Chapter 472 |
Tanaka was, in truth, extremely nervous.
This was the imperial capital after all. The demons coming and going here far outnumbered those in the border towns. And looming in the distance stood Duskmire Keep—home to the legendary Emperor, the bloodborn progenitor.
But when Kiro heard the title “bloodborn progenitor,” he merely let out a soft, dismissive snort.
He didn’t explain. Instead, he raised a furry finger to his lips, then tilted his eyes upward toward the blood-red sky canopy that blanketed the city.
Tanaka had no choice but to swallow his questions and irritation.
Kiro was always like this—he arranged everything, but never revealed the final piece of the plan until the last possible moment.
For the next two days, Kiro took him wandering aimlessly through the city. They passed bustling markets, slipped into dark alleys, and each time they somehow avoided the newly increased patrol routes with uncanny precision.
Tanaka gradually realized that Kiro’s familiarity with this city was astonishing—almost as if every street, every turn, every courtyard was already mapped inside his mind.
On the third day, a deep resonant hum rolled across the sky.
Then, like a receding tide, it flowed southward, away from the city.
As the bloodborn in the streets muttered in confusion and annoyance, sunlight shone on Duskmire’s weathered stone streets for the first time in ages.
The moment the blood curtain fully withdrew, Kiro led Tanaka straight into the cellar of a secluded courtyard. The air was damp, filled with mildew and the scent of strange herbs.
There, they met a thin, twitchy old demonkin.
Only then did Kiro finally reveal their purpose. His voice carried clearly through the cramped cellar:
“Do you know, three hundred years ago Duskmire wasn’t called Duskmire? It was called Demon King City. And if there is a Demon King City… naturally, there is a Demon King.”
Tanaka’s body jolted. “Wait—don’t tell me… the Demon King is sealed inside Duskmire Keep!?”
Kiro shrugged. “More accurately… a part of him.”
Tanaka’s vision swam.
He had assumed “unsealing the Demon King” would involve some ancient ruins or a hidden dungeon.
Not…
“What kind of first quest sends you straight to raid the Emperor’s stronghold!?”
As Tanaka wailed in despair, the old demonkin beside them suddenly burst into manic laughter.
Only after the insane cackling died away did Tanaka take a deep breath and steady himself.
“So… how many people have you stationed inside Duskmire Keep?”
“Duskmire Keep?” Kiro waved a hand dismissively. “None. Everyone in there is the Emperor’s direct bloodline. Even if we could tempt them, it would be endlessly troublesome. In truth, every participant in this operation… is standing inside this cellar right now.”
Tanaka’s mouth fell open.
He pointed at the old, twitchy demonkin.
Then at himself.
Then stared at Kiro in disbelief.
When Kiro nodded calmly, Tanaka nearly jumped to his feet.
“Are you insane!? Even if the Emperor left with the artifact, the sealing chamber must still be heavily guarded! And you expect us three—this old guy isn’t even above Diamond-tier!”
Tanaka had long since developed the habit of checking panels first whenever he met someone.
The old demonkin, Rattiel, really was strong—Diamond-tier was respectable anywhere.
But attempting Duskmire Keep with this tiny group?
It was a joke.
A terrible, suicidal joke.
“Calm down and listen.” Kiro remained composed. “Outside the sealing chamber, yes, defenses are layered beyond measure. But inside the chamber, the seal itself occupies all available space. There are no additional formations, and no guards can be stationed within. If we can get you inside, breaking the seal will be trivial.”
“Hold on! You think you can fool me because I’m not a mage? Teleportation needs a fixed dual anchor. That’s basic common sense! And no way the Emperor would leave such an obvious loophole in something as important as the Demon King’s seal!”
Kiro nodded approvingly. “Under normal circumstances, you’re correct. The wards outside the sealing chamber disrupt all positioning magic. Even standing directly in front of the door, you can’t teleport inside without destroying the barrier first.”
“But—”
His tone shifted, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes.
“There exists a category of magic that transcends convention. Unpredictable, unpreventable, and impossible to counter.”
Tanaka instinctively glanced at Rattiel’s panel—and suddenly understood.
“…Deep abyssal magic?”
“Exactly.” Kiro pointed at the old demonkin. “Rattiel can cast a spell called Random Teleportation. With the blood curtain gone, it’s the only method besides brute force that can get us inside. In fact, if the curtain were still present, even this wouldn’t work—it would detect the spell before it was completed.”
Tanaka still wasn’t convinced.
“Wait, wait—‘random’ teleportation? How do you guarantee it’ll send me inside? Are we just… gambling on luck?”
“To ordinary people, abyssal magic is chaotic, unknowable. Same spell, same place—yet the outcome differs wildly from one moment to the next.
But to me—” Kiro’s voice sharpened, confidence radiating through each syllable.
“—every moment’s outcome is predetermined. If we act at precisely the right time, in precisely the right spot… we will get the result I want.”
Tanaka rarely saw Kiro like this.
The man whose eyes were always calm now carried a glint of razor-edge certainty.
Tanaka found himself nodding before he realized it.
“So… you want me to go?”
The only part of him useful for this was his clone skill. Tanaka spoke somewhat vaguely, given the unfamiliar demonkin present.
Kiro didn’t bother with subtlety. “Yes. Your clone leaves no trace. Once the seal is destroyed, dismiss it—the trail ends there. They’ll never track us.”
“Are you sure? Doesn’t abyssal magic leave extremely obvious traces?”
For the first time, the old demonkin laughed softly.
A rasping, fragile sound.
Rattiel lifted his head. The arcane lines on his face were faded and brittle, his eyes glowing oddly in the candlelight.
“Rest easy, human. After the teleportation is complete, I will take the secret of you two outsiders… and end my life with abyssal magic.”
His thin fingers formed a strange, claw-like gesture before his chest.
“I assure you—nothing will remain.”
His voice sharpened suddenly, cracking with suppressed obsession and hatred.
His gaze locked onto Kiro like a predator’s.
“I don’t care if you’re moving against that traitor Mortis, or doing something else entirely. Even if you intend to destroy this Empire, I don’t care! As long as you free the Demon King—I will gladly throw this wretched life away! Tell me… you will succeed, won’t you?”
Kiro clapped his hands softly and met Rattiel’s burning gaze.
“Of course. Everything is within the plan. No need to rush—the Emperor has only just left. We’ll act once he’s far enough away.
Until then… there are preparations to make.”
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