Chapter 181 : The Marquis's Private Army (1)
The Duchy of Artezia.
“Is everyone present?” the Duke of Artezia asked, his voice a low murmur that filled his study. His gaze swept over the figures gathered before him.
The assembly was the same as the last, yet fundamentally different. While the faces had not changed, the air around them crackled with a latent power that was on another level entirely.
The Veilwarden of Death Veil had grown so formidable that her former titles felt like relics.
The Ogre Chieftain and the Aura Masters now carried themselves with an authority that could challenge the Twelve Nobles themselves.
And then there was the Imperial Marquis, so laden with Dark Relics that an outsider might mistake his borrowed radiance for the Emperor's own.
“Heh. To what do we owe the pleasure, Your Grace?” the Marquis asked, a courtesan draped on each arm. He was a fool, possessing little power of his own, but his arrogance was world-class.
“Must I have a reason to summon my vassals?” the Duke replied, his tone flat.
“Hmm. It seems Your Grace wishes to play the commander now,” the Marquis sneered, his eyes narrowing to slits.
The Ogre Chieftain bared his teeth. “Watch your tongue, Marquis. You overstep.”
“Ha! A beast presumes to speak,” the Marquis shot back. “Do you fancy yourself a man now, simply because the Duke suffers your presence?”
“Are you insulting my people?” the Ogre Chieftain growled, clenching his fists with a sound like grinding stone.
“Oh? Do you want to test me? Perhaps the beast has a death wish.”
A wave of demonic energy flared from the Dark Relics adorning the Marquis. In that tense, explosive moment…
“My, my. If you two are going to play, don’t you want to let me join in?”
The Veilwarden’s voice purred from two places at once. She appeared as two, a dagger pressed to each of their throats—a new art of duplication she had mastered in the Demonic Realm.
A single drop of blood traced a path down the Ogre Chieftain’s thick neck. A matching red line bloomed beneath the Marquis’s chin.
The two swallowed hard and froze, their eyes locked on the smirking assassin.
With a flick of her wrists, she withdrew her daggers.
“Now, now. Let’s all be friends.”
As the killing intent vanished, the Marquis gasped for air. A moment later, his face contorted with rage.
“What is the meaning of this!” he roared at the Veilwarden. “A common harlot dares threaten me?!”
“Ahaha! For all your bluster, I think you’ve soiled yourself.”
“You… you insolent—!”
The Marquis moved to activate his relics again, but the motion died in his throat. The Duke had crossed the room in an instant and seized him by the head.
“What in the—!”
The Duke slammed the Marquis’s face into the heavy oak table.
A spray of blood erupted from the Marquis’s lips as a choked groan escaped him. But the Duke was not finished.
Again and again, he drove the Marquis’s head into the wood until the man’s face was a mangled ruin of shattered teeth, broken bone, and swollen flesh.
“I… I was wrong! Y-Your Grace! Forgive… forgive me…!” the Marquis begged, managing to raise a trembling hand.
Only then did the Duke stop, releasing his grip.
“Marquis,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “Do not cause a disturbance in my home again. If you try a stunt like this one more time, I will personally sever that head from your neck and feed it to the hounds of the Demonic Realm.”
“I… I understand!”
“Hmph.”
The Duke lightly patted the Marquis’s ruined cheek before returning to his seat.
“Heal him.”
One of the Aura Masters, a woman who had once been a paladin of the Holy Kingdom, stepped forward. Now she served the Demon God, her healing Aura twisted to a new purpose.
“…Do I have to?” she muttered.
“Would you prefer to take his place?”
She clicked her tongue. “Fine.”
She placed a hand on the Marquis’s head. With a sickening crunch, she kneaded his face, and his wounds vanished without a trace, bones snapping back into place.
“There,” she said, wiping her hand. “Doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?”
The Marquis nodded numbly.
Watching the scene, the Duke let out a faint sigh. “Now,” he began, his voice commanding their full attention, “let us focus.”
“Yes, sir!” the paladin shouted, snapping a crisp salute.
“Hmph. To the matter at hand. I have gathered you because the time has come.”
“The time?”
“Indeed.”
The Duke struck the floor with his staff. Demonic energy bled from the ground, slithering up to coalesce before them.
“As you know, the Demonkin army has shattered the Empire. The territory is vast, so some areas remain untouched, but that will not last.”
“True enough,” the Ogre Chieftain rumbled. “Are we to join the war, then?”
“We will participate, yes. But we have no reason to do the Demonkin any favors.”
The Duke gestured with his staff, and the swirling energy formed a map of the Empire.
He tapped a region on the map with his staff. “We will strike here. Now.”
“Isn’t that where the Demonkin army is currently stationed?” the Ogre Chieftain asked.
The Duke nodded. “Correct. It is the current position of the War Baron, one of the Twelve Nobles.”
“Then… you intend to help humanity?”
“Of course not,” the Duke sneered. “I intend for us to become a third power in this war. I want us, and only us, to be the victors in this conflict between humanity and Demonkin.”
“Is that possible?”
“It is. After all,” the Duke said, gesturing to the figures assembled before him, “I have my new Legion Commanders right here. The title of ‘Twelve Nobles’ is nothing special. If you can seize their power, you are more than worthy of it. And the method…”
He produced a pulsing red jewel from his robes.
“…is right here. Kill them. When their connection to the Abyss is severed upon death, use this jewel. You will then be able to wield their power as your own.”
“Are there any we should strike first?” the Veilwarden asked, her eyes gleaming.
“The Countess of Slaughter is yours. The War Baron belongs to you, Ogre Chieftain. Those are your primary targets.”
The Ogre Chieftain nodded. A moment later, he asked, “What should we do if we encounter human forces?”
“Why ask the obvious?” the Duke’s tone was cold. “You will kill them all.”
They were not on humanity’s side. They had no intention of joining the Demonkin, nor did they aspire to be heroes.
Their goal was singular.
To become the sole victors of this world—to forge a new empire that united Demonkin and humanity under a single, absolute ruler.
Was that not his lifelong dream?
“Kill the humans,” the Duke commanded. “As for the Demonkin, use the jewels to seize their power.”
The others knelt and bowed their heads.
“As you command!”
One by one, the Duke’s new subordinates departed for the battlefield, leaving only the Marquis, still trembling in the study.
“Marquis.”
“Y-yes!”
“How is Hera?”
“Sh-she is doing well! She even follows my orders now!”
“Good.”
A twisted smile played on the Duke’s lips. Hera was likely burning with a thirst for vengeance, just as the woman who had visited her had instructed. A singular obsession to kill two people: him and Louis Berg.
And the girl never suspected who had truly set her on this path.
“Very well. You may leave,” the Duke said with a dismissive wave.
As the Marquis scrambled out of the study, the Duke watched his retreating figure from the window and murmured to himself.
“A new world is coming. And it will be forged in my image.”
* * *
As we traveled toward the Empire, the Grand Duke was instructing me on the nature of the Mindscape.
“A Mindscape, in its essence,” he began, “is the realization of one’s true self.
The method he described was a form of profound introspection.
Who am I?
What are my desires? What is the origin of my Aura?
Self-reflection, he explained, was the first gate.
“…Who am I?” I murmured, slowly opening my hand to stare at the lines on my palm.
Was I the disgrace of House Berg, a hunting dog discarded by Artezia? Or was I the adopted son-in-law of House Praha, living a new life granted by regression?
A spearman, or an archer?
The identities tangled into a chaotic knot in my mind.
A low groan escaped me.
The Grand Duke chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder. “So you are human after all. With your genius, I was beginning to wonder if you were something else entirely.”
Genius? Far from it. I was a man who had to live twice just to reach the threshold of true mastery. That was who I was.
Defining myself is difficult.
For the first time, having lived two lives was holding me back.
“This is difficult,” I admitted.
“It is meant to be. It is not a skill every Grand Master acquires. Though, of course,” he added with a grin, “every one of them who has reached my level has managed it.”
Insufferable old man.
I shot him a sidelong glance before turning my thoughts to the others.
Mastering a Mindscape was important, but it was more critical that my companions also reached the rank of Grand Master.
“Is there any way for them to reach it?” I asked.
“Hm? That lot?” The Grand Duke glanced over at my companions.
After a moment, he said, “I am not certain. The young assassin seems poised to find his way, if he embraces his heritage. But for Lea and Lancelot, they have no choice but to break through the wall on their own. And that knight, Roxen, is not yet a complete Grand Master himself.”
Just as I thought.
I clicked my tongue. Lea would likely break through after a few more life-or-death battles. She was, after all, one of the greatest talents on the continent. With others paving the way, she would surely find her footing.
The same went for Kai. His Slayer’s Birthright was a power said to be capable of felling even the heavens. With proper training at the Death Veil, he would undoubtedly reach the pinnacle.
The problem was Roxen and Lancelot.
Lancelot was a mid-level Aura Master, and even that was a recent, incomplete mastery. No matter how many battles he fought, I wasn't sure he could advance beyond the highest level of Master.
As for Roxen…
He lacks a progenitor for his sword style.
Only the previous Grand Master, Sir Lindal, could have guided him properly. And Sir Lindal was dead.
Hmph. I suppose I’ll have to find a shortcut, even an unorthodox one.
What other choice was there? If orthodox methods wouldn't suffice, I would forge a new path. I would drag them to the summit if I had to.
As I walked, lost in my plans, a voice cut through the air.
“Oi!”
A figure stood in our path, blocking the road to the Empire.