Chapter 222. To the Tomb (2)
Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwa-gwang!
A deafening roar resounded throughout the city of Asern.
The ground-shaking impact made people stumble or collapse. Coffee cups and cakes scattered across the café floor, glass windows cracked or shattered.
For a moment, the affluent citizens, who had been enjoying leisure, thought it was an earthquake, and rushed under tables for cover. That was how violent the vibration and shock were.
At the epicenter of the blast, only ruins remained.
...Teoong!
Debris of a building went flying.
From beneath it, Verden emerged, looking around. Perne's tavern had collapsed so completely that no trace of its form remained.
The place where Hans had been just moments ago was reduced to a small crater. There wasn't even a drop of blood left behind, as if he had been erased.
"Ugh...!"
Perne, covered in dust, followed Verden out. In her arms, Blue was hiding.
Verden pulled her up by the arm.
"You're not hurt."
"Ah, no... thanks to you. But what in the world just happened?"
"Magic. Looks like Hans Deikel brought a trap with him when he escaped the ruins."
"A, a trap? What kind of ruin has this kind of magic...."
Verden narrowed his eyes.
He recalled the nature of the magic just now.
"7th-tier magic,
The highest form of 1st-tier basic magic,
Without complex procedure, it simply compresses magic power to the limit and detonates it, a type of offensive magic. Not fire-element.
The fact that the area wasn't turned into a sea of flames was the proof.
Magic with no distinct attribute had a simple structure.
Thus, though its performance was somewhat weaker compared to attribute-based spells of the same tier, it was by no means something to be underestimated.
It wasn't quite as devastating as destruction-specialized elemental magic, but any magic of the 7th tier was extremely dangerous.
'If I had responded even a little late, it would have been fatal.'
A tense sigh escaped.
Even Verden, with his high magic resistance, would have suffered severe injuries if he had taken it head-on.
Karans, Blue, and the forest spirit would have died or been mortally wounded, and Perne would not only have failed to survive, but would have vanished without a corpse like Hans.
He looked left to right.
Near the tavern, people with light wounds or in shock were visible. Thankfully, no civilians seemed to have been caught directly in the blast.
It was sheer luck that no one had been seriously injured or killed, given how close this was to the street.
'If I hadn't canceled out the shock in advance....'
The result was obvious.
The mana explosion would have blown away not only the tavern, but the entire street.
Considering Asern's population density, casualties in the hundreds would not have been surprising. It was nothing less than a terror attack, as though siege magic had been dropped in the middle of the city.
'Had I dismantled the magic circle, there would've been no problem....'
But that wasn't possible.
The circle's level was too high, and the time was too short.
Across the entire world, there were almost no one who could match Verden in dismantling magic circles. All the more so if the subject was breaking a magic circle.
When he had only been a 1st-tier, he had burned away his life to dismantle a Transcender's magic circle.
From Verden's perspective, this magic circle was lethal.
It slumbered silently, unnoticed even by a mage like Hans, then exploded when it was too late to act.
Even if one realized it halfway, if they couldn't dismantle it, there was no escape.
It was like a death sentence.
An extermination trap, leaving no intruder alive.
'So this is the Demon King's tomb.'
Though he had never seen it before, he could feel in his bones how dangerous it was. Truly, the phrase "ancient trial" was fitting.
But Verden had no intention of delaying for the future.
Even if worse traps lay ahead, he was not afraid. Unlike Seekers or other challengers of the Ark.
It was not arrogance, but confidence, certainty.
Having finished his thoughts, Verden turned his head.
Perne was poking through the rubble here and there.
"It should be around here... ah! Found it!"
She beamed, holding up intact documents.
Though her beloved tavern had been completely destroyed, she didn't seem gloomy. She was clearly different from a few months ago, when she would be shaken by every incident.
"Your tavern's gone, and you're fine with it?"
"What? Ah, I was surprised, but honestly my first thought was, 'At this point?' It's not like a civil war broke out in the kingdom. Compared to what Sir Asher has done until now, one building is nothing."
Perne shrugged.
"And besides, the important documents are intact. Some may have been lost, but I have my information network, so restoring them won't be hard. I'll just think of it as a chance to rebuild."
It wasn't bluff, it was genuine.
Her mental strength had grown. One could call it growth. Low-tier mental magic probably couldn't shake her anymore.
"I'll pay the cost."
"You don't have to... really?"
"The Seekers broke the contract. No reason to pay the 700 million Elk completion fee. Not that there's anyone left to claim it."
Besides, he had sold the black magic tome he had kept.
The tower master, his client, had bought it at a high price, as Verden wished. Not just because he had money, but likely because Verden pleased him.
Adding up the funds he held, he had more than enough to repay the 2.5 billion Elk he had borrowed from Dyna Bank.
Even a registered tome with another's mana could easily fetch billions. Rebuilding one tavern in Asern was trivial.
"Well then, I'm grateful if you say so."
Her light purple hair swayed.
Perne's eyes were already on the new tavern that would rise, not the ruins.
"But what about the aftermath? A blast in the middle of the street will cause complications."
"I'll handle it. I can deal with Asern's leadership alone. And since it looks like no real damage was done besides my tavern, in a few days it will all blow over."
Perne, the information broker.
She was the old hand of the Kingdom of Gray.
"Then where will you stay?"
"I never got the chance to mention it to you, Sir Asher, but I have safe houses all over Asern. Mostly used by my information agents. And if it comes to it, I can rely on the Marquisate of Esperanza, so you needn't worry. More importantly, what will you do now, Sir Asher?"
The answer was obvious.
"I'll head to the ruins the Seekers found."
"Judging by that trap, it looks extremely dangerous..."
"Of course. It's the Demon King's tomb."
"Ah, the Demon..."
...Demon King?
Perne suddenly covered her mouth.
Demon King? That Demon King?
The blue sapphire shown to the Seekers was a relic of the Demon King? Perne, who hadn't even flinched when her tavern was destroyed, was trembling with agitation.
As cold sweat dripped down her face, Verden spoke.
"This time will take a while. If you need anything, say it beforehand."
Her voice wouldn't come out.
She only nodded in reply.
Verden looked at the piled wreckage.
"Karans, still not done?"
"It's just finished, brother!"
Karans burst out of the rubble.
He had appeared late because his Face of Deception had been undone while he used spirit magic. To reuse it required a kind of cooldown.
With the forest spirit hidden inside his robe, Karans darted over. His movements were light and swift, befitting an elf. Dust fell as he brushed himself off.
"That was close. Had your summons been any later, none of us would have survived. Thank you, brother. But why did you call me?"
"I need your help."
"I'll help with anything. But if possible, I'd prefer somewhere wide and natural."
Karans' eyes shone.
It was the elves' innate trust in their kin. And perhaps also his yearning to escape the stress of living in crowded cities.
"As it happens, the destination is such a place."
"Oh, nature! Where is it?"
Verden turned his head eastward.
"The Eastern Marshlands."
Their next destination was set.
***
In the Kingdom of Estiria, there were four dukes.
Among them, Duke Riviant had declared independence and established a principality, while the Ducal House of Rubinelian had been annihilated for treason, servants and all.
As a result, only two dukes remained.
The Dosramd Ducal House, supporting the First Prince.
The Devon Ducal House, supporting the Second Prince.
Both were distant relatives of the Royal Family of Estiria, their bloodlines connected. But there was no familial affection between them.
It was only about who seized first, who crushed whom. They were devoted purely to ambition, and thus their loyalties to different princes were decided.
But it was loyalty that could be abandoned at any time, if profit demanded it.
Duke Devon himself served tea and pastries.
Given the guest, they were expensive, handcrafted goods.
Seating himself, Duke Devon gestured.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation. These are special confections I prepared for this occasion. I guarantee they will suit your palate. Come, eat before they cool."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Nigel, eldest son of House Dosramd, took a sip of tea.
Its refined aroma filled his mouth, sliding down his throat into his stomach. His mind grew hazy, his heart at ease.
"Hoo, this tea is truly warm."
"I'm glad it pleases you. Now then, let's have a constructive conversation."
Their meeting was unofficial.
Dragging it out would serve no one. Both knew this well.
Nigel asked.
"Very well. I have been wondering, what business brings Your Grace here?"
"Ku-hu-hu, don't pretend ignorance. Why else would I arrange such a meeting? Defection, of course."
Abandon the First Prince, support the Second Prince.
That was Duke Devon's business.
Nigel tilted his head.
"Defection. That is curious. Should that not be a matter addressed to my father, the Duke of Dosramd?"
"Do not underestimate our intelligence. We know you are already prepared to succeed the ducal seat. And the Duke of Dosramd is too old to govern. The true head is you, Nigel."
"Ha-ha, if you say so, it makes me sound like an unfilial son waiting for his father's death."
"Am I wrong?"
"Who knows."
Nigel narrowed his eyes.
The atmosphere shifted. His snake-like gaze swept over Duke Devon.
"In any case, I understand Your Grace's intention. Certainly, if House Dosramd were to support the Second Prince in this situation, the First Prince would be at a heavy disadvantage. Especially politically, he would be overwhelmed."
"You understand well."
"Of course. And if fortune smiles, ahem, one could gain greatly. So then, what is the price for this defection?"
Nigel was the measure of a ruler.
That he had built his own power even before his father's death was proof of his ability. To test him carelessly might cost dearly.
Duke Devon named his price at once.
"If the Second Prince ascends the throne, I will grant you the lands once held by House Rubinelian. I will also cede the mining rights to a newly discovered mana stone mine and a gold mine. In addition, I am willing to greatly reduce your taxes, as per agreement."
"Ahem, oh-ho, a most expensive price indeed."
If the deal was struck, Nigel would become a duke wielding unprecedented power.
Yet he wasn't entirely swayed.
For if the First Prince triumphed, the profits would still be great.
Then, Duke Devon whispered.
"And this is personal... if you act with zeal, I can ensure you gain the Doll as well."
"The Doll...?"
"Yes, the Doll."
Nigel's eyes widened.
For in the kingdom, there was only one person who could be called "the Doll".
"As you know, the Second Prince has strong lust and possessiveness, yet once he obtains, his desire fades swiftly. And when the Doll is discarded, what then? Whoever claims her becomes her master."
"Then, ahem, Princess Silis..."
"Yes, she would be yours. My sons may envy you, but so what? The man with ability deserves more, is that not the way of the world?"
He already had wealth and power.
What then drew his eye but women? The Doll Princess, Silis. The most beautiful, the noblest woman one could have in the kingdom.
"If the First Prince ascends, the princess will go to another noble or another country. You and the princess share blood, and the First Prince detests incest, so he will forbid you from even touching her. Hah, as a man, would that not be regrettable?"
Regrettable. Deeply regrettable.
Wealth, power, women. What noble could refuse the chance to have them all?
Greed boiled in Nigel's chest.
He, too, carried the blood of the Royal Family of Estiria.
"Ahem, ahem, it is indeed an offer I cannot refuse."
"Will you take the deal?"
"I, ahem, ahem. I, ahem, ahem!"
His coughing worsened.
Nigel gasped for breath, his shoulders heaving.
"My, did you swallow wrongly out of surprise? Drink your tea before it worsens."
"Th-thank... ahem! Ahem!!"
Clang!
The teacup slipped from his hand.
Grabbing his throat, Nigel coughed violently.
"Ahem! Hik. Hik. Ahem! Ahem!"
"...Huh?"
Something was wrong.
Too violent to be mere choking.
Before Duke Devon's bewildered eyes, Nigel raised his head.
Blood was streaming from his features.
"N, Nigel?"
"Uwaaaagh!"
Sticky blood poured over the table.
Nearly a lethal volume of blood. His chest heaved, he forced out words.
"S-save...."
Thud!
His head crashed into the pool of blood.
No more breath. His bloodshot eyes stared blankly at nothing. Instant death, beyond saving.
No, poisoning.
"No. What on earth is...."
Duke Devon's hands trembled.
His eyes were full of shock.
Nigel had drunk tea and... more precisely, died from poison smeared on the cup. Which made no sense.
The confections had been prepared by Devon himself, and he had no thought of killing Nigel.
Someone had interfered.
'The Third Prince? Or another? But this meeting was secret. And how could they know I'd pick that cup?'
He didn't know.
His mind spun.
"...No, that is not the issue now."
The reason for Nigel's death could wait.
The problem was the aftermath his death would cause.
This was none other than the heir of House Dosramd.
A noble like that, dead. And in front of Duke Devon, supporter of the opposing prince.
'If this is exposed....'
His face went pale. His throat felt parched, burning.
'I must cover this up.'
The culprit didn't matter.
What mattered was who died, and who was present. Once revealed, no one would listen to Devon's excuses.
In politics, results mattered more than causes.
He had to hide Nigel's corpse, erase the traces.
Fortunately, this was an unofficial meeting. No word of it would spread.
As long as he silenced witnesses.
Regaining composure befitting a duke, Devon acted at once.
"Gyaaaah!"
"Aaagh!"
He burned Nigel's corpse, slew the guards he had brought.
Finally, he cut down his own retainers from behind. Not knowing who might be tied to the culprit, he spared not a single one.
Fresh blood dripped down his blade.
Now, only Duke Devon knew of Nigel's fate.
The cleanup was perfect.
So the duke returned as though nothing had happened, and raised his guard against others.
And a few days later.
The culprit behind Nigel's disappearance was named as Duke Devon. The witness: one of Nigel's guards. The very man the duke had killed before his eyes.
Ominous war clouds gathered over the kingdom.
***
Tracking in a marsh was exceedingly difficult.
The terrain, thick with dampness, swallowed footprints in puddles, and the jumble of muck erased any artificial traces.
If it was a forbidden, foul swamp, all the worse.
So Verden alone was not enough.
He could not know where the Seekers had gone, nor how much time would be wasted.
But Karans was different.
A Guardian Elf contracted with a forest spirit could commune with nature, gain information.
For following the Seekers' trail into the marsh, none could rival him.
Verden, Karans, and the forest spirit stood at the entrance of the Eastern Marshlands, having left Asern.
Though the sun stood high, inside it was dim. Unknown insects flitted about. The stench of rot made one frown.
'Worse than the Cave without Light.'
A wretched environment.
Verden shut off his sense of smell.
But Karans would surely be different.
For elves were a people who loved nature.
At that moment, Karans asked.
"Brother, is this the nature you spoke of?"
"And?"
"This is no nature at all."
Karans face hardened.
An unexpected regional prejudice.