Chapter 156

It wasn’t as if 5-star or higher demons were rare within the Dark Demon Army. There were quite a few.

However, none of the 5-star demons in the Dark Demon Army had ever displayed such overwhelming pressure.

If Christian’s level had been at the peak of 5-star, the upper rank, it could be forcefully reasoned.

But hadn’t Christian just barely reached 5-star?

And yet, just looking at him evoked a terrifying sense of pressure.

Demons of lower rank were so overwhelmed they could barely meet his eyes, and those of mid-tier had to raise their own demonic energy just to stay composed.

But the ones who were most shocked were the high-ranking demons.

Those who had reached the upper tier of 5-star.

Those standing just before the wall of 6-star widened their eyes, realizing how Christian was emanating such intense pressure.

‘He’s reforged his own vessel? How?’

The vessel is an abstract and variable concept.

It grows with accumulated effort, achievements, and experience—but it can also shrink.

It can also develop cracks for various reasons.

At first, the cracks aren’t noticeable, but later, they inevitably become a hindrance.

However, damage to the vessel is something unavoidable.

Scratches on a vessel from use are inevitable.

Thus, every high-ranking demon carries some kind of issue with their vessel, big or small.

What matters is whether that issue can be overcome.

The best method is to reforge the vessel entirely—like melting it down in a furnace and remaking it anew.

No lingering issues. Perfectly clean.

But that’s easier said than done.

Even those who reach upper-tier 5-star—or even among 6-star demons—many still haven’t been able to reforge their vessel.

Many high-ranking demons merely cover up their vessel’s flaws with stopgap solutions, but to have fully reforged it in such a short amount of time?

Christian thought calmly to himself.

‘Well, it wasn’t that hard. I just fixed the imbalance in my vessel that had been my main problem all along, and reforged it through training.’

Now that the previously flawed vessel had become perfect, it emitted an even deeper pressure.

And it wasn’t just the pressure that had intensified.

Even at the same star level, there’s a massive difference between someone with a flawless vessel and someone without.

That leads to a tangible increase in actual power.

“Impressive indeed. They don’t call him a genius of the Main House for nothing.”

One of the figures seated at the top of the platform spoke.

It was Leon, the third among the Five Commanders.

The second commander, Duke, spoke heavily.

“We’d better not let our guard down. Something’s not right here.”

There were three of the Five Commanders present in the arena now.

Second, Duke; third, Leon; and the youngest, Sanin.

The other two were on border watch duty at the wall.

“What do you think, Young Lord Sanin? Think you can handle it? Or should I step in instead? You didn’t look all that well earlier.”

Leon asked with a slight grin.

“I don’t think you’ll lose, but if you do, that’d be pretty embarrassing.”

“!!”

Sanin ground his teeth.

“That won’t happen.”

“Hmm, I still think you’d better not push yourself too hard.”

“Don’t insult me with such nonsense. Don’t try to mock me with baseless words.”

Leon chuckled.

It was a mischievous laugh, not one that actually suggested he believed Sanin would lose.

Even if Christian had reforged his vessel, the gap in level was still far too great.

“Still, don’t let your guard down.”

“Hmph.”

Sanin stood from the platform and stepped down into the arena.

The two now stood facing each other.

“His Excellency the Marquis will not be observing the duel, as he has other matters to attend to.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll ask one last time. Do you have any intention of forfeiting this duel?”

Sanin spoke in a low voice.

“My Willblade is wild by nature—I can’t promise I won’t draw blood. I won’t take responsibility if you die or become crippled.”

A chilling declaration.

But it wasn’t just a bluff.

A Willblade was a secret technique that pushed the limits of reality with sheer willpower.

Its power was difficult to control.

If Christian couldn’t withstand it, as Sanin said, a serious accident could occur.

From Sanin’s perspective, it was a sincere warning.

“May I say something too?”

“…What is it?”

“If you lose, don’t start bawling. Like I said before, I hate seeing thirty-something big brothers crying.”

“!!”

Sanin’s face burned with rage.

“You—!!”

At that moment—

Darkness flashed.

It was Black Steel Aura.

Christian launched a surprise attack without warning.

* * *

Meanwhile, at that time—

At the towering spire in the territory of Marquis Shupen, an unexpected conversation was taking place.

“…Why have you come here?”

[Did I not say? It’s an inspection.]

“…All of a sudden?”

[Yes. You sound displeased. Am I somewhere I shouldn’t be?]

“That’s not what I meant.”

Marquis Shupen made a sour expression.

It was because of the identity of the one before him.

The appearance of a small, young boy.

It was the avatar of the former Head of the Main House—Nordian!

To be exact, it was a Thoughtform.

Because of the distance, it wasn’t an actual avatar—only his consciousness had been projected into the Marquisate of Shupen.

“Have you come to watch Christian’s duel?”

[Absolutely not. That rude brat didn’t even bother to greet his master before leaving. What’s so lovely about that?]

Nordian scowled deeply.

[If he had to leave in a hurry, he should’ve at least sent a letter. It’s been over two months with no word. What kind of disciple is that? All he ever thinks about is using me.]

“……”

Marquis Shupen fell silent.

It was because Nordian looked just like a sulky old man upset with his grandson.

If Merian or Simon were here, they’d be nodding their heads vigorously—that he was definitely sulking.

Only Merian and Simon knew how much Nordian had grumbled behind the scenes over the past two months.

‘So the rumors were true—he really does care about Lord Christian. Even if it’s just a Thoughtform, he’s come in person to see the duel.’

Marquis Shupen asked in a curious tone.

“Who do you think will win, Lord Patriarch?”

[You mean the duel with your son? Well….]

“No, I meant Langham and Christian.”

[!!]

“If Christian becomes the Grand Heir, it means he’ll eventually have to face Langham.”

Marquis Shupen lowered his gaze.

“Frankly, Christian doesn’t stand a chance, does he? Why are you pushing him into such reckless danger?”

[…….]

“Christian will die.”

Nordian didn’t answer right away.

As if determined, Marquis Shupen continued.

“I believe you should’ve acknowledged Langham as your successor. If you had, he wouldn’t have turned out like this.”

It wasn’t an incorrect statement.

The reason Marquis Langham had become the way he was now was because Nordian had never acknowledged him as his heir.

“Even if Langham hit a wall and never reached 8-star, he still could’ve done well in his own way. I would’ve served him loyally too.”

[True. He might have done reasonably well.]

“You’re the one who ruined Langham.”

Marquis Shupen’s tone turned sharp.

From the start, he had never been one to mince words, even with the Patriarch.

Surprisingly, Nordian didn’t deny it.

[Yes, I know. It was my fault Langham was ruined.]

“Langham would still do well. Even now—”

But—

[Only in times of peace.]

“!!”

[In the terrible future that’s approaching, Langham will never be able to protect the Dark Demonic House.]

Marquis Shupen’s eyes hardened.

[You’ve sensed it too, haven’t you? The bloodstorm approaching the Magus Empire.]

Nordian continued in a grave tone.

[It’s been a long time since His Majesty the Demon Emperor has gone silent. Shupen, do you know why His Majesty remains silent?]

“…I do not know the affairs of the Central Court.”

[Neither do I, exactly. But His Majesty is clearly still alive and well. And yet, he hasn’t said a word and simply watches the chaos spread across the vassal states. Not to mention the Four Royal Cities—things are turning grim in the west as well.]

Nordian let out a low sigh.

[I don’t understand what His Majesty is thinking. But if things go on like this, a great calamity will erupt and the entire Magus Empire will be soaked in blood. Perhaps… it’s what he wants.]

“……”

[Langham will never be able to protect the Dark Demonic House in that calamity.]

Marquis Shupen spoke as if he couldn’t understand.

“Then are you saying Christian can? That greenhorn? Isn’t that too much of a stretch?”

Shupen continued coldly.

“That child will have a hard time even standing against Langham.”

Nordian stayed silent for a moment.

[You may be right. No, you probably are. I know it’s an impossible wish.]

“Then why?”

[Because there’s no hope aside from Christian.]

“!!”

Nordian continued bitterly.

[I am a ‘Wraith.’ One who should’ve long since faded away. I’ve only clung to life disgracefully using a forbidden reversal technique, driven solely by my will for the sake of the Dark Demonic House. But there is nothing I can actually do for the house anymore.]

The term ‘Wraith’ wasn’t just a metaphor.

Nordian was someone who should’ve died long ago.

He had used a forbidden reversal spell that defied death, but in return, he was bound by a heavy restriction.

A restriction that forbade him from involving himself in any family affairs.

If he broke it, the time he had left would decrease rapidly in proportion.

This was a secret only Merian, Simon, and Marquis Shupen knew within the family.

The reason he resisted death even under such restrictions was singular.

The Dark Demonic House needed Nordian to exist.

The only reason their enemies hadn’t made reckless moves against them was because they feared Nordian.

If Nordian died and disappeared, their enemies would immediately extend their claws toward the house.

[That’s why I place my hopes on Christian. Because there’s nothing else I can do but place hope in that boy.]

The Patriarch’s words weighed heavily on Marquis Shupen’s chest.

“…Even so, it’s reckless.”

Nordian let out a quiet laugh and changed the subject.

[Earlier, you asked why I bothered to come all this way just to see a duel, right?]

“…Yes, I did.”

Nordian glanced briefly below the spire.

Christian and Sanin’s duel had just begun.

A match where, in terms of objective ability, they weren’t even close—there was no way Christian could win.

And yet—

[I wanted to make sure.]

“!!”

Nordian’s blood-red eyes pierced the distance and locked onto Christian.

Intensely.

[I wanted to see that boy’s madness again and reassure myself that I didn’t make the wrong choice.]

* * *

Christian’s sudden surprise attack.

Sanin, startled, hastily summoned his battle aura in response.

KWAHHHHNG!!

A massive roar exploded out.

Like a bomb had gone off, fierce winds swept out in every direction.

‘The power of his Black Aura?!’