But Yeong Homyeong had identified him precisely as the Ferocious Beast.
“You may have taken advantage of the moment before the Seven Poison Golden Technique fully took root and fortunately succeeded in assassinating the Sage, but know that this is not the end. Dugu Cheng. Human lifespans are finite. You shall spend eons reincarnating, washing away the sin of betraying the Sage’s grace.”
The writing on the stone tablet ended there. A madness flickered across Damon’s face.
Damon, who had been glaring holes through the tablet, rose with a shudder.
*Pachichich.*
The mana in both hands violently rearranged itself. The atmosphere rapidly condensed, and dozens—hundreds—of elongated clusters of light revealed themselves. They were his trademark Magic Missiles. The Magic Missiles immediately began surging toward the tablet.
*Thud. Thud-thud.*
The tablet began to shatter mercilessly. The characters of the Central Plains that Yeong Homyeong had left behind were also crumbling to pieces. The Magic Missile assault continued without end. The tablet’s debris was fated to become pebbles, then turn to sand, and even that was not enough—it had to transform into fine powder. Damon’s bloodshot eyes darted wildly as he muttered ceaselessly.
“Kekeke. A shameless villain who betrayed grace… You speak so lightly, but do you think you can know my heart? I, too, was deeply devoted to the Sacred Saint in my heart. I respected him at least as much as you revered him, if not more. Do you know? When I later heard that the Sacred Saint had been assassinated, I forgot to eat for a month. Because I incessantly blamed myself, thinking I was the cause of the Sacred Saint’s death. Do you know the reason I was able to shake off the shock and rise again? It was because of vengeance.”
Even as Damon poured out his soliloquy, the Magic Missiles continued destroying the tablet.
“At the time, I made the Pale-faced Infernal Judge, Du Weiqing, the target of my vengeance for what he had done. Because back then, I did not know that Xie Junhuan was manipulating things from behind. I ultimately succeeded in my revenge. The very first thing I did after completing my closed-door training was tearing Du Weiqing apart alive… Back then, consumed by demonic nature, I slaughtered every single one of the warriors who had come to rescue me, leaving none alive. But to think that, too, was something Xie Junhuan had schemed. He handed me the right to decide Du Weiqing’s life and death without the slightest hesitation. Because I had achieved mastery in the Tianzi Xuemo Gong… In other words, he judged that I was far more useful than Du Weiqing.”
The tablet had now transformed into fine powder unrecognizable even by trace. Yet the barrage of Magic Missiles still hovered in the air with a menacing air. His face deathly pale, devoid of a single drop of blood, Damon kept muttering.
“That is precisely why I am so obsessed with taking vengeance upon Xie Junhuan. I can forgive being used, but I can never forgive that he dared give the order to assassinate the Sacred Saint. Do you know? Yeong Homyeong!”
Damon’s roar, bellowing with his head flung back, became an echo that rampaged through the underground plaza. The outcry did not cease easily. It continued ceaselessly until his mental strength was completely exhausted.
*Thud.*
Having lost his strength, Damon collapsed powerlessly to the floor. It was because he had received an enormous mental shock. His rampaging consciousness soon manifested in the form of a dream at Mount Song’s Shaolin Temple from hundreds of years ago. The day the Shaolin Sacred Saint, Huijing, was assassinated—in other words, the night Damon had escaped from the Shaolin Temple.
“S-Sacred Saint.”
Damon screamed until his throat tore. The fountain of blood soaring into the void dug into his eyes with excruciating cold, but there was nothing Damon could do. It was nothing but heartrending that he could not step forward even as he watched the Sacred Saint being torn to shreds by dull blades. He glared at Dugu Cheng, who lay sprawled powerlessly on one side, unconscious, as if he would devour him.
“Get up. I said get up.”
But Dugu Cheng simply lay sprawled powerlessly. As he came into contact with the events of the past, the incident that had filled him with boundless regret, a sense of powerlessness enveloped his entire body and whirled around him. The only thing he could do was scream at the top of his lungs. But his efforts could not stop the hand of Du Weiqing, who repeatedly brought his blade down. Du Weiqing, having confirmed that the Sacred Saint’s breath had completely ceased, looked around at his subordinates.
“It’s finished for certain. We withdraw.”
Damon could only watch in a daze as Du Weiqing hoisted Dugu Cheng—his childhood self—onto his shoulder and escaped from that place. And then he lost consciousness.
“It was a dream.”
Damon, curled up in a corner, spat out a dry voice as if in soliloquy. His complexion was extremely haggard, and his gaze was faint like that of a person who had lost the meaning of life. Having come into contact with something he had long tried to forget yet could not, his heart grew extremely heavy. The dying Sacred Saint’s eyes dug into his head with piercing cold. Because it was a gaze that did not blame him in the slightest, his heart could not help but ache all the more.
“If only you had blamed me… If only you had scolded me, saying you had to die because of me…”
Damon, who had been shaking his head with a bitter expression, rose with a shudder. His heart ached, but it was something that had already happened hundreds of years ago. His gaze turned to the powder scattered chaotically on the floor. Seeing it, a sardonic smile hung at his lips.
“I’m relieved that you forgave me. But Yeong Homyeong, do you truly have the right to forgive me? If only you were still alive. And if you had heard of my predicament…”
But that was impossible. Yeong Homyeong, that is, the Grand Emperor Crossein, was also someone who had departed this world hundreds of years ago. There was no one left who remembered the events of that time except Damon.
“Anyway, congratulations. To you, who achieved legend as a fellow martial artist of the Central Plains. In return for teaching me the secret of the Seven Poison Golden Technique, I promise you one thing. Xie Junhuan, who orchestrated the Sacred Saint’s assassination from behind the scenes—I will surely punish him…”
Damon, who had been speaking in a low voice, suddenly began to tremble with laughter.
“Come to think of it, does that make you and me martial brothers? Though there is the difference that you learned martial arts while I studied the Buddhist law. Moreover, I am now facing you while borrowing the body of your descendant. Huhuhu. Isn’t this a fate so entangled it cannot be explained in words?”
Having burst into inexplicable laughter for quite some time, Damon turned his body, staggering. He had discovered the identity of the Grand Emperor Crossein, which he had so desperately wanted, but it was not as refreshing as he had thought.
“I need to rest for now. Then it would be better to leisurely restore Russellrand, wouldn’t it?”
Damon’s face, as he walked out between the wooden statues, was deeply furrowed.
The matter of the coronation to place Crown Prince Devereux on the throne was handled with lightning speed. It had been postponed and deferred countless times up until now, but the moment Count Perchtstein threw his support behind it, the situation reversed drastically.
At the convened assembly of nobles, the coronation for the new emperor’s ascension was decided unanimously. The opinion coalesced on holding the coronation as simply as possible, and as soon as possible. There had never been a matter discussed at the assembly of nobles that was handled this quickly. Even though it concerned the supreme matter of the crown prince ascending to the throne.
Valencius I, who had been struggling in a vegetative state, was decided to be dethroned through the assembly of nobles. Not a single opposing vote was cast. The old emperor had been lying in a state of complete absence of consciousness for over ten years. Therefore, his influence could be considered nonexistent. What was ironic was that during that period, the emperor’s authority had been drastically reduced. State affairs were largely decided according to Count Perchtstein’s will through the assembly of nobles, and the miscellaneous affairs of the palace had been handled solely by Administrator Teodor, so the emperor of the Crossein Empire had long since fallen to being merely symbolic.
Nevertheless, the influence that the emperor of the Crossein Empire wielded over the people and the kingdoms of Arcadia was immense. By the sole fact of being the descendant of the Grand Emperor, they offered endless reverence and loyalty to the Emperor of Crossein. Despite having controlled state affairs for a long time, it was precisely for this reason that Count Perchtstein had been unable to rashly dethrone the emperor.
The coronation was held exactly two days after it was approved by the assembly of nobles. The coronation at which Crown Prince Devereux succeeded his dethroned father and ascended as Valencius II began amid the ardent welcome of the people. It was exactly eight days after Damon had entered the Imperial Memorial Hall. Tens of thousands of Felzenten citizens flocked around the imperial palace to welcome the new emperor.
“Long live His Majesty the Emperor.”
“May the Crossein Empire be eternal… O Grand Emperor, please watch over His Majesty forever.”
Count Perchtstein, watching the coronation from afar, furrowed his brow. He was not on very good terms with the new emperor. Crown Prince Devereux had assassinated countless imperial family members and had even put his own father into a vegetative state, so he was displaying open hostility toward Count Perchtstein.
Thus, Count Perchtstein likewise could not be feeling favorable toward the new emperor. However, he was a man as thorough in self-control as he was in vast ambition. He intended to avoid conflict with the new emperor as much as possible, thinking of the great undertaking.
He had been absent from the coronation to avoid causing unnecessary problems. But watching the ardent welcome of the people, the Count’s heart was not entirely at ease.
“Truly an ardent welcome. I have rendered him a figurehead, yet the people still offer true loyalty to the emperor.”
The loyalty the Felzenten citizens offered to the new emperor could be described as blind in a word. He received such adoration for the sole reason of being the descendant of the Grand Emperor Crossein.
Feeling sorrow, Count Perchtstein muttered silently.
“The shadow of the Grand Emperor Crossein lies too heavily over this place. If I had toppled the emperor and ascended to that seat…”
Count Perchtstein, who had been pondering, shook his head bitterly.
“Far from the people’s welcome, I would be too busy suppressing rebellions in every region to even blink. No matter how much benevolent rule I bestowed, the people would see me merely as a traitor who usurped the throne. Because of that, I kept delaying my ascension, only to end up in this situation.”
No matter how outstanding his abilities were, erasing the shadow of the Grand Emperor Crossein that lay over all of Arcadia was impossible from the very beginning. The Grand Emperor Crossein stood in a position equal to God in a word for the people of Arcadia. No possibility of erasing that could be seen even with the passage of time. But Count Perchtstein harbored a single hope in his heart. That hope had arisen only recently. The Count’s pupils sparkled with anticipation.
“Arcadia may be impossible, but Trubenia is a different matter. If I lead the war to victory and liberate the people of Trubenia from the clutches of the orcs, there will be no one to oppose my ascension. And if I fully demonstrate my abilities, reorganize the nation, and bestow benevolent rule upon the new people… Perhaps in the distant future, I too may be revered by the people of Trubenia to a degree rivaling the Grand Emperor Crossein? Huhu. I look forward to it. Shall a second Grand Emperor Crossein be born in Trubenia? What is important is that achieving this is not entirely impossible.”
Count Perchtstein trembled finely due to the ecstasy. It was far better than usurping the hollow shell that was the imperial throne of the Crossein Empire.
Although he had been forced to change his goal because he had received the surgery for the Blood Leech of Subordination from the black mage Damon, it was not entirely bad. Rather, the new goal was instilling an even clearer sense of purpose in Count Perchtstein.
The thought of personally ascending to the throne, demonstrating his abilities, and founding an empire. And the thought of the House Helpain receiving the adoration of the Trubenian people generation after generation was undoubtedly something that swelled his chest with pride just thinking about it. The Count, lost in such thoughts, suddenly came to his senses.
“Dear me. The war has not even begun yet, and here I am indulging in vain delusions… I too am merely a helpless human. I am still unable to remain detached from fame and gain.”
The Count put on a bitter smile and shook his head.
“The most important thing for me now is to lead the invasion of Trubenia to victory. I will achieve it no matter what, even if I must stake everything I have.”
The Count’s tightly clenched fist was trembling violently.