"You promised!"
What Berze witnessed upon reaching the site was not the original canyon, but a colossal crater that had replaced it.
Corpses were strewn everywhere, imperial soldiers lay wounded and groaning, and their wails filled the air.
And at the bottom of that crater, the black mage clutched in the First Prince's hand was gasping for breath.
Bairif?
Already captured?
Of course, he never expected Bairif to win.
But he had never imagined that everything would be destroyed this quickly.
And it wasn't even as though the four royals had combined their strength.
"…Balaf Dissrode?"
At that moment, a voice thick with anger leaked out from Rozel beside him.
Berze's gaze followed her. When his eyes reached the warrior standing guard beside the prince, he swallowed without meaning to.
A tremendous presence. Stronger and more overwhelming than anyone else here.
Balaf Dissrode.
Among all active warriors, the ten who shone the brightest were called the Stars.
And even among those ten Stars, the one held in the highest regard was Balaf Dissrode.
The indisputable strongest, the greatest warrior.
"Never thought I'd see that bastard's face here."
During the subjugation of the Beast Tower years ago, his sudden abandonment had been what triggered the collapse of the warrior expedition.
Given the damage Rozel Charnt suffered because of that, her anger was justified.
However, now was not a situation where she could recklessly step forward.
"Stop there."
Wounded knights and soldiers blocked their path. The Second Prince's knights drew their swords.
"The Black Lion Knights."
The Second Prince confirmed the battle-worn black lion emblem.
"Move."
"We cannot."
"Do I look like I'm asking?"
"It is His Highness the First Prince's order."
"So you only value my brother's orders and not mine? How am I supposed to live with this injustice!"
Floyan growled.
"But what now? I too have loyal knights no different from yours."
The knights of the White Rose Order—symbol of the Boldorbou Marquisate and loyal attendants of the Second Prince—openly revealed their killing intent.
"My knights will gladly kill every last one of you and clear the path."
The thick killing intent made even knights tense up.
Then—
"Let them through. Your older brother wants to see you, so shouldn't you show him your face?"
The knights hesitantly stepped aside. The Second Prince and Third Prince entered between them.
"Only the princes—"
"You have warriors and knights with you, but I'm supposed to go alone? What do you think about that, brother!"
The Second Prince barked.
"Just clear the way."
"We obey."
The path opened. Dozens—including knights and warriors—began descending into the crater.
There were five people inside the crater.
The First Prince and First Princess—siblings who had joined hands only for this incident—and two warriors standing as their guardians. And the black mage writhing in the First Prince's grip.
"He is not a Star."
Hillen whispered after identifying the First Princess's warrior.
"It has been a while, brother."
"Brother."
"Floyan, Martin. So you came together."
Rufus, still gripping the black mage's neck, simply turned his head.
"You too stand with Marlene, so why should I not stand with my younger brother?"
"So this is all coincidence?"
"What if—surprisingly—it is?"
"When you meet family in a strange place, you naturally feel glad. Why not continue sharing that joy a little longer?"
"With the target right in front of us? Impossible."
"But what difference will it make now that you've come?"
Rufus smiled.
"Everything is already over."
"That one black mage?"
"The one and only."
"Impossible."
"Have you seen them yourself?"
"What do you mean?"
"I saw them. I personally destroyed the undead."
"That true?"
Floyan looked at Martin. Martin turned his head toward Hillen.
"There is no way."
"Hillen Cargill."
"The undead I saw were well over a thousand. It makes no sense that one black mage could summon them all."
"You should have accepted my offer then. A foolish choice indeed. How is it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Now that things have turned out this way—do you regret it?"
"…"
Hillen stayed silent. Floyan suddenly interjected.
"Don't change the subject. If Lord Hillen speaks truth, how could a single black mage control over a thousand undead?"
"I have no need to convince you."
"Then I'll hear it from him directly."
"You dare claim the fish I caught for myself after everything is over?"
"It is not over yet."
Floyan released killing intent. Rufus's knights responded by drawing their swords. Floyan's knights growled back.
What should I do?
Berze subtly avoided Bairif's gaze. Fortunately, Bairif still hadn't realized that Berze was the demon king who had bound him.
I can't save him.
To step in here—surrounded by imperial elites and warriors—would be suicide.
Especially that one.
Balaf Dissrode. His fame as a great warrior was no exaggeration. Across both past life and current, among all warriors Berze had met, he was the second strongest.
The strongest had been the warrior with the red sword who pierced Berze's heart. Meaning, Balaf was even stronger than Hillen Cargill, who had consumed two demon kings and grown tremendously.
Nothing is going the way I planned.
The First Prince's performance was so outstanding that the Third Prince had no chance to shine.
And Bairif had been captured far too easily.
Don't blame me. You were simply weak.
Eventually, Berze decided to abandon him. Useful as he was, Bairif held no value beyond that.
Then—
Bairif's pupils widened. His gaze locked onto one spot.
…Oh no.
Berze swallowed a groan when he realized Hillen Cargill stood at the end of that gaze.
Thinking back, Berze had not been the only one who encountered Bairif.
Did Hillen Cargill wear a mask back then…?
At that moment—
"Demon king sir!"
Bairif screamed desperately, strangled in the prince's grip.
***
Bairif could not believe the reality before him.
He had taken the risk and detonated all the undead.
He had been certain it would kill them all. Even if not, he thought at least the survivors would be too gravely injured to move.
He was wrong.
Was it because he had used too much demonic energy controlling the Undead Lesser Dragon? Or was the Empire's strength simply far greater than he expected?
There were more survivors than he imagined—and above all, the warrior who slaughtered his masterpiece did not stop there.
He dug straight into the ground and destroyed Bairif's dungeon from top to bottom.
Then he seized Bairif by the neck like a fishhook and dragged him above ground—then threw him to the imperial prince.
What he faced was hundreds of surviving imperial soldiers.
Their fury heated the air. Their killing intent felt like it would murder him on the spot.
"So it's you. It was you."
The prince's rough hand tightened around his throat. He tried to resist, but he had no strength left. He thrashed, barely managing to breathe.
"Where are the others?"
Did he think there were others?
He understood. Who would believe that one person alone had created all the undead he had spent over ten years building? Unless it were the one who created them.
It was the worst situation imaginable—but for some reason, he felt a strange sense of pride.
Though he had been defeated, he felt as if his achievements had finally been recognized.
And so he spat.
Pt—
There was no deeper meaning to it.
He simply didn't like how clean and handsome the prince's face was.
"You insolent cur!"
"Your Highness!"
The knights were horrified. The prince stopped them. He wiped the yellow phlegm away with a slow swipe.
"How amusing."
He laughed. But the laughter was anything but pleasant.
Bairif felt chills run down his spine. Even so, he forced himself to appear calm. In truth, he had no reason to fear. No matter what happened, the demon king would save him.
"So you're not afraid?"
The pressure on his neck loosened, as if expecting an answer.
"I am a black mage. Death has always been by my side."
"You misunderstand."
Crack—
"Why would I—"
The strength tightened again. Bairif's face flushed red. He gasped harshly for air.
You killed my soldiers.
You crippled my knights.
You insulted my mages—and you insulted me.
"And you think I'll let you die cleanly?"
"…It doesn't matter. Foolish imperial prince."
It truly didn't matter. No matter how great the prince's fury was, no matter what he intended to do to him—
"The great…"
The demon king would save him.
Since he had sworn upon the First Demon Emperor and upon the Canon, it was inevitable.
Then, suddenly, a knight rushed down into the crater in a panic.
"Your Highness!"
"Speak."
"The Second Prince and Third Prince have arrived just beyond the rim."
"Those pests?"
Almost immediately afterward, noise erupted from above the crater.
"Make way!"
This is bad…
His faith in the demon king did not disappear. But if imperial forces increased, if the perimeter became even more heavily guarded—would the demon king truly be able to rescue him intact?
My lord demon king, if not now, you may lose your only chance!
But the demon king did not appear, no matter how silently he screamed.
Instead, more princes appeared. With more knights and more mages.
"So this was all coincidence?"
"What if—surprisingly—it is?"
Their voices rose sharply, clearly the princes did not get along.
…Huh?
Then, among the newcomers, Bairif found the demon king.
No—he wasn't the demon king.
At least, he looked like him, but Bairif could not sense even a speck of demonic energy. Instead, the man overflowed with mana so pure it was nauseating.
But that wasn't what gave him hope.
It was the warrior standing beside him.
It's him.
The warrior who had come to find him alongside the demon king.
Then surely, the demon king must also be nearby.
Where is the demon king? Is he watching me right now?
In the midst of the chaos, he scanned the surroundings. But he felt no trace of the demon king's presence.
If you mean to save me, now is the moment! While they're distracted fighting each other!
He begged desperately. He prayed that the demon king—linked to his soul—would hear him and appear.
But no matter how fierce the princes' quarrel became…
No matter how the danger to his life crept closer…
The demon king did not reveal himself.
At last, he could do nothing but scream toward the demon king who must be watching from somewhere within the canyon.
"Demon king sir!"
He shouted until his throat nearly ripped.
"Your servant is here! Please keep your promise!"
His voice echoed.
"A demon king? So that's it. The reason you dared act so high and mighty."
All eyes turned to him.
"Go on. Call him."
The First Prince mocked him.
"I'm curious what kind of pathetic demon scum dared support you and stain the Empire."
He looked down arrogantly.
"Go on."
The prince slapped him.
"Call him, I said."
"Demon king sir!"
His throat split open. Blood came up. But there was no response.
"Th-this can't be…"
"Don't tell me the demon king abandoned you?"
"N-no! Impossible!"
He had sworn upon the Canon and upon the First Demon Emperor. The demon king would never break that vow.
"Hurry! Save me! You promised to spare my life!"
"Yes, hurry and save him. Your subordinate is becoming far too pitiful!"
Even through the prince's taunting, there was still no answer.
Then Bairif finally realized something was terribly wrong.
The demon king had no intention of keeping the promise.
He was going to die here.
"N-no…!"
I can't die here.
"Save me! Hurry and save me!"
He screamed.
"You blazing Demon King, you goddamned bastard!"
You promised! You swore on the Canon and the First Demon Emperor that you would save me!
His final cry was swallowed by tears—but the first, ferocious scream had already escaped.
"…The Blazing Demon King, he said?"
And that single phrase determined where the fury of the royal family would fall.
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