Episode 160
At the pinnacle of the Empire stood the five great mages, with the Black Tower Master at their helm.
Yet, opposing him was a force shrouded in even greater darkness—the master of the enigmatic ‘Shadow Tower.’
The Immortal Duke, Frederick.
When he called Dale a ‘usurper,’ it wasn’t entirely without reason.
After all, it was Frederick himself who had sacrificed his daughter to pen the ‘Book of the Black Goat,’ summoning the dark mother goddess into this world.
Dale’s rise to the title of Shadow Lord was only possible because he had seized the ‘Book of the Black Goat’ with Saxon’s blood.
From Frederick’s perspective, calling Dale’s actions a ‘usurpation’ had its own justification.
Another Saxon, another Shadow Lord.
“They can’t even begin to imagine the true rulers behind the Empire,” mused Kiara, the Empire’s fifth princess and sorceress of the Blue Tower.
Officially, the Empire had unified the continent under one emperor and one nation.
But the silent ‘lords’ behind the Empire’s grand facade thought otherwise.
The Lords of Fire and Blood, Light and Heaven, and even the ‘Lord of Darkness and Death’ ruling the Saxon Duchy were no exceptions.
In the clash between gold and shadow, nameless kings ruled their territories. Some claimed to be their champions, while others harbored ambitions to ascend the throne themselves.
This was the reality of the world, and it was no different here.
The very existence of two empires, two lords of gold and shadow, proved the presence of a singular throne between them.
The Black and Gold Throne.
Thus, what unfolded was undeniably a battle of kings.
The Lord of Darkness and Death, the Black Duke, harbored no hidden malice towards the other Shadow Lord to whom he owed allegiance.
His actions were not driven by personal ambition or desire. Yet, it changed nothing.
Six wings unfurled like those of a seraph, but they were as dark and ominous as a raven’s feathers.
Flap!
A few ravens took flight from behind the Black Duke.
Simultaneously, tendrils erupted from beneath the Immortal Duke, surging towards the Black Duke.
Swoosh!
These tendrils were many times more numerous than those that had once overwhelmed Dale’s sword and armor.
Amidst this overwhelming force, the continent’s greatest dark mage spoke.
“Nevermore.”
A vortex of darkness swirled beneath him, and the Immortal Duke’s tendrils vanished.
At the same time, a flock of ravens filled the sky, swooping down on the Immortal Duke like in Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds.”
A mass of crows darkened the twilight sky.
“Birds that herald death,” Frederick chuckled as he watched the ravens descend upon him.
In an instant, countless ravens clung to him, pecking at his flesh.
They tore at his skin, delved into his innards, and pecked at his empty eyes, cawing as they feasted.
When the ravens finally took flight, all that remained was the skeleton of a young boy.
Simultaneously, the shadow cast by the skeleton slithered like a snake, racing towards the Black Duke.
The shadow engulfed him from foot to head, consuming his body and shedding its ‘shadow’ like a snake’s skin.
The shadow peeled away, revealing not the Black Duke, but the Immortal Duke, Frederick.
No longer a mere boy, but a man as youthful as the Black Duke.
Meanwhile, the ravens gathered around the skeletal remains of the boy, carrying pieces of Frederick’s flesh, blood, and bone in their beaks.
They deposited them on the boy’s remains, and the flesh, blood, and bone began to merge and reform.
The boy rose.
He was not Frederick, but a young boy who bore a striking resemblance to Dale’s father, the Duke of Saxon.
At the same time, Frederick’s body, having stolen the Duke’s age, began to age rapidly, as if time were sped up a thousandfold. Wrinkles formed, vitality drained, and he shriveled like an Egyptian mummy.
Similarly, the Duke’s ‘age,’ stolen by Frederick, began to reverse. From twelve to five, from five to an infant just months old.
Time itself seemed to rewind.
The scene of their ages accelerating and reversing played out in a chaotic dance.
The Black Duke, now reduced to a crawling infant, regressed further until he was a helpless newborn, wailing.
Meanwhile, Frederick’s body, preserved like an Egyptian mummy, continued to wither.
“The immature brain of a fetus isn’t suited for thought,” Frederick finally smiled, his body withered like a mummy.
He looked at Dale’s father, now a crying baby.
“The head of the Saxon family, the pinnacle of the Black Tower, reduced to this?”
“Father…!”
Dale gasped in shock. At the same time, shadows began to swirl beneath Frederick’s feet.
As if it were nothing to snuff out the life of a mere infant.
──But faster than that, a raven swooped down and snatched the ‘infant Black Duke’ in its talons.
Even as the raven flew, evading Frederick’s shadows, the infant Black Duke continued to regress.
From infant to fetus, to something less than life itself, the raven swallowed him whole.
It swallowed him, then laid an egg.
The egg cracked open, revealing the infant Black Duke once more.
But this time, his body did not regress. Instead, it grew rapidly, as if time were sped up a hundredfold.
He regained the form of a young boy, like Frederick had once been, and lifted his head.
Frederick, too, having aged, regained the youth he had when he first stole the Black Duke’s body.
They were beings who could steal each other’s bodies, reversing the hands of life and death at will.
The Saxon family’s battle to uncover the truth beyond death.
There was no overwhelming clash like those of the so-called ‘unmatched warriors.’
If they wished, they could easily summon an army to engulf the entire continent.
As the continent’s greatest necromancer and shadow mage.
But they did not.
They merely wielded the truth of life and death as their weapon, clashing ideologies.
In the Saxon way, always seeking the truth beyond death.
“Even if it’s a fake, it seems the Saxon blood can’t be deceived,” the Immortal Duke, the progenitor of Saxon, smiled with satisfaction. As if the madness and turmoil from before were mere illusions.
Having stolen the Black Duke’s body and cloaked himself in its presence, he became a man of fitting majesty.
In contrast, the Black Duke, now a boy, seemed more like Dale’s younger brother, stripped of his usual intimidation.
The man, the Immortal Duke Frederick, turned to Dale.
“This child, too, is your descendant, bearing Saxon blood.”
The Black Duke, in the body of a young boy, blocked Dale’s path. His voice was that of a prepubescent child.
“And a usurper who has stolen my blood and ideology.”
“It was ‘her’ will that chose Dale,” the Black Duke replied, invoking the ‘Book of the Black Goat.’
Frederick’s expression faltered once more.
“That young usurper took our ancient dark mother and my daughter.”
“No, that’s not true.”
At that moment, Dale finally spoke.
“When the dark mother and young Shub were trapped in the White Tower’s hell, it was I who reached out to her.”
”…”
“When you chose eternal stagnation in the northern darkness, I willingly walked into the White Tower’s hell to carry on Saxon’s legacy.”
“Child, what do you know of ‘our’ decisions to speak so boldly?”
“The old fades away, and the new takes its place. That’s the way of the world,” Dale replied.
“The Shadow Throne is no exception, old Shadow King.”
Once again, Frederick’s expression darkened with malice. And in the body of the Duke of Saxon, he exuded an incomparable aura of intimidation.
It was at that moment.
At last, the silence was broken as Shub, standing beside Dale, revealed herself to the Immortal Artisan. She appeared in the form of the young girl he remembered.
“A-ah… Lize!”
The Immortal Artisan’s expression softened with the same tenderness Duke Saxon had when he looked at his daughter, Lize.
Yet, it was this very Immortal Artisan, Frederick, who had sacrificed his own daughter, Lize, to write the grimoire, The Book of the Black Goat. The fatherly demeanor he now displayed only filled Dale with disgust.
─ Why won’t you step aside?
Shub spoke, and the Immortal Artisan swallowed hard.
─ I love you, brother. Your world and your solitude are irresistibly endearing. That’s why I want to stay by your side. I can’t bear not to see more of the humanity you reveal.
Shub, or rather, the consciousness of Lize, the daughter Frederick had once offered as a sacrifice.
─ I don’t want to return to your side.
Lize declared.
─ I am not your possession.
“A-ah…”
Frederick let out a weak laugh at Lize’s words. It started small but grew louder, turning into a mad, sobbing laughter.
Was another battle about to begin? Dale held his breath, watching him closely.
But just then, the dark landscape that enveloped them began to fade. The twilight cast by the Black Sphere also vanished.
In its place was the scene of the two armies, the church and Saxon’s forces, clashing at the edge of the Demon King’s domain.
Dale gasped, but Frederick, the Immortal Artisan, was nowhere to be seen.
Only Dale’s father, Duke Saxon, stood there.
“Father.”
He appeared as a twelve-year-old boy, looking as if he could be Dale’s fifteen-year-old brother.
“That body…”
“Don’t worry, reversing it won’t be difficult.”
Duke Saxon, now smaller than Dale, reassured him.
“It will just take some time.”
Faced with this unexpected turn of events, Dale swallowed a bitter smile.
It was a smile that seemed far too mature for his age.