Chapter 469: Royal Flush!
Deathly silence. Absolute, suffocating silence.
In this moment, the entire courtyard held not a whisper of sound.
The sole noise existing between heaven and earth was winter wind perpetually stirring pale fragments into ghostly spirals.
When Viktor raised his hand, universal comprehension dawned.
That deflected spear—Viktor had wielded magic to launch it back with lethal precision.
At this critical juncture, not one soul dared utter a word.
Countless nobles could only stand frozen in place like statues.
The final image seared into their retinas: that Second Prince transformed into a bull-headed demon, wild euphoria flooding his eyes amid absolute despair.
Yet this euphoria proved devastatingly fleeting.
As that glacial voice resonated, every gaze involuntarily converged upon Viktor.
That massive bull-headed demon now lay powerlessly upon the earth—the crimson luminescence within its cavernous eye sockets completely extinguished.
Symbolizing its eternal silence.
Meanwhile, distant Lia had mentally shut down entirely.
She stared vacantly at that motionless bull-headed demon, her lips unconsciously trembling with violent spasms:
"That... that Second Prince... no, no, no—that demon..."
"Is he... dead?"
What in heaven's name just occurred?
The Reiser family head can fly?
No, no—that's not the issue.
Viktor killed the Second Prince!?
Yes! Exactly that!
In that instant, Lia drew a shuddering breath before collapsing helplessly into Gwen's embrace.
It's over. Everything is completely, utterly over.
The hooded demon hunter beside them also lifted her head slightly—her shadow-concealed gaze similarly fixating upon the Second Prince's corpse.
At this moment, no voice remained.
Only oppressive silence blanketed everyone present.
Simultaneously, a voice of casual self-reflection drifted from the heavens above.
"Hmm? So that's the game?"
Cocotte currently reclined across a cloud in supreme comfort.
She cradled her cheeks with both palms, feet swaying leisurely back and forth.
As her attention focused upon Leopold, sudden enlightenment flashed through Cocotte's crystalline eyes.
Simply stated—she'd witnessed that defensive golden radiance manifesting around the Second Prince moments before.
No wonder Viktor initially requested her to alert the Mage Council.
Originally, she'd assumed Viktor wanted her inviting Council representatives to the Empire for demon extermination.
Now it appeared they'd hooked a considerably larger catch.
Observing Leopold emanating golden luminescence, Cocotte supported her chin while frowning thoughtfully.
"So... how exactly do we contain it?"
However, before she could begin strategizing, fresh developments emerged below.
Gurgling sounds slowly arose from the shattered courtyard.
The moment these noises registered, every gaze pivoted toward their source.
The Second Prince.
His bull-headed form now resembled boiling liquid—black foam bubbling across his body's surface.
Under everyone's horrified observation, the demon adhering to the Second Prince's flesh began gradually peeling away.
Dispersed obsidian smoke condensed into writhing masses, sliding down the Second Prince's garments like liquefied gore.
Overpowering metallic stench instantly saturated the entire courtyard.
Once all bull-demon flesh completely separated, Owiser's human body emerged from within.
He seemed to have replaced the previous bull-headed demon—sprawled motionlessly upon the ground.
Though his eyes remained clearly open, his gaze appeared hollow—utterly vacant of consciousness.
Across his limbs, lips, and forehead, those horrifically disturbing flesh wounds still gaped.
Another wave of silence engulfed the assembly.
But this time, the First Prince's voice suddenly shattered the quiet:
"Ow... Owiser!"
Albanie virtually lunged toward Owiser's prone form.
Half-kneeling upon the ground, he frantically shook his brother's unresponsive body.
Yet like someone whose breath had permanently ceased, Owiser exhibited zero reaction.
Witnessing this scene, the nobles' minds felt thunderstruck—explosions constantly detonating within their skulls.
Dead... dead?
The Second Prince is dead!?
Those nobles who'd originally championed the Second Prince's succession watched this unfold—their vision immediately blackening.
Almost instantaneously, brutal reality mercilessly consumed them, causing several to collapse sideways in unacceptable shock.
Fortunately, nearby companions supported their bodies, preventing skulls from striking stone.
"Baron Hunt, are you quite alright?"
The nearly-fallen noble was steadied by someone beside him. He managed a wan smile toward his helper while drawing a trembling breath.
Yet they all understood with crystalline clarity—maintaining tacit silence.
The Second Prince's faction had been utterly annihilated.
Observing this display of 'fraternal harmony,' Claudia's eyes harbored not the slightest trace of maternal compassion.
She slowly removed the silver mask from her face, revealing her true visage.
Half appeared normal, while the other half bore intricate blood-crimson patterns.
Finally, she gazed mercilessly upon the catatonic Second Prince, issuing her command with arctic indifference.
"Remove the Second Prince."
The demon hunters receiving orders moved with military precision, completely disregarding everyone present.
Directly before the First Prince's eyes, they forcibly dragged the Second Prince's body from the courtyard.
Albanie could only watch helplessly as his brother gradually vanished from sight.
Half-kneeling upon the ground, he slowly raised his head toward Claudia—the one who'd issued that pitiless command.
He could see his mother's face with perfect clarity.
Especially that half-visage covered in crimson markings—filling him with profound, alienating unfamiliarity.
"Mother... Owiser, he..."
"He must bear full responsibility for his actions."
Having spoken, she never spared Albanie another glance.
Her attention shifted toward Viktor and Leopold.
Following everything that had transpired, everyone recognized Leopold's fundamental corruption.
Especially Claudia—she'd experienced that mysterious power emanating from Leopold most directly.
That golden repulsive current deflecting her attack was definitely no coincidence.
Most crucially, Leopold had orchestrated participation in today's entire sequence of events.
Whether the southern chaos or today's demonic manifestations.
However, what puzzled her somewhat—Leopold appeared utterly indifferent to Owiser's fate.
After Owiser's attack, he'd merely stood stunned briefly.
Only after Owiser's removal had Leopold resumed that serene smile.
His gaze locked onto Viktor with laser intensity, golden radiance flowing through his eyes:
"Viktor Kravina."
"I have been observing you—from the precise moment you refused mediocrity's embrace."
At this juncture, Leopold suddenly raised his head—his golden-flowing gaze casually sweeping across the assembled nobility.
Whenever his attention fell upon any noble, that individual would instinctively duck their head, involuntarily avoiding his piercing scrutiny.
Leopold observed these nobles' reactions with obvious amusement, continuing his discourse:
"You comprehend these people's fundamental corruption better than I ever could."
"They embody greed. They epitomize selfishness."
"Their appetites can never achieve satisfaction."
With each pronouncement, surrounding nobles shamefully recalled their disgraceful behavior—arguing endlessly over mere gold coins.
The deeper their recollections, the lower their spines curved in humiliation.
Leopold slowly pivoted back, refocusing his attention upon Viktor.
He narrowed his eyes, his words seeming to contain magically hypnotic allure:
"But you, Viktor—you stand apart."
"You were born with natural superiority, never genuflecting before anyone. This precisely sparked your controversial reputation."
Genius always breeds isolation—and antisocial genius breeds complete ostracism.
The former Viktor had demonstrated this principle flawlessly.
As a fellow noble, he'd equally despised everyone without discrimination.
"Because you intimately understand their moral bankruptcy!"
Leopold's voice erupted with righteous fury.
His entire frame began arching backward, head tilting skyward.
As golden sand swirled rapidly through his pupils, the dense cloud cover seemed torn open—revealing a narrow celestial fissure.
Ethereal luminescence descended from above, draping across his aristocratic features.
Leopold bathed within this radiance, slowly closing his eyes:
"Therefore, this world requires complete restructuring."
His voice emerged softly, yet carried soul-shaking resonance.
Like cathedral bells tolling with solemn majesty, triggering powerful harmonic reverberations.
This declaration caused every noble to widen their eyes—shock and disbelief interweaving across their faces.
Under universal observation, Leopold smiled while again directing his gaze toward Viktor:
"Viktor, you possess tremendous power—sufficient to remain emotionally uncompromised."
"I have perpetually admired your strength."
"So..."
Bathed in golden illumination, he slowly extended his hand toward Viktor.
"Join our cause. Together, let us transform this excessively corrupt wor—"
Before his invitation concluded, that black-windcoated figure materialized before Leopold's composed countenance.
And delivered a devastating punch directly to his face.
The supersonic fist tore through dimensional space, generating explosive atmospheric detonations before Leopold's features.
Surrounding sounds seemed to fall silent with that punch's execution.
Yet Leopold observed everything with serene composure—golden contempt flickering through his eyes.
How could any mage's fist penetrate my impenetrable defen—
CRACK.
Accompanied by crystalline shattering, that punch connected solidly with Leopold's face.
In this instant, the golden barrier protecting his features fractured with hairline cracks.
Immediately, fissures began expanding exponentially—spider-webbing countless microscopic fractures around the impact epicenter.
CRACK!
SHATTER!
Crisp destruction echoed as countless golden fragments scattered through the air like dying stars.
Before Leopold could register shock, Viktor's incoming fist had already connected with his jaw.
BOOM—!!!
Under terrifying kinetic force, Leopold's face caved inward catastrophically.
Flesh rippled in violent waves while his entire jaw twisted grotesquely from the impact.
From that single punch, devastating air currents erupted beneath Viktor's feet—expanding outward with hurricane intensity.
Countless nobles found themselves blinded by these atmospheric shockwaves, raising hands desperately to shield themselves.
Leopold had already traced a lengthy golden trajectory alongside those shattered luminous fragments.
Like a meteor complete with blazing tail, he rode those air currents across vast distance.
CRASH!
Horrific stone-pulverizing sounds erupted as Leopold's entire form smashed into the courtyard's perimeter wall.
His limbs contorted unnaturally while foam spilled from his mouth.
In that moment, even his golden pupils lost all focus.
The nobles lowered their hands in stunned bewilderment—their minds suddenly buzzing with vacant static.
Abruptly, realization dawned. Every gaze converged upon Viktor's position.
At some indeterminate point, his left hand had acquired a golden bird-headed staff.
That staff appeared to pulse with residual magical energy—continuously channeling mysterious force through Viktor's arm.
One eye flickered with faint azure radiance, like flames dancing through darkness.
Even the obsidian crow perched upon his shoulder now wore a subtle fluorescent blue aura.
As if he'd accomplished something utterly trivial, Viktor withdrew his right fist—casually flexing his fingers.
Amid everyone's wide-eyed astonishment and complete bewilderment, his voice emerged with arctic authority:
"Did I grant you permission to speak?"
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