Chapter 192
“W-What the…?!”
Count Cessia’s eyes widened so sharply it looked like they might tear apart.
It was a light he knew all too well.
A light unmistakable to anyone from the Venomous Demonic House.
But it was a light that should never appear here.
“Aaah, like I said—I figured it would be tough to handle this using only my power as a warlock.”
Light shimmered once more in Christian’s palm.
“But it’s not like I trained in just warlock techniques.”
A noble, resplendent light of healing.
The sworn nemesis of the Venomous Demonic House—
The power of the famed clan of Divine Healers.
It was Divine Energy Arts.
* * *
This was the reason behind Christian’s unwavering confidence.
‘I was planning this from the start.’
Count Cessia’s Willborne Poison, “Wall of the Penal Carriage,” was a devastating technique—once trapped inside, escape was virtually impossible.
But it wasn’t without its weaknesses.
For one, it was a form of binding barrier—meaning it completely isolated the interior from the outside world.
In other words, no one could see what was happening inside.
Which meant Christian was free to use the power of the Sacred Radiance without interference.
‘And since it’s barrier-type, even the caster can’t easily retract it once deployed.’
Count Cessia instinctively took a step back.
“H-How are you using Divine Energy Arts…?”
His voice trembled with tension.
And understandably so.
For warlocks of the Venomous Demonic House, Divine Energy was their nightmare—an absolute counter.
There was a reason the Divine Healer Clan had long been called the natural enemy of the Venomous Demonic House.
“Oh, I’m a genius, didn’t you know? I just picked it up.”
“Don’t spout nonsense!!”
Count Cessia summoned his power in full.
“Even if that’s really Divine Energy Arts, it still shouldn’t be able to stand against my Willborne Poison at full strength! I’ll grind you into pulp!!”
Fwoooosh!!
Poison surged from all sides of the barrier, sweeping toward Christian.
Like a man being swallowed by a violent storm, Christian’s entire body was engulfed by the miasma.
But then—once again, a radiant light flashed.
Crackle—
The poison dried up and crumbled away like dust.
Count Cessia’s face froze in disbelief.
“H-How…? Even if it is Divine Energy, how can it block Willborne Poison this easily?”
Divine Energy wasn’t inherently invincible to poison.
To defend against Willborne Poison, the Divine Energy had to be imbued with an equal or greater will than the caster’s.
“It’s simple,” Christian said. “The Will to Save Life in my Divine Energy is stronger than your will behind the poison. After all, Willborne Poison and Divine Energy are both born from extreme manifestations of will. So when faced with a stronger will—it breaks. That’s all.”
“Don’t give me that crap! There’s no way you could possibly possess such a ‘Will to Save Life’!”
The power of Divine Energy Arts varied greatly depending on the will to save life held by the practitioner.
However, such a will—known as the Will to Save Life—could only grow strong through genuine experiences of healing and protecting others.
That was why disciples of the Divine Healer Clan often undertook pilgrimages to treat the sick—to strengthen that will.
‘And if we’re talking healing experience, I’ve got more than enough to drown in. They even used to call me “the Saint of the Mire.”’
Even at the main house of the Divine Healer Clan, few could claim to have saved as many lives in a single lifetime as Christian had in his previous one.
Back then, he had healed more people than most could imagine.
That’s why the Will to Save Life in Christian was powerful enough to easily overwhelm ordinary Willborne techniques.
“Th-this is insane!! Die!!”
Count Cessia hurled poison wildly in all directions—but it was pointless.
Unless it was Willborne Poison at the level of a 6-star Upper Rank approaching “mutation” it couldn’t pierce Christian’s Divine Energy Arts.
The moment he realized none of his poison was effective, Count Cessia’s face went pale.
He changed tactics.
‘Fine. If I can’t harm him with poison alone, then I’ll just undo the Willborne Poison and expose what he’s done to everyone.’
Count Cessia began the process of unraveling the barrier.
Because it was a barrier-type Willborne Poison, it couldn’t be undone instantly—it required time and focus to dismantle.
“You trying to run away?”
“Shut your mouth. The heir of the Dark Demonic House using the filthy techniques of the Allied Scum… I wonder how people will react when they hear about this.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’d be a scandal,” Christian replied casually. “But it won’t matter. After all, if I kill you here, there won’t be anyone left to spread it.”
Count Cessia snorted.
“Divine Energy Arts are for defense and healing. With that alone, you can’t possibly kill—”
“Who said I only use Divine Energy Arts?”
Shing—
Christian pulled a sword from his subspace pouch—and Count Cessia’s eyes widened in shock again.
A brilliant blade shimmered in his hand.
Ernhilt.
It was the sacred sword Olivia had gifted him before they parted ways at the Gold Cross.
“H-how do you have a sacred sword?!”
“I can wield Divine Energy—so why not a sacred sword too?”
Christian raised the blade.
Fwaaaaaa!!
A dazzling radiance flooded the weapon.
It was the highest tier of sacred mana among all Divine Radiance energies—
The Radiant Mana—a force said to be reserved for heroes alone.
And now it was blazing from Christian’s sword.
“Y-you…!!”
Count Cessia, sensing true danger, released his full strength in desperation—but it was already too late.
As a warlock, Christian was a 5-star Lower Rank.
Based on the power he displayed, it might seem unbelievable, but his warlock cultivation had not yet advanced beyond that level.
However, as a wielder of Sacred Radiance—
His rank was completely different.
5-star Upper Rank.
When he gained his Absolute Steel Aura, his Radiant Path cultivation had also soared alongside it.
In truth, it had surpassed even that.
‘Willborne... I think I can use it now.’
Christian narrowed his eyes.
As a warlock, it was still too soon.
Willborne Techniques—the power to manifest one’s innermost thoughts into reality, using pure will to challenge the very limits of the laws of the world.
Christian had yet to fully form his inner ideology as a warlock. But as a Radiant, it was a different story.
‘Back during the Age of Ruin… I witnessed countless Willborne Techniques.’
Chrrrrk—
Memories of the many Radiant Knights of the Alliance wielding their Willborne Energy swept through his mind.
And among them, one stood out most vividly.
The technique used by Hero Evan:
The Sword of Death’s Shadow.
A blade that delivered absolute death to beings of darkness.
His mind instinctively recalled Evan’s thoughts as if they were his own—but Christian shook his head.
‘That alone isn’t enough.’
His own ideology advanced one step further.
More violent. More unforgiving.
Not the ideology of a hero—but one that felt more like a warlock’s. Savage, overwhelming.
And yet, that still wasn’t the end of it.
Mere destruction could not be called the power of light.
So Christian’s ideology took on the will of judgment.
A will imbued with the authority to condemn.
The will of light that sought to annihilate all darkness—the embodiment of divine punishment.
Christian’s first Willborne Technique—
The Sword of Annihilating Light.
He had ascended to the level of a 6-star Advanced Rank as a Radiant.
Fwaaash.
A single beam of light tore through the air.
Perhaps because it carried the will of annihilation—
it wasn’t pure white, but shadowed.
As though wrapped in dusk.
Yet within that darkness was a brilliant, solemn radiance. A spiritual sanctity that couldn’t be seen by the eye.
Darker than shadow—
but more dazzling than the most glorious light, the blade split the air like the sword of a divine judge.
“Ggh… K-KRAAAHHHH!!!”
PAAAAAANG!!
The blade of shadowed light sliced through Count Cessia’s body—
and from the severed line, divine radiance exploded.
The light surged forth like holy fire, consuming Cessia’s body as though executing a sinner atop a pyre.
And amidst a final, blood-curdling scream—
Count Cessia met his end.
Victory.
‘That was far more powerful than I expected.’
Christian’s face showed a hint of surprise.
Due to his specialization, Count Cessia’s wide-area poison was naturally weak against single-point focused Willborne Techniques like this—but still, taking down a 6-star Mid-Rank warlock in a single blow was no small feat.
‘Its power is overwhelming, but the energy cost is heavy. I won’t be able to use it easily… but it’ll be my trump card.’
As for traces of Radiant power being discovered—there was no need to worry.
The Wall of the Penal Carriage collapsed, and the lingering poison melted down Count Cessia’s remains completely.
“Grand Duke! Are you alright?!”
Sanin rushed toward Christian.
“Count Cessia?”
“Handled.”
“!!”
Sanin's eyes widened as if they'd tear open.
“How?”
“Ah, well, I am a genius.”
“……”
“Anyway, Sanin, what about Count Kalia? The one you were fighting?”
“I defeated him.”
In the distance, Count Kalia’s body could be seen collapsed, his head severed.
Sanin had won—unexpectedly.
“Not bad.”
“…Hearing that from you, Your Grace, doesn’t feel great. I really wanted to achieve greater merit than you for once.”
“I told you, didn’t I? You’ll never surpass me in this lifetime.”
“…I’ll never give up.”
Christian chuckled, clearly in a good mood.
“Then how about another wager?”
“What kind?”
“Let’s see who reaches the top of the fortress first.”
Yes.
The battle wasn’t over yet.
They still had to conquer the fortress.
Just then, a roar of victory thundered from below.
“Woooooooah! Glory to the Dark Demonic House!!”
“All hail Grand Duke Christian!!”
Melin, who had followed Christian’s orders and flanked the enemy, had broken through the fortress wall and opened the gates. Along the way, some toxic defense weapons had been set up, but Marisa had neutralized them with ease.
Christian mounted his horse and shouted boldly,
“Take the fortress! Plant the banner of darkness atop the keep!”
And just like that, Christian defeated the 6-star Mid-Rank Count Cessia and immediately proceeded to take the entire fortress.
Just as he had declared from the beginning, he seized control of four territories.
A truly earth-shattering feat.
When dawn broke and the full report spread, the entire Venomous Demonic House would be thrown into chaos.
And not just them.
Even the Dark Demonic House had been unaware of Christian’s secret maneuver.
No—this was no longer just a matter between two Demonic Houses.
This was an incident that would send shockwaves through the entire Magus Empire.
But just as the conquest of Cessia Fortress was coming to a close, someone was watching from a distance.
And it wasn’t Sherad.
It was a woman with ashen hair and a dangerously enchanting aura.
Märchen, the Elder of the Four Kings' Castle and the Puppeteer.
So it wasn’t just Sherad—Märchen had also been observing Christian all along.
To be precise, the one who had just appeared wasn’t Märchen herself.
It was her first puppet—crafted from her own twin sister.
Because the puppet had been made from a twin sharing her blood, its power far exceeded that of any other puppet she had created.
It could synchronize perfectly with the main body, and despite being a mere puppet, it was capable of exerting power equivalent to a 7-star.
This was Märchen’s Number One—her first puppet. One she almost never deployed unless absolutely necessary.
And her reason for sending it was simple—the same as Sherad’s.
She, too, was targeting Christian.
“Fufu… He truly exceeds expectations. How can someone be this captivating, this beautiful?”
To think he’d actually defeat a 6-star Mid-Rank demon. She had wondered if it were possible, but now she had seen it with her own eyes.
Märchen licked her lips with a trembling thrill.
“I can’t hold back any longer. I must kidnap him immediately and turn him into my puppet. And what perfect timing this is.”
The current chaos from the fortress being conquered gave her the opening she needed.
If she acted swiftly, she could abduct him without anyone noticing.
“Ah… just imagining that gorgeous young man as my personal puppet… what rapture. I’m even looking forward to the expression he’ll make from the pain of being turned.”
She was practically quivering with delight when—
A cold voice cut through the air.
“My, my. And here I thought disgusting corpse fetishists like you knew their place. Or in your case, should I say a taxidermy pervert—since you prefer to preserve corpses as dolls?”
“!!”
Märchen’s face stiffened.
She turned toward the voice—and saw a silver-haired man, as beautiful as any woman, his gaze piercingly cold.
“You are…? Sherad, First Prince of the Dark Demonic House? The Madman?”
“That’s right.”
“Why are you here?”
Sherad brushed his hair back with one hand, revealing the scar Christian had left on his face—twisting ominously along his smile.
“Ah… Christian’s life belongs to me. I have no intention of handing him over to a doll-freak like you.”