CHAPTER 114: A TURNING POINT, AND THE KING'S SUMMONS

Once the royal palace was sealed, the situation finally came to an end. All Nightblades in the city returned to their posts. The well-trained operatives quickly swept through the city, eliminating remaining demons and clearing away the remnants they left behind.

The demonic carcasses would dissipate rapidly after the Hellgate closed, a result of the natural rejection of demonic entities by other planes of existence.

Otherwise, the demons—known for their terrifying vitality, absurdly rapid reproduction, and astonishing growth—would soon flood other worlds through the planar rifts that appeared on occasion.

This innate rejection served as a safeguard against demonic onslaught, preventing them from conquering all planes. After all, there was hardly a Doomguy in this world.

This added a wrinkle to the Nightblades' post-battle cleanup. Demonic parts—bones, blood, hearts, and the like—were valuable fire-attuned alchemical materials. Properly processed, they could be used in rare potions and even magitech devices.

Because of this extraplanar rejection, however, the Nightblades assigned to post-battle cleanup, casually referred to as "scavengers," had to collect and process the demonic remains quickly.

Otherwise, the carcasses would disintegrate entirely into mana. That raw mana was able to bolster a magician's strength, but it paled in value compared to precious alchemical ingredients.

Most of the scavengers prioritized harvesting the carcasses of high-ranking demons like butchers and beholders outside the city. Their body parts—the butchers' cleavers and spine, and the beholders' eyes and neurons—were vital spoils for offsetting the losses the capital had suffered.

As for the demon carcasses within the city, those were left as rewards for the adventurers who had voluntarily defended the capital. Those spoils would represent a decent windfall, though those who lost their lives would hardly benefit.

The Hellgate incident had caused extensive, widespread destruction, but the overall losses were still relatively manageable.

The slums by the city walls, where the Hellgate had appeared, had been reduced to ruins under the combined onslaught of large-scale battlefield magic from Stevenson Academy and the royal guards. It had essentially been turned into a barren wasteland.

However, the slums weren't a major concern for the capital, and accounted for less than 10% of the total losses.

Another 20% came from the destruction caused by the infernal worms and minotaurs that had rampaged throughout the capital. These demons had killed a significant number of merchants, destroyed many commercial and residential buildings, and damaged countless goods. Many shops were likely to go bankrupt as a result, resulting in a cascade of economic consequences.

Around 10% of the losses were due to casualties. The city guards, who were not particularly powerful, suffered heavy losses. A staggering three in ten city guards had been killed, and a similar proportion were severely injured, a devastating blow.

The one silver lining was that Aleisterre wouldn't skimp on compensation. The surviving guards would be rewarded and even eyed favorably by nobles, who might recruit them into their well-paid private forces.

The remaining 60% of the losses came entirely from the special ops team's battle against Pernia and Colin.

The cost of the battle had been astronomical. Dozens of reality anchors, strategic tools used to suppress the void, were destroyed. Normally, these anchors would have lasted for centuries with regular maintenance, but they had been detonated en masse like alchemical bombs during the battle at immense expense.

Additionally, there was the destruction of the Abyssal Depths, one of the kingdom's most critical prisons...

"Not to sound rude, but isn't the security in our kingdom's prisons a bit too lax? All I had to do was show my identification to get in. There weren't even any proper inspections."

Back in the Echoing Hearth, Charles, Wang Yu, Avia, Sieg, and Hugin sat at a table piled high with food. Most of it was being devoured by Wang Yu, with Avia occasionally nibbling on something. The other three barely touched their plates.

Charles voiced his doubts about how easily the Abyssal Depths had been breached with an exaggerated expression on his face. As one of the kingdom's most secure prisons for void-related matters, it should have had defenses that were far harder to penetrate.

Wang Yu raised an eyebrow, continuing to eat his steak without pause. He, too, was curious about how Colin had managed to break into such a tightly guarded and confidential location, one he hadn't even known about before this incident.

"Do you know why it was so easy for them to let you in?" the Professor asked with a smirk.

"No. Why? Is there something I'm missing?" Charles scratched his head.

"If you had kept going down that staircase, you wouldn't have made it back out," Hugin replied, taking a drag from his cigarette and casually sipping his ale. He raised his glass to Wang Yu, offering him a drink.

Wang Yu waved his hand in refusal; he wasn't fond of alcohol.

"Huh?" Charles responded, puzzled. He hadn't noticed anything unusual about the lower levels of the staircase, aside from the unmistakable presence of the reality anchors. Yet those anchors had seemingly had no effect on Colin.

"That void entity—‘Mr. Colin,' I suppose—didn't dare go below the level where we fought. That lower level represents the true Abyssal Depths.

"They let you in so easily because they were certain that if you ventured deeper, you'd never make it out. As for the upper levels getting damaged, that's not a concern—those aren't the real Abyssal Depths,"

Hugin explained, glancing at Charles. "Without specialized equipment, anyone who goes down there will be passively ‘forgotten.'"

"Forgotten?" Charles shivered as he processed the word.

"I don't want to be forgotten. But is it really that bad?" he asked, his skepticism evident.

"Think back to the ‘Warlord' we subdued. I showed you his records—the one from Selwyn's countryside," the Professor prompted.

"Ah, I... I can't remember his name! That really is creepy," Charles stammered, a shiver running down his spine. He vividly recalled the other details in the records, but no matter how hard he tried, the Warlord's name eluded him.

Wang Yu tilted his head in thought, trying to recall its name, but soon gave up. He belatedly realized that he hadn't seen the report at all. Still, the concept of forced forgetting intrigued him—it seemed his unique mental resilience might protect him from such effects.

"Do you now understand why the security seemed so lax?" Sieg asked. "Colin wasn't there to breach the Abyssal Depths. His target was me, Captain Hugin, my body, and this supposed 'key.'"

"In other words, anyone trying to break into the true Abyssal Depths is basically walking into a death trap. There's no need to stop them," Hugin summarized.

"Got it," Charles replied, still a bit shaken. He hadn't realized how close he had come to vanishing entirely.

"What about this key? What is it that Colin was so desperate to find?" Charles couldn't suppress his curiosity.

Sieg exchanged glances with Hugin, who nodded in approval.

"Have you heard of the one they call the ‘closest to the void'?" Sieg asked Charles.

"Of course! The legendary wizard Roland, who surpassed the limits of magic. He's said to have used void energy to create this kingdom from nothing. Then, for some reason, he abandoned all his power and left behind thirteen—"Wait, what? That's real? I thought it was just a myth!" Charles exclaimed, cutting himself off. The stories of Roland had become so exaggerated over time that distinguishing fact from fiction was nearly impossible.

That was why Charles hadn't picked up on the connection himself.

"It's true. The concept of these ‘keys' only emerged in recent years. Someone has been hunting and collecting individuals with exceptional talent for wizardry. These people are believed to be ‘keys.' "But we don't have much information beyond that," Sieg continued. "It's unclear whether this is real or just another cult trying to conduct some ritual for a void deity."

"What? I hope no one's coming for me. My talent's too good to ignore!" Charles joked, hugging himself in mock fear and earning an eye-roll from Sieg.

Wang Yu, meanwhile, turned his gaze to Avia. Their eyes met. Both shared a serious, unspoken understanding.

Powerful talent for wizardry... Well, Avia was the most talented wizard Wang Yu knew. It seemed that he would have to pay attention to these "keys" in the future.

"Wang Yu, let me also take this opportunity to answer your earlier question, about why all regular members of the Nightblades must periodically travel to the capital for a closed briefing and inspection.

"This so-called ‘briefing' and inspection is essentially a pretense. After all, everyone can see the risks of this system. Leaving the Nightblades occupied for nearly an entire day is a glaring vulnerability, and this latest incident was largely due to that being exploited,"

Sieg began, switching from Charles' question to Wang Yu's.

"It really is odd, isn't it? It's a blatant flaw—why not handle things in staggered shifts?"

Who could have come up with something so ridiculous? Someone was sure to exploit such a vulnerability—and indeed, someone had.

"Not everyone has mental resistance as extreme as yours. To be honest, Wang Yu, your ability to completely ignore void corruption and other mental intrusions is something I've never seen before. Even an unwavering will doesn't suffice to prevent void corruption for the Nightblades,"

Sieg replied, his tone tinged with faint exasperation.

"The Nightblades operate on the frontlines against the chaotic void. Their resolve is unparalleled, but they also face the highest levels of corruption. Even the strongest barrier would erode under constant assault. The Nightblades are no exception—everyone's fallible, after all. That's why we need an insurance policy."

"So the true purpose of this 'briefing day'..."

Wang Yu recalled Sieg mentioning a sanatorium, where soldiers who had suffered mental breakdowns or transformations from fighting the void would be treated. He quickly gleaned the idea that this supposed ‘briefing day' was likely just a cover for some large-scale mental ritual.

"Exactly," Sieg said, nodding with a faint smile. Wang Yu caught on quickly.

As they talked, the bartender of the Echoing Heath approached and placed a scroll of parchment in front of Hugin. Hugin glanced at it, setting down his drink. For once, his typically stoic expression softened into a smile.

"Wang Yu, Charles, the king has summoned us. Let's go. Think about what rewards to ask for on the way."