Chapter 125

‘Just what kind of relics are these?’

There weren’t many in number.

But each and every one of them was far from ordinary.

‘Isn’t that Thor’s Wrath? I thought that was the heirloom of the Ghost Sword Maga. Why is it here? Hah, even the Spear of the Abyss? That spear alone killed so many knights from the alliance.’

Relics of renown were lined up in abundance.

Even those he had never heard of didn’t appear to be ordinary.

“This ring expands the thought-form of willpower. Simply put, it amplifies the power of will across several dimensions. And it cuts down mana consumption by half.”

Merian explained each item one by one.

Every single one was incredibly useful.

However, the more Christian looked around, the more conflicted his expression became.

‘These are great and all, but… there’s barely anything here I can actually use.’

They were all high-grade relics, most of which had usage requirements of at least a 6-star master level.

‘No, there must be something suitable for me. Nordian wouldn’t have opened this vault without knowing my capabilities.’

Sure enough, Chris soon found something fitting for him.

A blood-colored demonic sword.

Nordian chuckled as he explained.

[It’s a demonic sword called Devourer. When soaked in the enemy’s blood, it restores the wielder’s stamina and enhances various physical attributes. It should be useful enough.]

It was far more than just “useful.”

No matter how exhausted he was, the more enemies he cut down, the more strength he could recover.

Considering he might face overwhelming numbers at the Gold Cross, it would become a tremendous asset.

On top of that, it could even reinforce Chris’s lacking basic physical stats, making it the perfect item.

“…May I look around a bit more?”

[Hmm? Judging by your current level, I doubt there’s anything more suitable than this.]

A tone that implied he wanted Chris to pick the demonic sword.

But Chris shook his head.

“I’d like to look just once more.”

‘It’s strange… It just doesn’t pull me in.’ It was a gut feeling.

He felt as though something else was calling to him.

Eventually—

“…What is this item?”

Chris froze as he noticed an object lying discarded in the corner like junk.

A plain sword, so ordinary that it was hard to believe it was a relic.

There was no energy emanating from it at all.

[That’s a demonic sword His Majesty the Demon Emperor bestowed upon the main family 200 years ago. Since it came from His Majesty, we’ve kept it as a treasure, but it’s not a remarkable item. It has no particular utility, so Devourer is far better than that piece of junk.]

Nordian said curtly.

But Chris couldn’t take his eyes off the sword.

His pupils trembled faintly—something no one noticed.

‘Impossible… Why is this sword here?’

Chris knew exactly what that sword was.

There was no way he couldn’t.

It was the most renowned sword alongside the Hero’s Holy Sword ‘Revangel’ during the Age of Ruin.

The Star-Slaying Sword.

The Abyssal Demonic Sword, Andril.

It was the blade once wielded by the Blood-Drenched Demon King, Idrynne.

‘I always wondered where that demonic sword ended up… To think it was with the Dark Demonic House all along.’

His heart pounded.

The sight of the Blood-Drenched Demon King swinging the Abyssal Sword Andril came to mind.

The Andril she wielded was nothing short of catastrophe incarnate.

With it, she had even cut down a Constellation that had descended to the mortal realm.

‘Of course, I can’t even begin to unleash that kind of power right now.’

To fully unseal Andril and reveal its true nature would require reaching at least 9-star level.

That was why no one in the Dark Demonic House had ever recognized its true worth.

For the current Chris, that level was still a faraway dream.

“I’ll take this sword.”

‘Even in its current state, this sword is far from useless for someone like me.’ Depending on how it was used, it could be more powerful than any other demonic sword.

‘Even sealed, the immortality inherent to Andril should remain intact. That trait alone rivals the utility of any demonic sword.’

And that wasn’t all.

As he grew stronger, he could interfere with the seal and manifest other latent attributes hidden within Andril.

If he could manifest even a portion of one of its abilities—‘Perfection’—it would be an overwhelming power.

Unlocking ‘Infinity’ would allow it to undergo endless transformations.

It was, without question, the finest weapon he could obtain, yet Nordian and Merian both showed ambiguous reactions.

[You really want that scrap metal? Why, of all things?]

“…Wouldn’t it be meaningful to punish those despicable alliance bastards using a sword bestowed by His Majesty the Demon Emperor? I’m sure His Majesty would be pleased to hear of it as well.”

[That’s such a damnably pretentious thing to say… but even so, Devourer would be a better pick than that junk.]

“…I apologize. But I’ve decided—I’ll choose this sword.”

When Chris remained firm in his choice, Nordian narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

Just as Merian’s expression grew tense, fearing Nordian might lash out—

[You reckless brat… Fine. Then take Devourer with you as well.]

“Patriarch?”

Merian gasped in surprise.

“But by law, only one relic may be taken out of the family’s vault at a time…”

[What does it matter? I gave permission. As the patriarch, I am the law.]

Nordian continued with a scowl on his face.

[However, Devourer is only a temporary loan for this mission. Understood?]

Even if it was a one-time loan, it was a significant favor.

Most of all, Chris was a genius.

By using Devourer, he might even be able to mimic and learn some of the techniques embedded in the sword.

It was a generous consideration that would greatly help Chris.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to deliver a decisive blow to those Gold Cross bastards, just as you intend.”

Nordian replied in a still-displeased tone.

[Enough. Now get going.]

The moment Nordian waved his hand, the scene shifted, and Chris vanished from the vault.

Once the two of them were alone, Merian looked at Nordian with a faintly unreadable gaze.

[Why are you looking at me like that?]

“…It’s nothing. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

It was unlike the Nordian she knew.

Nordian seemed to sense the same and shut his mouth in clear displeasure.

Then, he brought up something unexpected.

[Merian, do you know why I prevented Langham—that child—from succeeding as patriarch?]

“Isn’t it because Brother failed to surpass the wall of 8-stars?”

There was an unspoken rule among the Twelve Noble Demonic Houses.

The patriarch must be a Demon Lord who has reached 8-star rank.

Unless under extremely special circumstances, no one had ever become the head of a Noble Demonic House without attaining 8 stars.

“So you decided to pass the title to the next generation, someone more talented…”

[And when exactly is that supposed to happen?]

“!!”

The old patriarch let out a bitter chuckle.

[The number of days I have left to live isn’t long. I’ve long since exhausted my natural lifespan, and even with Heaven-defying forbidden arts, I can’t hold out more than two years.]

Two years was an overly generous estimate.

In truth, far less time likely remained.

There was no way the next generation could reach 8 stars in that short span.

“Then why…?”

[I pushed Langham into a corner on purpose.]

“!!”

[I wanted him to resent and hate the day he fell into despair… to overcome his limits, to one day surpass me, kill me, and ascend as patriarch by his own hands.]

That was it.

This was Nordian’s true intention.

Because without doing so, there was no way for the Dark Demonic House to survive the coming storm.

[But lately, I’ve started thinking differently.]

Nordian continued slowly, as if letting the words settle.

[Christian.]

“!!”

[I find myself wanting to place my hopes on that child.]

It was a thought even Nordian couldn’t fully understand.

No matter how much of a genius Christian was, the gap between him and Marquis Langham was as vast as the heavens and the earth.

For Christian to surpass Langham in the short time Nordian had left to live was completely unrealistic.

[Still… I want Christian to surpass Langham.]

Nordian’s gaze turned toward the distant void.

As if groping for a future not yet arrived.

[So that one day, I can see Christian become the master of the Dark Demonic House.]

Without doubt.

He would become a greater patriarch than any who came before.

And the Dark Demonic House would shine within the radiant darkness.

* * *

Back in his quarters, Chris had hoped to finally enjoy a sweet, long-awaited rest… but he couldn’t.

The moment he returned, Nordian summoned him again to the annex for further instruction.

‘Damn it, why bother sending me back if you were just going to call me again? He could’ve just taught me everything there.’

But he couldn’t complain.

What Nordian was teaching him were the "secret arts" of the Dark Demonic Arts.

Secret arts.

Forbidden techniques that maximized the Dark Demonic Arts, passed down only through direct bloodlines.

“Did you take all that in? We don’t have much time, so I’ll just pass on the incantation first. Even for you, it’ll be difficult to grasp immediately, so just memorize it for now and ponder its meaning in your spare time…”

‘Hmm, I more or less get it.’ Chris scratched his head.

Even if it was a secret art, if the best teacher kindly broke it down and explained it in detail, it’d be a disgrace not to understand—it would mean you weren’t a genius.

When he asked for clarification on a few vague points, it turned out they pierced straight to the fundamental core of the art, and both Nordian and Merian stared at him in shock.

Well, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen that kind of look.

Anyway, after that brief crash-course in secret techniques, he returned to his quarters.

He was finally going to slack off during the little free time he had left.

‘Damn it, I still have to select the members of the envoy I’ll be traveling with.’

By the way, there was an unspoken rule between the Magus Empire and the Alliance.

The envoy was never to exceed three people total, and high-ranking personnel above 5-star level were excluded by convention.

The reasons for this restriction differed between the two sides: from the Alliance’s side, they were fed up with high-ranking Magi sent as envoys attempting suicide assassinations against their kings and ministers, so they put their foot down.

‘On the other hand, our Magus Empire kept beheading the envoys sent by the Alliance, so they stopped sending high-ranking personnel altogether.’

In any case, that meant three people, all below 5-star rank.

Taking Melin and Alros, both of whom were his subordinates, would’ve been ideal—except there was a problem.

‘Melin’s apparently on the verge of breaking through the wall to 5-stars.’

Chris narrowed his eyes.

They had often sparred while traveling together, and it seemed she had gained some insights from it.

It was a critical stage.

“Melin, you’re sitting this one out.”

“But?”

“I know it’s an important moment. Go into closed-door training and consolidate all you’ve gained so far.”

“I can’t accept that!”

Melin shook her head as if it were nonsense, but Chris remained firm.

“It’s an order. You becoming stronger is more helpful to me.”

With Melin stepping down, he needed to find someone else.

‘First, Alros is a lock.’

Alros, his face pale, stammered, “Uh, can’t I be left out? Hic, hic.”

He looked completely unreliable, but even someone like him had his uses, so Chris decided to bring him along.

‘Now, among the 4-star elite Magi… someone I can take…’

He was still thinking when the door to his quarters suddenly slid open.

Then came a blunt voice.

“I’ll go.”

“…You?”

Chris asked in a somewhat dumbfounded tone.

It was Jupien.