Chapter 171
“No way—It was just one drink!”
Chris wore an expression of disbelief.
If he had drunk a lot, maybe. But to end up like this after a single glass?
“Just how weak is this body when it comes to alcohol?”
A wave of anxiety surged up within him.
Maybe this body simply couldn’t handle alcohol at all.
“But wait… didn’t they say I used to drink a lot during my delinquent days? Don’t tell me I was always blacking out and making a scene after just a few sips?”
Chris shook his head, trying to dispel the thought.
“I’m still young. Things might change when I become an adult.”
But physically, his body was already seventeen.
Realistically, how much would his alcohol tolerance improve in just one year?
“…There’s no way. Me, unable to drink? This can’t be happening…”
Chris looked crushed.
He loved alcohol.
He had been counting the days until he became of age, dreaming of finally drinking freely. And now, this felt like a bolt from the blue.
Unaware of Chris’s internal despair, those around him made lighthearted remarks.
“You’re hopeless. From now on, if you want to drink, you need this big sister’s permission, baby.”
Jupien shook her head with exaggerated disapproval.
“Kahaha! How about a drink with me next time, young lord? I, Alros, have been dying to share a drink with you!”
Alros was practically bouncing with excitement.
“…Ahem. Well, I must admit—it was a side of you I didn’t expect. Honestly… your drunk face was kind of adorable.”
Melin coughed into her hand and blushed slightly.
“…Shut up, all of you. Just go away.”
He didn’t even have the energy to yell, so he just waved them off weakly.
Mari, catching on, let out a sly laugh.
[Ohoho. Everyone, please leave. The young master and I are about to enjoy some wonderfully sweet alone time together.]
“…Mari, could you leave too?”
[Oh my, how bashful. So adorable. Our young master is just too lovable. I’ll go prepare a special hangover remedy—maiden’s blood juice, brimming with love.]
Too exhausted to argue anymore, Chris slumped flat on the bed.
“This can’t go on. I need to find some kind of secret technique to raise my alcohol tolerance.”
He wasn’t even sure such a thing existed—but Chris was dead serious. He couldn’t bear to live in a world where he couldn’t drink.
“What’s the point of becoming Demon King and enjoying the greatest luxury in the world if I can’t even drink! I will find a way… ugh.”
Just as another wave of nausea hit and he groaned, a flat, unimpressed voice cut through the air.
“…Collapsed after a single drink? You really are just a brat.”
“!!”
It was Marquis Shupen!
No idea when he had arrived—but there he stood, looking down at Chris with pure disappointment in his eyes.
“I hope that from now on, you’ll try to carry yourself in a way that befits the dignity of a Grand Duke heir.”
“…Is this really something that matters that much?” Chris grumbled weakly.
Chris grumbled under his breath as he straightened his posture.
“…What brings you here?”
“I came because there’s something I need to say before I begin my closed-door training.”
Marquis Shupen was currently at the level of 8-star advance, not yet having reached the full state of a complete 8-star.
He was about to enter seclusion to stabilize his achievements and finally break through to true 8-star—a full-fledged All-Mighty Class demon.
Once he completed this seclusion, the Dark Demonic House would have a new supreme-ranking demon in its ranks.
The problem, however, was time.
“I don’t know how long it will take. I’ll move as quickly as I can, but I also need to recover from internal injuries. At best, it'll still take more than half a year.”
Back when Chris entered Patera’s mind, Marquis Shupen had borne the brunt of the pressure radiating from her. As a result, he had sustained deep internal damage.
Since he would be healing in parallel with his training, a significant amount of time was needed.
“I won’t be able to protect you while I’m away. Are you really going to be alright?”
Marquis Shupen, ever the worrier, voiced his concern.
But there was no way around it.
Due to the ‘restrictions’ imposed on Nordion, he couldn’t act as Chris’s direct strength or backer.
So whatever happened during this period, Chris would have to face it alone.
But—
“Protect me? Your Excellency, you’re saying something strange again. I must disagree.”
Chris shook his head.
“You pledged loyalty to me. That means you’re not the one who should protect—I am.”
“!!”
“In the relationship between demon and master, the lesser bows to the greater, and the greater protects the lesser. That’s the structure of loyalty in the demonic path.”
Chris continued with firm conviction.
“It’s not just you. I’ll protect everyone in the Dark Demonic House. Because now, the Dark Demonic House… is mine.”
This wasn’t bravado.
Being appointed the Grand Duke heir meant one thing: he was now the successor to the House.
To put it plainly, Chris had become the next master of the Dark Demonic House.
And Chris, being the greedy type, would never allow anyone to lay a hand on what he considered his.
“Of course, I know I still have a long way to go. But don’t worry. No matter what storms come, I’ll protect the Dark Demonic House.”
In truth…
What Chris was planning went far beyond just defense.
He intended to raise the Dark Demonic House above all other noble houses in the Magus Empire.
“My goal was never just to take control of the Dark Demonic House to begin with.”
His true aim was to reach the very pinnacle of the Magus Empire.
This was only his first step.
“Have faith in me and go without worry. By the time you return, a lot will have changed.”
His voice overflowed not just with confidence—but arrogance.
Marquis Shupen let out a long sigh.
“Saying that while you’re still groaning from a hangover doesn’t exactly inspire much confidence…”
“……”
“But still—I’ll trust you. Because I’ve already decided to.”
Chris scratched his head awkwardly.
“Are you going into closed-door training right away?”
“Yes. I’ve taken care of most things, so it’s time.”
“Before you go, could I ask you to do one last thing? Please let me retain my position as Deputy Commander.”
“!!”
For reference, the rules of the succession trial were as follows:
— Become Deputy Commander and earn the loyalty of the Dark Demon Army.
Normally, one was supposed to first be appointed Deputy Commander before gaining that loyalty. But Christian had done it in reverse—earning their loyalty before receiving the title.
Rules were rules, so Marquis Shupen had followed protocol: first appointing Christian as Deputy Commander, then conducting the formal oath of allegiance.
As a result, Christian currently held the title of Deputy Commander of the Dark Demon Army—even if only in name.
“…Why? You’re returning to the main house soon, aren’t you?”
“That’s true. But there might be a situation where I’ll need the title.”
“…Hmm?”
Marquis Shupen’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
He had sensed it—Christian was planning something using his position.
“…What are you scheming?”
“I can’t tell you the details. But it’s for the sake of the Dark Demonic House.”
Soon, a major incident would erupt between the Dark Demonic House and the Venomous Demonic House.
Christian planned to wield the power of the Dark Demon Army when the time came.
“…Very well. Do as you like. Just remember one thing. Be extremely careful—”
“You don’t even need to say it. I already know. You can stop worrying.”
Christian gave a confident grin.
“When your closed-door training ends, Your Excellency will be looking up to me.”
He meant it.
By the time Marquis Shupen emerged, Christian’s standing would have transformed so drastically, he’d no longer be someone that could be treated lightly.
“It starts with the Grand Duke Heir Investiture Ceremony.”
Christian’s gaze sharpened.
It wasn’t just a celebration.
It was an event where every influential figure in the Magus Empire would watch and evaluate him.
“It’s not exactly a favorable situation.”
Christian knew his reputation in the Magus Empire wasn’t great.
But—
“That’s fine. In fact, this is a chance.”
On that day,
Everyone in the empire would come to realize—
What kind of existence Christian truly was.
Through the Investiture Ceremony, he would make a dazzling proclamation to the entire Magus Empire.
And the entire empire would be thrown into utter shock.
* * *
The Grand Duke Heir Investiture Ceremony of a demonic noble house was a massive event.
In terms of scale and importance, it was comparable to a crown prince’s investiture in a regular kingdom.
And that wasn’t even an exaggeration—each noble demonic house held more power than most small and medium-sized kingdoms in the Allied Nations.
The demons of the Magus Empire weren’t ones to care for pomp and ceremony—but the investiture of a Grand Duke Heir was different.
It was an occasion where invitations were sent across the entire empire, and the host noble house would show off its power through a grand and majestic event.
Christian’s upcoming investiture was no exception. Invitations from the Dark Demonic House had already swept through the Magus Empire.
Among the most important guests invited were, of course, the other eleven Noble Demonic Houses.
Even the Mystic Demonic House and the hostile Castle of the Four Kings received invitations from the Dark Demonic House.
But the responses from most of the other houses were lukewarm at best.
That was because many of them secretly looked down on the Dark Demonic House.
Especially the “Tri-Alliance” houses of the Western Magic Kingdom, far removed from the Dark Demonic House.
“Christian, huh? I’ve heard grand rumors about him lately.”
“He's only a 5-star now, isn't he? What’s there to be impressed about?”
“They say he reached 5-star in just two years? If that’s true, that’s quite something.”
“Sure, if it were true, it’d be impressive. But it's an absurd claim. The fools at the Dark Demonic House should learn to lie more realistically. Even our Ghostsword King couldn’t achieve that level of growth in that time.”
At the elder's remark from the Ghostsword Demonic House, the others from the Beast Demonic House and Illusion Demonic House all nodded in agreement.
These three houses—the Tri-Alliance—were known for their unusually strong internal cooperation, unlike the typical rivalry found among other noble demonic houses.
“So then, who should we send?”
Whom a house sent as a delegate was a clear indicator of how much—or how little—they valued the host.
“Tradition says we should send someone of direct lineage.”
“Ideally, a fellow Grand Duke Heir or a high elder, but… do we really need to go that far? The crazed zealots from the Holy Empire have been making suspicious moves again.”
“And the Mirror Ice Palace and those Round Table lunatics won’t shut up either.”
The decision was quickly made.
“Let’s just send one of our second-string heirs.”
That is, one of the lesser noble sons—those who stood little chance of inheriting power in their own house.
From the perspective of the Dark Demonic House, it was an insult.
But there was little they could do.
Their prestige had fallen so far that this treatment was, unfortunately, appropriate.
If they had still held the might of their golden era, such a decision would’ve never been considered.
But now—they were a house in decline.
A house propped up by Nordian, a dying patriarch.
That was how the world now viewed the Dark Demonic House.
Meanwhile, other noble houses also began preparing their own delegates for the ceremony.
Destruction Demonic House—
“Do not forget. Christian must suffer the worst possible humiliation.”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
Philip smirked as he glanced across the hall toward Kashmir, who stood waiting for him.
He hated Kashmir.
And this was the perfect opportunity to disgrace both him and Christian together.
“That bastard’s going to be dragged through the filth in front of everyone."