[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 325: To Concede

“You’re saying you swapped out the Dragon Heart?”

“That’s right. In the professional jargon of the underworld, you might call it ‘dealing from the bottom of the deck’.”

Georg asked in astonishment.

“But, when on earth did you…”

“Let’s see, was it 30 minutes ago?”

Geninghen said with a shrug.

“It was a last resort for me as well, so I wanted to put it off as long as possible.”

At that, the Head Butler, Aiden, bowed his head with an apologetic expression.

“My apologies, Your Grace. The situation was so urgent that I could not report it.”

Georg shook his head.

“Given the urgency, that is fine. More importantly, explain the details of the situation.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Aiden explained.

“Actually, Lord Geninghen spoke to me about it last night. He said that while we would fight with all our might, the Dark King’s power was unpredictable, so we had to prepare for the worst-case scenario.”

“…Hmph.”

“I am terribly sorry, but he said that if you knew, Your Grace, you might oppose the plan, and more importantly, that the fewer people who know a secret, the better.”

Venion agreed with that sentiment.

“That is true. It is the nature of intelligence.”

He had worked alongside Georg as the spymaster for decades. Georg knew this truth as well and did not reprimand him for it.

“If a matter is extremely urgent, it is right to act first and report later. I understand that point, so please continue.”

“Yes, Your Grace. So, this was a simple trick. We created an identical copy of the Dragon Heart and smuggled the real one away.”

“Where is the real one?”

“Olivier has it. He is hiding in the most secret emergency passage of the main castle.”

The Count showed a faint, doting smile, as if proud of his dependable nephew for accomplishing such a big task.

“What is most puzzling is how you managed to deceive the Dark King and Gulbark.”

“It wasn’t an easy task. The Clan Head has seen it himself during the succession ceremony, so you know that its extraordinary appearance, power, and strange aura are not things a mere mage can replicate as a prank.”

“But then how…”

“It’s me, Geninghen. I’m not a mere mage, I’m a great archmage.”

Geninghen explained with the characteristic laugh of a mischievous old man.

“Our own master craftsman of Grunewald lent his strength.”

“Ah!”

“Baldun is a craftsman who has reached the pinnacle of his art, even among the Dwarves. He and I joined forces a long time ago and succeeded in creating a perfect replica.”

Leszek, who had been listening quietly, added.

“It was seven years ago. Though we had failed for ten years before that.”

“Hah…”

“He is a man of few words. He kept the secret for all that long time.”

Come to think of it, Baldun was also a man known for being an eccentric, just like Geninghen.

“So, eccentrics have a way of understanding each other.”

Venion joked.

Geninghen clicked his tongue at Venion’s remark.

“Tch, you insolent whelp.”

“Hehehe.”

Venion laughed and said to the Duke.

“Your Grace, in any case, this is truly a stroke of heaven’s luck. Now that we have protected the Dragon Heart, the Dark King will only be able to achieve half of his goal.”

“Yes. And that blind spot will become our sharpest dagger for a counterattack.”

The Duke nodded.

“Every human has a ceiling they cannot surpass. To even approach that limit requires extreme training, real combat, and the ascetic practice of enlightenment, but…”

They knew very well who the clan’s sharpest blade was, one who might even rival the Dark King.

“If it’s Allen…”

“Yes. Now, we have no choice but to leave it to Allenvert.”

“It is a sorry thing to do to the child. We have no shame as adults.”

The three superhumans were of one mind.

“Venion.”

“Your command, Your Grace.”

Georg ordered.

“Contact Allen. Tell him that Lord Geninghen, Lord Leszek, and I will be coming to him.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

However, they could not have possibly imagined that the royal succession war had already ended in the victory of the 8th Prince and Grunewald, nor that Allenvert had already defeated Duke Montera and reached the 8th-tier.

My duel with Casimir took place in the middle of the destroyed royal castle, with all those who participated in this war as our witnesses.

The realm of the 8th-tier.

An endless insight, a sword that reached the very truth of things.

A domain where every swing becomes a new technique.

And the great mastery of the Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique and the Silent Night Soul-Soaking Divine Art.

The innate combat instincts of Karzan and the natural genius for the sword that even the Dark King had been wary of…

As a result of all these things combined, I had finally caught up to the vast difference between the very beginning and the middle stages of the 8th-tier.

“Ashen Celestial Dance.”

The ultimate technique I unleashed after reaching the 8th-tier was on a different level of power from when I had used it to annihilate Grimnar.

To receive it head-on would be a reckless and dangerous choice.

“Moon Dance, Lonely Wave Yearning Moon, Celestial Chain Breaker, Profound Radiant Heaven Rend, Soul-Slumbering Black Moon.”

I ostentatiously used a series of ultimate techniques of extraordinary power.

Now that my own level had reached the 8th-tier, it was nearly impossible for him to deny me an opening to use them, as Duke Montera had done.

‘But.’

Our levels were too high for the duel to be decided by these.

Therefore, after laying down a psychological foundation with these powerful ultimate techniques, I intended to decide the match in a simple way.

“Profound Radiant Heaven Rend.”

“Not a chance!”

Casimir’s sword cut through space as he dodged the high-powered technique fired into the air and descended.

I had foreseen it, so I had already stepped back a moment earlier and met his sword.

Zzzzzzzzzzap!

After stomping the ground and spreading lightning, I infused the power of Black Dark Ice with a Penetrating Force strike.

‘A crude little trick.’

But even a crude move is a poor choice not to respond to. Therefore, the moment Casimir’s internal mana circulated to counter the penetration…

“!”

…I used a technique from the Flowing Cloud Thunder Fist to break his stance and attacked.

“Ugh!”

Because it was a technique applied outside the realm of the sword, while Casimir was flustered by its unfamiliarity…

With this one move, I had gotten ahead by exactly one breath.

‘That’s enough.’

We exchanged several dozen more blows, as if playing chess.

‘But by getting ahead by a single breath, I can lead the flow, maintain it, and widen the gap.’

I had learned that this level of fighting also existed.

The result of that realization was…

CLAAAANG!

The sword I had struck with great force flew into the sky.

I immediately pointed the tip of my sword at Casimir’s neck and declared.

“My victory, Casimir.”

“…It is my defeat.”

Casimir squeezed his eyes shut and acknowledged his loss.

“I will keep my promise. Having lost in a one-on-one duel, I will rightly renounce my title.”

Casimir took a short knife and cut his own hair.

“…”

Why is he suddenly doing this?

I was taken aback by the sudden head-shaving, but I tactfully remained silent.

Casimir, who had quickly shaved his head, wrapped a cloth around it.

“From now on, I am merely a nameless person. I vow to live as a sword that will be used to atone for my clan’s sins and to defeat the Dark King.”

“…”

I looked at the face of this man who was being serious about something so unnecessary and nodded.

“Welcome.”

Nameless Buzzcut Swordsman Casimir, recruited.

The war was over.

“Brother, are you alright?”

The 8th Prince, who had broken through the siege to request reinforcements, had, along with the victors from Grunewald, brought this war to a victorious conclusion for their side.

“…You have endured much.”

The 1st Prince patted his younger brother’s shoulder, his face not showing much emotion.

“Your contribution was great.”

“The contributions of the two brothers from Grunewald were greater than mine.”

The 8th Prince said with humility.

But the 1st Prince had also learned the art of ruling.

He was not foolish enough to miss the hidden meaning in those words.

“Yes, I suppose we cannot ignore those two and Grunewald.”

The 8th Prince bowed his head as if in apology.

“Your role in having forged a deep friendship with them will be important.”

The 8th Prince showed no change in expression even at those pointed words.

“It is for the sake of the royal family, and for you, brother.”

“Is that so?”

He gazed intently at his younger brother.

Neither of them thought this was a display of pure brotherly love and loyalty.

“…”

He had the support of various factions and the symbolism of being the eldest son, but…

It was impossible to know who would receive more support in the future in a contest between the eldest son who had done nothing during the war, and the eighth son who had personally broken through a siege to bring reinforcements and participated directly in the war.

More importantly, the 1st Prince’s spirit had already been greatly broken after experiencing his inner demon.

Even his desire for power, his competitive spirit, was gone.

“And Lavinia?”

Instead, all that was left for him was hatred for the wife who had cheated on him.

“It will be as you wish, brother.”

He said resolutely.

“Execution.”

Even if he forgave everything else, he could not forgive her.

.

.

.

Barclava, Zizek, Zamuel, Ghir, and Jeffrey.

The five men, now idle wanderers after the end of the war, roamed around the royal capital.

“People are working, and merchants are selling goods even after the war.”

Jeffrey said, feeling a strange sense of emotion.

Zamuel nodded.

“On the contrary, they have to live even more fiercely. A soldier may seem like the entirety of a war, but in truth, are they not just a part of it?”

“Come to think of it, that’s true. Someone makes the weapons, someone produces the food, someone supplies it, someone is moved by the process, and someone makes money.”

Zizek said.

It was an insight possible only for a man who had lived his entire life in the underworld.

“And some people use the war as an opportunity. Humans are beings that have to eat and live even if a war breaks out, their family dies, and they lose their parents.”

Zizek chuckled.

“The royal capital will be full of life again soon.”

“Of course.”

“Now that the royal family’s division has been corrected, will the boss become the new Clan Head?”

“That…”

Barclava, who had been listening quietly, crossed his arms.

“It depends on the intentions of my father and the elders. But Brother Verdzig’s intentions are just as important.”

The reason was…

“Because the achievements my brother has made are so great it would be difficult to say one is superior to the other.”

He was right. Without Verdzig, none of this would have been possible.

“Hmm…”

Ghir crossed his arms.

“You people of the sunlit world live in such a complicated way. Can’t the one who did the killing just become the Clan Head?”

“You crazy bastard.”

Zamuel said, clicking his tongue.

“Why are you getting worked up over a joke?”

“Because when you say it, it doesn’t sound like a joke.”

.

.

.

Verdzig was walking on a high castle wall, in a place where no one was watching.

“…It was a long fight.”

“Indeed, Young Master.”

“I have achieved enough to not be ashamed.”

“It is a brilliant accomplishment.”

“Haha, it is not that grand. Such an expression would be more fitting for Allen.”

“…”

As always, he was accompanied by Harald and Skella.

‘Allenvert. You defeated two 8th-tier masters on your own.’

Verdzig said.

“I fought Duke Montera and former Grand Commander of the Royal Guard Casimir to a draw, but I could not defeat them.”

“…”

Separate from the contest of achievements, that fact was extremely important to Verdzig.

“Skella.”

“Yes.”

“You have contributed greatly. I will set you free.”

“!”

Skela, feeling a great surprise beneath her expressionless face, asked.

“Have you had some sort of premonition? This is unlike you, Young Master.”

“When I look back, what was it that was ‘like me’?”

Verdzig let out a smirk.

“We simply competed together, worked together, and I felt my own inadequacy. That is enough.”

He had finally made up his mind.

‘Allenvert, the position of Clan Head is yours.’

Verdzig Grunewald had conceded.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]