Chapter 145

The Grand Plaza of the Labyrinth City, Labyrinthos.

Before it, which had long since been reborn from the Saxon Viscount’s castle into the church’s cathedral, a considerable crowd had gathered.

“The Sistine Goddess Church must immediately withdraw its excessive tax policies!”

“The church that sells the goddess’s name must step down!”

“Get the hell out of the Demon King’s domain now!”

The crowd raised their voices in protest against the church, which had taken over the Demon King’s domain and was raking in taxes by the shovelful. From adventurers exploring the labyrinth, to guild members drawn by the artifact and magic stone trade, even farmers risking their lives to cultivate pioneering ventures within the city were no exception.

However, for such a massive number of people to move so systematically, it could never be achieved by ‘their will’ alone.

The presence of a leader capable of uniting the organization and issuing directives was absolutely essential.

Officially, the one fanning the flames behind them was Edward Dulles. As the leader of the noble adventurer faction, he wielded the most powerful influence within the labyrinth city.

But unofficially, the true ‘puppet master’ lurking behind the scenes, manipulating them, was never Edward.

The clandestine agents who had taken root throughout the city, the assassins of the Shadow Court, were capable of far more than merely severing human throats. After all, covert operations encompass many meanings.

In front of the cathedral, a considerable crowd was shouting as if ready to erupt into riot at any moment, and standing in their way was the church’s Templar Order.

Amidst the swirling chaos, Dale was there too. His hood pulled tightly over his head, concealing his identity.

Once the spark was lit, it couldn’t consume the entire woodpile overnight.

Therefore, all Dale could do was wait for the right moment.

For the moment when the spark he ignited would blaze, consuming this labyrinth city and the Church.

“Young Master Dale.”

In the cathedral’s inner chamber, someone knocked on the door of the ‘Black Prince’s’ office.

It was a woman of the golden bloodline. She stood alone, without even a maid or knight to guard her.

She was Chiara, the Fifth Princess of the Empire, of the Dragon’s Head (Pendragon) lineage.

“Princess Kiara.”

Regardless, the focal points of the Great Demon Alliance gathered here in the Cathedral of the Bishop’s Seat. Yet, even so, it was hard to imagine a royal of the realm wandering the castle without a single escort.

“There’s no need to be so stiff. Please, don’t mind the formalities in my presence.”

Startled, he rose to his feet and tried to bow in respect, but Chiara shook her head, saying there was no need.

“You must be terribly worried.”

“…These are matters I must bear, as is my duty.”

Princess Chiara swept her dress train as she sat before Dale, and only after seeing her did Dale finally take his seat.

“Hearing the fame of the ‘Black Prince’ resound throughout the empire, I imagined your appearance day and night.”

Kiara continued, her tone cheerful as she addressed Dale.

“Just what kind of man is he, that his name and fame echo throughout this entire country day after day? Imagining your appearance like that, I spent many sleepless nights.”

“People’s stories always tend to be exaggerated.”

“Oh, come now, that can’t be true.”

Chiara burst out laughing as if it were utterly ridiculous.

“The ‘Black Prince’ standing before me now proves that the gossip on the lips of the idle is no lie.”

Dale forced a calm smile at Chiara’s words, wary of the hidden blade behind her praise.

“May I ask why the Imperial Princess sought me out?”

That’s why Dale asked back. He figured there was no point in continuing this pointless war of nerves any longer.

“I simply wished to converse with the ‘Black Prince.’ Just the two of us, like this.”

“I suppose I must pray my words do not disappoint Your Highness.”

At Dale’s words, Kiara smiled meaningfully.

“Heh heh, there’s no doubt about the Prince’s eloquence. It’s already been proven beyond question.”

Kiara said.

“How could I forget that day in the assembly, when you declared yourself the Shadow King and demanded the Blue Tower’s allegiance?”

“……!”

And at the words that followed from her mouth, Dale’s expression froze stiffly.

“Oh my, why are you so startled?”

But Fifth Princess Kiara remained utterly unfazed, merely smiling.

“Is it so strange that a proper ‘sorceress’ with the qualifications to attend the council would be present at that gathering?”

“……Did you infiltrate the Blue Mage Tower as a spy for the Imperial Court?”

Dale retorted coldly.

“Why would you think that?”

“Are you not a member of the imperial family, bearing the golden bloodline?”

“And what of it?”

It was Princess Chiara who asked back, as if she couldn’t understand.

“Even if I carry the blood of the imperial house, where in this empire of fire and light could there be a place for me?”

It was at that very moment.

Simultaneously with her words, the ‘Circle’ encircling the princess’s heart began to stir. The swirling blue magic power surging from beneath her feet engulfed the entire area.

“The World of Thought…!”

Simultaneously, the world projecting Princess Kiara’s inner vision revealed itself there.

A world of gold spread out before them. A golden fortress, golden mansions, golden lands… the heart of an empire made of gold, the landscape of the Imperial Capital.

Yet at the same time, all the gold there was frozen solid.

Castles and mansions alike, a layer of ice had settled over the world made of gold, frost had descended.

The world was literally frozen solid.

A magician’s world can never lie. For that world is the very embodiment of the ideology and mental landscape the magician has built up over a lifetime.

“Can I show you my true feelings with this?”

“How can you be certain this world isn’t a ‘world of intrigue and deceit’?”

Dale retorted. At that question, Chiara burst into laughter as if delighted.

“That day, at the Sorceress Council, I saw a young master who embodied the very image of the Shadow Lord more than anything else.”

After laughing, she snapped her fingers.

Crack, snap.

Behind her, the towering golden castle began to crack, and further, the ice covering the castle started to shatter.

The ice shattered, and the ‘Golden Castle’ collapsed.

The landscape Dale had so desperately longed for was unfolding before him. The empire’s heart, encased in ice, was crumbling.

“This is the ‘world’ I truly desire. Not as the dragon’s child who inherits the imperial bloodline, but as a sorceress who claims the banner of the shadows above all else.”

“……”

“To destroy the Empire of Fire and Light—that alone is what I desire.”

Kiara spoke. The weight of her words made Dale swallow hard.

“This empire of fire and light shall fall, and I hope the ‘Children of the Dragon’ will seize their freedom against the Father Dragon.”

“Are you referring to His Majesty the Emperor, the Golden Sovereign?”

Chiara smiled silently.

“As things stand now, you probably couldn’t even imagine it. The existence of the ‘rulers’ who govern the empire.”

“You said rulers?”

“The Lord of Fire and Blood, the Lord of Light and Heaven… Even the ‘Lord of Darkness and Death’ who rules the Duchy of Saxony cannot be an exception.”

The moment I heard those words, I sensed it instinctively. That they were the masters of the Five-Colored Magic Tower.

“……!”

“Did you still believe the Empire was a nation ruled by ‘a single sovereign’?”

The ruler Chiara referred to was never meant to be singular. It was a notion the Empire, which proclaimed itself the sole nation on earth, could scarcely even imagine.

The Shadow Saintess’s words came to mind without warning.

The existence of apostles who claim to be the standard-bearers of gold and shadow. Moreover, those who harbor ambitions not merely to become standard-bearers, but to ascend directly to the throne amidst gold and shadow.

“──Are you referring to the Apostles?”

“Among the Apostles, they are the exceptionally powerful and special ones.”

Unconsciously, the image of Michael Lancaster, the Apostle of Fire and Light, came to mind. He imagined a future where Michael had not fallen at Dale’s hand, but instead ascended to an even higher place.

He too would likely have been reborn as the ‘Lord of Fire and Light’. And he wouldn’t stop there; he’d strive to seize an even higher position.

Moreover, at that point, there was only one position he could possibly attain.

“Like the Lord of Fire and Blood, who swears allegiance to the Golden Lord yet still covets the ‘Golden Throne’ even now.”

The Lord of Fire and Blood, Viscount Yuris.

Those who possess the ambition not merely to become the golden standard-bearer, but to ascend to the throne itself. The underhanded power struggles still unfolding within the Empire of Light and Fire.

“Truly, they’re nothing but scattered beans.”

Dale sneered coldly, recalling the countless kings he had once brought down.

“Our Blue Tower of Magic will fulfill our duty of loyalty to the ‘Shadow Lord’ in silence.”

Kiara declared.

“Moreover, Your Highness is well aware that our silence won’t keep you waiting long.”

“……”

“Just remember this. I am prepared to shatter the blue silence for the Shadow Lord.”

As the words left his lips, the world’s landscape blurred. Once more, the two found themselves in the office of the cathedral. No longer the Saxon Viscount’s manor.

There, Dale’s mind began racing.

“Since you put it that way, I have no reason to refuse.”

But it was by no means a long deliberation.

“As the Standard-Bearer of the Shadows, are you prepared to break the silence for the Shadow Lord?”

In response to Dale’s question, Chiara bent her knees and gently lifted the hem of her dress on both sides.

At that moment, in the Shadow Court’s hideout.

A scream echoed through the room. It was the scream of the Shadow Saint. Hearing the sound, Master Baro, who had his feet propped up on the table, flung his beer aside and leaped to his feet.

“Father… I’m sorry…! Please forgive me, it hurts, I can’t see anything!”

It was his usual fit. The nightmare of his former master, who raged that a demon possessed his young daughter, gouging out her eyes.

“Miss Maria, pull yourself together!”

Master Baro urgently called out the Shadow Saintess’s name and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“Baro, Baro…!”

The Shadow Saint, Maria, reached out toward Master Baro’s face as if tracing braille.

“I’m scared, I can’t see anything, I can’t see anything…”

The black bandage covering her eyes slipped down. Beneath it, a gaping hole revealed nothingness.

And beyond that empty hole, blood was flowing.

“There’s no need to worry, Miss Maria.”

Master Baro clenched his jaw softly.

“I am here beside you, aren’t I?”

Once a traitor who abandoned even a knight’s pride and self-respect to stab his lord in the back. The shame of the Seven Swords of the Continent. Yet even before such finger-pointing, Master Baro’s ‘knight’s pride’ never broke.

The convulsions ceased amidst the agony. The Shadow Saintess buried her face in Baro’s shoulder and began to sob.

They were tears of blood.

Shortly thereafter, a large-scale riot erupted in which adventurers slaughtered priests of the Goddess Cult.