Chapter 192: The High Council of the Demons
Just then, General Riwal's voice broke the silence, a hint of a barely concealed amusement in his tone. "Shurahat, you promised us that the power of the 'Light of Ersten' would be ours. But it seems you can only access the small fraction of its power that leaks from the surface."
Shurahat slowly turned, and the usual calm on his face was now replaced by a clear and present agitation. He glanced at Riwal, then at the three silent Sages of Destruction, and then back at the holy sword. "It is just a small setback, Riwal," he said, and shook his head.
"I did not expect the god-slayer to have placed such a complex restriction on the sword. Though we have succeeded in corrupting its core, and have gained control over it, and can now use the power that leaks from its surface, as Grausam did, the deeper power is still beyond our reach."
"That, I know," Riwal said impatiently. When Shurahat had first brought the sword back, he had been the first to try to wield it. At first, he could barely lift it, and it was only with Shurahat's guidance that he had been able to infuse it with his own mana and reduce its weight. But it had not, as he had hoped, granted him any great power. In his hands, it was just a rather durable longsword. And it was then that Shurahat had explained the second, deeper, restriction.
"It is a sealing magic of a kind I have never seen before," Shurahat continued. "It has locked away a thousand years of accumulated faith. At present, I have no way to break it."
"Shurahat," Beze the Immortal said, and slammed a heavy fist on the table, "you have spent so many resources, you have sacrificed Grausam, you have even used the divine fragment that His Majesty bestowed upon you... for what? A trinket?" His voice was filled with an undisguised skepticism and a cold contempt.
Shurahat's face darkened, but he suppressed his anger. "It is no mere trinket, Beze. Even the power that leaks from its surface is not to be underestimated. In the future I have seen, Grausam, with its power, was able to push back Serie herself. That is proof enough of its value. As for the seal... I just need more time."
"Time?" Macht, he of the golden touch, said with a playful tone, stroking a golden ring on his finger. "His Majesty will not give us an infinite amount of it. And while you are playing with your pretty toy, our own plans have not been idle." He looked at Riwal. "And how are things on your end? The extermination of the elven race... is it proceeding smoothly?"
"Very smoothly," he said with a smile. "Under the leadership of Bazalt, the operation is proceeding in an orderly fashion. We have already eliminated seventeen elven villages scattered throughout the world, and have left no survivors, and no magical traces. The Elven Kingdom has no idea it was us."
At the mention of the name 'Bazalt', Fin the Undead, who had been silent until now, raised his head slightly. "And the elven corpses I requested?"
As a master of necromancy, he had a special use for them.
"None. Do you want the... pieces? The elves put up a surprisingly fierce resistance. There were no intact bodies."
"Tsk!" He was angry. He had specifically told that fool to leave him a few whole corpses, but he had been ignored. Useless pieces of meat.
A flicker of an almost imperceptible emotion passed over Shurahat's face. Seventeen elven villages... it was a decent progress. They had been careful, to avoid arousing suspicion. Their plan was simple: to pick them off, one by one, until only the Elven Kingdom itself was left, and then... they would launch their final, decisive attack. But it all depended on him, on his own success in breaking the seal. He had to find a way to deal with Serie. And hearing of his colleagues' own progress, a new, unsettling thought came to his mind. Can we really keep this from her, from the Elven Kingdom? And... the human swordsman... he was still alive. I don't know how, he thought, but he is.
One Serie was bad enough. But with him... his head was beginning to ache.
"Excellent!" Macht said, and clapped his hands. "Bazalt has done well. To let the elves bleed out, to cut them off at the roots... that is a truly valuable plan. Much more so than wasting your time on a toy you can't even open."
His barb was, of course, aimed at Shurahat.
"Shurahat," Beze said, his own tone now a little more serious, "you have to speed things up. The power of the holy sword is essential."
Fin the Undead just lowered his head again. He was only interested in corpses.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. "I will," he said, and turned his gaze back to the projection of the holy sword. "But you... you should be careful of the human man at Serie's side. He is powerful, especially with the Holy Right Sword, Athos. Do not engage him in a direct conflict."
"Hmph," Riwal snorted. "You may not be a warrior, Shurahat, but we are. I, for one, would like to see just how strong this man who broke your horn really is." He was the strongest warrior of the demons. If he had been interested in such things, he would have been a Sage of Destruction himself.
"Do not be careless, Riwal," he said. "And tell Bazalt to suspend his operations for now. Until the seal on the holy sword is broken, he is not to go near any of the villages around the Elven Kingdom. We cannot risk drawing Serie's attention."
"I understand," he said with a nod, though he thought his friend was being overly cautious. Bazalt was always careful.
Shurahat turned away from them and focused all of his attention on the holy sword. To break this seal, to master the power within... it was not just a mission. It was the key to unlocking the ultimate secret of the divine fragments. He would not fail.
But what none of them, not the Sages, not the warrior, not even Shurahat himself, could have known, was that, high above them, two figures had already been watching for some time. The visit of Rhodes and Serie was now just a matter of time.
~~~
Get early access to 20+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
~~~
Every 150 Power Stones = 1 extra chapter