Episode 125
“What kind of relics could these be?”

The number wasn’t large, but each item was extraordinary.

“That’s Thor’s Wrath, isn’t it? I thought it was the heirloom of the Demon Sword Maga. How is it here? And the Spear of the Abyss? I remember how many Union knights died by that spear…”

Famous relics lined the shelves—some he’d never even heard of, yet all seemed remarkable.

“This ring expands the power of one’s will. Simply put, it amplifies the strength of your intent by several dimensions, while cutting mana consumption in half.”

Merian explained each item in turn, all boasting incredible effects.

But the more Christian examined the relics, the more conflicted his expression became.

‘These are all great, but almost none are suitable for me.’

Most were high-tier relics requiring mastery at the six-star level or above.

‘No, there has to be something fitting for me. The Nordian wouldn’t have opened the vault without knowing my level.’

Sure enough, Christian soon found an item that matched his abilities: a blood-red demon sword.

Nordian chuckled as he explained.

“This is the Predator, a demon sword. When it drinks the blood of enemies, it restores the wielder’s stamina and boosts various physical abilities. It’ll be pretty helpful.”

“Pretty helpful” was an understatement.

No matter how exhausted he was, the more enemies he cut down, the more strength he regained.

He didn’t know what kind of numerically disadvantaged battles awaited him at Gold Cross, but this sword would be a tremendous asset.

Plus, it would compensate for Christian’s lacking basic physical abilities—an invaluable tool.

“…May I look around a bit more?”

“Hmm? At your current level, there’s nothing more suitable than this.”

Nordian’s voice seemed to hope Christian would choose the Predator.

But Christian shook his head.

“I want to look once more.”

‘Something about it doesn’t quite draw me in.’ It was a gut feeling.

He felt as if something else was calling to him.

Then—

“…What’s this?”

Christian froze, staring at a seemingly ordinary sword lying discarded in a corner like junk.

It gave off no aura whatsoever.

“That’s a demon sword bestowed by His Majesty the Demon Emperor to our main family 200 years ago. We keep it as a treasure because it came from the Emperor himself, but it’s nothing special. It has no real use, so the Predator is far better than that old scrap.”

Nordian said bluntly.

But Christian couldn’t take his eyes off the sword.

His pupils trembled faintly, unnoticed by anyone.

‘No way. Why is this sword here?’

Christian knew exactly what it was.

It was impossible not to.

Alongside the legendary hero’s holy sword Levangel, it was one of the most famous blades of the Age of Ruin.

The Star-Slaying Sword.

The Abyssal Demon Sword, Andril.

It was the sword wielded by the Bloodthirsty Demon King, Idrinne.

‘I always wondered where the demon sword came from. To think it was kept here in the Dark Maga’s vault.’

His heart pounded.

He pictured the Bloodthirsty Demon King swinging Andril—a true harbinger of disaster.

She had even cut down a celestial constellation that descended to the surface with this sword.

‘Of course, I can’t unleash that kind of power now.’

To fully unseal Andril and reveal its true form, one had to reach at least nine stars.

That was why the Dark Maga members hadn’t recognized the sword’s true value until now.

For Christian’s current level, it was a distant dream.

“I’ll take this sword.”

‘It’s not useless to me now.’ In fact, depending on how he used it, it could unleash power surpassing any other demon sword.

‘Even sealed, Andril’s inherent immortality remains. That alone makes it as valuable as any demon sword.’

And there was more.

As he grew stronger, he could interfere with the seal and unlock other hidden attributes within Andril.

If he could even partially manifest the sword’s “Perfection” attribute, it would be overwhelmingly powerful.

Unlocking its “Infinity” attribute could bring about endless transformations.

He was essentially acquiring the ultimate weapon.

Yet Nordian and Merian reacted with unease.

“You want that scrap? Why?”

“…It holds great meaning to wield a weapon bestowed by His Majesty the Demon Emperor to punish those despicable Union scum. I’m sure the Emperor would be pleased to hear that.”

“That’s a typical unlucky excuse from you, but the Predator is still better than that junk.”

“…I’m sorry. I choose this sword.”

When Christian insisted, Nordian narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

Merian looked worried, as if Nordian might lose his temper.

“Such a stubborn fool. Fine, take the Predator with you as well.”

“Master?”

Merian’s eyes widened in surprise.

“By law, only one relic may be taken out of the family vault at a time…”

“What does that matter? I gave permission. I am the master, and my word is law.”

Nordian frowned but continued.

“However, the Predator is only loaned for this mission. Understood?”

Even a one-time loan was a huge deal.

More importantly, Christian was a genius.

By using the Predator, he might even learn some of the sword’s embedded spells.

It was a great favor to Christian.

“Thank you. I will make sure to deliver a proper blow to those Gold Cross bastards, in accordance with your wishes.”

Nordian’s voice remained gruff.

“That’s enough. Go now.”

As Nordian waved his hand, the scene shifted, and Christian vanished from the vault in a flash.

Left alone, Merian looked at Nordian with a puzzled expression.

“Why do you look at me like that?”

“Nothing. Just unexpected.”

It was unlike Nordian’s usual demeanor.

He seemed to feel the same, pursing his lips in displeasure.

Then he spoke unexpectedly.

“Merian, do you know why I stopped Langham from succeeding as the family head?”

“Because he couldn’t break through the eight-star barrier, right?”

Among the twelve great magical families, there was an unspoken rule: the family head must be an eight-star demon lord.

Until now, except in rare cases, no one below eight stars had ever become head of a great family.

“So, we planned to appoint a talented successor for the next generation…”

“When?!” Merian scoffed.

“My remaining days are few. My lifespan has long since run out, and even with forbidden elixirs, I have less than two years left.”

Two years was an overly generous estimate.

The actual time left was likely much shorter.

It was impossible for the next generation to reach eight stars within that time.

“Then why?”

“I deliberately pushed Langham into a corner.”

“!!”

“I wanted him to hate and despise me for his despair, to overcome his limits through that hatred. So he would surpass me, kill me, and take the family head’s place with his own hands.”

That was Nordian’s true intention.

There was no other way for the Dark Maga to survive the terrible storm ahead.

“But lately, I’ve been thinking differently.”

Nordian spoke slowly, as if swallowing his words.

“Christian.”

“!!”

“I want to place my hopes on him.”

Even Nordian couldn’t fully understand this feeling.

No matter how much of a genius Christian was, the gap between him and Langham was like heaven and earth.

It was absurd to think Christian could surpass Langham before Nordian’s time ran out.

“Still, I want Christian to surpass Langham.”

Nordian’s gaze drifted into the distance, as if reaching toward an unseen future.

“I want to see Christian become the master of this Dark Maga.”

Without a doubt, he would be the greatest master the family had ever seen.

The Dark Maga would shine brilliantly in the depths of darkness.

---

Back at his quarters, Christian tried to enjoy a rare moment of rest—but it didn’t last.

No sooner had he returned than Nordian summoned him to a separate building for instruction.

‘Damn it, why send me back if you were just going to keep teaching me? You might as well have taught me there.’

But he couldn’t protest.

Nordian was teaching him the “visions” of dark magic.

Visions: secret techniques passed down only through direct lineage that maximize the power of dark magic.

“Have you listened carefully? There’s no time, so I’ll just give you the incantations for now. Even you will find it hard to understand immediately, so memorize them and ponder their meaning when you have time…”

‘Hmm, I get the gist.’ Christian scratched his head.

Even with visions, a top teacher’s clear explanations made it understandable. If he couldn’t grasp it, he wouldn’t be a genius.

When he asked about a few vague points, his questions pierced the core of the teachings, earning shocked looks from Nordian and Merian.

Well, he was used to those looks.

Anyway, after this brief crash course, he returned to his room.

He planned to relax for the little time left.

‘Damn it, I still have to choose the members of the delegation going with me.’

By the way, there was an unspoken rule between the Magic Empire and the Union…

The envoy delegation was never to exceed three members, and it was customary to exclude any high-ranking officials above the 5-star level.

The reasons for these restrictions differed on each side. The Alliance had grown wary because their high-ranking mages sent as envoys kept attempting suicide assassinations against their own kings or ministers, which they found intolerable and had to prevent.

“On the other hand, our Mage Empire’s envoys kept having their heads chopped off by the Alliance, so we learned not to send anyone above 5-star rank.”

Either way, the rule was three people, all below 5-star.

In theory, it would have been fine to send Melin and Alos, both subordinates of Chris.

But there was a problem.

“Melin’s about to break through the 5-star barrier,” Chris thought, narrowing his eyes.

They often sparred together, and through those bouts, Chris had come to realize something important.

A critical stage.

“Melin, you’re sitting this one out.”

“But—”

“I know this is an important time. You need to enter seclusion and consolidate everything you’ve achieved so far.”

“That’s impossible!”

Melin shook her head in disbelief, but Chris was firm.

“It’s an order. You getting stronger helps me.”

With Melin out, Chris had to find another member.

“First, Alos is a definite pick.”

Alos looked pale and stammered, “I-I really shouldn’t go, hiccup, hiccup.”

He was utterly untrustworthy, but Chris figured even someone like him could be useful in some way, so he planned to bring him along.

“Now, who else among the 4-star elite mages is worth taking…”

As Chris pondered, the door to the quarters suddenly slid open.

A sullen voice spoke up.

“I’ll go.”

“…You?”

Chris repeated, a bit dumbfounded.

It was Jupien.