[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 320: Back to Being the Underworld's Mad Dog

“Wow, incredible.”

Verdzig was barely being pushed back, even against Ivan.

‘He passed the stage of Sword-Body Unity back in the 7th-tier long ago.’

The Grunewald martial art that Verdzig was displaying was quite different from the interpretation shown by Ulbhild.

‘Fluid, yet supremely solid. Disciplined, yet his free-spirited responses make him unpredictable to his opponent.’

Verdzig is not an 8th-tier warrior.

So why was it that I could get a glimpse of that same profound height of mastery that I felt during the duel with Duke Montera?

‘A genius is a genius, I suppose.’

Leszek, Georg, and Verdzig.

Even without me, Grunewald was more than powerful enough.

“Thorough and tenacious.”

Even Ivan had to offer praise for Verdzig’s swordsmanship.

Clap, clap, clap.

I applauded.

“Excellent. What a fierce fight.”

“You, be quiet.”

A sword strike from Ivan flew at me, but he had no chance.

I caught it with a palm coated in the Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique and absorbed its power with the ability of Absorption.

“Buuurp.”

I let out a burp and expressed my gratitude.

“Thanks. I was running low on mana anyway.”

“Crazy bastard.”

Ivan, shaking his head, unleashed a mana wave to push Verdzig back.

“Verdzig, have you gotten stronger again in such a short time?”

Verdzig nodded.

“Allen wasn’t the only one who crossed swords with Duke Montera. I was at a disadvantage then, but not to the point where I would have been defeated within a hundred bouts.”

“…It would be right to nip you in the bud now, but.”

Ivan shook his head.

“At this rate, a decapitation strike to take out you two brothers and retreat is not feasible.”

He wasn't wrong. Verdzig’s side still had plenty of strength remaining.

“We are retreating.”

Ivan withdrew with surprising ease.

“…What, he’s giving up that easily?”

That question was answered by Ivan’s telepathic message.

[Well done, Karzan. My superiors were beginning to suspect me, so I needed a pretext to retreat.]

Ah. So that’s what it was?

‘I almost misunderstood.’

…Anyway.

With Ivan’s withdrawal, the long battle had finally come to a close.

“I express my sincere gratitude to both you young masters.”

The 8th Prince looked like he had gone through quite an ordeal while I wasn’t looking; his cheeks were hollowed, and his eyes had grown sharp.

“I will not forget the grace you have shown me. Now…”

He grinned.

“Let’s capture my third brother in a way that sheds as little blood as possible.”

Now that was something I was happy to hear.

***

The shocking news that Duke Montera had been defeated and killed by Allenvert, that his remaining forces had all surrendered, and that even Ivan had retreated without any gains, struck the royal castle of Litvaleur like a thunderbolt.

“Aaargh! Aaaaaaaargh!”

Lavinia went completely mad, throwing furniture and screaming hysterically.

“Allenvert! Verdzig! How dare those bastards who deserve to be torn to shreds!”

But the 3rd Prince, Boldunhar, had no time to soothe his lover’s rage.

“Is it over?”

The 3rd Prince, who had moved beyond shock into a state of detachment, looked at his vassals.

“Someone, tell me what we should do.”

“…”

There was only silence.

No one could easily speak up.

It was even more so because the Grand Commander of the Royal Guard, who had just received the news of his own brother’s death, was standing with a grim face and his lips sealed shut.

“…”

The 3rd Prince looked at the pathetic display and sneered.

“If you stood by my side to share in the rewards when I was victorious, then it is only right that you help solve the hardships as well. Do you not possess even the honor of a common merchant or a gangster?”

“!”

At his scathing words, the vassals lowered their heads.

The vassals were silent, Lavinia was hysterical, and the 3rd Prince was seething with a cold fury. It was a scene that could only be described by the word ‘catastrophe’.

“Your Highness, if I may be so bold, in my opinion…”

“I will not listen to excuses.”

The 3rd Prince glared at his vassals before finally turning his head to Ivan.

“Lord Ivan. Is the Black Society still my ally?”

Ivan replied simply.

“Is there any reason for it not to be?”

“Then can you help me?”

“If there is no reason to refuse.”

Ivan’s mission, after all, was to buy time until the two artifacts were recovered.

Grunewald sending the two young masters to interfere in the succession war was an excellent response, but the Dark King had countered by launching a surprise invasion of both clans while their forces were depleted.

In the end, even the diplomatic war of gaining the royal family’s power and turning the lords to their side would become meaningless once the Dark King became a transcendent being.

‘At least one of them.’

He had to secure at least one. Otherwise, everything would be over.

“Now that it has come to this.”

Ivan said, having finished his thoughts.

“Realistically, it seems there is only one option left.”

“And what is that?”

“The First Prince’s faction will be off their guard. If we launch a surprise attack now and secure the First Prince’s person, their justification for this war will be significantly weakened.”

The 3rd Prince laughed.

“The eighth brother might even hope for that, no? He would aim for the throne himself, claiming to avenge his eldest brother.”

“I am not suggesting we kill him. The idea is to take him hostage and buy time.”

The 3rd Prince tilted his head.

“What will change if we buy time? Will the Dark King send me reinforcements?”

Ivan nodded.

“The Dark King wishes to recover two treasures that were stolen by Grunewald and Valkenhain long ago. Once he obtains both, there will be no one left who can stop his will.”

“!”

He instilled hope in the 3rd Prince with a sweet truth.

“And that great undertaking is already halfway complete.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Valkenhain has finally fallen.”

.

.

.

Heinz Valkenhain had attempted to take his enemy down with him, but Amilcar, though severely wounded, had ultimately succeeded in retrieving the Ebony Oath.

“…Damn it.”

Mounted on the back of a wyvern, Amilcar flew through the sky, leaving the castle of Valkenhain, now engulfed in hellfire, behind him.

“Fucking old man. Couldn’t even die gracefully.”

He spat out a string of rough curses, unbecoming of a knight.

‘Heinz Valkenhain.’

He was the real deal, even in his dotage.

The martial prowess of that superhuman, as he burned his final flame, had left a great scar on even the strongest knight of Flanders.

The price of that was his own life.

‘…But that desperate struggle is now over.’

He caressed the wooden box held in his arms.

“The Ebony Oath has been recovered.”

…Inside was the ultimate demonic art that would turn the Dark King into a Demon God.

.

.

.

The people clinging to the windows of the inner castle watched with terrified eyes as the Dark King, who had appeared by dyeing the sky black, caused people to vanish without a trace with a single wave of his hand.

“Ah, ahh.”

“Is that the Dark King?”

“That is no human. That is the incarnation of a devil.”

The servants felt an endless fear at the scene unfolding in the distance.

“H-Head Butler.”

“…Peter, my boy. Close your eyes.”

Olivier rubbed Peter’s back and infused him with mana.

“Miss Bridget, Master Colin. Help your brother and look after your mother.”

“Okay.”

“Yes!”

It had been Olivier’s decision to have Peter’s family take shelter inside the castle in preparation for the war.

“As long as you are here, you will all be safe. Make sure no one wanders around.”

“Understood, Head Butler.”

Leaving the detached villa behind, Olivier hurried to find the Head Butler.

“Uncle.”

“Olivier.”

Olivier, a 5th-tier warrior, was the last line of defense for the castle’s interior, along with the Head Butler.

“It’s suffocating. How can a being of flesh and blood possess such power?”

Even Count Aiden, who had served Georg Grunewald up close, who was well aware of the superhuman power possessed by Leszek and Geninghen Grunewald, could not help but be dumbfounded by the presence of the Dark King before his eyes.

“…There’s no choice.”

The Head Butler sighed.

‘Lord Geninghen, you were right.’

The Dark King’s power was in a realm that was difficult to calculate.

But Geninghen was a mage.

After factoring in even the incalculable variables into his equation, there was only one answer he had reached.

“…Olivier, we must prepare.”

“Uncle!”

“This is the best we can do.”

This was a choice he never wanted to make.

But was he not always familiar with choosing the lesser of two evils?

Count Aiden squeezed his eyes shut in the face of a choice that was difficult to bear, but one that had to be borne.

“I will go to the treasury. You will protect this place.”

***

Following the 8th Prince’s suggestion, we deliberately slowed our advance and slowly surrounded the castle of Litvaleur.

“Young Master, are you alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine now.”

“Really?”

“It’s not like any bones were broken. A good potion and some rest, and I’ll be healed in no time.”

“I don’t think your injuries were light enough to be dismissed so easily…”

Sienna shook her head.

“It’s probably because the class of my body has risen since I reached the 8th-tier.”

My blood vessels had become stronger and wider, and my overall physical abilities had increased, much like when I used the Light Star’s subtlety as a 7th-tier.

I now had the confidence to face even Knut’s naturally strong physique head-on without being pushed back.

‘Compared to other 8th-tier masters who only break through the wall in their middle age, at the earliest.’

Perhaps the effect was more pronounced because I had reached the transcendent state at such a young age.

“By the way, will this be alright?”

I asked the 8th Prince.

“If your prediction is correct, the 3rd Prince’s faction will try to capture His Highness the 1st Prince at all costs.”

“If they focus their strength there, they won’t be able to stop us from breaching the castle gates.”

The 8th Prince answered promptly.

“In that case, even if my eldest brother is taken hostage, the tide of the war will be in our favor.”

At this point, I couldn't help but ask him directly.

“Because if something happens to the 1st Prince, there is the alternative of the 8th Prince, is that it?”

He hid his expression with surprisingly excellent patience.

“Of course, I am merely speaking of the worst-case scenario.”

Verdzig smirked.

“You mischievous brat. In any case, I agree with the 8th Prince’s proposal.”

Those were the words of Verdzig, who must have seen deep into the 8th Prince during their time together. It was probably right to trust his judgment here.

‘It’s also true that making the 8th Prince king would make him our greatest ally.’

Therefore, I made a suggestion.

“Wouldn’t it be faster if we just captured the 3rd Prince?”

“That is true.”

“Then it might be a good idea to play a card they would never expect.”

“What do you…”

I pointed at Zamuel.

“This man is a big shot in the northern underworld. Naturally, he has connections inside the royal castle.”

“!!!”

I grinned.

“I think Zamuel, Ghir, and I can do something.”

It’s time to go back to being the mad dog of the underworld.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]