Episode 172: A Multitude of Colors (1)
Rubyia’s eyes began to tremble as she stared intently at Demian.
“Wh-who would believe such lies?”
Finally, Rubyia spoke, fiercely denying his claim.
“I-I know all of his attendants! But I’ve never seen you before!”
“That’s because I’m only assigned to secret missions. The only one who knows of my existence is Dorgo.”
“Th-that’s ridiculous! I’ve never heard of any secret missions!”
“Of course not. They’re ‘secret’ missions, after all. Not just anyone should know.”
Demian’s retort left Rubyia speechless.
“Dorgo has countless plans in motion. What you know is just a fragment.”
Demian’s words were undeniably true.
Dorgo’s ultimate goal was to bring down all the kingdoms and eventually eradicate humanity entirely.
Though he used dark sorcerers, they too were merely pawns to be discarded.
Dorgo had a separate plan to eliminate the dark sorcerers as soon as the war ended.
“I was never supposed to reveal my identity to anyone. But thanks to your meddling, I had no choice.”
“If you’re truly his direct attendant… why are you killing dark sorcerers?”
Rubyia still couldn’t bring herself to believe Demian.
“Yuran disappeared because of you, and now you’ve killed Garot too!”
“How should I know Dorgo’s true intentions? I just complete the missions I’m given.”
Demian stated bluntly.
“Perhaps they conducted experiments that displeased Dorgo. Or maybe they stole materials meant for him. It’s just my guess.”
“Stop making excuses! You’re trying to deceive me, aren’t you?”
“Excuses?”
Demian’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Are you claiming to know all of Dorgo’s intentions?”
“N-no, but…”
“Even your master, Slara, doesn’t know all of Dorgo’s plans. I’m surprised to hear such insolence from you, his disciple.”
At the mention of Slara, Rubyia’s eyes widened even more.
“H-how do you know my master…?”
“I just told you, didn’t I?”
Demian lifted his chin slightly, speaking with an air of arrogance.
“I’m Dorgo’s ‘direct’ and ‘secret’ attendant. You may not know me, but I know you.”
Rubyia instinctively took a step back, tripping over her own feet and falling.
“W-wait. I’ll ask my master to confirm this with him!”
“You’re just a disciple, and you think you can question Dorgo? You must not value your life.”
Demian clicked his tongue.
“Then why don’t you do it? Show me you can contact him, and I’ll believe you!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Or is it that you haven’t received the information yet?”
Demian feigned confusion as he continued.
“Dorgo changed the communication method long ago to issue orders unilaterally. We can no longer contact him.”
“Even you?”
Rubyia’s question left Demian inwardly disappointed.
Since his return, Demian had been searching for a way to communicate with Dorgo.
If he could send a message, he could potentially trace Dorgo’s location.
He had tried absorbing the memories of dark sorcerers as they died, hoping to find a way.
But there was nothing. Dorgo had ordered long ago to destroy all means of communication, promising to contact them if needed.
He had hoped Slara might have another method, but it was a futile hope.
“Do you believe me now?”
”…Yes, I have no choice but to believe you.”
“So, how long do you plan to keep your head held high?”
Demian smirked arrogantly. Rubyia immediately knelt on the ground.
“I greet the loyal servant of the great one.”
Afterward, Rubyia helped Demian escape from prison.
She used her dark magic to temporarily knock out the guards, leaving a fake Demian corpse in the cell and sneaking the real Demian out.
“I’ve made it look like a heart attack, so no one will suspect a thing,” Rubyia whispered as they left the prison.
If she could fool even the master class with a fake mercenary king, disguising Demian’s death was nothing.
Rubyia led Demian to her tent.
Originally, this was a place for the mercenary king’s women, so men like Demian weren’t allowed.
Rubyia easily solved this by using pheromones to charm the female guards.
“Please, have a seat.”
Rubyia busied herself, bringing out food and brewing tea.
Demian sat and observed the tent, filled with luxurious art pieces.
“These look expensive.”
“They’re all gifts from the mercenary king,” Rubyia said, placing tea leaves in a pot.
“I’m not really interested, but… what can I do? I have to pretend to like them to win favor.”
“Who planned the mercenary king’s abduction?”
“My master did. He wanted to study dragon’s blood.”
“Dragon’s blood?”
“You know which school my master belongs to, right? He wanted to absorb the dragon’s power. He also ordered us to dismantle the Fafnir Mercenary Corps.”
This was the terrifying aspect of a grand dark sorcerer.
They might not match a master class in direct combat, but their true value shone in the shadows.
“It was really tough. I spent over a year trying to win the mercenary king’s favor. Only then did I finally catch his eye.”
Rubyia grumbled as she placed a teacup in front of Demian.
“I thought everything would go smoothly once I joined the mercenary corps. I pride myself on handling men well.”
Rubyia’s eyes glinted seductively.
“But things didn’t go as I expected. Everyone feared the mercenary king, so my charms didn’t work at all.”
“You must have had a hard time.”
“Don’t even get me started,” Rubyia waved her hand dismissively.
“Still, the mercenary king’s abduction went smoothly, so that’s a relief. Now that he’s gone, it’s satisfying to see everyone fighting among themselves.”
“Where did you take the mercenary king? It couldn’t have been easy to get him out of the mercenary camp.”
“Oh, are you curious?”
Suddenly, Rubyia closed the distance between them, leaning against Demian’s shoulder.
“This story could take a while… You might get tired sitting there.”
She gestured subtly toward the bed.
“Honestly, I prefer manly men like you over someone childish like the mercenary king.”
Demian didn’t shy away from Rubyia’s advances. Instead, he studied her eyes.
Despite her seductive voice, her eyes were as calm as still water.
‘She’s up to something.’
Everything Rubyia said and did was a lie.
Her true intentions were undoubtedly hidden.
“If you want something, just say it. Stop with the pointless games.”
Rubyia looked at Demian with a puzzled expression.
“Sorry to ask, but… are you impotent?”
“You’re just not my type.”
Rubyia burst into laughter at Demian’s response.
“Oh, you got me there. Alright, I’ll get to the point. I want my name to reach him.”
“Is that all?”
“Is that all? Do you know how difficult that is? Only the greatest or most talented dark sorcerers have their names known to him.”
Dorgo had the ability to discern people’s talents.
His standards were incredibly high and strict. Even a grand dark sorcerer wouldn’t catch his interest if they didn’t meet his criteria.
“If you promise, I’ll tell you where the mercenary king is.”
It wasn’t a particularly difficult request.
Just as Demian was about to agree, a shadow rose from the floor of the tent.
“Rubyia, I’m back. No one has realized the mercenary king is a fake yet…”
Kardak’s eyes fell on Demian and Rubyia, who was clinging to him.
In that instant, Kardak’s face turned a furious shade of red. Unable to contain his anger, he exploded.
”…Rubyia, what is the meaning of this?”
Like Demian, Athena was also imprisoned.
She was thrown into a cell reserved for the most heinous criminals.
The floor was covered in rotting straw, and the walls were stained with blood.
Even as a suspect, this was no place for Athena, a first-generation holy blood.
“Is Demian alright?”
Athena was more concerned about Demian than the state of the prison.
As a holy blood, they wouldn’t treat her too harshly, but Demian was an outsider.
“What did they mean by saying my father was a fake…?”
Athena was lost in thought, pondering the situation.
The prison door creaked open, and someone stepped inside. The moment Athena saw the visitor’s face, she clenched her teeth.
“Look at you now.”
Those were the first words out of Clea Fowler’s mouth.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Athena’s voice was laced with venom. Clea smirked at her.
“I told you, didn’t I? You’re the prime suspect in this case. You’ll have to stay here for a while and cooperate with the investigation.”
“Cut the crap and tell me the real reason. Why am I locked up?”
“Do you really not know?”
Athena frowned at Clea’s question.
“What did you just say…?”
“You were the one who acted all high and mighty because you had Carl’s favor. You should’ve been more careful and made allies when you had the chance.”
Athena looked incredulous. “You’re doing this over something so petty?”
“Petty?”
Clea’s voice suddenly rose, carrying a strange intensity that made even Athena flinch.
“Do you have any idea how hard we’ve worked to gain Carl’s favor? Especially women like me, who are past their prime. Without children, there’s no way to catch his attention.”
The number of women Carl had been involved with was countless. Given that Clea Fowler, his first lover, was nearing old age, it wasn’t hard to imagine the extent of it.
“And then you showed up… with Carl’s blood running thick in your veins… making the rest of us look like fools.”
The Mercenary King’s attention was fixated on Athena. The more he cherished her, the less attention was left for the other women and children.
“I gave the order to imprison you, but every woman agreed with it. Do you understand now how everyone sees you?”
Athena was silent for a moment before speaking.
“When my father wakes up, he won’t let this slide.”
“Of course. Knowing Carl, he wouldn’t let something like this go. But that’s only if he wakes up, isn’t it?”
Athena’s expression darkened as she demanded, “What do you mean by that?”
She shouted, but Clea only stared at her silently.
“Tell me! What do you know? Why wouldn’t my father wake up…?”
“Strangely enough, except for your hair color, you really do take after your mother.”
The unexpected comment left Athena speechless.
“What are you talking about…?”
“My lifelong regret was not being able to kill your mother myself… but having you around is a consolation.”
Clea’s dark eyes bore into Athena, who swallowed hard without realizing it. Clea’s gaze was that chilling.
“Rest well.”
With those words, Clea left the prison.