Chapter 215

Chapter 215

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 215 Night of the Festival (10)

A black curtain descended.

Zzzzzz...

Vikir fidgeted with the ring, creating a barrier.

Creating the barrier consumed a significant amount of energy, but it was undoubtedly worth it.

Two spaces overlapped at the same coordinates, yet they were clearly distinct concepts and could not interfere with each other.

It would be useful when needing to store many items or hide one’s identity in a crowded place, engaging in a significant battle while remaining unnoticed.

Vikir gazes into the space within the barrier.

An empty abyss. A desolate and vast wasteland.

Countless swords stuck into the ground, weathered by the storms of time, aging and decaying.

Other than that, only shattered and destroyed statues rolled around.

“...”

Vikir instinctively senses something beyond the land filled with countless swords, two towering statues rising high in the center of the abyss.

One is the statue of Hugo le Baskerville, and the other is the statue of Osiris le Baskerville.

They were enormous compared to the other blasphemous statues, resilient despite being damaged here and there.

Below them were many small, broken statues, quite familiar faces.

Servants of Baskerville, the butler, caretaker, and guardian knights... intermittently, some larger statues that seem to be the Seven Counts were also visible;

Vikir instinctively sensed something,

‘Is this the heart of Seth le Baskerville?’

If this guess is correct, what psychological state was Seth in before the demon stole his heart?

What did he see, hear, think, and live in a world where everything exists?

Even after the owner’s death, the statues of his father and brother still stood tall in the emptied space.

Vikir recalled the battle with Andromalius.

“...Son, what are you doing there?”

“Ah, Father! Did you come here for some business...?!”

Andromalius froze just by looking at Hugo; it was because Seth, the original owner of the body, was possessed by residual thoughts.

Disappointing his father’s expectations, feelings of inferiority towards his brother, and intense self-loathing destroyed all relationships with those around him.

And only emptiness and darkness, devoid of anything, led him to the deepest part of his heart.Reead latest chapters at novelhall.com

Seth probably heard Andromalius’ voice from the deepest part of this desolate space.

At the most pitiful and desperate moment in this world.

‘Well, those who make contracts with demons are usually like that. They come when a person’s heart completely crumbles.’

The collapse of the mind signifies the abandonment of life.

Unlike the lower demons who contract through momentary pleasures or emotions like greed, high-ranking demons, such as demon lords, only visit in those moments.

The moment when someone once noble falls dramatically, experiencing overwhelming temptation and an irresistible proposal.

Now, before Vikir’s eyes, the Corpse Queen has revealed herself, probably in a similar situation.

[...Is this within the barrier of the Tenth Corpse?]

The Corpse Queen raised her head, looking at Vikir.

Vikir, too, looked at the Corpse Queen through the eye holes of his mask.

The skeletal woman behind the mask probably has a story as well.

Perhaps unimaginable pain, sorrow, and screams led her to accept the demon’s proposal after struggling in the end.

‘...But there are no excuses in a bottomless grave.’

Whether the Corpse Queen has a story or why she replaced Snake Morg for the position of the Eighth Corpse is unknown.

For Vikir, she was nothing more than the absolute evil who had killed countless comrades before regressing.

“Let’s finish this, demon.”

If it had been the Eighth corpse who had taken Snake Morg’s body, the battle would have been much more challenging. However, the current Corpse Queen has not yet reached that level. While her magical talent and potential rivaled Snake, if not also surpassed him, her current position as the Eighth corpse hadn’t fully developed.

It was Instinct.

The intuition of a seasoned hunting dog that had traversed countless battlefields guided the trajectory of the blade slightly off course at the last moment.

In the end, Vikir struck around the forehead of the Corpse Queen, and it bounced off the sturdy part of the skull mask.

Thunk!

It was as if hitting a solid object.

...Clang!

A piece of metal was embedded in the corner of the skull mask.

“...?”

Vikir landed on the ground and tilted his head in confusion.

Even he didn’t understand why he had just changed the trajectory of the knife.

‘What is this? Have I ever made such a mistake before?’

Confidently, no. Not even once. Throughout his pre- and post-regression life, this was an unprecedented mistake in the countless situations he had faced.

However.

A faint tremor ran through the demonic sword Beelzebub.

This was not a physical issue but a mental one. The movement of the heart.

As he became a peak Graduator, His emotions which he killed, or rather, thought he had killed, felt faintly alive and wavering.

‘What on earth...’

Night Hound wrinkled his forehead slightly at a situation he had never experienced before.

However, in contrast, the Corpse Queen remained unperturbed.

Her voice was firm, as if she had a certain conviction.

[I cannot remove the mask.]

“...”

[This is a contractual requirement. I am unable to reveal my face or name of my own volition.]

“...?”

[So, you have to reveal your identity.]

“...!”

The Corpse Queen’s words ended with a thin tremor, as if she had cried out, shouted too loudly, and exerted herself too much. So, a voice that had completely exhaled.

But the moist voice that lingered at the end... for just a moment resembled the voice from his past.

“...No way.”

Vikir paused for a moment.

And seeing Vikir hesitate, the Corpse Queen shouted again.

[So show your face! Tell me your name!]

At the same time, a hot flame spewed out from the Corpse Queen’s hand.

Hellfire burning black, and even the iron thorns popping out between the hot flames.

In front of the scorching heat created by the fire and iron thorns, Vikir hastily raised his sword.

The fangs bursting out of the Baskerville tore apart both flames and iron thorns without mercy.

And it directly pierced the defenseless Corpse Queen.

...Thunk! Sizzle!

Cracks appeared in her skull mask.

Eventually, bone fragments slowly scattered.

Time flowed slowly.

The pieces of the mask scattered, and fragments of memory fell into place.

In the distant memories between numerous shards and distortions, the face of a little girl’s innocence floated above the unconscious surface.

‘No! Vikir! Please come back!’

The voice heard last.

A face from a long time ago was present here.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]