Chapter 179
But the princess of the Illusion Demonic House responded sharply.
“Don’t talk like you know anything!! This isn’t just a matter of distinguishing between illusion and reality!!”
“!!”
“Th-this… it feels like it actually exists…? But how could that be at the 4-star level…?”
She was a 5-star illusionist.
A level where illusions could affect reality—but even at that level, she could never manifest something like this.
“Ah, well… it’s because I’m a genius,” Christian said casually. “Breaking the boundary between reality and illusion so that they seem to exist as one—isn’t that something I can obviously do?”
“!!”
“Anyway, that’s not what’s important, is it? You’re just going to stand there and take it?”
The princess of the Illusion Demonic House grit her teeth hard.
‘Even if the level of that illusion is high, it’s still just a 4-star. There’s no way it can withstand a 5-star Jingang illusion…!’
Fwaaaash!
Light burst forth.
The Jingang-class 5-star illusion—Sinking in Ecstasy.
A horrifying spell that lured the target into a perverse euphoria, then shattered their mind.
The light of corrupted delight began to push back the darkness that Christian had summoned.
However—
Christian simply shook his head.
“Weak.”
Yes, it was weak.
Just like how the strength of dark aura varies depending on the one wielding it, so too does the power of a Jingang-class illusion depend on the caster.
And this illusion… was merely imbued with a half-baked will.
Weaker than even what Philip had shown.
Though Christian had yet to reach the 5-star level in illusion magic, something like this Jingang illusion—he could tear it apart with ease.
“What exactly did you learn at the Illusion Demonic House? Watch closely. This—is what a real illusion looks like.”
The darkness changed.
Brrrrr.
A shudder, like the earth itself was trembling, and then—a nightmare unfolded.
From beyond the darkness, a chilling gaze descended upon the princess of the Illusion Demonic House.
“!!”
Her eyes widened to the point they looked like they would tear.
Her whole body trembled under the weight of a primal fear.
And it was no wonder.
The illusion Christian had just manifested… was none other than the eyes of Mistrot, the demon of the Fourth Realm she had witnessed not long ago.
A being so unfathomably terrifying that even Christian had once trembled in its presence.
Of course, not even Christian could truly replicate an illusion of such a transcendent entity.
‘But I can certainly recreate the fear I felt in that moment.’
To that, Christian layered in the True Intent of the Curse Demonic House, which he had recently mastered—the ability to target and pierce through even the faintest gaps.
That cursed essence was now embedded into his illusion.
And it found its mark—ruthlessly plunging fear through the cracks in the princess’s mind.
She desperately tried to escape the terror, but it was hopeless.
In fact, had this not been a battle fought through illusions, she might have had a better chance.
She could’ve at least raised a mental barrier to reduce the damage.
But here—within a domain ruled by illusions—she was utterly defenseless.
As mentioned earlier, during an illusion duel, both participants’ minds are completely exposed.
In a single instant, a fear as vast as eternity consumed her consciousness.
“Aaaaaaaaahhh!! S-Stop…!! Kuuuaaaaaargh!!!!”
The princess of the Illusion Demonic House collapsed, shrieking in horror.
She had completely lost her mind.
‘It’s as if she was exposed to the terror of a demon… She won’t recover her sanity anytime soon.’
Those watching the duel began to grasp what had just happened—and swallowed hard.
‘He defeated the Illusion Demonic House’s princess… using illusion magic?’
‘What the hell? Is he insane?’
Of course, Christian’s madness didn’t stop there.
“What are you two doing? Still not thinking straight?”
“!!”
Snapped out of it by Christian’s scolding, the heirs of the Ghost Sword and Beast Demonic Houses widened their eyes.
At some point, the illusion of darkness that had surrounded them had completely vanished.
Christian had, in his own twisted way, shown them some “consideration.”
“You bastard…!!”
The Ghost Sword heir slashed his blade.
Fwoosh!
A lightning-quick strike like a thunderclap.
But that wasn’t all.
From the side, a Shavel Wolf lunged to rip into Christian’s limbs.
Controlled through Beast Enchantment Arts, the monster showed no fear, launching a wild and relentless assault.
Not only that—these beasts had been enhanced far beyond what a normal 4-star monster should be, both in speed and resilience.
“Watch out…!!”
Even the mages from the Dark Demonic House gasped in alarm.
It looked like Christian would be torn to shreds at any second.
But once again—something unthinkable happened.
No matter how wildly the Ghost Sword heir slashed…
No matter how fiercely the Shavel Wolves pounced…
None of them could touch Christian.
Every attack missed him—by a hair’s breadth.
No—not by chance. Each dodge was deliberate, calculated to precision.
“Aren’t your monsters’ movements a little too obvious? Hey mutt—are you this stupid, or are your Beast Arts just that basic?”
Predicting the erratic swordplay of the Ghost Sword Demonic House was difficult, even for Christian.
But monsters were a different story.
By nature, magical beasts had predictable movement patterns—and under the control of Beast Enchantment, even more so.
By reading the flow of magic controlling the beasts and their pre-attack body motions, Christian could fully anticipate their next move.
Sure, it should’ve been impossible for any human to track and predict eight monsters while simultaneously avoiding attacks from a master swordsman—
Unless that human was Christian.
And he wasn’t finished showing off his insanity.
“You… That sword technique—?!”
The Ghost Sword heir’s eyes went wide.
The movements of Christian’s blade were familiar.
“How do you know our Ghost Sword Demonic House’s Soul-Shearing Sword Art?!”
That’s right.
The sword technique Christian was using wasn’t from the Dark Demonic House—it was from the Ghost Sword Demonic House!
“You showed it to me yesterday.”
“What…?”
“One of your Ghost Sword mages was showing off with it during the duels at yesterday’s gathering.”
The banquet the day before had brought together countless mages—and with so many gathered, fights had naturally broken out. Among them, one particularly stood out: a member of the Ghost Sword Demonic House who had won five consecutive duels.
The sword art he used in those duels… was exactly the same as the Soul-Shearing Sword Art Christian was now displaying.
“It looked fun, so I copied it out of boredom. Not that hard, really.”
“What kind of ridiculous nonsense is that?!”
The Soul-Shearing Sword Art wasn’t a secret technique reserved for the main bloodline—it was taught to affiliated mages of the house.
Still, that didn’t mean it was shallow or simple.
Some within the Ghost Sword Demonic House even dedicated their entire lives solely to mastering that one technique.
And this guy… was claiming he had copied and learned it in a single day?
“Don’t lie! There’s no way that’s possible!”
“I’m not lying. Something this basic doesn’t take more than a day to learn. Oh—did it take you longer, maybe?”
Claang!
Christian’s sword slashed through the air with a sharp, clean arc.
A strike that perfectly embodied the essence of the Soul-Shearing Sword Art.
Just like its nickname suggested—a blade that tears the soul from the body—its motion was eerily precise and mesmerizing.
The heir of the Ghost Sword Demonic House turned pale as he scrambled to evade.
‘No—I won’t lose!’
Fwoooosh!
Dark aura surged from his blade.
A chilling indigo energy—signature to the Ghost Sword Demonic House’s Dark Aura.
‘Fine. I’ll show you what real swordsmanship from the Ghost Sword Demonic House looks like!’
He unleashed a dazzling flurry of strikes.
It was the Flower Ghost Sword Art, a secret sword technique passed down only through the main bloodline—beautiful yet deadly, designed to steal a life in a single graceful flourish.
In theory, it should have held a natural advantage over the Soul-Shearing Sword Art Christian was mimicking.
“What are you going to do with that fancy dance of yours?”
Slash!
A clean cut opened across his shoulder, blood spraying out.
“You seem to be under a serious delusion.”
Christian’s blade roared forward.
“It’s not what sword art you’re using that matters—it’s who is using it.”
As he fought, Christian recalled a certain person.
Evan.
Someone who, despite also being at the lower 5-star level, had wielded swordsmanship that made the guy before him look like a joke.
Back at the Gold Cross, Christian had seen Evan’s sword firsthand—and it was nothing like this.
‘If my opponent right now were Evan, I wouldn’t be able to push this far ahead.’
The guy in front of him was different.
The gap in skill was overwhelming.
Slaash!
“Gahhh!”
Each time Christian’s blade flashed, blood burst into the air.
The mages watching the scene swallowed hard.
“No way… He’s toying with a member of the Ghost Sword Demonic House like that?”
“And without using any magic—only with swordsmanship?”
Christian had dismissed his opponent as lacking skill—but that wasn’t quite right.
The heir of the Ghost Sword Demonic House possessed more than enough strength to be considered a proper lower-tier 5-star.
The truly terrifying part was that Christian wasn’t even in a one-on-one duel.
He was forcing the Ghost Sword heir to his knees while simultaneously evading remote magical attacks from eight Shabel Wolves and the heir of the Beast Demonic House.
It was madness, pure and simple.
“…He’s really just a lower 5-star?”
The same question echoed through everyone’s minds.
Was Christian truly just at the lower end of the 5-star level?
And yet, no matter how closely they observed, they couldn’t sense anything beyond that level of aura from him.
Which only led them to another terrifying thought—and another nervous gulp.
“…If he’s this strong already at 5-star lower-tier, then what happens when he climbs further?”
Even within the same tier, actual power varies wildly from one mage to another.
And the higher one climbs, the more extreme those differences become.
If Christian—who already displayed this monstrous strength—were to reach 6-star… no, even 7-star or 8-star?
“…He could become an even more dreadful monster than the infamous Duke of Nordian.”
While everyone sat frozen, overcome by the ominous thought, the duel reached its peak.
The heir of the Ghost Sword Demonic House finally fell—defeated by the Soul-Shearing Sword Art.
All that remained now was the heir of the Beast Demonic House.
“Only the mutt left now, huh? Wanna bark again? You were kinda cute yesterday.”
“You bastard…!!! I’ll kill you!!”
Humiliated by yesterday’s disgrace and mocked again today, the Beast House heir completely lost control.
His bloodshot eyes gleamed as he flew into a frenzy, unleashing a storm of attacks.
It was Berserk Mode—a last-resort transformation of the beastkin race.
But once again, Christian’s reaction was… strange.
He didn’t fight back directly. Instead, he just kept lightly dodging, glancing around.
“…What kind of madness is he planning this time?”
The spectators, having now grown used to Christian’s bizarre patterns, all wore the same horrified expression.
He was definitely aiming for something again.
And they were right.
Something truly absurd happened.
Grrrrowwwl!
Out of nowhere, one of the Shabel Wolves lunged and sank its fangs into the Beast Heir’s thigh.
“?!!”
And it wasn’t just one.
All eight of the Shabel Wolves suddenly went berserk—as if possessed—and bared their fangs at their own master!
“What the—?!”
“He stole control of the beasts!!”
That’s right.
What Chris had done was use Summoning Control Arts to seize the Beast Heir’s Shabel Wolves and turn them into his own!
Yet another absurd feat.
By now, no one even had the energy left to be shocked.
‘My dark magic’s dominance outclasses the Beast Demonic House’s yellow mana. That’s what made this possible. Especially since in Berserk mode, their control weakens—and frankly, his summoning technique isn’t nearly as refined as that of a proper beast tamer.’
And just like that, the duel came to a surreal close—with the heir of the Beast Demonic House getting mauled by the very beasts he had summoned, collapsing to his knees.
“……”
“……”
A deathly silence descended over the arena.
It would've been enough of a spectacle if Chris had simply won.
But he had defeated all three opponents using their own specialties against them.
Everyone stared at Christian with dazed, half-terrified expressions.
And then—clap clap—the sound of applause echoed through the hall.
It was from Duke Sanct, the Demon Emperor's official representative.
“Splendid. Truly splendid. It’s been a while since I’ve witnessed such remarkable talent. I must say—I’m pleased. Who knows? At this rate, our Magus Empire may one day see the birth of a new Demon King. Though… that’s a tale for the distant future.”
Everyone was stunned at the Duke’s praise.
He had just suggested that Christian could one day become the Demon King.
Even with all the overwhelming strength Christian had shown today, that was still an almost unbelievable notion.
The Demon King.
To ascend to the transcendental realm of 9 stars was something no genius in history could ever guarantee.
But the words had come from no one less than the Demon Emperor's own envoy from the Capital—so no one could simply dismiss it.
And yet, Chris followed up with something even more outrageous.
“Well… It might not be that distant a future.”
“Hoh?”
“I’m rather impatient, you see. If I’m going to become Demon King, I’d prefer to get it over with quickly.”
“What? Hahaha! You brat—you’re bold! I like that!”
Duke Sanct burst into hearty laughter before sweeping his gaze across the audience.
“Then—does anyone here still oppose Christian von Barren inheriting the Will of Darkness?”
Of course, no one raised their hand.
“Then let us conclude this ceremony. Christian von Barren, I hereby command you to inherit the Will of Darkness. Speak now, so all may hear your resolve.”
It was the final stage.
The inauguration speech.
And—the climax of the chaos Chris had meticulously orchestrated.
Yes.
All the incredible displays of power Chris had shown up until now… were for the sake of what he was about to say in this very speech.