[Translator - Clara]
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Chapter 483: The Marquis of Discord (1)
A palace spanning approximately 5 square kilometers.
This imperial palace, the largest and tallest structure in human history. It was the result of over 14 years of labor by more than 100,000 mages and over a million workers.
Comprising six palace complexes, the centerpiece was the King’s Hall, which truly epitomizes architectural beauty.
A magnificent, grand, and noble place.
Though it was originally meant for the Emperor, the current First Crown Prince resided here.
And now, against the backdrop of a raging storm, a hunting dog stood before the King's Hall, drenched from head to toe.
Vikir.
A veteran of countless near-death experiences, Vikir looked up at the plaque of the King's Hall with a bitter expression.
Once, he had been blindly loyal to this place, serving an ultimate master—a figure so revered that even Hugo respected him deeply.
But now, it was nothing more than a devil's playground.
Crash!
Vikir smashed through the massive front gate without hesitation.
In the past, this would have been a capital offense, but now, there was no one left to enforce such laws.
The desolate palace was like a no-man's land, long abandoned.
Vikir walked through the chilly central hall and headed straight inside.
Soon, he saw the Emperor's throne.
Atop a ghostly staircase, one person sat on the throne, looking down at Vikir.
Red hair, skin pale to the point of being ghostly. Cold, sharp eyes and a high, pointed nose.
It was the First Crown Prince of the Empire, Golding Jack Meridieu.
Unexpectedly, he smiled brightly at Vikir and waved his hand.
"Ah, you must be tired from your long journey. It's been a tough road, hasn't it, demon hunter?"
His casual tone contrasted sharply with the gravity of his words.
Vikir did not respond, but Crown Prince Meridieu continued speaking cheerfully.
"I'm sorry I can't offer you a cup of tea after you came all this way. Everyone's dead, you see. I'm the only one left in this vast palace. It's quite lonely, really."
"......"
"It's the first time we're meeting in person, right? I think I sent you a commendation a few times. Wasn't it when you saved the daughter of the Morg Clan from the Red and Black Mountains?"
"......"
"What was her name again? Camus? Yes, that's it, Camus. She had a beautiful face and an amazing figure. Quite skilled, too, for a woman. I was smitten at first sight and even proposed a few times, but she turned me down. Said she already had someone in mind. Makes me a bit jealous, doesn't it?"
"......"
"Oh, I got sidetracked. Anyway, I thought you were dead at that time. Of course, you returned alive and well, but still. And when was the next time? Was it when you wrote that paper on the slaughter ants at Colosseo Academy?"
"......"
"Ha, I wanted to meet you in person back then, but you turned me down again. I guess you were undercover at the time, right? I even considered going to Colosseo Academy to confirm it, but I got so busy that I forgot. I should have forced a meeting back then, don’t you think?"
As the Crown Prince continued his chatter, Vikir raised his hand, cutting him off.
Thunk.
Vikir pulled the chains, placing the coffin on the ground.
The Crown Prince grinned as he looked at the coffin Vikir had brought.
"What's that coffin for? Planning to lie in it yourself? Here to face death, are you? That's quite old-fashioned of you. You’re a bit traditional for your age."
"I'm here to end the war."
At Vikir's words, the Crown Prince pouted playfully.
"End the war? Ah, you mean the civil war? Why does everyone keep looking for that missing brother of mine?"
"......"
"Yes, I’ve heard about the Reviadon incident. Unfortunate, really. But the Second Prince, backed by the other factions, has been missing for a long time now. There's only one legitimate heir left—me. So, who else could become the Emperor?"
"......"
"Wouldn't it be better if you joined me instead? It’s better to be a founding hero than the leader of rebels. Don’t you think the stigma of being a usurper is too much?"
The Crown Prince’s words were strange, eerily detached from reality.
All descendants of the imperial Clan, who inherited the blood of the first Emperor—a prophet and astrologer—possessed such peculiar abilities.
"Indeed, I remember Hohenheim from the Mage Tower mentioning this during the university league."
So, the Crown Prince’s words might not be a lie after all.
As Vikir pondered this, he thought:
"...He is quite the interesting person."
A strange voice whispered past Vikir’s ears, a voice he had heard a few times before. It triggered memories of his life before regression, and as Vikir listened to the eerie echo, the Crown Prince's expression rapidly changed.
[Yes, the blood of the first emperor boils within you. Oh—once again, I see it. The future of my brother, who met such a miserable end!]
"......"
[I can sense it. You are undoubtedly connected to my brother. Who is it? Where is he? Just tell me.]
The Crown Prince asked again, but Vikir remained silent.
"Why should I answer your questions? What is it that you truly desire?"
[Foolish. Why would a brother need a reason to search for his sibling?]
"Don't play games with me. I already know that your body isn’t normal."
Vikir's retort caused the Crown Prince to sigh deeply.
[You're right. My body is divided. Reuniting those parts is my ultimate goal.]
"......"
[Of course, I didn’t expect you to cooperate willingly. That's why I’ve prepared a reward for your cooperation.]
The Crown Prince finally spoke.
[Having seen the future, I know that your pre-regression self was connected to my brother's end. So all you need to do is tell me who my brother is and where he is.]
"......"
[In return, I’ll promise you one thing.]
Then, the Crown Prince presented a mirror before Vikir.
"......!"
Vikir's eyes widened.
Within the mirror was a world after the apocalypse.
The scorched earth was beginning to sprout greenery again. Rain was falling, and seas and rivers were reappearing. There were even people—few, but there—rebuilding their lives and spreading happiness, overcoming the horrors of the past.
Among them, Vikir recognized familiar faces—comrades who had crossed the abyss of despair with him.
The mirror showed the original world, the one Vikir had lived in before his regression.
The Crown Prince continued.
[After your death, the world managed to heal itself. The demons lost the final war, and humanity emerged victorious. Though the human world was devastated, the survivors are slowly reclaiming the land.]
"......"
[But it's not an easy task. Too many heroes died in the Demon War, and there aren’t many left who can wield mana. They need a powerful hero who can command mana.]
People, rebuilding their happiness after the age of destruction—if Vikir could return to the original world, he could make a significant contribution to humanity’s survival.
[Just tell me who my brother is and where he is now. In return, I’ll send you back to your original world, where you can reunite with the people you long for. I could even revive some of them, if you wish. Reviving the entire human race is beyond my power, but this much is within reach.]
It was a shocking offer.
But.
“I refuse.”
Vikir rejected the Crown Prince's deal without hesitation.
Before the Crown Prince could even express his surprise, Vikir continued.
“I know you don't have that kind of power. ‘Andras,’ the Marquis of Discord.”
And with those words.
[...Impressive.]
The corner of the Crown Prince's mouth twisted into a smirk.
And then.
Crackle!
A dark flame engulfed the Crown Prince’s entire body.
The human skin burned away, revealing the grotesque evil hiding beneath.
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Lucky ]