Episode 105
“So, the rumors about an intriguing upstart in Saxon weren’t entirely baseless, it seems.”
In the tense atmosphere, the Drowned King finally spoke.
“Young man, I accept your proposal.”
”…!”
“Or rather, I have no choice but to accept it.”
His response was immediate and without hesitation, surprising even Dale, who held his breath.
“But don’t think for a second that I’ll become your puppet.”
“I completely understand,” Dale replied with a sly smile and a nod.
There was no other option. A cornered rat will bite the cat without hesitation. Faced with the threat of having his heart in the hands of the Drowned King, Dale was ready to risk his life for ruthless revenge.
However, if a cornered rat finds an escape route, the situation changes. Even the Drowned King wouldn’t willingly throw his life away. Dale had counted on this, and the Drowned King understood his intentions.
“Then it’s settled,” the City Master announced.
“Lord Dale of Saxon has bid for the ‘Heart of the Drowned King’ through the prize awarded to the Fight Club champion.”
Behind him, six guild masters stood, unable to comprehend the unexpected turn of events.
“The bid is finalized at eight hundred thirty-nine black chips.”
Ray Eurys, Mikhail Lancaster. Among those who would rise as the next generation of powerhouses after the current ones fell, it was Dale of Saxon who claimed the first victory.
The emblem of the Barbarossa family—a skull with crossed femurs—fluttered on the sails of a fleet in the night breeze.
The invincible fleet of the Drowned King, Barbarossa, was retreating beyond the dark horizon, having encircled the city of Cambio.
With the ‘immense spoils’ they had plundered from the city known as the Golden Empire, particularly from the financial district of Cambio.
To maintain his reputation as a pirate, he left the city with a scar that wouldn’t easily fade, though he refrained from completely destroying it.
They had raided the ‘Guild Bank’ in Cambio, emptying its vaults.
The city was ablaze, a message from the Drowned King that he wouldn’t yield easily, a message Dale understood all too well.
The coastal district lay in ruins, a testament to the visit of Francis Barbarossa, the Drowned King.
Some time later, seven grand guild masters gathered in Guild City.
It was time to vote for the next City Master.
With a unanimous vote from the six guild masters, excluding himself, the new City Master was chosen.
A man wearing the mask of the “Laughing Man.”
“What are you plotting?”
In the city of Cambio, at the town hall of Arte del Cambio, stood the man with the mask of the “Laughing Man,” his mouth twisted into a crescent moon.
“I’m not plotting anything,” the City Master replied nonchalantly to Dale’s question.
“I simply know things.”
“What do you mean?”
“That Lord Dale has coerced the Guild Master of Calimala, seized the Shadow Court, and foresees a future where this city dances to the tune of the powerful.”
It wasn’t surprising that the City Master knew of Dale’s dealings with the Guild Master of Calimala. However, the fact that the Shadow Court, the continent’s foremost assassin organization, had pledged loyalty to Dale was another matter entirely.
“Did you plant a spy within the Shadow Court?”
“Of course not,” the City Master replied.
“I just know that the ‘Shadow Church’ has a long-standing connection with Saxon’s underworld.”
”…Once the deal is done, the Drowned King won’t let you live.”
“I’m aware of that too,” the City Master laughed as if it were someone else’s problem.
“I know a lot of things.”
There it was again.
“That the Heart of the Drowned King will fall into Saxon’s hands, witnessed by the Empire, the Red Tower, and Lancaster’s envoy… and what will happen afterward.”
As he spoke, the City Master pulled something from a drawer in the table. It was the ledger of Guild City.
“I assume Lord Dale desires this ledger to understand the happenings across the continent.”
”…”
“Have you ever considered this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Suppose there exists a ledger that records all events in this world, and a ‘demon’ who can predict the world’s movements based on it.”
An omniscient demon.
“Foreseeing all future events wouldn’t be impossible.”
“Laplace’s Demon…”
A being that knows the exact position and momentum of every atom in the universe.
“What exactly are you?”
“Oh, I’m just a mere merchant,” the City Master smiled slyly from behind the “Laughing Man” mask.
“Just a merchant who knows too much.”
“Surely not.”
“But knowing doesn’t necessarily change anything.”
The City Master continued calmly.
“Even my impending death is no exception.”
With the Heart of the Drowned King traded, the Drowned King wouldn’t spare the City Master.
“When the current City Master dies, Guild City is required to appoint the guild master with the next highest votes as the successor.”
The City Master spoke, pulling a stiletto from the drawer, its blade gleaming coldly.
“Six guild masters voted for me, and I gave one vote to the ‘Guild Master of Calimala.’”
”…!”
Simultaneously, the City Master slashed the stiletto across his wrist.
Dale gasped.
“This world is already determined, and no one can change it.”
Blood gushed from the severed artery.
“We are merely puppets of fate.”
Turning away from the “Laughing Man” mask, the City Master spoke.
“Just as Lord Dale was once a ‘puppet of the Empire.’”
”…!”
Dale’s face was a mask of shock. The City Master continued, unfazed.
“And there’s nothing more tedious than a story with a known ending.”
“What is that ending?”
“That’s a trade secret.”
The “Laughing Man” smiled slyly.
──Those were his last words.
As life ebbed away, the City Master’s body slumped over the table. Before him, Dale remained silent to the end.
With the Shadow Court under his control, the Guild Master of Calimala became the City Master, following the “Laughing Man’s” choice to end his life before Dale.
The City Master died, but the mechanisms he set in place proved Dale’s innocence in the Shadow Court.
“As I promised.”
Before the new leader of Guild City, Dale spoke.
“I have fulfilled my promise.”
The promise to place him in the City Master’s seat.
“Now it’s time for the Guild Master of Calimala, and the City Master, to fulfill your promise.”
A mutual agreement. In exchange for placing him as City Master, the promise to share the heart of Guild City… the City Master’s ledger.
The ‘Black Prince’ had kept his promise, in a way the Guild Master of Calimala could never have imagined.
Or even wanted to imagine.
”…Understood.”
Thus, the decisions the City Master could make from his position were limited.
In the hideout of the Shadow Court, unaffiliated with any city in Guild City territory.
“Damn,” Master Baro cursed, downing a beer.
“Nothing tastes better than a beer after wrapping up a shitstorm.”
The storm that had turned Guild City into chaos had passed, and a new order had emerged.
Officially, the Guild Master of Calimala sat at the helm of Guild City, but the true ruler stood elsewhere.
“O black apostle who will extinguish the world’s last flame and snuff out the final light.”
Before him, the Shadow Saint, her eyes covered with black bandages, spoke.
Kneeling before the ‘Black Prince’ of Saxon, with the loyalty of the continent’s foremost assassin organization, the Shadow Court.
“Please, bring down the Empire of fire and light, and lead us into the Empire of shadows.”
As she spoke, the ‘Lord of Shadows’ stood there, true to his name.
A crushing sense of defeat weighed heavily on Ray Eurys’s heart.
He had promised his father to step out of the shadows and reveal himself to the world. But when he finally did, it was Saxon’s “Black Prince” who brought him down.
As the heir to a great lineage, the humiliation was unbearable. And the incident at the Black Market was no exception.
Faced with the overwhelming power of the “Ferryman,” Ray Eurys realized just how much of a frog in a well he had been.
Now, he found himself in the world beyond the well.
A broken sword lay before Mikhail Lancaster.
The Bloodflower Sword. A blade like a crimson whip.
He recalled the sword the “Black Prince” had wielded at the fight club that day.
It was overwhelming, like facing a warrior greater than the Seven Swords of the Continent. Even though the “Avatar” hadn’t used his full strength, neither had his opponent. A mage of such talent would surely have unleashed the “World of Thought.”
He knew instinctively.
This sword would never reach the “Black Prince.” Not with his current approach. He couldn’t surpass that monster this way.
Mikhail, hailed as the empire’s unmatched talent in swordsmanship, had been defeated by a child a decade younger, a mage, not even a knight.
Yet, that defeat did not break Mikhail’s spirit. Instead, it ignited a fire in the void within him.
Saxon’s Dale. A formidable rival he must overcome with all the wonder he could muster.
Resolute, Mikhail Lancaster placed his hand on the hilt at his waist. It was an ordinary knight’s sword, devoid of any distinguishing features.
Not long after, Saxon’s “Black Prince” safely left Guild City and returned to the Saxon Duchy.
He returned with unimaginable spoils, things the Duke of Saxon could never have dreamed of.