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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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Chapter 118 - The Kingdom (5)
A chill hung in the air.
The chaotic tension from earlier had faded into an ominous silence, leaving only the Sovereign and the Serpent locked in a quiet standoff.
Two thrones—one black, one white—stood in stark contrast, a visual divide between light and shadow.
Neither of us spoke.
The old man was the first to break the silence.
"Doesn’t this remind you of the past?"
His gaze sank into the depths of memory.
His aged voice murmured as if recalling a distant moment.
"We stood like this before, staring each other down… on the day you brought my kingdom to ruin."
Perhaps, to him, this moment overlapped with that day.
As he spoke, faded memories flickered across my vision as well.
A winter’s day, colder than most.
The Sovereign let out a small smile.
"Three years already."
"…"
"Strange, isn’t it? Sometimes, I find myself missing those days."
"Let’s not waste time. Get to the point."
"How cold."
I didn’t lower my guard.
The old man might have been smiling, playing the part of an affable elder, but beneath that facade slithered a nest of venomous serpents.
This was the ruler of the underworld.
And more than that—he was the only person in the past four years who had come close to killing me.
It was only natural that my instincts remained razor-sharp.
My gaze turned ice-cold.
"I’ve had enough of your silver tongue."
"A snake complaining about deceit? How ironic."
"Sometimes, people can be more snake-like than snakes themselves."
He wouldn’t deny it.
After all, he was the one who had taught me that lesson.
I exhaled quietly.
"Let’s get to the main topic already."
"If that’s what you want."
The old man gave a casual shrug.
Then, after a brief pause, he spoke again—this time, his tone carrying more weight.
"The Empire’s atmosphere has been… unsettling lately."
"Be more specific."
"It’s like the stillness before a storm. On the surface, everything seems peaceful… but something disastrous is coming."
"So, a major event is on the horizon."
"I’ve already caught wind of several signs."
"Signs?"
Now, this was worth listening to.
The timeline was already aligning with the major events of the original story.
Like it or not, the continent was on the verge of a violent upheaval.
Even if I remembered most of what was supposed to happen, my past interference had altered too many things.
I could no longer be certain of the future.
I leaned in slightly.
"Go on."
The old man nodded.
"The first party you need to keep an eye on… is the Merchant."
[“Businessman” changed to “Merchant”]
The Merchant.
One of the original story’s most infamous villains.
According to records, he was one of the wealthiest figures on the continent—an immensely powerful tycoon who used his vast fortune to fund all manner of vile schemes.
For the fox, who had lost her master and everything else, he was also a target of revenge.
"His movements have been… unusual lately."
"That’s unexpected."
The Merchant had remained relatively quiet until now.
Aside from an attempt to forge an alliance with the Sovereign a few months ago—one that I had personally sabotaged—he had made no notable moves.
As far as I remembered, that incident had caused a permanent rift between the two.
The Sovereign’s gaze darkened.
"It seems he’s aligned himself with the Cult."
"Baob?"
"Who else?"
"That’s strange. Their interests don’t align. The Merchant rejected their offers multiple times, didn’t he?"
"He refused, claiming he had no desire to get involved in such… ‘messy affairs.’"
"So why change his mind now?"
"He must have felt the fire creeping up behind him."
The old man pointed a finger at me.
"Thanks to your meddling, his business has completely collapsed."
"Meddling… You mean the incident a few months ago?"
"That’s right."
"That shipment was supposed to be for him, wasn’t it?"
"Indeed. The deal was straightforward—he would provide funding, and in return, he wanted access to the Kingdom’s drug cartel."
"Naturally, you would have accepted."
"Why wouldn’t I? It was an easy profit. We were set to receive top-grade slaves, mountains of narcotics, and countless luxury goods as an advance payment. He must have strained himself to prepare that much. The ship was practically overflowing."
"And I took that ship for myself."
"Exactly."
At last, the pieces were falling into place.
At the time, I had found it excessive—the sheer scale of the operation, the presence of elite enforcers, and even Ignorance himself standing by.
But knowing now that this was an investment worth that much… it all made sense.
The old man chuckled.
"Heh… No one expected you to hijack the entire ship."
"It looked useful."
"Because of that, the Merchant is furious with us. He still doesn’t know you were involved."
"He probably assumes it was either Unknown or you betraying him."
"I have no shortage of enemies, so it makes little difference to me… But tell me, where did you stash all that cargo?"
"It belongs to me now."
"Naturally."
The old man nodded, seemingly unfazed.
I took a moment to summarize the conversation before addressing the real issue at hand.
"From the Merchant’s perspective, this was a critical loss. He needed to recover, and the Cult happened to provide the perfect opportunity."
"He was always an ambitious one."
"The Cult must have made their offer at just the right time."
"Those rats are annoyingly perceptive, aren’t they?"
"Up until now, this has all been speculation. Do you have actual proof of their alliance?"
"I figured you’d ask that."
"I don’t trust your kind without evidence."
"Heh… Then take this."
—Thud.
A sealed envelope dropped into my lap from thin air.
Tightly secured.
I tore it open.
Inside were encrypted documents—ledgers detailing the Merchant’s financial movements, records of recent warlock activities, and other crucial information.
The Sovereign tilted his chin.
"If you go through it all, you’ll see how I reached my conclusion."
"I’ll review it later."
I tossed the files into the shadows.
The mist around me swirled, swallowing them into a pocket of space before vanishing.
The old man, watching, smoothly continued.
"Then… let’s move on to the next matter."
The discussion stretched on for hours.
Despite the limited time, I managed to obtain a wealth of valuable information.
For example—
The Vanity Ducal House had been acting suspiciously.
The Church had begun taking notice of the Cult’s growing presence.
And… there was a possibility of a traitor within the academy.
During a pursuit of warlocks, traces of an internal leak had been discovered.
I listened carefully.
By the time the conversation came to an end, I had secured several more documents and stored them away.
The old man smirked.
"Well? Was this helpful?"
I couldn’t deny it.
I didn’t particularly appreciate the smug look on his face, but I wasn’t about to be petty over something so trivial.
I nodded.
"It was."
"Good to hear."
"But from now on, stay out of sight. If you need to talk, do it directly."
"You’re the only one who treats me this coldly."
"You won’t get a second warning."
"And if I ignore it?"
"I’ll have to kill you."
"You won’t."
The Sovereign chuckled.
His aged lips curled into a knowing smile.
Because—
"After all…"
It was the laughter of an old man who had long played this game.
"I’m still someone you need."
A piece too useful to discard.
And that was why he still lived.
This world assigned value to every life.
And in this moment, the Serpent and the Sovereign calculated each other’s worth.
—This was a transaction.
At the moment the war, drenched in blood and carnage, finally came to an end—
I chose not to kill him.
Instead, I assigned him a role.
The Kingdom’s vast drug cartel, its influence reaching every corner of the continent, its military force rivaling that of a nation—
I commanded him to use that power to maintain order in the Empire’s underworld.
The Cult had been spreading across the continent like wildfire.
And for the past four years, the only reason their expansion had been contained… was because of the Sovereign.
His existence alone had unified the shadows.
"A piece too valuable to discard, wouldn’t you say?"
"…"
This—this was what made him unbearable.
The old man had a way of twisting thoughts, of clouding judgment.
Conversations with him were always precarious.
But.
"I’ll be taking my leave now."
I wouldn’t let myself be swayed.
I had been through too much to let mere words shake me.
My mind remained cold, utterly unaffected.
As I rose from my seat, I heard him click his tongue lightly, as if in disappointment.
And yet, a satisfied smile lingered on his lips.
"You’re not even going to respond?"
"I’ve endured this game long enough. At this point, reacting would be more foolish, don’t you think?"
"Heh… That’s precisely what makes you so entertaining."
"Take my warning to heart."
"A warning, you say? I’d never ignore such a thing. I’ll be sure to pass it along to my subordinates as well."
"I hope our next meeting is under more peaceful circumstances."
"Let’s hope for that."
Just as I turned to leave—
A casual question struck my ears, as if it had just occurred to him.
A question of someone’s well-being.
"Ah, that reminds me… How is she doing?"
I stopped.
My body reacted before my mind could catch up.
A reflexive pause.
The old man carried on, as unfazed as ever.
"Neria, I mean."
"…"
"I wonder how she’s been, after betraying her master and running off."
"You’d do well to watch your mouth."
"Or what? Will you kill me?"
"Don’t overstep your bounds, tool."
My voice dropped.
"I only left you alive because dealing with you was a hassle. But make no mistake—I can end you at any moment."
"Such a sensitive reaction over a simple question."
"Heh."
Simple, he said.
If he truly remembered what he had done to her, he wouldn’t be surprised by my cold response.
Our gazes locked, ice against ice.
"Was it the name that bothered you? Then perhaps I should call her something else."
"I warned you—"
"Disloyal."
"…"
The weight of that name shattered the silence.
For the briefest moment, time seemed to rewind—
Back to the cruelest winter of them all, four years ago.
The name he had uttered clung to my mind like a scar.
‘One who did not submit—Disloyal.’
The last member of the Sovereign’s personal guard.
And the one who had finally broken free from his chains.
The girl whom I had saved with my own hands.
Neria Lightney.
The girl once called Disloyal by the ghosts of her past.
Until the day she met me, she had been forced to survive in this wretched world, shackled by fate.
I let go.
The killing intent I had been holding back flooded the room.
The air grew suffocating, crushed beneath its weight.
I spoke in a quiet murmur—one laced with nothing but raw, unfiltered malice.
"Don’t call my Vice-Commander by that name."
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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