Chapter 410

Chapter 410
## Chapter 410

### The Demon World Temple (4)

An inhabitant of Earth and a creature spawned from the abyss of the Demon World.

Two individuals, hailing from completely contradictory backgrounds, yet sharing an uncanny, striking resemblance, stood opposite each other with their eyes firmly locked.

“………”

“………”

A heavy silence hung between them.

They merely observed one another, their eyes communicating a dense web of intricate feelings.

Yet, that silent exchange sufficed.

Though inhabiting distinct physical forms, they were fundamentally the exact same entity.

This connection persisted due to the unique capability of Miyamoto Ken, known as 「Thought Transference」. Even though his link to the system had been severed more than two decades prior, the essence of the skill hadn’t entirely vanished, as he remained within the thirty-year threshold.

However—.

‘…Time has run out.’

Ken lowered his eyelids, visualizing his primary form resting upon the altar, its gaze anchored upon his own.

Both of them recognized the harsh truth.

The existence of Miyamoto Ken, surrendered as an offering for the dark ceremony, was rapidly drawing to its final moment.

This wasn’t merely a matter of physical collapse brought on by prolonged starvation.

His core being, his latent capabilities, his consciousness, his very spirit… every aspect had been utterly drained, leaving behind nothing but a dying ember, a fragile spark of life on the verge of fading forever.

‘…There is no time left…’

No savior could alter his fate now.

Not a holy Saint, not a powerful Demon King, not an ancient Dragon… not even an individual who had recently crossed the threshold of transcendence.

The mere fact that consciousness remained within him was nothing short of a phenomenon.

Perhaps this sudden arrival, this unexpected convergence, had somehow galvanized his final moments.

Ken observed his primary physical form with a highly intricate mix of emotions.

A replica forged through the mechanics of 「Thought Transference」, warped by a malignant hex and reshaped by chaotic demonic forces…

Yet the source, the root origin of that very power, was the figure resting on the sacrificial platform. As for himself, he was merely the duplicate, a manufactured entity.

Consequently,

…the realization struck him with even greater astonishment.

“…Are you truly certain of this choice?”

A profound intent, a deep yearning, radiated from the original Miyamoto Ken.

“………”

The dying man offered nothing but a gentle, quiet smile, his demeanor incredibly tranquil despite the underlying disbelief present in Ken’s tone.

The demonic Ken stared back, his countenance entirely unreadable.

The original’s vocal pathways had degraded and withered to the point of uselessness, rendering him incapable of speech. It was a state of decay that the fully altered demon found difficult to truly grasp.

“In that case, let us commence.”

Yet, there was no rejection.

Aware that their remaining seconds were bleeding away, he cast aside all hesitation.

He set the ‘Demonic Contract’ into motion—a forbidden pact that demanded the absolute surrender of the contractor’s spiritual essence as compensation.

[“Azi DeQure de roTuS Vi…”]

Pressing one palm against the brow of his primary self, he used his other hand to cradle the brittle, emaciated hand of the dying man. His actions were filled with a profound softness and reverence, resembling a holy rite or a parting benediction for a soul on the brink of departure.

Directly after,

Wooong—

…as the parameters of the Demonic Contract locked into place, the sacrificial platform and the surrounding ceremonial vault began to push back, their dark currents surging violently.

It was as though the mechanisms of the chamber refused to relinquish a prize they had already claimed.

Such resistance was inevitable. Miyamoto Ken had long since been surrendered to the altar.

[“DoU keTep JAd ra…”]

He found himself at a severe disadvantage. Structurally, the primary ritual had been operational for over two decades, and in terms of raw capability, his personal power was being actively bottlenecked by the protective wards of the temple.

Under ordinary parameters, his attempt to forge a pact would have been violently thrown back… yet he remained unfazed.

Ultimately,

…the one initiating the agreement and the one yielding to it were identical.

Crackle—!

A monumental distortion of causality, shattering all established doctrines and protocols, fractured the structural integrity of the active ritual, tearing a rift through its defensive network.

Like a vital cog violently wrenched from an intricate, spinning timepiece, the grand ceremony began to fail, its sophisticated mechanisms falling completely out of alignment.

Ken’s intrinsic tie to his primary self possessed a far greater weight than the claim asserted by the altar.

Furthermore, this was no ordinary interference.

‘…I have provided my services without compensation for twenty years. It is only fair that I claim a separation allowance.’

Ken’s gaze sharpened as he severed and claimed a piece of his original self’s spiritual core.

A torrent of immense power, tethered to that spiritual piece, surged directly into his being.

This was the very resource maintaining the ceremony and anchoring the sanctuary itself—one of its fundamental pillars.

Rumble—

The architecture of the temple shuddered violently, mimicking a massive seismic event, yet Ken remained completely unmoved.

He was fully aware that an extraction of this magnitude was insufficient to collapse the entire sanctuary or permanently halt the ritual.

He was constrained from taking any more; the physical state of his primary self was simply too precarious.

‘…This amount will suffice as my parting compensation.’

He cast his gaze downward at his original form. The eyes of the dying man, suddenly filled with clarity and focus due to the sudden rush of power, were looking back up at him.

However, this was merely a temporary surge, a brief flash of awareness preceding the finalization of the pact.

Recognizing this fleeting window, his primary self parted his lips, a brittle, grating sound escaping him.

He possessed the ability to convey his thoughts silently via 「Thought Transference」, yet he deliberately chose the physical alternative.

It was as though he desired to leave an indelible impression, a definitive parting utterance.

“…Greetings… Ken…”

The voice, dormant for more than two decades, sounded fractured and ruined.

Yet, it was the absolute limit of what his physical form could produce.

Following those words, a subtle smile crossed his features, his expression turning completely peaceful as the final glowing embers of his life force dissolved into nothingness.

Wooong—

The binding agreement was finalized.

The traveler from Earth, having spoken his own moniker as his parting breath, closed his eyes for the last time.

“………”

The demon, who now stood as the sole remaining ‘Ken’ in all of creation, stared down at the vacant platform,

…where nothing remained save for the garments the man had once worn.

“…The pact has been fulfilled.”

The spiritual essence he had claimed was far too fractured to be of any benefit to ordinary demons… but for him, the dynamics were entirely unique.

A hollow space, a profound internal isolation that he had endured since the moment of his inception, was suddenly occupied, replaced by an overwhelming sensation of wholeness.

Crackle—

His physical frame, which had remained immobilized at the Earl ranking despite harboring the core essence of a Demon King, began a rapid process of metamorphosis, driven by the massive influx of captured power.

While he hadn’t leaped across multiple ranks instantaneously, he had shattered a formidable barrier—a developmental bottleneck that had long constrained his advancement.

“The compensation… encompasses everything that belonged to Miyamoto Ken. Along with his final desire…”

No longer existing as a mere duplicate or a subordinate entity…

“…to carry on existence in his place.”

…he had transitioned into an authentic demon.

Ken, having now ascended to the rank of a Marquis demon, scanned the layout of the ritual vault.

This location served as the epicenter for the operations of the Dragon Marquis.

Though delayed by this sudden, personal revelation, his primary objective remained entirely unaltered.

“So, the matter is finally settled?”

“Ghahaha! It appears you walked away with quite a prize yourself.”

“In that case, let us make our departure! The Dragon Marquis won’t be away much longer.”

Davidson, who had been investigating the perimeter of the sanctuary while Ken finalized the pact, walked over to join him.

Ken remained unaware of how Davidson possessed information regarding the conditions outside the vault, but he chose not to probe.

He offered a simple gesture of agreement.

The creature had been dispatched by Hella-nim, after all. It was hardly surprising that he possessed exceptional tracking capabilities.

“…Indeed, the process required more time than calculated. Let us move quickly.”

His assignments here were far from concluded.

He had infiltrated this location to harvest intelligence and systematically disrupt the operations of the Dragon Marquis.

His gaze burned with a fresh, focused light as he re-aligned his focus toward his primary goals, his private matters now entirely resolved.

“We will plunder everything of utility and obliterate whatever remains.”

“Ha! Now that is a plan I can appreciate!”

“Hmph! Is there any flesh to consume in this place?”

“I have already cleared out that sector, my friend. The sanctuary itself is sprawling, but his primary operational hub was quite compact!”

Davidson, who proudly labeled himself the premier tracking beast of the Demon World, gestured confidently while expanding his torso, relying on his three sets of highly perceptive eyes and acute tracking senses.

Ken gave an affirmative nod and surveyed the perimeter of the vault.

“Excellent. In that case, I shall take care of the remaining offerings.”

During the process of siphoning power from his original self, he had come to comprehend the critical value of this chamber.

Standard tactical doctrine dictated that when infiltrating hostile territory, one must prioritize the demolition of the opponent’s core infrastructure.

Invoking a faint vestige of 「Thought Transference」, he directed his steps toward the remaining sacrificial platforms.

This was merely the execution of an objective, naturally.

He harbored no sentimental attachments regarding the task.

—

“Heron! What in the world happened to your arm?!”

“Haha… Well… things became a bit complicated.”

“Unbelievable… The head of medical services contacted me in an absolute state of panic…”

Hesperon rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, finding himself unable to look her straight in the eye.

He was well aware that his actions had caused her genuine distress.

Ultimately, she wouldn’t be displaying such agitation if his well-being meant nothing to her.

“…Seriously, your behavior baffles me at times. Are you truly unhurt? Are there other injuries?”

“Not at all! The old gentleman was merely blowing things out of proportion. I am completely fine, and I even possess a contingency measure prepared, just in case.”

Riley, the Crown Princess of the Azerion Empire and the designated successor to the imperial throne, narrowed her gaze, her countenance filled with deep reservation.

She had been completely occupied with administrative affairs when an urgent communication from the medical director reached her.

Abandoning every scheduled commitment, she had hurried to this location, and his dismissive assurances did very little to ease her mind.

‘…What exactly is he plotting? I have consciously avoided restricting him, given his apparent aversion to being confined within the grand estate… ’

A part of her wished to confine him to a secure location under constant observation… yet she recognized the impossibility of such an act.

He was not some pet to be caged.

Furthermore, given his history of breaking out of the Immortal King’s stronghold, keeping him contained was an unrealistic notion.

‘…Hold on a moment… ’

As her mind traversed through their previous escapades, a sudden, jarring revelation caught her off guard.

Her eyes dilated with astonishment, and she instinctively brought a hand to her lips.

‘…A binding agreement exists between us, does it not? Formed during his breakout? And the parameters specified… ’

He did not belong to her… rather, she was classified as his property.

Such was the unyielding framework of their pact.

He retained the authority to reach out to her and even pull her to his location at any given moment, irrespective of the distance separating them.

‘…Goodness, I was aware of this… but is this situation truly acceptable? I am the designated heir to the Azerion Empire! Yet I am… classified as someone else’s… asset…?’

By some stroke of luck, no one, including the Archmage, had discerned this reality, owing to his highly unconventional talents… nevertheless, it remained a highly explosive confidence, a secret capable of destroying her legitimacy as the imperial successor.

She swallowed hard, a sudden dryness gripping her throat.

The reality had always been present in her mind… but analyzing it with absolute seriousness caused a wave of apprehension to wash over her.

‘…No, it carries distinct advantages. He represents an exceptional safeguard.’

It was the ultimate protective measure she could ever hope to possess.

Regardless of the perils she might encounter, so long as he stood as her shield, her survival was absolute.

His combat efficacy had been demonstrated on countless occasions.

‘…Well, the arrangement is set. It is actually quite reassuring… ’

A subtle crimson tint crept into her cheeks as she became trapped in her own reflections.

A fleeting mental picture drifted through her consciousness.

A vision of herself reigning as the Empress, with Hesperon standing resolutely and proudly by her side.

Then, the mental image shifted dramatically…

“Riley?”

“What?!”

She gave a sudden start, pulled abruptly from her thoughts, and faced him with a deeply flushed countenance.

Her highly animated response caught Hesperon off guard as well.

He had merely spoken her name out of concern, noting her sudden look of intense panic.

Clearing her throat in a bid to reclaim her dignified posture, she forced her tone to sound indifferent and detached.

“Ahem, I must insist that you exercise caution. Heron, you no longer operate entirely on your own.”

“Pardon?”

“Ah?”

The words had escaped her lips entirely unbidden. It was an involuntary utterance.

Desperate to cover her tracks, she quickly invented a pretext regarding pressing administrative matters and made a swift departure,

…instructing him to initiate contact should he require any form of assistance.

Hesperon watched her receding figure, a low chuckle escaping him.

Directly after, his gaze dropped to his right upper limb, his expression shifting to one of profound gravity as he sank into contemplation.

“Mmh, I can only hope this phenomenon isn’t beginning to impact her state of mind.”

The obsidian blemishes covering his skin had expanded in size.

The restrictive matrix was maintaining its integrity for now… but it was clearly enduring immense pressure.

‘…The potency is remarkable, even while restricted under a seal.’

This was, after all, the residual malice of a fully realized Demon King.

It was entirely plausible that its ambient energy, even in minute concentrations, could exert a subconscious pressure on individuals in his immediate vicinity.

Being entirely insulated against psychic intrusions himself, he might fail to perceive the transformation occurring.

“…I must formalize the creation of that protective seal without delay.”

He compressed his lips and tightened his hand into a fist, sensing the dark power vibrating through his arm, despite the active constraints.

‘…I might possess the capacity to call forth Ken utilizing this residual force. I wonder if the mechanics will function back on Earth?’

His thoughts shifted to the Earl-ranked entity, bound explicitly to the Dark Soul anchored within his own flesh, and a dark smile played on his face.

He began to deliberate on methods to drastically force the entity’s evolution forward.