Chapter 140

“Just how long do you intend to cling to me like a stalker?”

In the dim light of the labyrinth, the fiery-haired beauty raised her voice sharply.

“Huh, what a mess. Has this young lady gone mad? Just because we happen to be going the same way, what do you expect me to do?”

“Ah, then please go ahead and take the path you wish.”

“Goodness, this young lady has quite the temper. I was just going to stroll along leisurely—why all the fuss?”

“Oh my, is that so?”

At that very moment, crimson magic began to glow fiercely beneath her feet.

Whoosh!

Simultaneously, crimson flames began to rage, illuminating the darkness throughout the labyrinth. It was hellfire that even a single mage, or even a knight, could not easily withstand.

Swoosh.

“Whoa, you scared the hell out of me.”

But amidst the swirling flames, there was no sign of the adventurer ‘Faceless’. Instead, he had already seized her from behind, pressing a crimson blade against her throat. All traces of the earlier banter and laughter vanished, replaced by a murderous intent sharpened at the blade’s edge.

“Does this place still look like someone’s red house backyard to you?”

“……”

“The little bastards turned to ashes by your temper are grinding their teeth in hell. You’d do well to remember that your pretty neck is worth its weight in gold.”

“You certainly have a way with words, don’t you?”

“Well, isn’t that a mouth made for blabbering?”

For a moment, Lady Scarlet’s fangs gleamed blue between her lips. Then, the liquid tissues flowing through her bloodstream began to writhe.

Not a knight’s aura, nor what could be called a mage’s magic power—the force of blood.

“The shame of a knight, truly, you have no sense of decency.”

But her seething hatred lasted only a moment. Soon, feigning her usual composure, Lady Scarlet snapped back.

“Heh heh, what good would lecturing me on chivalry do to someone who’s already quit being a knight?”

Lady Scarlet, the Crimson Witch. Few in this world can cross her and remain unscathed. And the Swordmaster Baro was one of those rare few.

To monitor the uncontrollable Red Witch, there could be no more suitable candidate.

At that moment, in the heart of the Labyrinth City, within the Viscount Saxon’s castle.

Dale was there, disguising Master Baro as the Faceless to mark Lady Scarlet, while simultaneously listening to reports unfolding throughout the Labyrinth and the Demon King’s Domain.

“The Purifiers of the Crimson Maze have reported eliminating the ghoul horde threatening the Sitho Pioneer Monastery.”

“The winter crop harvests of the pioneer farmers are yielding results exceeding expectations.”

“Patrols in the frontier territories have been reinforced by rotating teams of Rose Cross Knights and Night Raven Knights.”

The open policy, smoothly implemented based on the power of House Saxon built by Father Black Duke. Amidst the whirlwind of the Artifact Rush, the darkness of the Demon King’s Realm was lifting, gradually revealing the lands beyond.

Pioneering this land is no task to be accomplished in a day or two. Even now, as Dale, aged thirteen, stood on the brink of his fifteenth birthday, having become the ruler of this Demon King’s Domain, it was no exception.

Ultimately, the unknown land Dale would face at the edge of the Demon Realm still lay shrouded in silence.

The homeland of the Demon King and his demonic kin, the Dark Land beyond the northern Demon King’s Realm. A realm shrouded in a veil, its true nature unknown to anyone in the Empire.

The northern reaches of the empire are not the same as the northern reaches of the continent. And no one knows how vast the land called the northern continent truly is, or how far it extends. After all, even the existence of the ‘Anatolia Eastern Continent’ beyond the sea is now known.

It is a land vast enough to compel even the Demon King Valor and the high-ranking demonic mages, the ‘Shadow Sorcerers,’ to abandon their homeland and undertake a great migration. What could possibly slumber within that land that even a being who claims to be a Demon King could not bear it, forcing him to flee in search of a new home?

I cannot obtain that answer right now. But as long as I cannot obtain that answer, Dale’s duty as ruler of the Demon Realm will not end either.

Whoosh!

The Shadow Lord’s avatar parried the swinging blade, and in that instant, Sir Helmut Blackbear brought his sword down in a downward strike.

Even as the blades clashed, Dale’s body endlessly emitted magic power, amplifying the Avatar’s strength.

Enhancing the body through magic is an act that borders on being extremely inefficient and meaningless in this world. No matter how hard a mage strives to strengthen the body, it cannot compare to the efficiency of aura.

But for Dale, who viewed his own existence as a mechanical device, it was a different story.

The dark-hued armor, fusing thermal engines into its circles with crimson mana, unleashed power from a total of three ‘power plants’.

The mana circle that purely generates magical power, the 『Black Goat’s Book』 rooted in the heart as another source of black magic, and finally the thermal engine fused within the body using red magic. The storm of magical power erupting as these three power sources fuse into one.

‘If this ability were unleashed to its fullest in the realm of thought, how far could it reach?’

The power he would possess if he fused the two things called the ultimate of swords and magic to the 100% level he imagined.

For that, becoming proficient in utilizing the Avatar and the crimson magic was essential, starting right now.

Moreover, those two were not the only ones present at the meeting that day.

As always, the two ladies-in-waiting who assisted the Viscount of Saxony were present.

Lady Shadow and Lady Black.

“……!”

Watching the clash between the two Avatar users, Lady Black ‘Charlotte’ swallowed softly.

The avatar known as the ultimate knight. Charlotte was not unaware of Sir Helmut Blackbear’s. But what exactly was that dark blood armor enveloping the lord she now had to protect?

For Charlotte as she was now, it was a clash of titans she could not even dare to approach. And it was not magic, but a battle fought entirely through swords.

‘The lord I must protect…’

It was Dale who had recognized and nurtured the talent she possessed as the daughter of the Divine Sword. It was also Dale who had told her that one day, her sword would surpass his own strength.

Yet the master she was sworn to protect, Dale, was growing ever more distant with each passing day. He was ascending to a realm beyond Charlotte’s reach.

Even Aurelia, who stands guard beside their master, possesses her own avatar. Furthermore, whenever Dale undertook some mission, it was Lady Shadow’s duty to watch over their master from the shadows.

Not Charlotte.

She thought absentmindedly. Was there even any reason for her, Charlotte, to exist here in the Saxon ducal castle now? Feeling the ground beneath her feet gradually narrowing, Charlotte clenched her teeth.

It was at that very moment.

Clang!

Countering the swing of Lord Helmut’s sword, the Shadow Lord finally drove the hilt into the floor.

“Charlotte.”

Dale opened his mouth, addressing Charlotte directly.

“Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn…?”

Charlotte gasped at the unexpected words.

“Raise your sword.”

“Ah, uh-huh.”

Charlotte nodded and hurriedly placed her hand on her waist. She drew the sword, and a jet-black aura blade coiled around it.

An aura knight wielding Saxon’s Black Sword. That level of mastery was already far beyond what someone her age should be capable of achieving.

Nevertheless, in front of Aureliana Dale, who stood by her side, she was ultimately a frog in a well. Every time she clashed swords with Aureliana, the knight who claimed to be her usual training partner, she felt that truth more keenly.

Being the daughter of the Divine Sword made no difference. In this utterly absurd world, the value of the blood flowing through Charlotte’s veins was ultimately nothing more than a means to fulfill the ‘desire for eugenics’.

At that very moment, the Shadow Lord’s avatar charged toward her.

It was a speed she could scarcely imagine in her current state, and Charlotte’s black sword belatedly clashed with Dale’s demon sword.

Clang!

At the end of the clash, Charlotte’s sword spun futilely through the air and plunged into the floor.

“…Ah.”

A sword filled with bewilderment.

“Are you surprised to see my avatar?”

“N-no, I was just a little unsettled.”

Dale asked back, and Charlotte hesitated before nodding.

“Still, I couldn’t hide it even from the swords that are meant to protect me.”

“……I know.”

You’re not so weak that my sword needs to protect you. Unable to bring herself to say those words, Charlotte smiled bitterly. After smiling, she repositioned her grip on the sword. It was aimed at a being already far beyond her reach, lost in the distance.

She steadied her mind and focused her consciousness on the blade’s edge.

To draw even a little closer to him.

This world is vast. And it takes more than a day for follow-up reports of the ‘War of the Roses’ unfolding far away to reach the Demon King’s Domain of Saxony.

Thus, the official news of the Holy Sword’s death was conveyed around that very time.

After being defeated by the ‘Black Prince’ in the First War of the Roses and taken prisoner, he was later rescued by Philip… but by then, his holy sword had been broken and he could not withstand his fatal wounds. News came that he died in his own lands shortly after the Second War of the Roses ended.

Dale had intentionally instructed York to control and manipulate the information, deliberately delaying the timing of the death announcement.

This was done to consider the aftershocks that would shake the empire following the loss of the Sacred Sword and the death of Michael Lancaster, allowing the empire to absorb the shock.

The moment word spread that the relic of the first White Mage Tower Lord had been shattered, the White Mage Tower was thrown into uproar. When it became known that the perpetrator was the ‘Black Prince,’ the entire church began to foam at the mouth.

It was around this time that Charlotte Orhart also heard news of the Sacred Sword.

That dawn, a knock sounded at Dale’s bedroom door.

Dale gasped and sat up abruptly.

“Dale.”

But the voice that followed was not the one Dale had imagined. It was not Sepia’s, but that of his knight, Charlotte. Only then did the void left by Sepia’s absence seize Dale’s heart.

“Come in.”

Swallowing his disappointment, Dale opened his mouth flatly. Charlotte stood there, dressed in black pajamas. Dale also adjusted his clothes as he greeted her.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Thanks.”

Charlotte smiled hesitantly. It was a smile filled with awkwardness.

“Is there anything else you need to talk about?”

“……”

Dale asked, and Charlotte didn’t answer. In the silence, Charlotte spoke.

“I heard the Holy Sword died.”

“…I heard that after the war ended, he met his death in his own domain.”

Dale feigned ignorance.

“Did you fight that man yourself?”

Dale nodded silently.

“No matter how severe his injuries were, I never imagined he would actually die.”

“I see.”

Another lie. The words Dale whispered to Charlotte.

It was then. Dale turned his head absentmindedly and saw the sword hanging askew beside his bed.

It was the beloved sword of the warrior who had once struck down her father—the Peacemaker.