CH 281

The Deputy-Chieftain had died, and the chieftains of the other tribes who had been conspiring with him had all had their left arms torn off in a show of camaraderie. A section of the city walls had also collapsed, and some of the warriors who had been lining the walls nearby were also caught up in the collapse and had been injured.

Even with all that, none of the warriors of the tribes thought to rebel against Ivatar. Even the elders of the tribe, who had most likely sided with the Deputy-Chieftain in his absence, politely greeted Ivatar and the rest of the party.

This was all because Ivatar had crushed the Deputy-Chieftain in a head-on duel before killing him, as well as tearing off the arms of the other chieftains.

While this might not have been the case if this were any other country on the continent, the tribes of this forest valued strength above all else. So once Ivatar, who had earned the right to be the Chieftain’s successor, showed his strength by killing the Deputy-Chieftain, who possessed a similar level of legitimacy, it was only natural that there wouldn’t be any backlash against his rule.

‘He’s strong,’ Cyan thought as he reconsidered Ivatar.

Though in the first place, Cyan had never thought of Ivatar as just a simple native with only his huge size going for him. Cyan possessed a skilled enough eyesight that he could evaluate an opponent’s ability. So he had recognized that Ivatar possessed enough skill that, even when compared to the Lionheart Knights, he would be able to rank as one of the Captains — no, not just an ordinary Captain, but one of the strongest among them.

However, now that Cyan had seen a true display of Ivatar's skills, he felt he needed to rate Ivatar even higher than he already had.

Even among all of the knights of the continent that Cyan had seen during the Knight March, how many of them would be able to say that they were stronger than Ivatar? Even the tribal chieftains who had conspired with the Zoran Tribe’s Deputy-Chieftain would have been able to earn a place as the Commander of a country’s knightly order if they were to move to the continent….

‘He might be built like a brick shithouse[1], but he’s actually the same age as Eugene and I,’ Cyan recalled.

When he also took Ivatar's age into consideration, Cyan felt like even more of a waste in comparison.

Yet the reality of this was unavoidable. After all, Eugene was a monster who had been evaluated as the most talented individual in all of the Lionheart clan’s history, and this Ivatar Jahav was also someone who could arguably be counted as one of the strongest tribal warriors, not just within the confines the Zoran Tribe, but in all of this vast Rainforest.

“Once again, you’re getting all mopey,” Eugene said with a sigh as he saw Cyan’s expression stiffen unnaturally.

At this comment, Cyan turned to face Eugene while feeling a flare of anger, “What did I do?”

Eugene replied calmly, “It’s obvious. After seeing Ivatar's skills, you must have thought, why am I so weak, right?”

‘Is my expression really that easy to read?’ Cyan thought as he contorted his expression and touched his own face.

Eugene continued, “Do you know just how many people there are in the whole wide world? If you were to line up everyone among the humans with a talent for fighting, then the ones who would be close to the top of the list, well… they would most likely be the famous knights you’re already familiar with. From the Lionheart clan, that would probably be the Patriarch, Lady Carmen, and myself?”

Cyan silently waited for him to get to his point.

“Ivatar has the same level of talent and skill. To put it clinically, while you and Ciel can get close to the top, reaching the peak will be difficult for you,” Eugene stated bluntly.

“You don’t say?” Cyan huffed.

Eugene coughed, “Ah, of course, while this is just the plain and simple reality of the situation, reality doesn’t always work out the way it seems it should. What I mean is, I… among the great heroes who I admire and venerate—”

“Ahem….” Just as Eugene was about to finish speaking, Mer, who was standing beside them, cleared her throat loudly and turned to stare at Eugene with narrowed eyes.

Eugene hesitated before continuing, “...I’m talking about Sir Hamel. You know, he seemed surprisingly ordinary at the very beginning, right? Compared to the heroic feats that he eventually accomplished, that is. He might have made quite an impressive name for himself as a mercenary, but in fact, Sir Hamel at that time was far from being a great hero—”

“I already know this story. Sir Hamel, who wasn’t really all that strong, quickly became stronger after becoming a member of the Great Vermouth’s party,” Cyan said with a snort. “However, Sir Hamel was only able to become stronger because Sir Vermouth was at his side. Sir Vermouth guided Sir Hamel and—”

This time, it was Eugene’s turn to interrupt, “Who the fuck said that? It wasn’t like that, though? Sir Hamel never received any guidance from Sir Vermouth. Sir Hamel got stronger because he worked hard all by himself.”

Raimira, who was standing with Mer, also turned to stare at Eugene with narrowed eyes. Similarly, Eugene chose to ignore her gaze.

“It’s also… um… thanks to the fact that he went through so many battles. Sir Hamel’s innate talent, ah, at first, it was like… um… like a flower that had yet to bloom. After experiencing many battlefields, the flower fully bloomed from the repeated battles.”

Eugene wasn’t just speaking randomly. Even in Eugene’s own esteemed opinion, that was just how his past self had been. He might have already made quite a name for himself as a mercenary… but there was no comparison between the battlefields on the continent and the battlefields within the Devildom.

Yet if he had gone to Helmuth without meeting Vermouth and becoming a member of his party….

‘...I would probably have been dead within a few years,’ Eugene silently admitted to himself.

As for whether he had received any guidance from Vermouth… he had to admit there had been a few times. However, in Hamel’s opinion, rather than the guidance, it was more the fact that there was a monster like Vermouth standing right next to him that stimulated his growth.

He hadn’t wanted to lose to Vermouth. He had always wanted to become stronger than Vermouth. All along, that was what Hamel had been most obsessed with.

“I think I get what you’re trying to say, but just what on earth do you see me as?” Cyan asked, his face still fixed in a frown.

However, seeing how his slumped shoulders had straightened out at some point during their talk, it was clear that Eugene’s encouragement had helped him.

“I might have been made keenly aware of how strong you and Ivatar are, but that doesn’t mean my spirit has died,” Cyan proudly insisted. “I’ve already experienced that kind of frustration back in the snowfields. It hasn’t had any effect on me.”

Because of his pride, Cyan couldn’t bear to honestly thank Eugene for his encouragement. And as he had just admitted, Cyan had already felt how thoroughly weak he actually was back in the snowfields. He also knew that continuing to obsess over that fact wouldn’t be of any help to his growth.

Eugene and Ivatar were strong. Cyan was weaker. However, what did it matter? Cyan didn’t think his future self would also be weaker than them.

“Really, even though your brother is doing his best to encourage you, what’s with the attitude,” Eugene said, feeling a needless sense of embarrassment as he kicked Cyan in the leg.

It was around sunset when Ivatar finally returned from the battle planning.

When he opened the door of the room and walked in, Ivatar's appearance had completely changed from how he had looked earlier. He was now wearing a helmet made from the whole skull of some beast, and he was also wearing an ornate, clinking array of necklaces and bracelets.

Lovellian was the first to greet him, “It looks like you’ve officially become the Chieftain. Congratulations.”

With a wry smile, Ivatar bowed his head as he stepped into the room.

Among all the changes in his appearance, the most eye-catching was the large tattoo that had been newly applied onto his chest. Even though it couldn’t have been that long since it had been tattooed, Ivatar’s skin looked perfectly healthy instead of red and swollen, but there was still a strong smell of blood.

But the bloody odor wasn’t coming from the tattoo.

Glancing down at Ivatar’s large hands, Eugene asked, “Did you come here after killing someone?”

“I came here after killing some pathetic, old men,” Ivatar admitted.

Eugene snorted, “To think you would start with a purge right after becoming the Chieftain.”

Ivatar shook his head, “Even if I didn’t become the Chieftain, I still would have had to kill those fools.”

It was just as Eugene had guessed earlier.

The young warriors were looking forward to the battle. However, the late Deputy-Chieftain, the chieftains of the allied tribes, and even some of the elders of the Zoran Tribe had already given up on winning this war.

While they might also have once been warriors who bravely raced through the forest and yearned for battle, now that they had grown older and had gotten their hands on more than they could hold, rather than risking death on the battlefield, they would rather die at a comfortable old age.

“It was something they decided on while I was away,” Ivatar explained. “They had agreed to lead their forces into repeated defeats, sacrificing enough blood and souls until the Kochilla Tribe was satisfied. After that, they would surrender and become part of the Kochilla Tribe.”

Naturally, Ivatar didn’t agree with any of this. As a young and belligerent man, Ivatar wanted to win this war. Most of the tribal warriors felt the same way.

“I’ve been told that a few more battles took place while I was away. Four tribes have already been destroyed, and the Kochillas have trampled all the way into the forest to the north of the Zoran Tribe,” Ivatar reported as he unfolded the large animal pelt that he had been holding in one hand and hung it on the wall.

Eugene had been wondering what Ivatar was holding, but it turned out to be a map of the forest. Ivatar narrowed his eyes as he stared at the map.

“If my memories are still correct, then the location of the World Tree and the elven territory should be around here,” Ivatar said as he stuck a huge awl into the map.

It might be called the World Tree, but that didn’t mean the tree itself was located in the exact center of the Rainforest. Instead, it was actually located quite far west of the approximate center.

Of course, it wasn’t like the World Tree was truly at that site. To be more precise, the World Tree existed within a separate dimension that overlapped that location.

“Then, from this point outwards, this is the territory of the Kochila Tribe,” Ivatar explained as he stuck another awl in a place that was far away from the World Tree.

Eugene felt a little relieved by this. While it would be impossible to open the barrier that had been placed over the site unless you had the leaves from the World Tree with you, Eugene still felt the need to be cautious.

“These are the places that have been conquered,” Ivatar resumed speaking as several more awls were stuck into the map.

Eugene, who watched silently until Ivatar was done sticking awls in all of the locations, nodded and said, “This isn’t just a simple war of conquest.”

If the Kochillas had just wanted to expand their territory, they could have just swallowed the land of the tribes surrounding them first. In fact, several of the awls had indeed been inserted around the Kochilla Tribe’s main territory, but many other awls had also been inserted far from their tribal grounds.

“I also agree with that opinion,” Ivatar said, nodding.

Lovellain and, surprisingly, Melkith both had serious expressions as they examined the map together. The two Archwizards were certain that this war was simply a precursor to the casting of a huge black magic spell.

“Allow me to put forward a certain assumption,” Lovellian eventually spoke up. “As a wizard, you need to be able to distinguish between spells that you can control and spells that you can’t. However, all wizards will eventually dream of casting greater feats of magic that they, no, that no individual would actually be able to control. In those cases, the caster needs to look for other means in order to fulfill their own shortcomings.”

“Those means aren’t necessarily limited to providing sacrifices or making contracts with higher-ranked beings,” Melkith took over the explanation. “There’s this thing known as the Earth Veins. The term refers to the circulating flow of the mana within the land itself. Wherever the mana in the Earth Veins is particularly abundant, those places come to be known as leylines, but such leylines are extremely rare….”

Lovellian resumed speaking, “I believe that most of the lands that the Kochillas have conquered are located over branches of the Earth Veins. The black wizard behind all this must be planning to use some tricks so that they can make use of the mana flowing through the Earth Veins.”

“That son of a bitch, Balzac,” Eugene spat.

Lovellian blinked in surprise at this sudden curse before hesitantly giving his opinion, “...I personally believe that Balzac isn’t the one behind this—”

“We can’t be sure of that yet. So for now, let’s assume that Balzac is the one behind all this,” Eugene proposed.

“Um…,” Lovellian couldn’t quite bear to curse Balzac without any justification whatsoever like Eugene had just done. With a cough, Lovellian changed the subject, “...Of course… this is all just speculation for now. In my opinion, I would like to leave here immediately and check what is going on at those sites with my own eyes.”

“We’ve finished our preparations for the march ahead,” Ivatar reported. “As long as I give the order, all assembled warriors will march on the Kochilla Tribe.”

“That’s quite the quick and easy solution. While pushing them back from the land that they’ve captured, step by step, it will all be over once we strike at the heart of the Kochilla Tribe,” Eugene said optimistically.

“As for the black magic, it might be possible for us to purify it on our own once we’re done,” Lovellian agreed.

As this conversation went on around him, Cyan clenched his fists nervously as he felt the reality of the war dawning on him.

Mer didn’t really have an interest in this talk that had nothing to do with her, so she was engrossed in playing rock-paper-scissors with Raimira in a corner of the room.

Someone suddenly knocked on the door.

“One moment, please,” Ivatar said, begging everyone’s pardon, as he turned towards the door.

After exiting the room for a few moments, Ivatar returned with a puzzled expression.

Ivatar then declared, “Balzac Ludbeth has turned himself in.”

“What did you just say?” Eugene demanded.

Ivatar repeated himself, “Balzac Ludbeth has turned himself in.”

Everyone assumed the same confused expression that Ivatar already sported.

Even after hearing the news directly, they still couldn’t believe it. However, once they saw him with their own eyes, they were left with no choice but to accept the truth.

This was one of the Three Mages of Incarceration, Aroth’s Black Tower Master, a black wizard whose intentions were unknown and whose very behavior was suspicious, as well as the prime suspect for being the black wizard behind all of this.

Yet having been tied up, Balzac Ludbeth was led into the room by a few warriors. Even the robe Balzac had initially been wearing upon his surrender had been taken off, and all his weapons had also been confiscated.

A longsword with a black blade, four daggers, a pocket artifact that was enchanted with spatial magic, and his magic staff. Even the glasses that Balzac was always wearing had been taken from him, and his shoes were also stripped, leaving him barefoot. Both hands had been bound so they couldn’t move, and his mouth had also been gagged to prevent him from casting any incantations.

It was quite a pathetic appearance.

Upon being led into the room, Balzac’s first action was to bow his head to everyone.

Thanks to the gag between his lips, he couldn’t say anything to greet them.

Still flustered by this surprise, Eugene pointed at Balzac and demanded, “What the hell are you up to?”

Unable to reply, Balzac could only smile wryly.

After sending the warriors who had led Balzac here back out of the room, Ivatar turned to look back at Eugene and hesitantly asked, “...Do we need to torture him?”

Balzac shook his head at this.

Eugene’s brow furrowed, and he raised a finger. A sharp blade of wind tore out the gag between Balzac’s lips.

“Long time no see,” Balzac said in greeting as soon as his mouth was freed.

Eugene’s brow furrowed once more. For a moment, he considered whether he should slice apart the restraints binding Balzac’s hand or if he should just aim for Balzac’s throat.

“Why have you come here?” Lovellian asked after he had recovered from his surprise.

To think that Balzac would suddenly turn himself in. Since Balzac was someone whose true intentions were difficult to scry, even this action might be part of a scheme leading up to something else. Melkith had already made preparations to summon one of her Spirit Kings, and Kristina had also grabbed the handle of her flail.

“The one manipulating the Kochilla Tribe is Edmond Codreth,” Balzac confessed.

That didn’t answer why he was here. Even though Lovellian had been prepared to cast a spell that would incinerate Balzac’s body as soon as he said something that wasn’t an answer to Lovellian’s question, in the end, Lovellian couldn’t cast the spell that he had prepared and was left gaping open-mouthed.

“Edmond has dispatched his elite forces to occupy Samar’s Earth Veins, and the goal of this war is to interfere with the flow of mana below,” Balzac continued to reveal.

“Hold on…,” Lovellian tried to pause for thought.

Balzac hastily continued, “Edmond has already made quite a lot of progress towards his goal. Once the spell is complete, Edmond will become a Demon King.”

This news left everyone speechless. Kristina also unconsciously leaped to her feet, and Eugene’s eyes darkened coldly.

A Demon King.

They had had their suspicions. However, deep down, they had thought that it was impossible. Eward was just a special case. The Remnants of the Demon Kings lingering within the Demonic Spear and the Annihilation Hammer were only able to prepare such a ritual by focusing their attentions on whispering into Eward’s ear and corrupting him.

On that day, the Remnants of the Demon Kings that had appeared at the Black Lion Castle had been completely annihilated. Even if the spell had been leaked by the now-deceased Hector, it should still be impossible to become a Demon King by casting that spell unless there were still some remaining Remnants of the Demon Kings.

Eugene expressed his doubts, “That should be impossible.”

“It would be impossible for someone like myself,” Balzac corrected. “It would be impossible even for Amelia Merwin. However, if it’s Edmond, then it’s very much possible. Because he possesses the Vladmir and is making use of the many advantages that he has prepared within this forest.”

Lovellian composed himself, “For now, Black Tower Master, please answer the question. Why have you come here? Why did you surrender yourself?”

“In regards to my surrender, it’s just as you can see. I gave myself up in order to cooperate with Sir Eugene and the rest of you,” Balzac stopped speaking for a few moments to examine everyone’s expressions. “...This might offend you all, but I was personally keeping an eye on you as you approached the capital of the Zoran Tribe. That was due to the fact that I was keeping an eye on the Zorans because of their war with the Kochillas.”

Balzac had familiars assigned to perform surveillance duties hidden all over the Zoran Tribe. He had also witnessed the commotion that had occurred earlier at the city walls.

“Cooperation?” Eugene repeated as he glared into Balzac’s face with narrowed eyes. “I don’t think I can trust that offer. After all, how do I know that anything you’ve said is the truth?”

“If that’s the case, then how about just listening to me for now? Then you can go and check out the truth for yourself once I’m done telling you everything. If it’s the Red Tower Master and the White Tower Master, they should be able to tell whether I am telling the truth just by examining the Earth Veins that have been occupied by the Kochilla Tribe,” Balzac counter-offered.

Eugene frowned, “What reason would you have for betraying Edmond?”

“Hah… Sir Eugene, that accusation is mistaken,” Balzac shook his head with a sigh. “Edmond and I aren’t in a relationship close enough for there to be any betrayal. After all, I have never been all that supportive of Edmond’s goals from the very beginning. In the first place, Edmond doesn’t even know I’ve come to this forest.”

Balzac stopped speaking for a few moments as he was lost in thought.

He eventually continued, “However, he should have found out by now. After coming to this forest, I’ve been making sure to move extremely carefully, but I probably exposed my presence when I surrendered to the Zoran Tribe.”

“Are you saying that the Kochillas have eyes within the tribe?” Ivatar growled.

Without showing any signs of shrinking back as Ivatar’s massive frame stomped over to his side and glared down at him, Balzac calmly replied, “It would be strange if there weren’t any. Please don’t worry too much. After this conversation is over, I can reveal all of the eyes that Edmond has stationed within your capital.”

“If it’s a problem for you to have been seen by those eyes, you should have approached us secretly. So why did you choose to surrender yourself publicly?” Eugene questioned.

“I thought that if I tried to approach you secretly, there would be a high probability of getting killed by a blind stroke of Sir Eugene’s sword,” Balzac honestly confessed. “Also, I believe that it would be much better for me to surrender myself and cooperate with you, Sir Eugene, than it would be for me to stay undercover.”

“Better for who exactly?” Eugene demanded.

“Of course, it’s for all of us. Once he knows that you are here, Sir Eugene, and he finds out that I’ve joined you as well… then even Edmond, who’s known for always being cool and composed, will start to get nervous. Especially since that guy… ah… despite how I’m describing him, we really aren’t that close. It’s just that I don’t really have anything else to say, so I was just speaking as I normally do,” Balzac quickly excused himself.

“That’s enough, so why would Edmond become nervous because of this?” Eugene prompted.

“It’s because the two of us have both signed a contract with the Demon King of Incarceration,” Balzac said in a serious tone. “Edmond will be sure that I am up to something. He has to be wary about the possibility that the spell he has worked so hard to prepare might be usurped by me, so he will try to complete the ritual in a hurry even if his preparations don’t quite measure up yet.”

Eugene frowned, “You say that like it would be a misunderstanding on Edmond’s part, but that might just be your true intention.”

“If that was really the case, then why would I have come here?” Balzac pointed out.

Eugene felt that Balzac was telling the truth. If he truly did intend to usurp control of Edmond’s black magic, there would be no reason for him to come here. Instead, it would make more sense for him to stay hidden the whole time, only revealing himself at the moment that Eugene clashed with Edmond, stealing control of the spell for himself.

“I can swear on my very being and my soul,” Balzac’s voice resonated with the heavy tones of a magical oath. “I have no intention of becoming a Demon King. I would rather remain as the existence known as Balzac Ludbeth, a human being. I long to live as a human and die as a human.”

Explore the extended edition on pawread dot com.

Eugene fell silent.

“As to the reason I’ve come here, it’s for the sake of stopping Edmond from becoming a Demon King,” Balzac said with a smile as he faced Eugene. “And to do that, I intend to help the Hero, Sir Eugene.”

These didn’t feel like the words that a black wizard should say.

1. The original Korean text uses an old-fashioned slang term to describe someone that’s very large and muscular, the literal translation of which is a rice-cake stand. ☜