Episode 88
The Alliance’s Most Prestigious Family.
The renowned swordsmanship house, the Maiers.
It was there that the name “Chris” had been passed along.
For reference, the warrior Evan’s family also hailed from this swordsmanship lineage.
The Mage Empire was situated right at the heart of the continent—more precisely, in the north-central region.
To its west lay the Holy Empire.
To the south, the Gold Cross.
And to the east, the Karn Empire.
These three colossal powers of the Alliance geographically surrounded the Mage Empire like a tightening noose.
Far to the southeast of the Mage Empire, nestled between the Gold Cross and the Karn Empire, was a dense forest.
This was the private forest of the swordsmanship house, Maier.
Strictly off-limits to outsiders.
Within this forbidden forest, a middle-aged man with a stern expression was making his way forward.
A superhuman who had reached the eighth star level, and the vice head of the swordsmanship house.
A formidable figure of noble status, counted among the strongest within the Alliance.
Yet his face was tense, as if preparing to meet someone difficult.
And rightly so.
The person he was about to see was the “Prophet.”
One of the great pillars holding the Alliance steady against the threat of the Mage Empire.
Deeper into the forest, an astonishing sight appeared.
A lake, shining crystal-clear and glass-like, without a trace of blue or green.
This was the “Glass Lake,” the swordsmanship house’s secret sanctuary where past, present, and future intertwined.
The Prophet lived in seclusion here.
[Have you come?]
“Yes, I have come at your summons.”
The vice head bowed respectfully to the voice that echoed from the air.
The Prophet’s form was unseen.
Because the Prophet constantly observed the future through his clairvoyance, he rarely appeared before others.
[A bad omen has arisen, so I called you.]
“!!”
A bad omen.
The vice head’s expression grew heavy.
[You know that a great calamity is about to befall us from the Mage Empire, don’t you?]
“Yes, I am well aware.”
The Prophet had long foretold the coming disaster.
But no one had heeded his warnings.
Peace had lasted too long.
Everyone had grown complacent.
“The Mage Empire’s power has long since surpassed the Alliance.”
While the Mage Empire quietly grew stronger from within, the Alliance was wasting away in reckless decadence.
If the Mage Empire weren’t divided by internal strife, the world would have already fallen into the hands of the demons.
[I have glimpsed a more specific future. Who within the Mage Empire will bring about the world’s destruction. Where the ‘Great Darkness’ originates.]
Originally, the Prophet had pointed to the Four Kings’ Castle.
He said the flames of terror would rise from there.
But recently—less than a year ago—the prophecy shifted.
It was true that the disaster would begin at the Four Kings’ Castle.
But the one who would truly bring about the world’s end was someone else.
The “Great Darkness.”
According to the Prophet’s clairvoyance, the world would eventually be destroyed by the hand of the “Great Darkness.”
“Where does this ‘Great Darkness’ reside?”
[The Dark Maga.]
“!!”
The vice head’s eyes widened in surprise.
An unexpected target.
“But isn’t the Dark Maga a place we don’t need to worry about much?”
Aside from the regional lord Nordian, there was no one of particular concern.
The Alliance’s view of the Dark Maga was that it was a family slowly declining from within.
[It is certain. The ‘Great Darkness’ is someone from the Dark Maga. In the near future, a new Demon Lord will arise from there.]
The vice head was shocked again.
“You mean a new Demon Lord will come from the Dark Maga?”
For nearly a hundred years, the Dark Maga had not produced a new Demon Lord.
“Who could it be?”
He pondered.
Regional lord Nordian? He was a person of interest, but his lifespan was nearly over.
“Then perhaps the acting lord, Marquis Langham, or the foremost of the collateral branch, Marquis Schupen?”
Aside from the regional lord, these were the Dark Maga’s strongest.
But neither seemed fit to become a Demon Lord.
“The next generation of heirs? But aren’t they all too young?”
The Prophet had said the Demon Lord would arise in the “near future.”
He couldn’t guess who it might be.
“Were you able to see who it is?”
[I could not see beyond that. It was as if someone great was deliberately blocking my vision.]
“Blocking?”
The vice head’s face darkened.
Only two kinds of beings could artificially block clairvoyance: the Celestial Order or demons.
This meant that the “Great Darkness” the Prophet spoke of was being watched by both Heaven and Gehenna.
[However, there is a clue.]
“What is it?”
[A signal came through the Glass Lake. Information about a man named Christian van Barren Kazaar.]
The vice head looked puzzled.
“Van Barren… that’s the Dark Maga’s name.”
But the name Christian didn’t ring a bell.
“Oh, wasn’t he the young heir who recently came of age? I heard he was once a reckless youth but reformed.”
He vaguely recalled a report he had heard in passing.
“I remember the name because it sounded similar to the cursed prince of the Gold Cross.”
The cursed prince.
A child born of the most noble bloodlines combined.
A seed conceived from the highest of lineages.
Yet from birth, he was branded as the seed of a demon and suffered all manner of persecution.
“In the end, he died recently. Now that I think about it, it’s strange. The moment Christian van Barren Kazaar changed coincides with the cursed prince’s sudden death. Probably just a coincidence.”
Anyway, as the vice head who gathered all the world’s intelligence, he had heard the name Christian van Barren Kazaar, but no one else in the Alliance knew it.
[He achieved great feats in the southern Mage Kingdom’s secret underground garden. Achievements impossible for his age.]
“Are you saying he might be the ‘Great Darkness’? But isn’t he too young? I heard he’s only about sixteen.”
A minor who hadn’t even undergone his coming-of-age ceremony.
The Prophet answered hesitantly.
[It’s not certain. This is only speculation based on the information sent through the Glass Lake. At such a young age, it’s unlikely.]
There were only two things certain about the “Great Darkness.”
That he was from the Dark Maga.
And that in the near future—within five to ten years at most—he would become the Demon Lord.
[Still, it would be wise to check on this darkness called Christian. I have a bad feeling.]
The vice head bowed.
“I will do so.”
After ending his meeting with the Prophet, the vice head left the Glass Lake, deep in thought.
“This is troublesome. Christian van Barren Kazaar.”
Contrary to the Prophet’s speculation, he judged there was no chance Christian was the subject of the prophecy.
He was simply too young.
“He only recently reached the third star level. A genius, yes, but becoming a Demon Lord? Impossible.”
Maybe in the distant future—decades from now.
But certainly not in the near future the Prophet spoke of.
“Still, I can’t ignore the investigation.”
Since the Prophet had ordered it, it had to be done.
The problem was how dangerous this mission was.
“He’s a scion of the Dark Maga.”
Though the family was said to be declining without new superpowers emerging, the Dark Maga’s strength was by no means weak.
The Dark Maga’s forces were roughly equivalent to several combined kingdoms of the Alliance.
“Whoever takes this mission will almost certainly lose their life.”
He hesitated to waste the family’s strength on such a low-probability task.
“Who should I send? Someone skilled enough to complete the mission, but whose death wouldn’t be a great loss…”
The perfect candidate came to mind immediately.
Talented, but—
Better off dead for the sake of the swordsmanship house.
“Send for that child.”
The subordinate understood and soon brought forth a young man.
A sturdy-looking youth, but his eyes were sunken and lifeless.
“Did you call, uncle?”
“Yes. I have a task for you.”
“Command me as you will. I am but the family’s shadow.”
His voice was tinged with self-mockery.
Indeed, he was the swordsmanship house’s shadow.
One who handled the family’s dirty work, never stepping into the light.
Though his bloodline was never suited to such a role, cruel fate had led him to tragedy.
“Investigate this Christian van Barren Kazaar.”
“Van Barren… that means the Dark Maga?”
Did he realize he was being sent to his death?
The young man was silent for a moment.
The vice head, feeling apologetic, added an explanation.
“This is an important mission ordered by the Prophet. It’s to prevent the world’s impending destruction.”
“…I see.”
“Yes.”
The vice head briefly recounted his conversation with the Prophet.
That a being called the “Great Darkness” would one day destroy the world, and that this child Christian might be that “Great Darkness.”
“So, if possible, eliminate him.”
“……”
Regardless of the reason, to be ordered to kill someone from the Dark Maga was tantamount to a death sentence.
But the young man nodded resignedly.
“I will obey your command.”
“Good. Depart immediately.”
After parting ways with the vice head, the young man looked up at the sky.
The cold, piercing moonlight stabbed his eyes.
“This is where my life ends. At least I can take solace in dying for a cause that serves the world.”
He thought bitterly.
And so, the man—the swordsmanship house’s shadow, Evan de Maier—set off for the Dark Maga.
He would one day be called a hero.
Meanwhile, at that time, Chris and his companions who had attended the heir’s conference found themselves in grave trouble.
“Ughk!”
“Ughk!”
Everyone was clutching the chamber pot, vomiting.
Jupien, Marisa, Kashmir—every single one of them.
They looked like they’d been poisoned by some kind of bacterial toxin.
The only one who wasn’t sick was Chris.
“…Well, no wonder, considering how much they drank.”
Chris wore a bewildered expression.
Here’s how it all went down.
Originally, Chris had planned to head straight back to the Dark Mage Tower.
But the others hesitated.
“Um… are we really going to part ways just like this? We haven’t even properly thanked Prince Christian.”
“Hmph. It’s not that I’m sad to see you go. I just feel like we didn’t finish the prince’s summit properly, so I want to complete the mission.”
“I don’t mind staying.”
In other words, they wanted a second round… an after-party!
“…This isn’t some dreamland of magic and hope. What kind of after-party are you talking about?”
Still, their point wasn’t without merit.
The prince’s summit was, after all, meant to build camaraderie. If everyone got along well during the talks, it was common to have an after-party.
“Alright, fine. Let’s do the after-party.”
Chris agreed.
Truth be told, he had ulterior motives.
“This is my chance to drink too! Beer, whiskey, wine! They’re all done for! I’m going to drink until I’m completely wasted!”
But yeah, right.