Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Alon, the protagonist from the story where mere breathing made him the underworld’s sovereign, clutched his whirling thoughts and reflected.

‘Did I actually issue that command…?… And if so, when?’

As Duke Altia waited with her head respectfully lowered, Alon, lost in contemplation, finally released a quiet sound of realization.

‘Ah.’

-Let’s begin by purging the underworld.

He remembered that he had, in fact, uttered words to that effect after some consideration.

‘Wait, surely anyone would interpret that as just removing a few superfluous gangsters? Not a cleansing of this magnitude…’

Yet, what truly stunned him was not the Duke’s misinterpretation of his words, but the fact that they had successfully eradicated the entire criminal underworld of the Asteria Kingdom.

‘Is such a thing… even feasible?’

Naturally, Alon was aware that Duke Altia and Count Zenonia were destined to become significant powers within Asteria’s shadows. But even so…

For them to have so completely subjugated Asteria’s underworld seemed nearly impossible.

In the game’s lore, the underworld of Asteria was acknowledged as one of the most substantial ‘dark forces’, rivaling even that of the Kingdom of Ashtalon within the United Kingdoms. The majority of clandestine groups operating across the United Kingdoms traced their origins back to these two regions.

This meant Asteria’s underworld was a tangled web of innumerable syndicates. For his subordinates to have seized control implied they must have obliterated every single one, a notion that felt unbelievable.

‘Did they truly eradicate them all?’

His mind clouded with uncertainty, Alon ventured a careful question.

“Yes,” she answered, her nod so firm and resolute that Alon was momentarily struck silent before he could form another sentence.

“You must have endured a great deal.”

“Not at all, it was only possible because of your efforts, Count, in handling both the royalists and the nobles.”

“The royalists and the nobles?”

“Indeed. With the leaders of both factions detained by you, the purge proceeded far more smoothly.”

Alon nearly retorted, ‘But wasn’t it you two who managed that, not me?’, but the thought was fleeting.

“So, as you commanded, we have seized the underworld. What are your instructions now?”

Duke Altia’s question left Alon without a reply. The truth was, he had no subsequent strategy.

The sole reason Alon had proposed cleaning the underworld was that it sounded like a plausible, long-term objective.

‘I never expected it to be completed with such speed.’

As Alon wracked his brain for what to tell Duke Altia next, the duke spoke up once more.

“Perhaps our next move concerns the Queen…?”

“…The Queen?”

“Yes. Now that our influence has expanded, it is time to take action.”

Hearing this, Alon issued his next directive.

“For the time being, we will consolidate our current position.”

With that order given, the communication device went dark, and he was left to his quiet musings.

“At this juncture, it is logical that the Queen would begin to stir.”

Although Asteria was a kingdom largely governed by its nobility, it remained a monarchy, with a Queen reigning at its head.

Asteria’s 8th monarch, Cretinia Siyan. She was the eighth queen of Asteria, and despite the turmoil created by the nobles’ unchecked power, she had retained significant authority without directly administering the kingdom or engaging in political machinations.

The reason was none other than the unique power inherent in the royal bloodline of Asteria, and more specifically, in Cretinia Siyan herself: the ‘Golden Eye of History’ (금사안).

‘…Though it’s called the ‘Golden Eye’, it wasn’t actually a visual power.’

The ‘Golden Eye of History’ that Alon knew of was simply named for the royal family’s distinctive, brilliant golden eyes. The inherited ability itself was straightforward: it permitted the wielder to transfer their accumulated power through the generations. Much like passing on saved game data, this unique strength could be inherited by the next successor, and while its description was simple, it was an overwhelmingly potent capability.

The power grew stronger with each successive generation, granting the royal family sufficient might to uphold the monarchy without needing to dabble in political intrigue. Consequently, the nobles were naturally more cautious and avoided overstepping their bounds.

‘From what I understand, Cretinia Siyan simply refrains from action because she considers it a bother,’ Alon thought, remembering the detached, nearly vacant expression she wore in the game’s artwork.

‘Given everything that has transpired, there might be some opposition, but judging by her character, she’ll probably just ignore it.’

He recalled her behavior in the game, where she typically only intervened when one of the ‘Five Great Sins’ descended upon Asteria. On those occasions, she would temporarily join the player’s party and exhibit immense power. But outside of those rare events, she demonstrated little concern for her kingdom’s governance. Her apathy was so profound that players often joked she was less a monarch and more of a guardian dragon.

With that in mind, Alon resolved to unwind. However, the following day…

Ssshhh.

As he continued his magical studies, mulling over an unresolved question—’Who was the entity that spoke to him during the fight with the Outer God?’—he was in the middle of eating a sweet potato when Evan approached him.

“Count, are you having sweet potato again?”

“Would you like one?”

“If there is a spare… Actually, never mind. You have received a critical message.”

Evan handed him the letter, dusting a light snowfall from his own hair. It was sealed with the royal family’s insignia.

“This is…”

“It appears that one month from now… at the beginning of the new year, the royal palace will host its first grand ball in five years. And also…”

“There’s more?”

“Yes. The courier who brought the letter stated that the Queen herself has specifically requested the attendance of Count Palatio.”

Hearing this, Alon let out a soft, resigned sound, “Ah…”

And precisely one month later, after receiving the royal summons and having fully recuperated from his five-month struggle with mana addiction, Alon was once again deep in thought, considering how to compensate for his deficient mana reserves.

“Count.”

“Yes.”

He stepped into the carriage bound for the royal palace to attend the ball.

“I’ll make a stop at the royal palace, then visit the desert labyrinth before returning.”

It was the beginning of a lengthy journey, his first excursion in some time.

***

Within a shadowy cavern near Caliban, three individuals stood. One was a man entirely swathed in bandages, marked with peculiar symbols. The second was a woman whose face was half-covered by a grotesque, circuit-like tattoo. The third was a man bearing two kama on his back.

“Salgui, are the preparations for the spirit summoning complete?”

the man inquired, looking at the other two.

“What preparations are needed? It’s just the three of us. If we’re going, we’re ready,” the woman, Ju-ryeong, replied, shrugging her shoulders with an air of nonchalant confidence.

“I feel the same. Is preparation truly necessary?”

The man named Salgui answered in an equally relaxed manner.

“Just make sure you are prepared, as a precaution.”

“Wow, I never knew you to be so wary, boss. For a man who has slain numerous royals and over two Sword Masters, this seems excessively timid,” Ju-ryeong sneered.

“Well, I have heard that Deus Macallian is somewhat exceptional. It seems he was the one who defeated Reinhardt.”

“So what? The three of us together could handle Reinhardt with ease.”

The man let out a faint sigh as he listened to their exchange.

Had anyone else made such a claim, he would have laughed. But knowing the track records of these two, he did not consider it arrogance. Every person present had individually defeated at least one Master Knight, establishing their own formidable prowess.

Even so, he cautioned them against underestimating their opponent.

“Do not become overconfident. Defeating Reinhardt means he is stronger than that.”

His words caused Salgui and Ju-ryeong to halt, the casual smirks they had worn a moment earlier fading from their faces.

“Well, if you say so.”

“Let’s wrap this up quickly.”

“Since it’s an ambush and not a direct confrontation, we can likely eliminate him without a prolonged fight.”

As Ju-ryeong and Salgui began to discuss their plan in earnest, the man quietly led their infiltration into the central district of Kirdam, the capital of Caliban, where Deus was located.

It did not take long for the three agents to breach the grounds of Deus Macallian’s mansion.

And then—

“Identify yourselves.”

Upon entering the mansion, they immediately found Deus Macallian standing before them, silhouetted by the light of the blue moon.

All three agents frowned in unison, as not one of them had detected his presence.

Their failure to sense him meant they could have been ambushed at any moment. Yet, instead of attacking, Deus had revealed himself openly. This implied that, as a Master Knight, he had already assessed their strength and was self-assured enough to confront them directly.

“Do you think it was wise to show yourself so readily? That might have been your only chance to survive,” Ju-ryeong asked, her brow slightly furrowed.

“Assassins?” Deus inquired, his tone indifferent.

“What if we are?”

“I see.” A fierce smile spread across Ju-ryeong’s face as tension thickened the air, but Deus remained utterly unperturbed.

“In that case, I will simply kill you.”

He stated it plainly, swinging his sword with a calm, impassive expression.

Exactly five minutes later…

“Damn it…”

The three agents stood frozen, gazing at Deus in stunned disbelief.

Despite expecting to overpower a single Master Knight without much difficulty, the battle had unfolded completely differently. Even with a three-on-one advantage, they had only managed to fight Deus to a stalemate. In fact, they were gradually being pushed back.

‘What kind of monster is this man?’

The man stared at Deus, unable to believe his eyes. Based on his intelligence, Deus Macallian had only become a Master Knight two or three years prior, and his rank was not exceptionally high. When rumors recently circulated that he had defeated Reinhardt, the man had assumed luck was a major factor.

But now, in this moment, he realized how grievously mistaken that assumption had been.

“I propose a negotiation,” the man offered.

“A negotiation?”

“Yes. Our original target was not you, but Count Palatio.”

Of course, they were fully aware of Deus’s strong connection to Count Palatio. However, given the current predicament, the man decided to disclose this information.

‘No matter how monstrous he is, if the three of us fight him to the death, even he must acknowledge he would be gambling his life.’

The man subtly scrutinized Deus’s body. While there were no major wounds, he could see numerous small lacerations scattered across him, proof that Deus was not completely unharmed and could not afford to be overconfident.

‘No matter how loyal one is, when one’s own life is on the line, their attitude will change.’

“If you provide us with the information we require about Count Palatio, we will withdraw immediately. We will not pursue you again. But if you refuse…”

The man added in a voice barely above a whisper, “Our associates will hunt you down, day and night.”

It was an overt threat, but the man said nothing more. He knew there was no need to elaborate further for someone as perceptive of strength as Deus.

And then, it occurred.

“…?”

The man stared ahead, bewildered. The scene before him had not altered dramatically. Yet, one thing was different.

‘…!?’

Under the blue moonlight, he suddenly perceived slender, violet threads now glowing vividly within his line of sight. These threads, resembling a spider’s web, had enveloped the entire mansion—or more accurately, saturated his entire field of vision. They were coiled not only around him but also around Salgui and Ju-ryeong.

In that instant,

“What—!”

“What is this—!!”

Everyone present began to move against their will.

Salgui gripped his axe, Ju-ryeong clutched the kama in her right hand, and the man raised the sword in his left hand—each of them directing their own weapons toward their throats.

“This is… damn it!!”

“Stop, STOP!!”

“Aaaargh—!!”

The intruders, faces contorted in horror, fought desperately to regain control of their bodies, resisting the irresistible force.

But it was futile. Entangled in the violet threads, they moved like marionettes, manipulated by an unseen puppeteer, as their weapons were slowly pressed against their own necks, against all their will.

“No, NO! Please, no!!!”

“Please, I beg you!!!”

Their terror-stricken screams echoed briefly—until…

Squelch!

In the end, they each ended their own lives with their own hands. Crimson blood dripped along the violet threads.

And the final sight the man registered, as he too drove his sword into his neck, bringing his life to an end, was…

“Do not ever utter such things in my presence again.”

A pair of sinister, luminous violet eyes.