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[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 16
Chris spoke in a calm tone.
"I'll say it again. I intend to make the Dark Demonic House submit beneath my feet."
"!!"
Count Khazar was taken aback by the sudden declaration.
"W-What are you talking about…?"
"You still don't understand? It doesn’t seem like a difficult concept. I'm saying that I, Christian, will become the master of the Dark Demonic House."
Count Khazar stared at him with eyes that looked like they were about to tear apart.
'He's that shocked? If he heard my real goal, he'd probably faint on the spot.'
Seizing control of the Dark Demonic House was merely the first step.
His true goal was to reach the pinnacle of the demonic world.
To become a Demon King.
'And not just any Demon King—I have to rise to the highest ranks. Only then can I prevent Ragnarok.'
In the Magus Empire, there wasn’t just one Demon King.
At the top of the hierarchy stood the Demon Emperor, followed by multiple Demon Kings ranked beneath him.
For reference, the "Blood-Drenched Demon King" who triggered Ragnarok was ranked fourth among the Demon Kings.
That meant Chris had to become at least a top-three Demon King.
'If I achieve that, I’ll be able to enjoy wealth and power at their peak.'
At that moment, Count Khazar slowly opened his mouth.
"Do you really think… you can become the master of the Dark Demonic House? We are merely a branch family."
"I was under the impression that even branch families can claim succession rights as long as they have the ability."
"That’s just a rule that exists in name only. And more importantly, aren't you the weakest among your peers?"
He was aware that his son had changed.
But the years of debauchery he had wasted away wouldn’t simply vanish.
While Christian had squandered his time in indulgence, the other young pillars of the main house had soared to greater heights.
Among them, the one who had risen the highest was Ashid.
"Being behind can always be corrected by catching up. Let me ask you one thing—why do you think Ashid tried to frame me?"
"……."
Count Khazar fell silent for a moment.
It was certainly a puzzling matter.
Ashid was far superior to Christian in every way, so why go to such lengths?
"…I don’t know for certain. But I can make a guess. It must be because of your talent."
"Yes, that’s exactly it."
Chris nodded.
"He was jealous of my talent, which surpassed his own."
Ashid had always been praised as the most gifted among the younger generation of the Dark Demonic House.
That was, until Christian was born.
The title of the greatest prodigy had shifted to Christian.
Jealousy had driven Ashid to try to destroy him.
'Thinking about it, what a ridiculous guy. He did all this over something so petty? And there's almost a ten-year age gap between us?'
Ashid was in his mid-twenties. He had targeted his much younger cousin, who was nearly ten years his junior, out of envy.
Regardless, before he had fallen, Christian had indeed been called a genius.
And the one who now resided within Chris’s body possessed a talent far beyond comparison—even greater than that of Christian, who had once been called a genius.
"I am superior to them. Overwhelmingly so."
He had never personally met or compared himself to the young heirs of the Dark Demonic House, but he knew it to be true.
During the Ragnarok that would take place in the future, there had been no one in the Dark Demonic House whose talent could rival his.
No, not even within the entirety of the Magus Empire.
It was no coincidence that the Hero had once said that if Chris had learned swordsmanship or magic, the outcome of the war would have changed.
"Though I may be behind for now, in the end, I will stand at the highest peak—so far above them that they won’t even dare to look me in the eye."
Those young heirs were not his goal. In truth, he didn’t even consider them worth his attention.
His goal was to stand at the pinnacle of the Magus Empire.
Hearing such arrogant words from Chris, Count Khazar swallowed a groan.
'Just what…?'
It was an utterly impossible claim.
And yet, what were those unwavering eyes?
It was not the gaze of someone simply expressing their will to achieve something.
It was the gaze of someone who saw it as an absolute certainty.
'Should I see this as confidence, or should I dismiss it as delusional madness?'
Without a doubt, it had to be delusion.
It was a ridiculously absurd statement.
But was it because he was Chris’s father?
Or was it because of the unshakable resolve in Chris’s eyes?
Perhaps it was due to the astonishing changes Chris had shown recently.
For a fleeting moment, the thought crossed Count Khazar’s mind—Chris’s words might not be mere delusion after all.
"In that regard, Father, I have a request to make."
"A request?"
"Yes. Do you remember when I said I would ask for one favor once I shed my past as a wastrel?"
Chris spoke.
"Please use your authority to recommend me as a participant in the Holy Black Ceremony two months from now."
"!!"
Count Khazar’s face showed clear shock.
"The Holy Black Ceremony? But that’s…!"
The Holy Black Ceremony.
A ritual where the bloodline of the Dark Demonic House received the blessing of their unique power, Dark Demonic Energy.
However, it was not simply a ritual of blessings. The participants had to compete against one another, and in accordance with the strict law of survival of the fittest, those who proved superior received a greater blessing.
The stronger one was compared to their rivals, the greater the blessing they would receive. Conversely, those who fell behind would receive nothing at all.
'Furthermore, it is the most important event in selecting a proper heir.'
Chris contemplated in silence.
Prince.
A title granted to the official candidates for succession in prestigious demonic noble families.
Only those who demonstrated overwhelming ability during the blessing ritual could obtain the title of Prince.
"I carry the blood of the Dark Demonic House as well. Doesn’t that mean I have the right to participate?"
"By bloodline alone, yes. But you understand, don’t you?"
Count Khazar shook his head firmly.
"To participate in the Holy Black Ceremony, one must have reached Two-Star mastery of magic power."
This was because the ability to wield Dark Demonic Energy only became possible from the Two-Star level onward.
That was why the Holy Black Ceremony was held once every three years, with direct and branch descendants who had reached Two-Star participating each time.
"It’s impossible for you to take part in this ceremony when you’ve only just reached One-Star. You will have no choice but to wait for the next one in three years."
That was the natural conclusion.
Advancing from One-Star to Two-Star took at least three years at best—more commonly, it took over five years.
Without talent, it could take even longer.
Since the bloodline of the Dark Demonic House was exceptionally gifted, most of its descendants reached Two-Star around the age of fifteen.
"I can’t afford to wait three years."
"But there’s no other choice, is there?"
"No, there is a way. If I reach Two-Star within the next two months, I can participate."
"!!"
Count Khazar’s eyes widened in shock.
"What nonsense is this?"
Reaching Two-Star in just two months?
He had heard plenty of absurd claims from his son, but this was the most outrageous one yet.
"Even the former head of the house, who was considered one of the greatest geniuses in the history of the Dark Demonic House, took more than a year and a half to reach Two-Star. And you’re saying you’ll do it in two months? There’s a limit to how much nonsense I can entertain."
Count Khazar frowned as he spoke.
Chris understood his father’s reaction.
'Even the greatest genius of the Light Faction—the Hero—took more than a year to reach Two-Star.'
To be precise, it had taken just over a year, and the sheer speed of his advancement had caused an uproar at the time.
So reaching Two-Star in two months was indeed unheard of.
But Chris simply smirked.
"Would you care to watch me for a moment?"
Chris drew his sword.
"What are you trying to do?"
"Just observe. This is the Mud Sword Technique."
"…You’ve never learned the Mud Sword Technique, have you?"
The Mud Sword Technique was the signature swordsmanship of the Black Swamp Knights. Count Khazar had never allowed Christian, who had become a disgrace, to learn the secrets of the Black Swamp Knights.
"I’ve watched them in the training grounds. I have a rough idea of how it’s performed."
"What? That’s ridiculous—"
Count Khazar’s face twisted in disbelief.
"You’ll understand once you see. Just watch."
"…Fine."
Count Khazar nodded.
Christian assumed his stance and began executing the Mud Sword Technique.
And as Count Khazar watched, his eyes slowly widened in shock.
Before him, an unbelievable, impossible sight unfolded from Chris’s hands.
* * *
‘Following this basic swordsmanship isn’t difficult.’
As seen in Melin's case, the Black Swamp Knights are a order of sword mages.
An order that uses both swordsmanship and dark magic.
This applies not just to the Black Swamp Knights but to all of the Dark Demonic Houses.
Now, one question.
Why are the Black Swamp Knights called the Black Swamp Knights?
Because their tactic is to weaken and subdue their opponents through cursed dark magic, much like trapping them in a swamp.
Therefore, the swordsmanship they use is not focused on overwhelming power, but more on controlling or weakening the opponent.
The Mud Sword Technique is precisely a style of swordsmanship specialized in control.
Once you understand the core of the swordsmanship, copying it becomes much easier.
Swoosh!
From Chris’s hand, the first form, Earth Root, unfolds.
It was perfect.
Not just the swing of the sword, but the movement of his arms, the posture of his body, the motion of his feet, and even the flow of his magic power.
It wasn’t just the first form.
The second form, the third form, too.
A series of movements so flawless it was beyond belief.
‘H-how?’
As someone who had mastered the Mud Sword Technique, Count Khazar could recognize it immediately.
He could tell how accurate Chris’s movements were.
‘Did Vice Commander Melin teach him separately? No, knowing her personality, that wouldn’t be the case.’
Even if that were the case, it was still unbelievable.
How long had it been since Christian had freed himself from his previous wild ways?
Even if he had received 24-hour training, it would have been impossible for him to show that level of skill.
As he watched Count Khazar’s stunned expression, Chris inwardly smirked.
‘What’s all this fuss about? This is hardly difficult.’
It was just basic swordsmanship.
All he had to do was follow the movements he saw.
It was something that would enrage the knights who spent years of blood, sweat, and tears perfecting the Mud Sword Technique, but for Chris, it was an incredibly simple task.
So, Chris decided to further astonish Count Khazar.
‘It would be too boring if I just stop here.’
After finishing the demonstration of the Mud Sword Technique, Chris moved again.
And as Count Khazar watched the new display of the Mud Sword Technique, his eyes grew wider still.
‘Different? But…?’
What Chris had first shown was the first form, a low guard designed to control and bind the opponent’s legs.
But it was slightly different.
Faintly.
So subtle that someone who hadn’t mastered the Mud Sword Technique wouldn’t even recognize it.
The path of the sword was the same.
But the stance of his legs.
The twisting of his upper body was different.
And because of that, the movements of the sword became lighter, faster.
In perfect alignment with the Mud Sword Technique’s core of control.
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[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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