Episode 182
As the Shadow Lord, he had secured the allegiance of two elven lords and the Blue Tower. Finally, the “Black Prince” of Saxon returned to his domain, accompanied by the elf Sephia, who had long pledged her loyalty to the Saxon family.
That day, in a chamber of the Saxon ducal castle, the Duke awaited his son’s return. He was no stranger to the icy chill that seeped from Dale’s very being.
”…”
A heavy, unsettling silence filled the room.
“My son,” the Duke finally spoke, breaking the silence.
“Yes, Father.”
“Is it not painful?”
Dale did not answer immediately, choosing instead to remain silent. Despite everything, to the Duke, Dale was still his son—a part of the family he had built after abandoning the life of a monster, alongside his young sister, Lize.
Yet, the “Black Prince” had willingly embraced the role of Shadow Lord, harboring ancient darkness and the chill of doom within his body. He understood all too well what that entailed.
”…I see.”
The Duke forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant.
“But if ever the burden becomes too much to bear, do not hesitate to tell me.”
”…”
“Am I not your father?”
Seeing the concern etched on his father’s face, Dale responded with a gentle smile.
“The burdens I carry are not mine alone.”
Since gaining a second life with the Saxon family, Dale had never stood alone. He had the support of his father, the Duke, Sir Helmut, Sephia, and countless others who had helped him along the way.
“You have always shared in my burdens, Father.”
And so, nothing would change. Their brief conversation ended there.
Soon, Dale left the study, and the Duke turned to gaze out the window. The icy chill and twilight descended over the Saxon estate, but nothing in this frozen land could compare to the cold that coursed through his son’s veins.
The knowledge that he could do nothing but watch was an indescribable torment for a father.
“Brother!”
As soon as Dale stepped into the courtyard of the Saxon estate, young Lize greeted him with a bright smile.
“Hello, Lize. Have you been practicing your magic diligently while I was away?”
“Yes!”
Lize beamed and closed her eyes, focusing her consciousness on the flow of mana within her heart, extending her arm gently.
A swirl of icy energy spiraled around her arm, though it was too faint to form a proper spell.
“Wow, that’s a wonderful spell.”
Dale smiled and ruffled Lize’s hair, and she grinned proudly.
“Isn’t it pretty?”
“Yes, very pretty.”
“Then I’ll show you more!”
Lize manipulated the fragments of a circle, not yet a full first circle, and the mana began to shimmer like crystal, infused with the surrounding chill.
It wasn’t a spell, merely a byproduct of mana merging with the atmosphere. But who would expect more from a child? Certainly not the lethal military formulas designed for killing.
Seven-year-old Lize was not the “Black Prince,” once hailed as the empire’s greatest prodigy. And for Dale, that was a profound relief.
The frost Lize conjured spread out, casting a glow in the twilight.
“Your magic is truly beautiful,” Dale remarked, watching the scene with a bittersweet smile, all the while suppressing the apocalyptic frost raging within him.
“Thank you, Brother! I’ll work even harder!”
Lize tilted her head, puzzled by Dale’s smile, but she didn’t dwell on it and simply laughed.
It was true. So beautiful and pure that it was almost too much for Dale to bear.
“Lize,” he said, watching her.
“Yes, Brother?”
“You’ll become a wonderful magician.”
“Like you, Brother?”
“As I’ve said, I’m not as great a magician as you think.”
“That’s not true! Everyone in Saxon is proud of you! Father and Mother said so too! I want to grow up to be a great magician like you!”
Lize pouted, puffing out her cheeks, and Dale chuckled silently.
“Shall I tell you how I became so great?”
“Yes!”
Dale laughed and asked, and Lize nodded energetically.
“It’s because I had an excellent teacher.”
Dale turned to look behind him. There stood his former mentor, watching them from a distance.
But Sephia was no longer Dale’s teacher.
“Sephia!”
“Lize, you’ve grown into a fine young lady.”
“I’m so happy to see you again!”
Sephia, who was like family to the Saxons, smiled and patted Lize’s head, and Dale spoke.
“From now on, Sephia will teach you magic.”
“Wow!”
Lize beamed with the joy of a child.
“Let’s explore the path of magic together, shall we?”
Just as Sephia had once said to a young Dale, she now stood as the new mentor for young Lize.
“Ah, peace is the best thing in the world, isn’t it?”
At that moment, in the Shadow Tribunal housed within the Saxon estate.
“I can’t understand why these fools are so eager to wage war.”
Master Baro propped his feet on the table, sipping his beer, while the Shadow Saint smiled beside him.
“The struggle between gold and shadow will never end until the world’s end.”
Not as a lady of knights, but as a saint serving the goddess of shadows.
Yet, the Shadow Tribunal was not solely guarded by their assassins.
“It’s truly a cold place.”
A shadow with bronzed skin, hooded, stood there. They were the executors of the elven society, the mountain assassins.
Not those stationed at the empire’s borders, but those fulfilling their duties deep within the empire.
The Shadow Tribunal and the mountain assassins.
All of them claimed allegiance to the Shadow Lord, and it was not unusual for the mountain assassins to rely on the Saxon family’s power to operate within the empire.
“The climate isn’t familiar to dark elves, is it?”
The Shadow Lord spoke, and one of the mountain assassins knelt.
Alongside Master Baro and the Shadow Saint, the dual heads of the Shadow Tribunal, the tribunal’s assassins were present.
“In accordance with the ancient pact, as long as the elven kingdom pledges loyalty, I, as the Shadow Lord, will fulfill my duties for you.”
Dale spoke.
“Isn’t that right, the Blue Veil?”
In addition to the two organizations renowned for their covert operations, the final piece to unite them was present.
Blue butterflies fluttered.
“The Shadow Tribunal, the mountain assassins, and the web of the Blue Tower… We each have our missions, but there’s no reason we can’t cooperate for a common duty.”
Dale said.
─ The time has come. Our Blue Tower is ready to break the silence for the Shadow Lord.
A voice echoed from somewhere, and Dale nodded calmly.
“Integrating the organizations loyal to me into one, and establishing a comprehensive network across the empire, will be a monumental task.”
For instance, the Grand Tribunal, which claims to be the head of the Shadow Tribunal, doesn’t even have a grasp of the entire scale of their organization.
Operating as a decentralized guild of assassins, the “Minor Tribunals” regard human life as worth only a few gold coins. In a sense, they are akin to uncontrollable criminal organizations.
Thus, the task of unifying and commanding the scattered cells operating throughout the empire.
Furthermore, merging the mountain assassins, the Blue Tower’s web, and even the “Sunlit Web” scattered by the Guild City into one. The benefits this would bring to Dale were beyond contemplation.
Just as the Grave Guards, the Duke of Saxon’s elite guard, pledged their silent loyalty in the shadows.
“Ultimately, they will all become one cohesive intelligence organization, cooperating organically in both the light and the dark.”
Loyal only to the “Shadow Lord,” operating as the Grave Walkers.
“Haha, are you planning to become the king of the night?”
Master Baro laughed heartily, and Dale tilted his head with a smile.
“Why not?”
The journey had ended, and Dale had gained immeasurable things. It was time to embark on a new journey.
But the stage for this new journey was not the demon realm beyond the Saxon duchy or the scorching lands of the Far East.
It was the empire he so despised, its night streets and shadows.
In the empire’s night streets and shadows.
“Child, call upon the name of the goddess.”
The man’s voice was gentle, almost too kind. But to the boy listening, the man’s presence was nothing short of demonic.
In the shadows of the empire, an unfathomable darkness writhes.
The value of life is so low that no one even notices when a couple of city dwellers disappear. For Gilles de Rais, this was nothing short of paradise.
He had left the island of Britannia and joined the empire’s cult of demon worshippers some time ago.
With an abundance of materials in his laboratory and the cult’s achievements, the dark rituals were progressing rapidly.
There are no gods in this world. He realized this the day the saintly maiden burned and perished in the frozen lands of Saxony.
But the absence of gods does not necessarily mean the absence of demons.
“Just a little longer, my saintly maiden…”
There is no goddess of mercy and compassion in this world. Only the dark gods exist, and proving their existence was Gilles de Rais’s ultimate mission.
“The betrayal you once felt, the despair of a godless world… I, Gilles de Rais, will make the entire empire feel it keenly.”
As he drew a blade across the throat of a child who cried out for the goddess’s mercy, Gilles de Rais laughed in ecstasy.
Blood splattered violently.