Chapter 161

Chapter 161
In the end, he actually showed up.

Martin held his aching head in his hands.

It was an unthinkable scenario. The Demon King, the very being who had plunged the continent into chaos and become the supreme enemy of the state, was sitting there calmly drinking coffee in the presence of the prince.

“You seem genuinely startled by my arrival.”

“Naturally. What kind of Demon King simply strolls into the center of the empire alone?”

And he was indeed by himself.

“Are you aware that a team of heroes has mobilized again to hunt for your tower?”

“I am. They are pathetically squandering their time.”

“…How exactly did you manage to conceal the tower?”

“If I shared that secret, I might be forced to take your life.”

“Never mind then. What about your current look?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“…Wrong? It is beyond comprehension.”

His facial features were identical. His physical build remained the same. Yet the color of his hair, the shade of his eyes, and the very pressure he radiated had completely shifted.

Because there wasn’t a single trace of demonic energy, it was nearly impossible to identify him as the Demon King, even with prior knowledge of his identity.

“What technique did you employ?”

“That does not concern you.”

“Are the other Demon Kings capable of moving about like this as well?”

“Are you not becoming a bit too inquisitive?”

“What is it you’re after?”

Berge allowed a cunning smirk to cross his face.

“Are you truly that desperate to find out?”

“This is a matter of extreme gravity.”

“I could provide an answer. However, it depends entirely on what you are willing to trade.”

“I have heard you have a fondness for currency.”

“I do.”

“Why would a Demon King have a need for human money?”

“That is a secondary question. The price has just increased.”

“…Just speak your mind.”

“I require a merchant guild.”

“A merchant guild?”

“If that is not on the table, then the negotiation is over.”

This was a calculated move on his part.

Having detected Jason’s influence moving toward the Golden Moon Merchant Guild, he couldn’t afford to be passive. Even if Golden Moon collapsed, he required a backup plan.

“I possess several guilds. I will grant you ownership of one.”

“One that you could annihilate at any moment if your mood sours?”

A minor guild of that stature could be demolished whenever the prince saw fit—especially if he claimed it was secretly working for the Demon King.

Martin Jespain was a man who allied with others strictly for temporary personal advantage; he was not a partner one could trust blindly.

“As a man carrying the royal blood of this great empire, I shall stand by my word.”

“Do you truly believe your word holds weight when dealing with a Demon King?”

“…It does.”

“That fails to inspire much confidence, I’m afraid.”

“Then what is it you desire?”

“A prince of your standing must surely control a guild or two in foreign territories, right?”

“That is…”

“Do not insult my intelligence with transparent falsehoods. Not unless you wish to forfeit your claim to the throne prematurely.”

“…I do have them.”

“In the Trafarta Union?”

“Two under the stewardship of the Aincheil Marquess family.”

“Transfer one to me. Sever all connections with the Aincheil Marquess family entirely. Furthermore, ensure that the change in ownership remains invisible to the public eye.”

“They are not particularly large.”

The Trafarta Union served as a massive commercial crossroads. It was a prosperous land that attracted wealth and people, but it was also saturated with guilds. Because the union favored local organizations tied to its city-states, White Rose and Hyacinth were barely surviving, functioning primarily as listening posts for intelligence within the Trafarta Union.

“In that case, give me both.”

“…That is blatant extortion.”

“You are well aware that the information is worth the price.”

“Furthermore.”

“Increase the investment in those guilds. Your level of contribution will dictate not only the answer to your question but the degree of my future assistance.”

“You would have made an excellent statesman if you weren’t a Demon King.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I will provide 5,000 gold. That is the absolute limit of what I can mobilize at this moment.”

“Acceptable.”

Excluding massive sums like 100,000 or 60,000, that amount was more than enough for a small guild to kickstart several fresh projects. Not just one, but many. Who was it that claimed the best way to do business was with someone else’s coin?

“Now, give me your answer.”

“I am the sole Demon King capable of entirely masking his demonic signature to travel without restriction.”

“And the rest?”

“You can deduce it, can’t you?”

“Supposition is not the same as a confirmed fact.”

“Patronage. Providing support to those who are struggling and in need.”

“I presume this is not out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Naturally. Agents backed by Demon Kings are positioned all across the continent.”

Berge carefully planted a seed of discord.

While there were no nobles under his own influence, there were many under Jason’s. If the third prince began investigating Jason’s aristocratic ties and upended his schemes, it would be quite a spectacle.

“…That was costly information.”

“It is a bargain compared to living in daily anxiety, wondering if every Demon King possesses this ability.”

“I cannot argue with that.”

In truth, revealing his appearance was not ideal for Berge. He had come here boldly because he held Kaede as a bargaining chip, and even with the risk, he needed to verify the status of the sword. If it was truly the weapon meant to pierce his heart, the risk was justified.

“Now it is your turn.”

“Did you bring the key?”

“It is here.”

“Hand it over.”

“Your strategy first. Before I arrived, I learned about the imperial vault from Kaede.”

The vault had been established at the birth of the empire but took its current form seven centuries ago, after a grand magus applied nine powerful seals.

“The vault consists of a main chamber and two entryways. One leads to the warden’s area, and the other to the treasury itself. Is that correct?”

“…It is.”

“The key only functions when paired with imperial blood. Those without royal lineage cannot enter even with the key; any guards must remain in the outer chamber. The warden protects the vault, and a royal may claim only a single artifact. Am I right?”

“…Yes.”

“Well then.”

Berge smirked. He released no killing intent, spoke with no malice, and kept his expression neutral. Even so, Martin felt his skin crawl, as if he were a small animal trapped in the gaze of a predator.

“That legendary symbol of the empire… it cannot be wielded by someone who lacks the qualification?”

“…!”

Martin fell silent.

“…Kaede told you?”

“Did you honestly think your little sister wouldn’t talk? Such a careless oversight.”

Or perhaps.

“Did you really expect she wouldn’t reveal everything when I pressed her?”

“…How did you influence her?”

“That is irrelevant. If you fail to provide a convincing argument, I may have to take drastic measures.”

In a worst-case scenario, he could simply abduct every member of the royal family. The consequences? After relocating his tower to the middle of the ocean, why would he care?

“…The empire will not remain passive.”

“And do you think there isn’t an imperial influence already within the hero party traveling to the Erjest Mountains? What you need to offer me isn’t a hollow threat—it’s a viable plan.”

“…”

As if such a thing existed.

In reality, Berge’s direct appearance had already ruined Martin’s original intentions. He had never imagined the Demon King could mask his power so perfectly and walk into his presence so brazenly.

Take the key.

Take the blood.

Watch the Demon King fail against the warden and the ancient magic during the heist.

He had never planned for the Demon King to arrive in the capital as a guest. Martin bit his lip in frustration.

“You have yet to respond.”

The Demon King’s voice was a heavy pressure.

“…Yes. No one has been able to lift it for hundreds of years, and I am not certain I meet the requirements.”

“And yet you promised you would hand it over to me.”

“You are a Demon King—I thought perhaps you had your own methods. You have the key and you have my blood; why must you follow our procedures?”

“Were you hoping I would fail and trigger the traps?”

“…That’s.”

“Did you think Kaede wouldn’t mention the grand magical barriers that are constantly being reinforced?”

“Why on earth would she…”

“You should be grateful to your sister, Martin Jespain. She is the reason you are still alive. If I had walked in blindly and your plan had unfolded…”

Berge’s gaze became freezing.

“You.”

“Would be a corpse.”

“…”

“This is your final opportunity, Martin Jespain. Try to deceive me again, and your end will be more agonizing than you can conceive.”

“Do not assume I will spare you just for Kaede’s sake.”

“…I will keep that in mind. However.”

“More talk?”

“If you knew all of this, why did you bother coming?”

“To see for myself.”

Challenging the vault’s defenses and its warden while attempting a reckless theft in the heart of the capital was a foolish move. Unless he broke all his seals and returned to his peak power—which was currently impossible—it was suicide.

His only real hope was that Martin could legally claim ownership of Varstain. Honestly, he had low expectations. For a sword that had been without a master for centuries to suddenly choose Martin seemed too convenient.

Nevertheless, he had to confirm it. If the sword was retrieved, all the better. If not, he would gather exact data on Varstain right here in the capital to see if it was indeed the blade from his visions.

“What is Varstain to you? It has been dormant in the vault for ages.”

“That is none of your business.”

And if, by some miracle, he actually brings it out.

*I will seize it or break it, no matter the cost.*

That crimson blade was a lingering threat—a weapon capable of ending Berge’s life. Crafted from dragon bone, it had once torn through his scales and marrow without mercy. In the hands of a commoner, it was powerful; in the hands of a legend, it was devastating.

Back then, at that moment.

His loss might have been inevitable. But at the very least, without that specific sword in the hero’s grip, it wouldn’t have been such a one-sided, pathetic defeat. He could have at least crushed the man’s throat and ensured they both perished.

Removing that one variable made the risk of destroying the sword worth it. If it couldn’t be broken, he would possess it or hide it away.

“Remember two things.”

“First, retrieve the sword and deliver it to me.”

“If you cannot claim it, at least ensure I get a look at it so I can verify its nature.”

“…I understand.”

Berge gave a low growl of warning. Martin nodded in agreement.

—

Only those of royal blood were permitted to enter the imperial treasury.

And even then, only with the specific key, and only once in their entire lives. The items kept within were all legendary relics, but a visitor could only depart with one. Furthermore, every artifact had its own criteria. These noble weapons chose their own wielders, rejecting anyone they deemed unworthy.

“They say some royals have walked out with nothing at all.”

“Stop playing games. If you try to hide the sword after it chooses you, my patience is finished.”

“…I am simply stating the possibilities.”

“Be quiet and move toward the vault.”

“Are you not coming with me?”

“I am.”

Up to the threshold, it was an opportunity to observe the vault and its protector.

“Very well.”

And so, Martin obtained the emperor’s consent. Berge followed behind him, disguised as his personal guard.

“Welcome, Your Highness. I have been expecting you.”

The treasury was located deep beneath the earth. A massive hall and a heavy door appeared, with a man standing guard at the entrance.

“I am Jaxion, the vault administrator.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Duke Jaxion.”

“The guard may not proceed past this point.”

“Understood.”

Berge gave his reply while intensely analyzing both the chamber and Jaxion.

He was powerful.

At minimum, he was at the level of a high-ranking demon—perhaps even surpassing them in certain aspects. He was likely a match for Gordon at his full strength in the demon realm. Beyond that, the entire vault was saturated with magic circles linked directly to Jaxion. If a fight broke out, the environment would empower the guardian while suppressing Berge.

Should he strike now?

The odds were against him; he’d likely lose eight times out of ten. There was no point in taking such a gamble.

“Your Highness, please place the key in this slot.”

“I have it.”

Martin slid the key into the indentation on the door. It clicked perfectly into place. He then made a small incision on his finger, letting a drop of blood fall.

*Woooong—*

The door and the key began to vibrate in unison. With a heavy, grinding sound, the entrance slowly swung open.

“You may remove only one item.”

“I am aware.”

Martin stepped inside the vault.

A stunning array of artifacts that could turn a normal person into a legend met his eyes, drawing an unintentional gasp of wonder. However, he ignored them all, walking straight toward the center of the room. According to the records, the empire’s greatest treasure was kept at the highest point in the middle.

“…My god.”

But.

In contrast to the riches surrounding it.

“…The Crimson Dragon Sword.”

The most vital pedestal was vacant.

“…It’s not here.”

The Crimson Dragon Sword, Varstain, had already been claimed by a master.