Chapter 212

“Where the hell did that bastard Marquis Langham disappear to?”

Christian scowled deeply.

Whether he liked it or not, this was a situation where everyone had to unite. And yet, Langham had vanished—

As if he had known this would happen from the start.

“…No way. Don’t tell me…?”

A chilling possibility flashed through Christian’s mind, sending shivers down his spine.

“Did he somehow foresee all this?”

It might’ve been an overreach—just a baseless suspicion.

But not impossible.

“Marquis Langham… he probably knew Yulian’s true nature.”

After everything Christian had witnessed, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Langham was always excessively thorough, meticulous to a fault.

Could such a man really have gone five whole years without realizing his daughter’s soul had changed?

Not likely.

He must have known—

That Yulian had delved into forbidden arts.

And yet… he had let it happen.

“But why?”

Christian didn’t have to think too long to understand.

Because at that moment, he heard a familiar voice shout:

“Christian! Get to cover—now!!”

“!!”

“I’ll handle those bastards.”

It was Nordian.

With unwavering determination etched across his face, the family head of the Dark Demonic House stared down the advancing demonkin.

Christian clenched his fists.

“So that’s it. He used Yulian’s plot to deliberately force Lord Nordian into a trap.”

There was no way Nordian could sit back in a crisis like this.

If he didn’t act, the Dark Demonic House would drown in blood.

“So this is how it happened in my past life too.”

Christian recalled the events of his former life.

“Back then… Lord Nordian exhausted himself fighting off the demonkin and was ultimately killed by Marquis Langham, who had gained power through a forbidden technique.”

So Langham must have foreseen Yulian’s scheme and used it instead as bait to weaken Nordian.

Yulian had become a pawn of her own enemy.

“Vile bastard.”

Christian’s eyes narrowed in disgust.

“What are you doing?! You are the hope of the Dark Demonic House! Hurry and get out of here!!”

“I will not run.”

“What?!”

“I am the Grand Heir. And you want me to hide behind others in a time like this?”

“I admire your courage as a dark mage—but this isn’t the time for pride! I’ll deal with those disgusting demonkin myself!”

Nordian’s presence flared—cold, unyielding, resolute.

He was fully prepared to fight to the death.

But Christian shook his head.

“No, I won’t leave this to you, Grandfather.”

"What? There's no one but me who can fight those demonkin—?"

"And why wouldn't there be? Are the dark mages here just scarecrows?"

"!!"

"Not you, Grandfather. It’s our Dark Demonic House that will fight."

Christian swept his gaze across the gathered dark mages in the hall.

"What are you waiting for?! Are you just going to stand there while these vile monsters invade the heart of our House?!"

"!!"

"Everyone, take up arms!"

With his thunderous voice echoing through the chamber, the dark mages snapped out of their daze.

"Uwooooah!!"

"Long live the Dark Demonic House!!!"

"Drive those demon bastards back!!"

Christian’s bold stance ignited their courage—breaking the suffocating morale-crushing presence of Gehenna’s foul energy.

Yet Nordian still wore a troubled expression.

"If we clash directly with those demonkin, our family will suffer heavy losses. It would be better if I went all out myself."

Indeed, if Nordian unleashed his full strength, he could likely annihilate a significant number of the invading demonkin on his own.

That’s how powerful he was—

A peerless dark mage second only to the 9-star Demon Kings.

But doing so would irreversibly damage Nordian’s condition.

It was a self-sacrificial choice—meant to preserve the overall strength of the Dark Demonic House.

But Christian responded with unexpected words.

"Grandfather, sometimes I think you treat our Dark Demonic House as far too fragile. You’re overprotective."

"!!"

"More than anything, our Dark Demonic House is not weak."

Christian raised his voice and called out a list of names:

"Count Khazar! Count Berkel! Sir Merian! Viscount Hanegal! Baron Auer! Viscountess Milena!"

They were the ones who had received personal guidance from Christian during the recent instruction period.

"Each of you swore to repay the guidance I gave, did you not?"

Those named nodded solemnly.

All had pledged their gratitude to him in one form or another.

"Whatever you command, Grand Duke," Count Berkel spoke on behalf of the others.

"If you truly wish to repay me, then risk your lives to protect the dark mages of this House. That is the price I ask of you."

"!!"

Berkel’s eyes trembled.

‘He’s not just gifted. He’s the one destined to carry our House.’

And that belief wasn’t Berkel’s alone.

All those who heard Christian’s words—including every dark mage in the hall—were moved.

Especially in stark contrast to the disgraceful disappearance of Marquis Langham, Christian’s brilliance stood out even more.

And Christian wasn’t done yet.

He turned to the retainers of Marquis Langham.

Though they had suffered humiliating defeat in the recent ranking duels against Christian’s trained fighters, they were still core members of the Dark Demonic House—each one a 6-star mage or higher.

"I wonder where your master has gone."

"!!"

They looked visibly shaken.

They too were clearly bewildered by Marquis Langham’s disappearance.

‘He must’ve been so blinded by the thought of weakening Lord Nordian’s power that he acted without thinking through the consequences.’

Strategically speaking, it wasn’t a terrible scheme.

Even if he earned the scorn of the other dark mages for this, as long as he achieved his goal of crippling Nordian, the gains would’ve been worth it—for Langham, at least.

But there was one thing Marquis Langham failed to calculate.

He hadn’t foreseen the role Christian would come to play.

‘I won’t let your disgusting schemes unfold the way you want.’

Christian vowed firmly.

If anything, Marquis Langham couldn’t even begin to imagine…

What sort of consequences awaited him for what he had just done today.

Christian planned to use this very incident to deal Langham a political deathblow.

Abandoning his post in the face of a demonic invasion—there was no excuse a dark mage could make for that.

‘First things first—we deal with these demonkin.’

Christian turned toward Langham’s faction.

"I won’t hold your previous disgraceful behavior against you."

"!!"

"But as the Grand Heir, I command you—do your utmost. You too are mages of the Dark Demonic House."

You too are mages of the Dark Demonic House.

Those words struck something deep within them.

Even if they had followed Langham in pursuit of power, it was clear now.

Christian possessed a caliber of leadership and strength that Langham could never hope to match.

Finally, Christian turned to the mid- and lower-ranked mages who had slandered him at Langham’s command.

They were people who rightfully should have been punished.

But instead, Christian declared:

"You’re the same. Fight like your life depends on it. That is the punishment I give you—don’t let even one of those filthy monsters walk away alive."

The mages who had insulted him felt their chests tighten with emotion.

Langham had used them as tools to spread rumors from the shadows.

In contrast, Christian boldly forgave them and entrusted them with the defense of the family.

There was no comparison between the two.

‘If I survive this, I’ll swear loyalty to Grand Duke Christian.’

‘Me too.’

Many among Langham’s faction found themselves thinking the same.

And so, the entirety of the Dark Demonic House roared in fervent unity, admiration for Christian surging to the surface.

"Wooooaaaaahhh!!!"

"Long live Grand Duke Christian!!"

"Glory to the Dark Demonic House!!"

"Slaughter every last one of those demonkin bastards!!"

Their overwhelming momentum surged forward—so much so that even the corrupt energy of Gehenna that had blanketed the surroundings seemed to recoil and fade back.

Meanwhile, two high-ranking demonkin floating in the air sneered in amusement.

[Amusing.]

[It’s more fun when they thrash around a little.]

Christian narrowed his eyes coldly at the two upper-class demonkin.

‘Those two are the real problem.’

The other mid- and lower-ranked demonkin could be dealt with somehow.

But the moment high-ranking demonkin—those on par with top-tier mages—entered the fray, the damage would spiral out of control.

‘Father may have reached the 7-star level, but he only just broke through. He’s not yet strong enough to take on high-ranking demonkin.’

Still, it would be fine.

There was a way.

“I’ll take care of those two myself.”

Nordian frowned.

“Don’t stop me. I’m the only one here who can handle them.”

Christian nodded calmly.

“Understood. But I have a condition.”

“A condition?”

“Let me assist you.”

“You want to help me?”

Nordian looked stunned.

“Even if you’re a genius, you’re nowhere near ready to lend strength to someone like me.”

“I’m not talking about lending strength.”

Christian shook his head and clarified.

“I’ll bear the backlash from the restriction you’ve taken on.”

“!!”

Nordian’s eyes widened in shock.

“That’s absurd. Do you have any idea what kind of forbidden arts I’ve invoked?”

Nordian had employed a reversed-heaven technique—one that granted him power at the cost of a deadly restriction.

If he violated that restriction, his life force would be demanded in return.

And the key was that it wasn’t just physical depletion. It was a price that had to be paid—a dark magical contract.

Even if someone tried to supplement his life force externally, it would be meaningless.

“I know exactly what it is. And even so, it’s possible. I’ll trick the restriction.”

“…What?”

Nordian looked completely baffled.

Trick the restriction? It sounded like utter nonsense.

But Christian wasn’t joking. He spoke firmly.

“Watch.”

Christian reached into his dimensional pouch and pulled something out.

A small angelic statuette.

“A supreme-grade artifact from the House of Medical Saints. It contains refined artificial life force.”

He had taken it from Duke Huam after the dispute with the Venomous Demonic House.

Since the Venomous Demonic House and the House of Medical Saints were longtime rivals, they had amassed a good number of the latter’s treasures.

“I’ll exploit the loophole in the contract. This statue’s life force will be offered in your place.”

“That’s… absurd.”

If that were possible, who would ever sacrifice their own life?

Nordian looked like he was about to reject it outright—but then went silent.

Christian’s gaze was unwavering.

He radiated the conviction that it could be done.

“Please, trust me.”

“…You…”

Nordian shook his head slowly.

“Very well. I’ll leave it to you.”

Just then, the two high-ranking demonkin began to move.

[That old man is the biggest nuisance. What do you say—shall we split him between us?]

[He doesn’t look like an easy opponent.]

[He’s just an old fossil barely clinging to life thanks to forbidden magic. He won’t be able to exert his full strength.]

The demonkin had seen straight through Nordian’s condition.

The two of them descended from the air, closing in on him.

“Give me your hand. I need to synchronize with your life force pattern—so please don’t resist while I examine you.”

Christian grasped Nordian’s hand first.

Nordian glanced at the hand that held his.

Not that it mattered now, but he suddenly realized something:

Of all his grandchildren, Christian was the first to ever take his hand.