Episode 140
“How long do you plan to stick to me like a stalker?”
In the dim light of the labyrinth, a fiery red-haired beauty raised her voice sharply.
“Ha! What a feisty young lady. It’s not my fault our paths just happen to cross.”
“Then, by all means, please go ahead and lead the way.”
“Such a temper! I’m just taking my time, why the fuss?”
“Oh, is that so?”
As she spoke, red magic began to flare up at her feet.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, a crimson blaze lit up the labyrinth, a hellish fire that would be difficult for even a seasoned mage or knight to withstand.
Swish.
“Whoa, that was close.”
But the adventurer known as “Faceless” was nowhere to be seen amidst the swirling flames. In an instant, he had moved behind her, pressing a blood-red blade to her neck, all traces of humor gone from his voice.
“Do you still think this is some backyard playhouse?”
”…”
“The ashes of those who crossed you are grinding their teeth in hell. You should value that pretty neck of yours.”
“You certainly have a lot to say for someone with a mouth.”
“Isn’t that what a mouth is for?”
For a moment, Lady Scarlet’s lips curled, revealing sharp fangs. The liquid coursing through her veins began to stir, a power neither knightly aura nor magical energy, but something else entirely.
“A disgrace to knighthood, aren’t you ashamed?”
But her anger was fleeting. With a facade of calm, Lady Scarlet retorted.
“Ha! Do you think chivalry matters to someone who’s given up being a knight?”
Lady Scarlet, the Red Witch. Few could provoke her and walk away unscathed. And the master of the deadly sword, Baro, was one of those few.
There was no better candidate to keep an eye on the uncontrollable Red Witch.
Meanwhile, at the heart of the labyrinth city, in the manor of Viscount Sachsen.
Baro, disguised as “Faceless,” was tasked with monitoring Lady Scarlet, while Dale listened to reports from the labyrinth and the demon realm.
“The Purifiers of the Red Tower have dealt with the ghoul threat to the pioneer monks of Sito.”
“The winter crop yield from the pioneer farmers has exceeded expectations.”
“Patrols have been strengthened in the pioneer areas with shifts of Rose Cross and Night Raven knights.”
The open policy, built on the power of the Sachsen family by Dale’s father, the Black Duke, was progressing smoothly. Amidst the artifact rush, the darkness of the demon realm was slowly lifting, revealing the lands beyond.
Conquering this land wouldn’t happen overnight. Even as Dale, at thirteen, became the ruler of the demon realm, and now approaching his fifteenth birthday, the unknown lands at the edge of the demon realm remained silent.
The homeland of the Demon King and the demons, the dark lands beyond the northern demon realm. No one in the empire knew what lay hidden there.
The empire’s north is not the continent’s north. No one knows how vast the northern lands are or where they end. Even the existence of the “Anatolian Eastern Continent” across the sea is known.
What could be lying dormant in those lands that even the Demon King and the high-ranking demons, the “Shadow Sorcerers,” abandoned their homeland for a great migration?
The answer wouldn’t come easily. But until he found it, Dale’s duty as the ruler of the demon realm would not end.
Whoosh!
A single strike was blocked by the Shadow Lord’s avatar, and Sir Helmut Blackbear immediately followed with another blow.
Even as the swords clashed, Dale’s body continuously poured out magic, amplifying the avatar’s power.
Enhancing the body with magic is considered inefficient and pointless in this world. No matter how hard a mage tries, it can’t compare to the efficiency of aura.
But for Dale, who viewed his existence as a mechanical device, it was a different story.
The armor of dark blood, powered by three “generators” fused with red magic into a circle.
A mana circle purely for generating magic, the “Book of the Black Goat” rooted in his heart as a black source, and a thermal engine fused with red magic within his body. The storm of magic unleashed by these three power sources combined.
‘If I could fully unleash this power in the realm of thought, how far could I reach?’
If Dale could merge the ultimate forms of sword and magic to 100% of his imagination, the power he would wield.
To achieve that, mastering the use of the avatar and red magic was essential.
Moreover, they weren’t alone in their training that day.
Two lady knights, who usually assisted Viscount Sachsen, were present.
Lady Shadow and Lady Black.
”…!”
Watching the clash of the two avatar users, Lady Black, Charlotte, swallowed hard.
The avatar, considered the pinnacle of knighthood. Charlotte was familiar with Sir Helmut Blackbear’s avatar. But what was the dark blood armor enveloping her lord?
It was a clash of titans, far beyond what Charlotte could hope to reach. A battle fought not with magic, but purely with swords.
‘The lord I must protect…’
It was Dale who recognized her talent as the daughter of the divine sword. It was Dale who told her that her sword would one day surpass his.
Yet, the lord she was meant to protect was drifting further away each day, to a realm beyond her reach.
Even Aurelia, who guarded the lord’s side, possessed an avatar. And whenever Dale undertook a mission, it was Lady Shadow who protected him from the shadows.
Not Charlotte.
She wondered if there was any reason for her to remain in the Sachsen manor. Feeling the ground beneath her feet shrink, Charlotte bit her lip.
It was then.
Clang!
Sir Helmut’s strike was parried, and the Shadow Lord finally planted his sword into the ground.
“Charlotte.”
Dale called out to her.
“It’s your turn now.”
“My turn…?”
Charlotte swallowed at the unexpected words.
“Draw your sword.”
“Ah, okay.”
Nodding, Charlotte quickly reached for her waist. She drew her sword, enveloped in a pitch-black aura blade.
An aura knight wielding the black sword of Sachsen. Her level was already far beyond what could be achieved at her age.
Yet, compared to Aurelia or Dale, she was a frog in a well. Every time she sparred with Aurelia, she felt it more acutely.
Being the daughter of the divine sword didn’t change anything. In this absurd world, the bloodline flowing through Charlotte was merely a means to fulfill the “desire of survival.”
At that moment, the Shadow Lord’s avatar charged at her.
It was a speed she couldn’t even imagine, and Charlotte’s black sword belatedly met Dale’s magic sword.
Clang!
With a single strike, Charlotte’s sword spun helplessly through the air and embedded itself in the ground.
”…Ah.”
A sword filled with confusion.
“Are you surprised by my avatar?”
“I was just a little shaken.”
Dale asked, and Charlotte hesitated before nodding.
“But I can’t hide it from the swords meant to protect me.”
”…I know.”
You’re not weak enough to need my protection. Unable to voice the thought, Charlotte smiled bitterly. She adjusted her grip on the sword, aiming for the distant figure she could no longer reach.
She steadied her mind and focused her consciousness on the tip of the blade.
To get even a little closer to him.
The world is vast. And the follow-up reports of the “War of the Roses” from afar don’t reach the demon realm of Sachsen overnight.
Thus, the official news of the Holy Sword’s death arrived around that time.
Defeated by the “Black Prince” in the First War of the Roses and captured, later rescued by Philip, but… the Holy Sword was already broken, and he succumbed to his fatal wounds shortly after the Second War of the Roses ended.
Dale had deliberately manipulated the timing of the news, using the York family to control and delay the spread of the death announcement.
After the death of the Holy Sword and Mikhail Lancaster, the empire braced itself for the inevitable upheaval that would follow.
The moment it was discovered that the sacred relic of the first White Tower Master had been destroyed, chaos erupted within the White Tower. When it became known that the culprit was the “Black Prince,” the entire church was thrown into a frenzy.
It was around this time that Charlotte Orhart heard the news about the Holy Sword.
In the early hours of that morning, a knock echoed through Dale’s bedroom.
Dale sat up abruptly, holding his breath.
“Dale.”
The voice that followed wasn’t the one he had imagined. It wasn’t Sepia, but rather his knight, Charlotte. Only then did the absence of Sepia’s presence grip Dale’s heart.
“Come in.”
Swallowing his disappointment, Dale spoke with a calm demeanor. Charlotte, dressed in black nightwear, entered the room. Dale adjusted his own attire as he greeted her.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Thank you.”
Charlotte hesitated, offering a smile that was filled with awkwardness.
“Is there something you want to talk about?”
”…”
Dale asked, but Charlotte remained silent. After a moment, she finally spoke.
“I heard the Holy Sword is dead.”
“They say he died in his own domain after the war ended.”
Dale feigned indifference.
“Did you really fight him yourself?”
Dale nodded silently.
“Even with his severe injuries, I never thought he would actually die.”
“I see.”
Another lie. Dale’s whispered words to Charlotte.
It was then that Dale’s gaze inadvertently shifted, landing on the sword leaning against the wall beside his bed.
It was Peacemaker, the cherished sword of the hero who had once defeated her father.