VOLUME 15: CHAPTER 7

VOLUME 15: CHAPTER 7

While Lark was busy reconstructing his body and forging the floating castle, various forces across the continent moved silently in the background.

It was a relatively peaceful time.

The appearance of the Coalition Army, the death of the former Pirate King, and the demon army’s retreat into the portal had brought unprecedented calm to the continent.

Even the Great Empire, which had been waging war on numerous fronts, expressed its intention to form temporary ceasefires with its neighboring nations.

Some speculated that the leader of the Coalition Army was secretly controlling the Empire from the shadows, while others believed the Empire had simply grown weak after bearing the brunt of the demons’ attack.
After the Great Empire submitted to the Coalition, the name of Lark Marcus began resounding throughout the land.

The Man Who Made the Mad Emperor Kneel.

The Wise King.

The Rising Dragon of Lukas.

Various titles clung to Lark as he gained tremendous fame. Even the Council of Scholars revised their initial assessment of him, going so far as to place him within the top ten. From the forty-ninth rank, Lark Marcus of the Kingdom of Lukas now stood seventh in the Council of Scholars’ rankings.

This simple declaration caused an uproar among the various powers of the continent. They could hardly believe that someone so young had been ranked among the living legends of the world.

Many who believed the rumors surrounding the young king were exaggerated weren’t pleased.

“Give them peace, and they will forget why they once sharpened their swords.”

Duke Hara, one of the leaders of the Three States Alliance, was among them.

“A brat young enough to be my grandchild is trying to assert his dominance over the continent? It isn’t even funny.”

Duke Hara was seated inside his lavish carriage. Two stunning women, their faces heavily painted with makeup, massaged his arms and shoulders.

Outside, the galloping of horses and the clanking of armor echoed in the distance.

Escorted by nearly three hundred soldiers, the Duke was en route to the Kingdom of Steelwall to meet the Holy Father, the highest-ranking priest of the Temple of the Sun God.

Though smaller than the Temple of the Water God, the Sun God's temple was composed of zealots consumed by unwavering conviction. To its followers, the truth they upheld was not only sacred – it was the only truth, eternal and absolute. Doubt was sin. Compromise, betrayal.

Their faith had been gaining traction, especially amid the chaos of recent wars.

With numerous branches worldwide and an army strong enough to rival a small nation, they held considerable political and religious sway.

For this reason, the remaining countries that had yet to join the Coalition Army chose to hold a meeting in the Holy Land – an autonomous territory within the capital of the Kingdom of Steelwall.

The Three States Alliance.

The Kingdom of Steelwall.

The Principality.

The Mullgray Islands.

These nations had agreed to convene and discuss recent global developments.
Other southern nations like the Kingdom of Thornforge and the Dukedom of Mauko had also yet to join the Coalition, but they were too far to be included in this summit.

“What do you think, Kiera? That Marcus kid. You’ve met him before, haven’t you?”

One of the women massaging the Duke’s shoulders was someone familiar: the Emperor’s daughter, Kiera Lockheart Mavis.

Honoring a promise to Princess Luna, she’d been sent to Duke Hara after the demon incident in the imperial capital.

Once the leader of High Society, Princess Kiera had been reduced to a mere concubine of a foreign warlord. One could even say her status was lower than that of a slave. No—considering the unspeakable things the Duke had done to her over the past few months, her fate was far worse.

“Mmmm… Mmmm!”

Duke Hara chuckled darkly.

“Hahaha! Can’t answer, huh? That’s right—I forgot. I cut off your tongue and stitched half your mouth!”

The lipstick concealed the threads, but currently, half of Princess Kiera’s mouth had been stitched shut by Duke Hara’s men days after she arrived in the Three States Alliance.

Princess Kiera had been quite fierce upon her arrival back then.
Like a rabid beast, she kicked and bit anyone who dared to touch her inside her cell. She even went as far as to spit and throw dirt at her captors just to spite them.

Seeing her defiance and arrogance, the Duke immediately ordered her tongue cut out to set an example for the other concubines and servants. And when even that wasn’t enough to make her submit, he also ordered half of her mouth to be stitched shut. A slave brand, created by the mages of the Three States Alliance, was forcefully engraved on her back, causing excruciating pain whenever she attempted to rebel against her master.

Ever since then, the former princess of the Empire had become an obedient dog to Duke Hara.

“Hahaha! Emperor Sylvius is really one damn heartless bastard!”

The Duke affectionately stroked Kiera’s hair. He loved the glimmer of rebellion still smoldering in her eyes.

“When I heard he was sending me a gift, I thought it would be an artifact or treasure. But his daughter? Hahaha!”

Tears welled in Kiera’s eyes.

She could do nothing now—not with the slave brand on her back.

Still, the Duke knew she was scheming. Plotting. Dreaming of revenge.

“Heh~ What do you expect from a man who kills his own children when they’ve outlived their usefulness?”

Duke Hara had met the Emperor before, and his judgment of the Devourer of Lands was blunt. Even calling him a “madman” felt like an understatement.

Though Emperor Sylvius currently doted on Princess Luna, Hara had no doubt he would discard her the moment it became necessary.

Everything the Emperor did was cold, calculated.

The rumors that he had changed after submitting to Lark Marcus? Duke Hara didn’t believe them for a second.

It wasn’t that easy to change a man’s nature

“Lark Marcus… Lark Marcus… how intriguing. He made even Sylvius submit to him. But how? Are the demons really that frightening? Hmm…”

Duke Hara continued stroking the former princess’s hair.

“Kiera… I’m starting to regret cutting off your tongue. If you could speak, I would have learned more about Lark Marcus by now.”

The former princess’s shoulders trembled. It was clear she was struggling to hold back her tears. The other woman in the carriage—her spirit long since broken by the Duke—simply continued massaging his shoulders in silence.

Kiera could feel it: given more time, she would likely end up like that woman too. Broken. Soulless. Without a will of her own.

“Kiera, my dear Kiera. I’ve recently gotten my hands on some potions. Tell me—do you want to be healed? You want to be able to speak again, yes?”

Seeing the hopeful expression that crossed the former princess’s face at those words, Duke Hara chuckled.

This woman was perfect for his entertainment.

Where else would he find a former imperial princess to toy with?

He hoped she wouldn’t break too quickly. That way, he could continue savoring her torment. And to keep that hope alive, he needed to give her something—just a sliver.

Hope.

It was the most powerful drug in the world, capable of turning even the most obedient slave into a rebellious monster.

“If you prove useful to me one day, I’ll think about it. So, stop being a rabid dog and serve me obediently from now on, yes?”

The former princess did her best to hide her murderous intent as she bobbed her head.

Duke Hara smirked in amusement.

To him—a man who had been scheming and murdering since the age of fifteen—Princess Kiera was too transparent. Even without words, he could clearly tell what she was thinking and feeling. And that only made her more entertaining.

How would she try to kill him in the future?

Would she poison his wine?

Stab him in the night?

Duke Hara looked forward to it.

***

After several more hours of travel, the group finally arrived at the Kingdom of Steelwall.

The Land of Order and Faith.

True to its name as a Holy Land, the Kingdom of Steelwall was filled with churches and temples in every city. Devotees thronged the streets, and statues of saints and gods adorned the entrances of shops and homes. Across the entire continent, this was the only nation composed entirely of followers of the Sun God.

Following the teachings of the Holy Father, this was also one of the only nations—aside from the Kingdom of Lukas—where slavery was not rampant.

“Duke Hara, we are the Holy Knights from the Order. Under the command of the Holy Knights Commander, we are to escort you to the capital.”

Only five knights had been dispatched, but Duke Hara didn’t make the mistake of underestimating them.

It was common knowledge that the requirements to join the Holy Order were stringent. Even the finest knights wouldn’t qualify unless they possessed both great strength and unshakable faith.

Each of these knights could likely fend off an entire platoon on their own.

In many ways, the Holy Order was a formidable organization of religious fanatics—zealots who wouldn’t hesitate to go to war at a single word from the Holy Father.

The fact that five of them had been sent to escort Duke Hara was a clear sign of the importance the Commander of the Holy Knights placed on his arrival.

Even Duke Hara, for all his arrogance, didn’t let a hint of disdain show on his face. Smiling, he replied, “Of course. Lead the way.”

Escorted by the Holy Knights, the Duke and his retinue entered the capital.

A week later, the key figures representing each nation and organization had arrived:

Duke Hara, ruler of Creis of the Three States Alliance.

Marquis Gorgo, ruler of Lanseax of the Three States Alliance.

Marquis Rangrith, ruler of Rivermouth of the Three States Alliance.

Prime Minister Alegra of the Principality.

Snake-tongue Samuel, right-hand of the new Pirate King.

King Clemencia of the Kingdom of Steelwall.

And Treyton Ellis, Commander of the Holy Knights of the Sun God Temple.

These prominent individuals had gathered today to discuss the growing threat of the demons—and the newly formed Coalition Army, led by King Lark Marcus.

And more than that…

They had gathered to discuss the possibility of forming a coalition of their own.

***

The Grand Order, located in the Holy Land of the Kingdom of Steelwall, served as the headquarters of the Holy Knights of the Sun God Temple.

Housing two hundred Holy Knights, eight hundred squires, two thousand ordinary soldiers, and twelve Paladins, this place boasted the most powerful military force among all religious orders.

It was also the home of the Holy Father, the vicar of the Sun God himself.

“On behalf of the Holy Father, I express my gratitude to everyone for coming all the way here to the Grand Order.”

Commander Treyton of the Holy Knights delivered these words with dignity and respect.

Although this gathering was proposed by the Three States Alliance, both the Sun God Temple and the Kingdom of Steelwall had deemed it a necessary measure in such turbulent times.

The demons—once thought to be mere myth—had revealed themselves and brought catastrophe to nations across the continent.

Even the Sun God Temple had been shaken by the revelation.

“Unfortunately, His Holiness isn’t feeling well, so he has sent me in his stead.”

Some of the leaders seated around the round table nodded in understanding.
It was common knowledge that the Holy Father was very old, and his health had been in steady decline over recent years. Still, his authority within the Grand Order remained unshakable.

“Please convey our wishes to the Holy Father,” said Marquis Gorgo. “We sincerely hope he recovers soon.”

“I shall do so, Marquis,” Commander Treyton replied.

The Commander’s gaze swept over everyone present.

In truth, as a servant of God, he disliked most of the people in the room.
Many were immoral and corrupt—some outright murderers who viewed human lives as expendable.

‘Especially that man.’

His eyes paused on Duke Hara, seated directly across from him.

The Duke’s reputation for cruelty was no secret. Like a devil, he used concubines and slaves for his amusement without a shred of humanity.

Noticing the Commander’s gaze, Duke Hara gave a pleasant, innocent smile. He had expected to be met with prejudice.

“I’ve heard of the Holy Father’s condition,” said Duke Hara. “I brought some potions—capable of regrowing even severed limbs. I hope His Holiness finds them useful.”

Commander Treyton was visibly surprised. Matters concerning the Holy Father always stirred strong emotions in him.

That man was like a father to him—the one he respected most.

The Holy Father was not only kind and benevolent, but he truly believed that the Church existed to serve the people, and that evil must be culled at its root.

If not for the dire threat posed by the demons, the Holy Father would never have allowed such individuals to gather in the Holy Land.

“The potion can regrow lost limbs?” muttered Commander Treyton. “Is that true?”

To his knowledge, only priests of Saint-level could perform such miracles.
Since Saint Rosario’s death two decades ago, no others had risen to that rank.

And the Holy Father’s illness was not ordinary—it stemmed from years of overexposure to divine power. His faith had been so absolute that he had formed a direct link with the Sun God the moment he became vicar.
But divine power, in excess, was poison to mortals.

Because of this, healing spells were ineffective. Their only hope now lay in rare potions.

“Of course,” said Duke Hara, still smiling. “I tested it myself.”

Commander Treyton didn’t ask how the Duke had tested the potion. He instinctively knew the answer would disgust him.

“I must say,” continued the Duke, “this potion rivals the elixirs of legend. When I obtained it, I immediately thought of His Holiness. I hope he finds it helpful.”

The potion had been smuggled from the Kingdom of Lukas via the networks of Big Mona and the Golden Crow Association of the Empire. Knowing the Grand Order’s desperation, Duke Hara had joined an underground auction and paid a fortune to acquire it.

Commander Treyton bit his lip. Though reluctant, he bowed his head.

“Thank you, Duke Hara. The Grand Order will not forget this favor.”

Just those words made all of Duke Hara’s efforts worthwhile.

As expected, the best way to curry favor with religious zealots was through the Holy Father.

“It’s just a potion,” said Duke Hara, wearing a righteous mask. “If it can ease His Holiness’s suffering, I’ll gladly procure more.”

But not everyone was pleased with this exchange.

“Can we start already?” growled Snake-tongue Samuel, right-hand to the new Pirate King. “We’ve been spewing nonsense long enough. Holy Father this, Holy Father that. Are we going to form an alliance or not?”

King Clemencia frowned, and Marquis Randgrith sighed.

Everyone turned to the pirate, eyes narrowed as if he were a wild beast.

“What’s with those looks? Want me to gouge your eyes out?” Samuel snapped. “You mainlanders invited us pirates, but all you’ve done is flap your mouths with flowery words!”

Commander Treyton remained calm—he had expected such behavior.

“Our apologies, Samuel,” he said evenly.

“Hmph.”

“Everyone, let us proceed with the meeting, shall we?”

The room quieted.

“This gathering was proposed by the Three States Alliance. However, the Holy Father and His Majesty King Clemencia have also given their approval. Naturally, all those present here have also agreed—whether officially or tacitly.”

“Stop stating the obvious,” Samuel said, arms crossed. “Get to the point.”

Though irritated by the pirate’s tone, none of the leaders objected. Seeing Treyton’s composure, they chose to stay silent.

It was remarkable how the Commander kept calm even in the face of such disrespect.

“Twisted by malice, the demons walk a path of ruin. The Church must be the beacon that guides them back to the light. The Temple of the Sun God believes it is time for believers to confront this plague tormenting our lands.”

“Guide them back to the light? The demons? That in your holy books too?” Samuel mocked.

Commander Treyton ignored him.

“Although the portal to the Demon Realm opened in the Cattlewood Plains, the demons that emerged scattered across the continent—including into the Kingdom of Steelwall.”

Though their numbers were small, their very presence was a grave threat.

“That’s right,” said Marquis Randgrith. “Even Rivermouth suffered attacks—especially from the flying ones.”

“Ah, those things,” said Duke Hara. “I saw them myself. My soldiers managed to capture a few alive.”

“The Principality has been fortunate,” said Prime Minister Alegra. “We haven’t been attacked yet. But we acknowledge the demons’ existence—and their threat.”

“That’s probably because the Principality is in the far north,” said King Clemencia. “It’s impressive you were able to attend this meeting, Prime Minister.”

“I came as soon as I received the message,” Alegra said with a smile. “How could I miss something this historic?”

For this event, even leaders who were usually at each other’s throats had set aside their differences.

“Hmph! Isn’t the monster living in the Principality capable of hearing conversations from far away?” said Snake-mouth Samuel. “You could probably stay in that damn forsaken place and still know everything that transpired in this meeting.”

Prime Minister Alegra glared at Samuel. “I don’t care if you disparage me, but don’t you dare insult the Voiceless One of the Principality.”

Samuel grinned, showing a set of golden teeth. “It’s true though. I’m simply calling the bastard for what he truly is. A. Monster.”

“You—!”

“That’s enough,” said Commander Treyton firmly. “Samuel. This is your final warning. If you cannot cooperate, I’ll ask you to leave.”

Samuel shrugged, unbothered.

Despite the tension, Commander Treyton steered the discussion forward.

“As I was saying—the demon threat is real. I believe everyone here acknowledges this.”

Everyone nodded. Even Samuel snorted in reluctant agreement.

With Commander Treyton as facilitator, the group began a deeper discussion: the demons’ characteristics, types, numbers, strength, and where they had been sighted.

They also discussed the deaths of key figures in the last war—and of course, the Coalition Army and its enigmatic leader, Lark Marcus.

“Even Harris Mavis fell while defending Meredith City,” said King Clemencia. “He was one of the few men in the Empire I respected. Such a tragic end.”

“Not just him,” said Marquis Gorgo. “Sword Saint Isaac also perished.”

“Sylvius lost his greatest sword right after losing his greatest mage,” Duke Hara sneered. “How pathetic.”

Though they didn’t show it openly, many in the room were secretly pleased by those deaths.

Harris Mavis and Isaac were superhumans—each capable of turning the tide of war alone.

Their loss spoke volumes of the demons’ threat.

“It’s the Empire today,” said Prime Minister Alegra. “But who’s next? God forbid the demons show up on our doorsteps tomorrow. The thought alone gives me shivers.”

A grim silence followed.

If even the Great Empire had fallen into chaos, what hope did the others have?

“Prime Minister Alegra,” said King Clemencia, “you’re in direct contact with the Council of Scholars, correct? Regarding the United Grakas Alliance… is it true that Lark Marcus went there himself to repel the demon army?”

The Council had eyes and ears across the continent.

Despite the United Grakas Alliance’s distance, their network kept them informed.

“It’s true,” Alegra said.

The room fell silent. The tension was palpable.

“Lark Marcus personally arrived in the Iron Mountains and slaughtered the demons there. According to our reports, his spell flattened the mountain itself.”

Deafening silence.

They could hardly believe what they’d just heard.

Could a human even perform such a feat?