Mere minutes later, Dark passed safely across the ropeway, without even using the "Flying Charm" he'd prepared in advance.
Those vultures were just like all the monsters he'd encountered along the way—paper-thin, utterly unable to withstand Hawlucha's attacks.
Once he successfully set foot on the black soil, he offered Hawlucha a word of praise and recalled it into its Magic Guide Card.
Then he pressed onward.
His destination, the "Demon King's Castle," was right before his eyes. According to the message Professor Silf had sent earlier, Virt and the others had all already entered the "Demon King's Castle" and were carrying out the final assault.
As the very center of the entire ritual, the monsters guarding the "Demon King's Castle" naturally could no longer be as fragile as before—the difficulty of the assault would be greatly increased.
But with the assistance of Tom Nixon and Professor Ryan Hacks, it wouldn't be difficult for Virt to break through.
The challenge lay in the fact that this was a ritual centered on the "Hero."
As the one playing the "Hero," Virt had to rely on his own strength as much as possible. The rest of his companions could only serve as embellishments, and must not steal the spotlight.
On this point, it required Tom Nixon—who understood part of the "script"—to guide him.
"Guiding the Hero to vanquish the Demon King" was also one of the missions of the "Magician" role that Tom Nixon played.
In addition, Ryan Hacks, as the one playing the "Old Grandfather" role, appeared on the surface to be an aged cripple who would not easily make a move—perfectly fitting the definition.
Of course, the current situation was unclear.
Professor Medea could only "see" that the points of light representing them had already gathered together, but she did not know whether they had actually joined up.
Perhaps Ryan Hacks was still observing from the shadows—it wasn't out of the question.
The purpose of Ryan Hacks's outing tonight, just as he had told Dark earlier, was to track down the red-haired woman—that is, the one playing the "Demon King": Ophelia Brad.
Ophelia had deliberately paraded herself once before his eyes, and had smoothly lured him out.
For now, the entire ritual seemed to be proceeding fairly smoothly.
Had Ophelia Brad not transmitted the numeric message through a gate card, neither Silf nor Professor Medea would have felt any alarm.
Because toward Ophelia Brad, they were filled with trust.
...
"Ophelia Brad—did something go wrong with her before she made contact with Professor Silf, or after she made contact with Professor Silf?"
Even though he had already arrived at the "Demon King's Castle," Dark was still pondering this question, unable to make sense of it.
"If it's the former, that means she deliberately made contact with Professor Silf and took the opportunity to guide her into proposing this ritual. In that case, the ultimate direction of this ritual is open to question."
"On that premise, the account she gave to Professor Silf must be laced with lies."
"At the very least, the purpose of removing the Embrace's influence is surely fabricated."
"Then her original goal should have been merely to revive Vampire Vlad and restore his memories."
"But because she was caught by Professor Silf, she was forced to turn herself in and play along—and perhaps, in the course of their conversation, even more ideas took shape in her mind."
"Such as constructing a ritual like this, fabricating a scenario in which 'the Demon King can kill the Hero'!"
"If the ritual's final direction becomes 'the Demon King slaying the Hero in return,' then with the ritual's help she could very likely complete an advancement of her bloodline."
"Just as after being Embraced by a vampire, one must advance from blood slave to Blood Demon, and then to Vampire."
"Ophelia Brad must surely undergo a similar process."
"If the ritual goes as she wishes, she might just obtain from it the qualification to become the Demon King."
"The possibility isn't low."
"But I'm more inclined toward the latter."
"If it's the latter… then most likely the ritual itself affected her, and instead spurred the completion of the Embrace."
"After all, she is the 'Demon King' defined by the ritual."
...
"Human nature may be complex, but Ophelia Brad is, after all, Virt Gold's mother. Even a fierce tiger will not devour its own cubs… let us hope so."
The instant he stepped into the Demon King's Castle, a bone-chilling coldness suddenly washed over him, making one shudder involuntarily.
Dark glanced at the crumbling walls and ruins around him, discovering many traces of battle.
After a brief moment of thought, he still murmured in a low voice, "DemiDevimon, track."
DemiDevimon, flying through the air in its familiar form, immediately activated the familiar-exclusive "tracking" ability.
Its eyes bulged wide as it rapidly gathered information, its body instinctively flying off in a certain direction.
Dark gave a word of instruction each to Leomon and Gatomon, then cautiously followed behind.
Because the assault had to center on the "Hero," Virt and the others' pace couldn't be too fast.
Professor Medea had also been keeping track of their progress the whole time.
There was still plenty of time.
...
The entire Demon King's Castle was a faithful reproduction, its interior passages extending in all directions. The deeper in he went, the less effective DemiDevimon's "tracking" ability became.
Dark had no choice but to take out "Drifloon's" Magic Guide Card, and combining it with the traces along the way to confirm his route, he groped his way forward.
The monsters along the path had mostly already been cleared out by the "Hero" and the others, so he encountered almost no obstruction.
Not long after, Dark had already penetrated deep into the interior of the Demon King's Castle.
"I should be getting close?"
A premonition from somewhere unseen reached his mind, and Dark slowed his steps.
Everything he currently thought was mere speculation.
His task was to ensure the smooth progress of the ritual.
Even if something truly had gone wrong with Ophelia Brad, so long as the ritual's own direction did not go astray and it successfully constructed the final ending of "the Hero killing the Demon King," the "Embrace" within Ophelia Brad's body could still be smoothly removed.
In other words, all he needed was to "kill the Demon King" within the ritual.
The challenge lay in the fact that the "Demon King" was the Blood Princess, one of the heroes of the Golden Generation!
"With a hero of the Golden Generation as my opponent, what are my odds of victory?"
"No good—I'm getting excited!"
...
Atop the Spiral Clock Tower.
Still inside the Pumpkin Carriage, Professor Silf narrowed her eyes as she looked at a wisp of fresh breeze in her hand.
That wisp of breeze, which by rights should have had no form, before her two fingers was like a lump of dough, kneaded at her will.
"Medea, what odds of success do you think there are?"
Facing Professor Silf's question, repeated who knew how many times, Medea answered impatiently, "One hundred percent."
Professor Silf's face turned serious. "I'm talking to you properly!"
Moonlight flickered in Professor Medea's eyes, and her expression suddenly shifted. "It's about to begin!"
Professor Silf's brows knit, and she immediately reached out and tapped—the wisp of "[Wind Spirit]" that had been kneaded into a fine needle instantly began to tremble violently.
Then, the wisp of "Blessing of the Wind Spirit" hidden among Dark's hair vibrated in sync, giving off a faint sound.
"The final battle has begun!"
...
Dark instantly focused his mind—a "[Paradise]" card had already slid into his palm.
"Leomon!"
"Here."
At Dark's call, Leomon quickly half-crouched.
Dark flipped over and cleanly, deftly seated himself upon its shoulder.
It raised a hand to steady his body, then stood straight up.
Dark's field of vision shot upward in an instant. Once he had settled his stance, he immediately said, "Get ready. Move out."
Almost at the same moment, an explosive boom—somewhat muffled after being dampened by layers of walls—suddenly rang out.
Leomon needed no command; it immediately raced toward the source of the sound.
Gatomon accompanied it at its side like the wind.
DemiDevimon flapped its wings desperately to keep up behind.
The passages were crossed in the blink of an eye.
...
"We're here."
Leomon halted at the entrance of a towering, massive hall, without exposing itself.
Within the hall.
Ophelia Brad reclined against the throne, a trace of languor on her face.
That enormous throne, inlaid with treasures, was truly far too large relative to Ophelia's normal human frame.
As she leaned against it, it was as though she were lounging upon a bed.
A head of long hair, crimson as fresh blood, cascaded down like a waterfall, streaming along the throne to the floor and pooling carelessly upon the ground like a pond of water.
Immersed within the ritual, Ophelia Brad had completely shed her disguise, not only revealing her truest hair color but also displaying her exquisite features without the slightest concealment.
Her skin was fair to the point of paleness; her deep pupils and high-bridged nose, paired with lips that were petite yet sensual, gave her a strikingly three-dimensional look.
On her left cheek, a fine blood-red pattern—like a musical note—stretched from the corner of her left eye all the way to her jawbone, seductive and dazzling.
Tracing down her slender neck, her collarbone was exquisite and delicate, and the slight hollow of her shoulder seemed as though it could draw one's soul inward.
Having released herself to the fullest, Ophelia Brad was heart-stirring and grand; a form-fitting gown perfectly traced the curves of her body, prominent as lofty mountain ranges.
From head to toe, she radiated a thick, alluring charm.
This was completely different from the Blood Princess-related files and photographs Dark had seen at Professor Silf's place.
The Blood Princess of her student days should have been an introverted, shy, black-haired girl.
The Blood Princess of her battlefield days had become gentle and skilled, generous and graceful.
"If what I'm seeing before me isn't an act…"
Dark drew a deep breath and looked out over the whole scene.
The ritual's "final battle" had not long begun, yet the situation had already developed toward an unexpectedly dire turn.
As a precious combat asset on the "Hero's" side, the third-year honors student—Tom Nixon—had unexpectedly already collapsed unconscious on the ground.
Ryan Hacks, who seemed to have appeared suddenly and rescued Tom Nixon, was now leaning on his cane and administering emergency treatment to him.
Yet the "Hero" Virt and his "partner" Robert both stood in the very center of the hall, looking as if they were… dazed?
...
Dark rapidly dissected the information before him.
Tom Nixon was the one holding part of the "script."
If Ophelia Brad wanted to guide the ritual toward the direction she anticipated, she would necessarily have to deal with him first.
The "lies" laid over the surface of the ritual could not be exposed.
And though Tom Nixon was by no means weak, because he knew the "script," he held no wariness toward Ophelia Blood—so being defeated when caught off guard was well within reason.
That explosive boom just now was likely the sound of Tom Nixon's emergency defense being shattered.
As for why Virt and Robert were standing dazed in the arena?
Dark simply could not analyze it.
His gaze continued to search, finally landing upon the Blood Magic Circle situated to one side of the throne.
Within the magic circle radiating blood-red brilliance, a fluid like blood flowed swiftly.
A glass bottle, thirteen centimeters in diameter, floated quietly above the magic circle.
The glass bottle held a transparent liquid.
A plump, flesh-and-blood infant was curled up within it.
This was, without a doubt, the infant form of Vampire Vlad!
Dark felt the "Drifloon" Magic Guide Card tremble, and at last gained a relatively comprehensive understanding of the situation in the arena.
"Come out."
Just as Dark was attempting to continue observing, Ophelia Brad upon the throne languidly spoke.
Her scarlet pupils stared directly toward this side without the slightest concealment.
Dark knew he had been discovered.
He leaped down from Leomon's shoulder and strode into the hall.
The broad, vast hall, its finely carved beams and pillars, the lamp-stands inlaid all across the walls.
The hall was brilliantly bright under the glow of the flames.
The elegantly composed golden-haired youth stepped over the raised threshold, advancing forward with perfectly even strides.
"Good evening, Lady Ophelia Brad. This is our third meeting."
Counting the exchange of glances at the Dueling Festival, it could barely be called the third time.
Even as Dark thought this, Ophelia Brad suddenly said, "Good evening, child of Alvit. I have been waiting for you for a long time."
Dark's brows furrowed slightly.
Ophelia Brad then extended her slender index finger and lightly tapped toward the glass bottle floating above the magic circle at the side of the throne.
The infant in that bottle abruptly opened both eyes, crimson blood-light bursting forth from within them.
The "Drifloon" Magic Guide Card hidden in Dark's sleeve immediately let out a hum, once again releasing a crimson pillar of light that shone upon that infant.
Dark's brows knit deeper.
Ophelia's smile grew richer.
...
The sudden appearance of Dark Demon, and just two lines of exchanged words, caused the atmosphere at the scene to abruptly shift.
Ryan Hacks noticed him more quickly, sharp glints flashing within his grave eyes.
He had originally meant to shout out, to warn him to leave at once.
But the two lines Dark and Ophelia exchanged immediately after startled him into sudden alertness. He grew suspicious of Dark Demon as well, and merely let his gaze shift warily back and forth between him and Ophelia.
Virt Gold and Robert Broheim were a beat slower before they realized someone had once again entered the hall.
The two turned around at the same time.
After clearly seeing Dark, Robert exclaimed in astonishment, "Dark, why have you come too?"
But Virt's face was suffused all the while with joyful surprise. Even as he turned to look at Dark, the smile at the corner of his mouth simply could not be contained.
Dark glanced at Tom Nixon, collapsed on the ground, and could not for the life of him understand why Virt would wear such an expression.
But out of concern for his classmate, he still said, "Virt, don't stand in the middle."
Yet Virt paid him no heed whatsoever.
He didn't even care why Dark had appeared here; he only urgently wanted to share his own joy.
"Wait, Dark, listen to me."
"I found my mom!"
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