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Chapter 235: White Night Festival (3)

There are certain kinds of people in this world that you must never get close to.

1. Merchants who claim they don't care about money.

They're usually the most obsessed with money.

Always on the lookout for a chance to snatch your wallet, so you must be extremely careful.

2. Politicians who endlessly spew sweet promises.

A true politician never makes only pleasing promises.

Those who understand the weight of responsibility cannot utter baseless pledges.

3. Demons.

In some ways, they're better than the other two.

At least they don't lie.

Demons speak and act like the monsters they are—there's no chance of being deceived in the first place.

They’re just inherently dangerous beings.

“……”

“……”

A heavy silence filled the meeting room.

It took time for everyone to process what had just come out of the Emperor's mouth.

“I must be hearing things.”

As always, the one to open his mouth was Kudel Redmane.

His face twisted in disbelief as he asked again.

“Your Majesty, did you just say ‘peace treaty’? If not, then I must be going deaf. Perhaps it’s time for me to retire.”

“You heard correctly. You seem to be in perfect health.”

“Hah.”

Kudel let out a hollow laugh, and the Violet Moon spoke firmly.

“Nonsense. That's absolutely impossible.”

“Hm. For once, I agree with you.”

Even the Sword Clan, who usually disagreed with the Magic Tower, voiced their opposition.

“Everyone here knows what kind of creatures demons are, right?”

“Of course. They are beings fundamentally incapable of coexistence.”

“But then, why would they even bother sending a letter to His Majesty?”

“Hmph. I suppose they’ve cooked up some sneaky scheme.”

“What we need to keep in mind is that the Black Fingers are still active.”

Everyone nodded at that.

The people gathered in this room were all members of the Shadow Trackers.

Naturally, they were more familiar than anyone with the atrocities committed by the Black Fingers.

“Not long ago, they used the Salvation Church to conduct horrific experiments, turning civilians into demonified humans.”

“And what about Noctera, the bedding brand that was all the rage in the capital? A distant relative of mine is still undergoing treatment because of that.”

“They also placed Heaven Silkworm cocoons in Sirin’s magic power plant.”

Accusations of the Black Fingers' crimes poured out from every direction.

Emperor Ludwig listened quietly and nodded.

“The new Demon King claims all of it was a misunderstanding. He says he never issued such orders. That the Black Fingers are a terrorist group unrelated to demonkind, and that he prays for their swift eradication.”

“Hah! That’s like trying to cover the sun with your palm!”

“Just how stupid does he think we are?”

“Unless…”

At that moment, Beryl Dan, head of the Dragon Sword Clan, narrowed his eyes and asked:

“Your Majesty, are you considering the peace treaty with the demons favorably?”

“……”

“……”

All eyes turned to the Emperor.

If the sun of the Empire was showing even a hint of receptiveness to that letter…

Then a truly insane thing—like a summit between humans and demons—could become a reality.

“……”

Ludwig slowly opened his mouth after sweeping his gaze over the room.

“Of course not. I was merely curious about your reactions.”

Curious about their reactions?

Beryl flinched at that.

Only one reason came to mind as to why the Emperor would test them this way.

“…You don’t trust even us, do you?”

“If that upset you, then I apologize.”

A non-denial, replaced by an apology.

That alone confirmed that the Emperor had, in fact, been gauging their reactions.

Beryl, who had never expected to be suspected, let his disappointment show.

“Your Majesty, when we joined the Shadow Trackers, we were all vetted by the Grand Temple and bound by oath.”

“That you were.”

The Emperor nodded—slowly—and notably used the past tense.

“Of the 87 turncoats we uncovered recently, 28 were members of the Shadow Trackers.”

“…!”

“…!”

Everyone looked as if they had just been struck by a hammer.

No one had even imagined such a thing.

“That’s impossible. Joining the Shadow Trackers requires an oath written on enchanted parchment, doesn’t it?”

“If anyone does even the slightest thing that benefits demonkind, they’re supposed to die instantly—how…?”

“There are two known methods so far.”

The Emperor explained briefly.

“The first is drugs.”

“Drugs, as in…?”

“Narcotics. They made the targets addicts—so hooked that they’d do anything for another dose.”

Understanding the gravity of those words, many faces stiffened.

To do something knowing it would kill you, simply to feed an addiction…

And if these were Shadow Trackers, that meant they had reached a high level in some field.

Yet even they couldn’t resist it, meaning the drug’s addictiveness was extraordinary.

And there was only one group capable of making and distributing such drugs on that scale.

“…Happy End.”

Seruin Aquadne, the Blue Tower Master, murmured calmly.

The Emperor nodded in acknowledgment.

“Happy End, the Empire’s largest narcotics cartel. We will dedicate all resources to rooting them out.”

“But that won’t be easy.”

Eos, the Sword Master of Toft, said grimly.

“As you know, they operate in a thoroughly compartmentalized cell system. Every distributor we've caught so far was nothing more than a disposable pawn on a chessboard."

“The central body has been under pursuit by our Blood Tower for four years now. You’ll have to wait for results.”

At those words from Carmine Zeidel, Lord of the Blood Tower, Eos replied with indifference.

“Four years, huh. That’s a roundabout way of admitting incompetence.”

“Heh heh. Even the previous Swordmaster of Toft never spoke so rudely to me.”

“Probably because he didn’t feel the need to.”

Carmine narrowed his eyes like a snake, fixing his gaze on Eos.

Tension coiled in the conference chamber like a taut wire, as the friction between the Magic Towers and Sword Houses crackled in the air.

Observing their conduct, the Emperor asked calmly:

“Are you going to continue?”

“…Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

“Heh heh. A disgraceful display.”

As the tension dissolved in an instant, the Emperor cast a heavy gaze across the gathered assembly.

“For the second case, we’ll try a different approach.”

“A different approach, Your Majesty?”

“I don’t know.”

At a snap of the Emperor’s fingers, a royal court mage projected information about the defectors before each attendee.

[Translator - Night]

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“Those who were addicted to the drug and broke their oaths all died. On the other hand, those who defected without being addicted are still alive and well.”

“…?”

Everyone was visibly puzzled by the baffling statement.

“Did the Oath Parchment malfunction?”

“More precisely, the other side must have found a way to defy the Oath and avoid punishment.”

“That is impossible.”

The high priests present immediately objected.

“The power of the gods is absolute. No one can escape the punishment invoked by the Oath Parchment.”

“If there’s no flaw in the Oath Parchment…”

The Emperor looked at them with detached eyes.

“…then it must be you who made a mistake. Should I take your heads for it?”

“……”

“……”

The high priests clamped their mouths shut.

Withdrawing his gaze, the Emperor continued.

“From now on, anyone could be a traitor. You would do well to keep that in mind and act accordingly.”

The underlying belief that those affiliated with the Shadow Trackers were absolutely trustworthy—

That premise had now collapsed.

It meant that yesterday’s ally could become today’s enemy.

Those confronting this deeply unsettling truth voiced their frustration.

“…So they pull this kind of filth in the shadows, and then what? Talk about peace treaties?”

“A peace treaty, eh. Now that you mention it, we haven’t actually seen the contents.”

At the Emperor’s signal to the royal court mage, a screen appeared in the center of the chamber.

Displayed on it were lines written in elegant Imperial script.

Henceforth, in pursuit of a peaceful future between our two nations, this Grand Emperor proposes the following accords:

Deployment and Residency of Demon Observers

Our observers shall be stationed in Imperial cities, aiding in the regulation of the human population.

Restrictions on High-Level Magic Users

All humans within the Empire shall be restricted to a maximum magic level of 7.

This is a preventative measure to avoid unnecessary conflict and promote harmony.

Introduction of Tribute System

Trust is built on planning and executed through action.

The Empire shall, every quarter, offer individuals and resources meeting specified criteria to the Demon Realm.

These tributes will be used for medical research, biological experiments, and food supply.

Priority will be given to mages, knights, and clerics of superior physical and mental attributes.

Historical Revision and Censorship Clause

True peace begins when hatred is forgotten and anger is not indulged.

All existing documents regarding demons must be rewritten from a “refined perspective.”

Those who spread false information shall be subject to re-education, correction, or deletion.

Control of Magic and Swordsmanship

All magic and sword techniques held by Imperial institutions shall be transferred to research labs in the Demon Realm.

This will be the cornerstone of mutual trust and cultural exchange.

Please review the above matters carefully, and we await your wise response.

The blood spilled 21 years ago was not insignificant. This Great Emperor values the worth of the human race and earnestly wishes for coexistence and progress together.

“……”

“……”

Everyone reread the letter in stunned silence.

The first to burst out in rage was Hardan Harrogue, Swordmaster of the barbaric and militant Maktu Clan.

“Outrageous! This is beyond insulting!”

“Hmm. They’ve definitely crossed the line.”

“They’ve clearly lost their minds.”

“Ha! It’s only been 21 years since they tucked tail and fled after losing.”

As the room erupted in complaints and anger, the Emperor turned to someone unexpectedly quiet—

Kudel Redmane—and asked:

“A surprise. I thought you would be the first to fly into a rage.”

“…It’s terrifying, that’s why.”

“Terrifying?”

“That new Grand Emperor didn’t send this to provoke us out of boredom.”

Kudel, now wearing sunglasses again, hid his eyes.

“He truly believes in the Demons’ victory. That’s why he’s being merciful.”

“……”

“……”

An eerie silence fell over the chamber.

Just as humanity hadn’t forgotten their victory 21 years ago, the demons would not have forgotten their defeat either.

And yet, the confidence in that letter was unwavering—

Which could only mean one thing: their preparations were complete.

Kudel’s hands, hidden beneath the table, were subtly trembling.

“Bastard… Scares the hell out of me.”

The single biggest difference from 21 years ago… was the existence of a Level 9.

Back then, every time the Demon Emperor—who had reached Level 9—stepped onto the battlefield, his power alone was enough to crush humanity’s hope and pride.

But one day, a pillar of white light rose on the battlefield.

Oscar Sage, Master of the White Tower, had reached Level 9.

And with that one change in number, the tide of war turned.

In the end, humanity secured its victory.

“……”

But now, 21 years later?

True, the average capability of mages and knights had improved—

More people had reached Level 7 and 8.

But not one new pillar of light had risen.

No one said it aloud, but everyone knew the source of that Demon Emperor’s confidence:

Level 9.

He likely hadn’t reached it yet.

If he had, humanity would already be enslaved.

But for him to show this much confidence meant that moment wasn’t far off.

As grim expressions spread around the chamber, the Emperor spoke.

“Once the White Night Festival ends, each Magic Tower, Sword House, and Temple shall complete internal restructuring.”

It was a direct order to prepare for the coming war.

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