CHAPTER 82: A MOST SUSPICIOUS INVITATION

My name is Ragnar Vhagar.

And for the first time in my new, un-dead life, I was bringing home a stray.

The trip back to the Crystal Spire was a study in profound, awkward silence.

My elite team, composed of a former hero and a legendary elf, walked with the grim efficiency of seasoned killers.

And trailing about ten feet behind us, trying very hard to look menacing and failing spectacularly, was Kevin.

"So," I said, not breaking my stride. "You sure you don’t want to go back to being Darkness Dracul the Third? It had a certain... brand recognition."

Kevin, the self-proclaimed Prince of Eternal Night and Sorrows, flinched.

His ridiculously oversized scythe was slung over his shoulder, and his velvet curtain cape kept getting caught on stray rocks.

"I think... I think Kevin is fine for now, my Lord," he stammered.

Chloe, my ever-loyal shadow, gave him a look so cold it probably lowered the ambient temperature by five degrees.

She clearly thought he was a waste of perfectly good oxygen, which, to be fair, was an accurate assessment.

Isabelle, my stoic commander, simply looked ahead, her expression unreadable.

She was probably calculating the most efficient way to use Kevin as a human shield, a thought I heartily endorsed.

We finally reached the shimmering entrance to my Domain.

The moment we stepped inside, the oppressive, low-level pain of the filtered sunlight vanished from my skin.

I took a deep breath of the cool, familiar air. It was good to be home.

My home defense force, a squad of hulking Orcs, snapped to attention as we entered.

Their eyes widened as they saw Kevin.

One of them nudged the other and grunted something that sounded suspiciously like, "Look, a sad, floppy-haired bat."

"Ahem," I cleared my throat loudly. "This is Kevin. He is our new... intern. Show him to the guest quarters in the library section. The one with the leaky ceiling and the slightly haunted-looking bookshelf. He’ll feel right at home."

Kevin looked like he was about to protest, then caught Chloe’s glare and wisely shut his mouth.

He was escorted away by two Orcs who were clearly trying, and failing, to hold back laughter.

"A sound acquisition, my Lord?" Isabelle asked.

"He was on sale," I said with a shrug. "And he came with a free, albeit terrible, domain. Now, to business."

I gathered my core advisors in the main throne room of the Crystal Spire.

Isabelle, Chloe, Pixia.

"The conquest of Kevin the Chuunibyou was a resounding success," I began, gesturing to the holographic map of the city. "His pathetic territory is now ours. But it’s a sideshow. The main event is still the Noto Peninsula."

I pointed to the cluster of small, weak-looking red dots to the north.

"It’s a land of opportunity, filled with low-level Demon Kings ripe for the plucking. We will sweep through them, absorb their territories, and solidify our power base before any of the real players in the other prefectures notice us."

"A sound and aggressive strategy, my Lord," Isabelle said with a nod. "But our forces are still recovering from the war with Alyssa. We are stretched thin."

[Chloe]

"Rushing in is the gambler’s folly, Lord Ragnar," he said, setting his cup down with a soft click. "You assume these northern kings are all as foolish as your new intern."

"They’re all C-Rank or lower, Yori," I countered. "Their domains are tiny. This will be a cakewalk."

"Perhaps," he said, his eyes twinkling with a wisdom that I found both useful and deeply irritating. "But a cornered rat can still bite. And you never know when one of them might have gotten lucky with the gacha."

His words hit a little too close to home.

He was right.

His own Umbra was proof that even the weakest-looking player could be hiding an SSS-rank unit.

I was about to formulate a new, more cautious plan, when Pixia suddenly let out a high-pitched squeak.

"My Lord! An anomaly! I have detected an anomaly!"

She zipped in front of my face, her tiny holographic screen flickering with a chaotic jumble of symbols.

"I was running my standard passive data sweep of the human information networks, specifically their public forums and message boards, when I found this," she said, projecting the image onto the main map table.

The message was hidden deep within a thread about the best way to polish hero-grade armor.

It was a string of numbers and what looked like random punctuation marks.

9-14-22-9-20-5. {~S.O.S~}

"It’s code," Isabelle said instantly, her commander’s mind kicking into gear. "A simple substitution cipher. A=1, B=2, and so on."

"Give the woman a prize," I said, already doing the math in my head.

Nine was ’I’.

Fourteen was ’N’.

Twenty-two was ’V’.

"Invite," I whispered, the word tasting strange. "And S.O.S. Someone is sending out an invitation and a distress call at the same time."

Chloe took a step forward, her hand resting on the hilt of one of her dark blades.

"A trap, my Lord," she stated, her voice flat and cold. "A lure to draw out the ambitious or the foolish."

"Or," I countered, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across my face, "it’s something far more interesting."

"What do you mean, my Lord?" Pixia asked, her wings a blur of nervous energy.

"Think about it," I explained, my mind racing, connecting the dots. "Who would post this on a human forum? Not a human. The code is too simple. It’s meant to be found, but only by someone looking for it."

I looked at the cryptic message, at the desperate little {~S.O.S~} at the end.

This wasn’t just a random Demon King.

This was an organized one.

Someone was trying to build a network. An alliance. A secret society of monsters and kings.

And whether they were friend or foe, ally or trap... I had to know more.

This was an invitation I couldn’t possibly refuse.