Double Dagger Delinquent

Chapter 96 The King

The doors shut behind them with a heavy thud. Iryoku and the girls turned, watching as they sealed shut, trapping them inside.

Carla, the maid, walked forward at a measured pace. She bowed before the man on the throne, then stepped aside and knelt beside Diana—the other maid—both lowering themselves in a clear display of submission.

Iryoku’s gaze shifted to the man seated at the center of it all.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, his face lined with old battle scars. A thick black beard, streaked with white, framed his jaw—a testament to age and hard-earned experience. Though older, he radiated power and authority.

He wore dark red armor beneath a massive black, fur-lined cloak. On his shoulders rested the mounted head of a bear, a single horn jutting from its skull. Atop his black-and-white hair sat a simple golden crown—regal without excess. He looked more like a barbarian warlord than a courtly ruler.

Flanking him stood two men in their thirties—unmistakably his sons. Both carried themselves with the ease of seasoned warriors.

One wore full armor, armed with a greatsword and a massive shield. The other, also armored, rested a colossal battle axe on his shoulder. They stood like sentinels—silent, imposing, unreadable.

The king spoke, his voice deep and rough.

"Well... continue, Jonas."

Alden Mor, King of Uruk, gave the order from his throne. Newest update provıded by NoveI★Fire.net

Iryoku and the girls turned their attention forward.

Jonas stood slightly ahead of Agnes, speaking clearly and confidently as he addressed the king.

"Your Majesty, as stated in my report: the champions summoned by Lady Agnes have shown remarkable adaptability. Their natural healing and—perhaps most notable—a rapid increase in strength and magical capability within a very short time."

Iryoku’s eyes widened. He turned sharply toward Jonas, his expression twisting with confusion.

King Alden rested his chin in his hand, his gaze drifting to Carla and Diana.

“Get up,” he said flatly. “Now—tell me about the Count’s death.”

Iryoku and Yumi stiffened in shock.

But it was Iryoku who tensed further, his eyes locking on Princess Agnes—the Count’s mimic standing just meters away.

She hadn’t moved. She stood hunched in the center of the hall—silent, head bowed, shoulders drawn in like a child ashamed of her wrongdoing.

He had expected her to speak.

To say something—anything.

But she remained silent. She looked small. Weak. Afraid.

Then Carla spoke.

“Your Highness, the champion known as Iryoku Taiyou has been presented as the primary perpetrator in the murder of Maximilian Maxwell, Count of Skarheim, from the western territories.”

The king sat unmoving, expression thoughtful. Then, without a word, he jerked his chin toward Diana.

“What else have you got? Spit it out.”

Diana’s voice was quiet but steady.

“Your Highness, based on all accounts and observations, it appears that Lady Agnes has been romantically involved with the aforementioned champion. She follows his commands and fulfills his wishes without question. After he killed Count Maxwell, she concealed the matter—using her summoned spirit, here present, to maintain the deception.”

The king’s eyes shifted toward the mimic of the late Count Maxwell.

“A deception. A desperate attempt to buy time.”

“I… I am unsure if they have engaged in intercourse, but—” Diana began, before trailing off, glancing toward the still-hunched figure of Agnes.

Agnes remained silent, unmoving—until, almost absentmindedly, she rubbed her belly.

Iryoku stood frozen. A storm of fury churned inside him, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

He knew—he shouldn’t have trusted these people. What had he expected from strangers in this foreign world?

These were Agnes’s closest servants.

The ones who bowed politely, smiled gently, and offered their support.

And now they were revealing everything—

like spies who had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

At the same time, Yumi, Reika, and Alessandra were looking around as well—each lost in thought, their minds racing.

For a moment, they turned toward Iryoku, hoping to find some signal, some silent plan for how to escape this mess.

But his face only showed rage—

a quiet, dangerous fury that looked ready to explode.

Diana continued:

"It was mentioned by the champion that he intended to kill all of the Death Tree Knights who served under the late Count. I’m unsure how many they’ve actually slain—or the full extent of the damage they’ve caused to the kingdom during their time here."

King Alden raised a hand, cutting her off.

"Enough."

He turned his cold gaze to the two maids.

"You two. I expect you in my chambers tonight. Be prepared."

Carla and Diana nodded without hesitation. They returned to their place, then dropped to their knees, lowering themselves to the floor in submission—heads pressed against the ground, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Then Alden turned his gaze to one of the mages standing nearby—a man clad in richly adorned robes, gripping an ornate staff. He looked ancient, his presence marked by wisdom and the weight of years.

"Was it worth it, Magister Eidrith?" the king asked, his voice low and steady.

"All this chaos—for the power of these champions from another realm?"

He didn’t even glance at Iryoku or the others.

The mage answered in a calm, weary tone.

"How many demons have they truly bested? How many lives have they saved? What real contribution have they made to the kingdom—and to His Majesty?"

He shook his head slowly, as if disappointed.

Then his eyes shifted back to Jonas.

"Healer Jonas?"

Without hesitation, Jonas replied,

"Master Eidrith, aside from their initial arrival and the battles against lesser demons, the three champions—Yumi Chiisai, Reika Rizumu, and Alessandra Mamoru—played a vital role during the second demonic incursion. An exalted demon, a were-mammoth classified as a city-level threat, was defeated with their help. They fought alongside Commander Joseph and Princess Agnes to repel the creature and its minions."

Eidrith interrupted.

"But didn’t your report say the exalted demon was ultimately destroyed by a pillar of light from the heavens?"

Jonas nodded.

"That’s correct, Master Eidrith."

Then King Alden spoke again, this time more thoughtfully.

"On the front lines, many of the demons attacking our allied kingdoms were consumed by those same beams of light. We ourselves witnessed them—great radiant columns raining from the skies, obliterating the monstrous invaders. We saw the massive creature rise from the Holy Mountain and unleash the light indiscriminately."

At the mention, Iryoku’s eyes narrowed. A memory stirred—unwelcome and sharp. He couldn’t suppress the reaction.

The moment returned to him: he and Deborah, locked in desperate battle with the dragon.

But the king’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Agnes," he said—his tone even deeper and more commanding.

All this time, he hadn’t even looked at her.

Not until now.

Agnes’s body trembled slightly as she looked up at the king.

Both of her hands, which had been rubbing her belly moments before, moved up in front of her chest, trembling—like she wanted to shield herself.

"I’m disappointed," the king said, his voice heavy with disdain.

"I gave you an opportunity—to serve the kingdom, to serve me—but you’ve proven, again and again, to be incompetent."

"You— with the authority I gave you— you didn’t just get one of our most important nobles killed, you probably lit a fire under every scheming bastard in the court. You’ve stirred up trouble in the politics, wasted resources like a fool, and when the first demon attack hit? Pathetic. With your strength, you should’ve crushed those low-born monsters. And Joseph was right there with you—yet…"

Alden stopped, shaking his head in disgust.

Each word from her father landed on her like a dagger to the chest.

The king continued,

“A barren woman who can’t fulfill her purpose and breed strong warriors is useless in my hall. You can’t even do the one thing a woman is supposed to.”

His words dripped with contempt.

Iryoku and the girls gasped in shock.

This was the first time they had ever heard anything like this about her.

Iryoku’s eyes widened.

But she was a virgin when I had her, he thought, mind racing.

How the hell does he know she’s sterile?

Agnes, on the verge of tears, gazed up at her father.

The king pressed on.

“You had the advantage of your long lifespan and the magical capabilities granted by your elven blood. You had forty years to learn under your master, Vitka—forty years, and still you never came close to her power.”

He shook his head slowly.

“I was hoping you’d at least be worth something in that regard… but you’re a letdown through and through. No noble bastard would take you as a wife. The only use left for you would’ve been warming beds—if I’d had my way. But your master swore you had talent, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. And what did I get? Mediocre results.”

A voice cut through the hall like a blade.

“How can you call yourself a man?”

The words slammed into the silence, and the hall erupted in a chorus of gasps. Heads whipped toward Iryoku’s group.

Alessandra stood tall, her voice strong and unwavering.

“Denigrating your own daughter?”

“Who the fuck told you to open your mouth, woman?” barked one of the king’s sons—the one with the massive axe. He lifted the enormous weapon with one hand, pointing its edge straight at her.

Alessandra stood on guard, teeth clenched.

Iryoku's fury surged, pushing him to the edge of exploding.

But the king only laughed and raised a hand, signaling his son to stand down. He smiled, then looked back toward Agnes.

"Agnes. Before I pass my judgment—what do you have to say for yourself?"

All eyes turned to her.

Her voice came out small, trembling.

“Your… Highness… the champions’ power is vital for defeating the demons. They—”

The king cut her off.

“The demons ran because of our strength—and the light from that giant beast. Not because of your strays.”

Agnes faltered.

“They can work miracles. I’ve seen it. I assure you—they can be of use to you and the kingdom.”

Her next words came out in a shuddering breath.

“I… I… think I’m pregnant.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she rubbed her belly again, trembling.

Iryoku and the girls froze, shocked.

The king looked at her with cold skepticism.

“What madness is in your head? You know full well half-breeds like you can’t reproduce. You’re cursed children. Races shouldn’t mix—that’s why it’s damn near impossible for a child to be born from different races. From a hybrid? Nothing comes out.”

But Agnes, on the verge of sobbing, shook her head.

"But he impregnated me. I can feel it. There’s something growing inside me—something powerful. A force I’ve never known, cultivating deep within. And I haven’t bled in weeks. I know I can produce a true, worthy warrior for the kingdom. He will inherit Your Highness’s might—as well as the champions’ unusual growth and potential..."

"Enough of that," the king interrupted again. "Why the hell did you drag these outsiders here?"

Agnes swallowed hard. "Your Highness… we were about to lose. Master Vitka taught me this summoning spell—"

"Yeah, I know about Vitka’s dusty old research and her freak magic. But she knows when to use it—and she delivers when I tell her to. You know why that old, dried-up woman has so much freedom?"

Agnes was void of words.

"I… I…"

"If they’re so damn useful, why didn’t you send them to the front under my banner? Let them bleed for me against the demons?"

Iryoku watched as all eyes turned against Agnes.

Then he caught Jonas’s face—subtly smiling as he looked down at her.

The king rubbed his forehead, clearly irritated.

"Anyone else got something worth my time?"

Darragh Mor—the son with the sword and shield—spoke first.

"We could at least test her claim, Father. If it’s true… it might be worth keeping her around." His grin twisted with malice.

The king’s gaze shifted to Garron Mor, the axe-wielder, who said nothing but eyed Iryoku’s group with a predator’s stare. He licked his lips, then nodded at the king.

Suddenly, Agnes realized her mistake.

She lifted her hands to her head and shook it, eyes wide with regret. Slowly, she turned slightly, and her gaze landed on Iryoku and the girls.

"This is my judgment," said Alden Mor, the Conqueror King. His voice was final.

He pointed at Iryoku, finally acknowledging him.

"You—Iryoku—hand over your mythical weapon, and I’ll let you keep your head on your shoulders."

Iryoku’s eyes snapped to Jonas’s smug face.

That fucker… he even snitched about my harpoon.

That’s why he was so fixated on it that time.

The king’s voice cut through his thoughts.

"You’re coming into my army. We march south for conquest soon. Or… I’ll hand you over to Alexander Maxwell, the Death Tree, for killing his brat—and you’ll be begging for death before he’s done with you."

The king’s gaze slid past Iryoku—toward the women standing behind him.

And Iryoku saw it.

That look.

The unmistakable, ugly hunger in the old man’s eyes.

“As for the three pretty little things—Alessandra, Reika, and Yumi…” His lips curled into a slow, wolfish grin. “You’ll be warming beds for me and my boys. If Agnes isn’t lying, you’ll breed sons—whether you’re willing… or screaming.”

The smile that followed was pure cruelty.

“Hah! The red-haired knight’s mine,” Garron barked, his laughter booming through the hall. “I like her fire. Can’t wait to bend her over—break her completely.”

Alessandra’s jaw clenched, fury blazing in her eyes. Her hand twitched toward her weapon.

“I’ll take the black-haired mage,” Darragh said, his grin widening as he looked Reika up and down. “I’ll whip that noble attitude right out of her… until she learns how to please a man of Mor.”

Reika’s face went white, her lips parting in silent shock. Disgust and fear warred in her eyes.

King Alden chuckled darkly.

“You both know my tastes.” His gaze locked on Yumi’s small, curvy frame.

“Come here, little doll. Time to put that body to proper use… for your king.”

His eyes gleamed—cold, hungry, predatory.

Yumi trembled, her body freezing up.

She hadn’t felt like this since the worst moments back in school—when the boys ogled her like she was nothing but an object, and when she was bullied by the girls.

Her eyes shimmered with fear.

Something inside Iryoku snapped.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

His body shook with rage—so fierce he nearly spat blood from the pressure. In an instant, his hand moved faster than anyone could react.

CRACK!

His harpoon shot from his hand, a long white-glowing rope trailing behind it—unleashed at immeasurable speed.