Chapter 175
Idrinne asked for confirmation.
“So in the end, all I have to do is pick a fight with Prince Philip?”
“Yeah, just come up with some excuse—anything will do. If you wait, that guy will definitely try something shady. When he does, seize the moment and stir up trouble…”
And sure enough, it happened then.
A loud sound rang out.
Smack!
It was unmistakably the sound of someone getting slapped.
“!!”
Christian turned his head and frowned.
He saw Philip of the Destruction Demonic House—the one he had been waiting for.
The problem was the person standing before him with his head bowed: Kashmir.
As if Kashmir had done something wrong, Philip raised his hand and slapped him again.
Smack!
Kashmir said nothing. He just kept taking the blows, until finally, he crashed into a table and was flung backward as it toppled over.
Murmurs spread among the crowd.
“What was that? What’s going on?”
“Did the attendant do something to offend the prince of the Destruction Demonic House?”
No one even considered that Kashmir might be a prince of the Destruction Demonic House himself.
The way he dressed was far too shabby for someone from a noble house, and Philip was treating him like a mere servant.
‘So that’s how it is.’
Christian’s eyes narrowed coldly.
Kashmir was a prince from a collateral line—one constantly oppressed and looked down upon.
Because his mother came from a lowly background, his circumstances were entirely different from Christian’s, who, despite also being from a branch family, was acknowledged due to his maternal bloodline.
But still, a prince was a prince.
That kind of treatment was far too cruel—especially in front of everyone.
Christian quickly deduced Philip’s dark intentions.
‘This is a provocation. A warning aimed at me.’
Philip knew about his friendship with Kashmir and was trying to provoke him.
‘How dare he.’
Christian’s eyes turned icy.
He had already anticipated Philip would try something.
But this was lower than he expected—disgustingly petty.
Philip's actions escalated even further.
He placed his foot on the fallen Kashmir and coldly said,
“Get up. After making such a mistake in front of me, you’re not seriously expecting mercy, are you? I’ll give you a proper lesson right here.”
People began glancing nervously at Christian.
No matter how one looked at it, causing such a scene in the middle of a banquet was an act of blatant disrespect toward the host—the Dark Demonic House.
Especially towards the main figure of the banquet: Christian.
It was a situation where Christian would be expected to step in and put a stop to it.
And that’s exactly what Philip was aiming for.
Christian planned to step in so Philip would seize the chance to provoke a duel and trample him publicly.
‘I'll crush them both—Christian and Kashmir. Watching those two grovel in the dirt together would be quite the spectacle.’
Philip sneered with a twisted grin.
Just as he moved to strike Kashmir again, trying to bait Christian further—
—he was interrupted.
But it wasn’t Christian.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
It was Idrinne!
Fwoosh!
A swirl of blood-red mist surged forward and blocked the kick aimed at Kashmir.
Philip flinched, startled. Idrinne stepped forward, her cold eyes fixed on him as she reprimanded him sharply.
“Such disgraceful behavior… And you call yourself the prince of a prestigious Magus family? This is utterly contemptible.”
Her voice was filled with genuine disgust.
This wasn’t an act.
Idrinne loathed those who abused the weak.
“Blood Sword Demonic House, is it? Who are you? I don’t recognize your face.”
“A worm like you doesn’t deserve to know my name. Now move your filthy foot—at once.”
Philip let out a dry, disbelieving chuckle.
That reaction said it all—he couldn’t believe the audacity.
‘Where does this no-name vampire even come from?’
Judging by her unfamiliar face, Philip assumed she couldn’t be an important figure from the Blood Sword Demonic House.
He tried to ignore her and raise his foot again—but then froze.
“I said, stop.”
“!!”
Philip swallowed hard.
A chill ran down his spine.
‘What… is this?’
It wasn’t that Idrinne had released any aura or unleashed her power.
But the way she stared at him—calmly, coldly—made it impossible for him to move.
There was a reason for that.
Idrinne’s strength was on a completely different level.
As the Archduchess of the Blood Sword Demonic House, she had already stepped into the realm of 7-star power.
If she used the strength granted by her contract with a devil, there were few in this banquet hall who could even dream of matching her.
“Stop this. And apologize to Prince Christian, the host of this banquet, for your disgraceful behavior.”
Philip stood frozen, unable to respond.
At that moment, Christian finally stepped forward.
“That’s enough. Let him be. If he knew a thing about courtesy, he wouldn’t have acted like this in the first place.”
“!!”
Philip’s face turned red with shame and anger.
‘Arrogant bastard… I won’t let this slide.’
But Philip had no idea—
What Christian was really thinking at that moment.
Nor did he realize—
The ordeal that was about to come crashing down on him.
Christian turned and walked toward Kashmir.
"It's been a while."
"!!"
Kashmir's chest tightened suddenly with emotion.
He had been longing for the day he would meet Christian again.
But to be seen in such a miserable state now—
He felt nothing but shame.
"Are you alright?"
"...I'm fine."
Kashmir lowered his head.
Truthfully, this kind of humiliation was nothing new to him. He had grown used to it.
But then—
"No, you're not fine. You're my friend."
"!!"
"I'm not the type to stand by while a friend is treated like this."
Kashmir’s eyes trembled.
Something heavy pressed against his chest.
"...My lord..."
In truth—
Christian understood Kashmir’s position all too well.
Philip wasn’t the only one who tormented him in the Destruction Demonic House. The entire house was complicit.
But what could Kashmir do, alone and powerless, other than endure and shrink back?
‘But it shouldn’t be that way.’
Kashmir had to change as well.
“I’ll ask again. Are you really okay with this? Or are you just going to let it slide?”
“……”
Kashmir clenched his fists tightly.
‘I’m not okay.’
He had endured only because he had no choice.
Because he was weak.
But now, seeing Christian’s unwavering gaze—
A flood of shame rushed in.
Christian’s path had been no easier. He too had been crushed by circumstances.
But he didn’t shrink back—he faced them head-on and rose to become the Grand Duke.
So why had Kashmir done nothing but make excuses and endure?
Christian whispered quietly.
“If you want to get back at that bastard, I’ll help you—as your friend.”
Kashmir gritted his teeth and stood up.
Then turned to glare at Philip.
“For everything you’ve done to me—apologize.”
“…What? You’ve lost your mind.”
“I haven’t. I’m a Magus too. If you won’t apologize, I’ll make you pay the price.”
Philip stared in disbelief.
And then, his face twisted in fury.
‘You worthless bastard…’
Philip ground his teeth.
‘This actually works out. I’ll take this chance to utterly destroy that bastard Kashmir.’
Once he crushed Kashmir, Christian would be forced to step in.
That’s when he planned to trample Christian as well.
‘I was planning to deal with Kashmir eventually anyway.’
Philip despised Kashmir.
And the reason was simple.
People were calling Kashmir a genius—one comparable to him.
But Kashmir was from a collateral bloodline. Worse, born of low birth.
The only reason Kashmir had even been allowed to become a prince was his talent.
He began training in dark mana only after being formally recognized as a Magus of the family at fifteen.
And yet in under ten years, he was already on the cusp of reaching 5-star.
A pace nearly equal to Philip’s.
Considering all the resources and advantages Philip received as a direct descendant, some even claimed Kashmir’s talent might actually be superior.
There were even whispers that perhaps Kashmir was the true top prodigy of the next generation of the Destruction Demonic House.
‘How dare a lowborn like him…’
Philip clenched his teeth hard, and the informal duel began.
Duels during banquets were common enough among Magi that an arena had already been set up in one section of the hall.
Still, the crowd responded with little enthusiasm.
“A dispute between members of the Destruction Demonic House?”
“The result’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Philip was a 5-star.
Kashmir was only 4-star.
Especially in duels between Dark Mages, the difference in star rank was nearly impossible to overcome.
But then—something unexpected happened.
“Hold on a moment,” someone said. “If we proceed like this, the outcome will be far too predictable. So how about this?”
“…??”
“I’ll join this duel as well.”
Christian had declared his intent to take part!
Philip’s eyebrows twitched.
“You intend to gang up on me with him?”
“Of course not,” Christian replied calmly. “I only plan to assist Prince Kashmir slightly while he casts his magic.”
“Assist?”
“Yes. If you manage to withstand an attack that Kashmir unleashes with my support, then the duel shall be yours to claim. And in return for your victory, I’ll grant you one request—whatever you desire.”
Philip furrowed his brow.
‘What’s he scheming now?’
In magic, one plus one does not equal two.
Trying to forcefully support another’s spell usually results in the formula becoming unstable and the entire spell falling apart.
Besides, the Dark Demonic House wasn’t even a house of Dark Mages.
At most, Christian may have dabbled in black magic in imitation.
No matter what tricks he tried, there was no way he could pose a threat to someone like Philip, hailed as a prodigy even among the most elite black magic lineages.
“It seems you’re hesitating. If you’re not confident, there’s no need to go through with it.”
A remark clearly meant to sting Philip’s pride.
“…I’ll do it.”
Philip growled low.
“But—if I win, I want both Kashmir and you, Prince Christian, to kneel before me.”
The crowd stirred in shock.
For someone to demand that of Christian, who was soon to be officially instated as Grand Duke?
But Christian simply chuckled softly and replied in turn.
“Very well. But if you lose, it’ll be the same. You’ll kneel and apologize for the disgrace you’ve shown here today.”
And with that—the duel began.
“Prince Kashmir, unleash the most powerful destruction magic you can muster. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“……”
Kashmir looked bewildered.
He had no idea what Christian was planning.
‘I’ll trust him. There’s no way Prince Christian would say this without a plan.’
The strongest destruction spell Kashmir could use was Rusting Horn.
A black magic spell of destruction that cloaked its target in a spiral of icy blades, corroding all it touched.
It was powerful, yes—but in Philip’s 5-star eyes, it was laughable.
‘I’ll leave him crippled.’
Philip, too, called forth destruction black magic.
A True Steel Flame spell, laced with his iron will.
A terrifying fire burst forth.
This was no ordinary flame that merely burned its target.
It bore the nature of destruction itself—flames that incinerated all they touched and reduced everything to fine ash in the blink of an eye.
‘There’s nothing to see here.’
‘No 4-star magic could stand against a 5-star True Steel spell.’
People shook their heads.
A fundamental truth of magic:
A lower-tier spell cannot overcome a higher-tier one.
Especially when they’re of the same elemental nature.
This was why mage duels almost never defied the limits of rank.
But then—something unexpected happened.
Christian, who had been standing silently behind Kashmir, stretched out his hand.
Ssshhk.
A wisp of dark mana flowed forward, merging with Kashmir’s Rusting Horn.
‘What’s he trying to do?’
‘He’s not seriously attempting to infuse destruction magic with dark mana, is he?’
The spectators’ eyes widened.
‘To try fusing dark mana into a spell that’s already been cast?’
Magic was built on intricate and delicate formulas.
Behind every visible phenomenon was a towering structure of interwoven spellwork.
To try forcing dark mana into an already-cast spell like that—
It shouldn’t be possible.
But Christian moved on to his next action.