tears.

She had heard that the devil’s whispers could give false emotions to humans, but she never expected anyone at this gathering to be moved by Magan’s insincere tongue-wagging.

‘If that’s acting, it’s truly impressive.’

But it didn’t look like acting at all. Even Tom, who had accompanied him as an advisor, was patting his shoulder as if telling him to pull himself together.

“Now! All of you! You hold glorious positions and carry many burdens. However, just for today, set all of that aside!”

Magan’s mouth stretched into a wide grin.

“And enjoy the feast.”

BOOM!

An explosive sound erupted.

The unstable chandelier fell, and black smoke and dust enveloped everyone in a gust of wind.

The wall where the entrance was located collapsed like a tsunami, burying one side of the banquet hall under a pile of stones.

The superhuman Oscoph who had been standing there, along with many of the Republic’s servants, were crushed under the rubble, with blood seeping through the cracks.

“Duck down!”

Deia hurriedly protected Deus. She shoved him under the table as he trembled in shock, then made eye contact with Darius.

“I’ll protect him. You assess the situation first.”

“Got it.”

He quickly turned his gaze toward Elenoa’s table.

Fortunately, Tyrn had already extended the protective magic of his robe to shield both the princess and the Saintess.

“Are you alright over there?!”

Due to the smoke and dust, Elenoa couldn’t clearly see the adjacent table and called out to check on them.

“We’re fine, Princess! All the Verdi siblings are safe!” Darius shouted back, causing Elenoa to sigh in relief.

While the situation with the other delegations remained unclear, they were certainly trapped in the banquet hall.

Everyone must be in a state of confusion.

The hall’s lights had all gone out, and amidst the explosion and smoke from an unknown source, Saintess Lucia was the first to extend her hand.

“Everyone, please remain calm.”

A white sphere emanated from her palm and floated toward where the chandelier had been. Even through the dust and smoke, the light spread with absolute purity, rejecting any impurities.

Soon, the light of holy power illuminated the entire banquet hall.

“Ah.”

“So that’s a Saintess.”

“Holy power, is it?”

Naturally, there were no casualties at any of the tables.

Everyone had renowned warriors among their entourage, so such an ambush was ineffective.

After confirming this, both Deia and Elenoa simultaneously looked toward where Magan had been.

“That madman.”

“Could he not control his instincts? How foolish.”

They were about to condemn Magan for daring to pull such a stunt with so many diplomatic delegations present, declaring the end of the Republic of Clark’s diplomatic image, but…

“Huh?”

No words came out.

No, they couldn’t properly grasp the situation.

They had thought everyone was safe.

But there was one victim of this attack.

A sword had pierced through the nape of his neck and sliced downward, exposing his internal organs.

Blood had sprayed far.

Breath already ceased.

Eyes rolled back.

Body deflated like air escaping.

The corpse of the Great Devil Magan lay there.