Demon Territory.
Inside an enormous palace, a tall throne held a blurry, profound figure sitting quietly.
On the palace walls hung two rows of magic lamps, but the moment their light touched the area around the throne, it seemed to be devoured by something and disappeared without a trace.
Clang.
Clang.
The sound of heavy metal colliding and scraping accompanied footsteps echoing through the palace.
A demon with horns on its head and a pair of wings on its back walked into the palace.
Under the dim lights inside the palace, the pitch-black armor covering its body—seamless except for openings at the horns and wings—reflected a cold gleam.
A fully armored flying demon.
Among flying demons known for being light and agile, such attire that seriously hindered movement was extremely rare.
The flying demon knelt on one knee before the throne and respectfully lowered its head.
“My King.”
The figure on the throne raised its head.
“I should have said this long ago. You do not need to call me King.”
Its voice was low and deep.
When it spoke, a faint sound like grains of sand rubbing together seemed to emerge from its throat.
“The true King died long ago, more than a thousand years past. This is an established fact. You must remember it.”
The demon remained silent.
The figure adjusted its sitting posture. It now looked more upright and more solemn.
“What we must do is not mourn the King of the past, but pour all our strength into welcoming our new King—the true King who possesses the Authority—to our Demon Territory. Do you understand?”
“…Yes.”
The demon lowered its head even further.
“Prophet.”
“Good, as long as you understand.” The figure addressed as the Prophet nodded.
“Therefore, Beg, your mission has failed.”
It was not a question, but a statement.
“You… already knew?”
The demon’s body trembled slightly, its voice somewhat dry.
“Since I can bear the title of ‘Prophet,’ I naturally have real ability.”
“Prophet, we…” The demon spoke, seemingly wanting to explain.
But the figure merely waved its hand, as if tired of the topic.
“I have no interest in how you failed.”
It said coldly.
“However, I require the next attempt to succeed without fail. In the future I have glimpsed, the demons can no longer wait another hundred years.”
The demon kneeling before the throne looked up in shock.
“How could that be?”
“This is the truth.”
The Prophet said in a hoarse voice.
“Although that person is still interfering with my divination magic, it is clear that he is nearing death. Otherwise, I would not even have been able to obtain this information.”
“By ‘that person,’ you mean…?” The demon asked cautiously.
“A human.” The Prophet’s voice was flat, showing no fluctuation.
“If not for him—no, if not for them—I would not have had such difficulty locating the target who carries the Key of Authority.”
It laughed in a low voice.
“Unfortunately, he has grown too old. Too old to hide all the traces.”
A hopeful light ignited in the demon’s eyes.
“You mean…”
“Kurand Empire.”
The Prophet returned to its indifferent demeanor, as if the earlier laugh had been nothing but the demon’s imagination.
“The target is currently there. Next, she may head eastward. Although due to the interference of that dying man, I cannot obtain her exact location or confirmation of whether this attempt will succeed. Regardless, what we must do is already very clear.”
The flying demon rose abruptly.
“Your subordinate is willing to lead troops there immediately!”
“No.”
But the Prophet only shook its head.
“This time we cannot make too much noise. I plan to send only a team of elite shadow demons to quietly bring the target back.”
“Shadow demons?” The demon’s voice carried some hesitation. “Can they manage it?”
“Trust them.”
The Prophet sighed.
“This is the safest and most reliable method. If necessary, they can also use ‘that thing.’ It can greatly slow down her speed and buy us enough time.”
The fully armored demon pondered for a moment before lowering its head again.
“Your subordinate… understands.”
“Understood?”
In the deep night, under the lamplight at the entrance of the small town’s tavern, the middle-aged adventurer pointed at the bag carried by Ed’s group and proudly showed it off to his companion.
“I told you long ago that with their strength, clearing that rundown kobold camp would be as easy as drinking water.”
“But what does that have to do with you?”
His companion replied, unconvinced.
“Well…”
The middle-aged adventurer’s eyes rolled.
“Of course it does! I was the one who recommended young Kelta and Sylvia to them!”
Perhaps because their names were mentioned, the two younger members walking at the back of the four-person group looked over.
“Uncle Leo!” The young adventurer waved the bag in his hand and called out loudly.
“See?” Leo spread his hands.
His companion waved his hand irritably, as if shooing away a bothersome fly.
“Go on, go on. Stop showing off in front of me. The youngsters are calling you. Hurry up and get over there.”
“Tch, you’re just jealous!”
Leo flicked his head stylishly and strode toward Ed’s group amid his companion’s resentful grinding of teeth.
“Little Kelta!” A smile bloomed on his face. “Looks like you had quite the harvest on this outing!”
The young adventurer smiled as well. “Yes, Uncle Leo! We wiped out over sixty kobolds, including one kobold priest!”
“Good, very good!”
Leo clapped his hands loudly in praise.
The iron plates on his gauntlets clashed together, producing a loud sound that drew the attention of passersby around them.
“Uncle! Don’t do that, it’s so embarrassing…” Kelta pulled at Leo somewhat awkwardly. “Besides, most of the enemies were actually taken care of by Mister Ed and his younger sister. Sylvia and I only provided support.”
“Don’t say that.”
Ed, who had been standing quietly to the side watching their interaction, spoke up.
The golden-haired youth held a large bag.
Faint traces of blood seeped through the fabric, dyeing the bottom of the bag a bloody red.
“Without the two of you, I wouldn’t have dared guarantee that we could make it out alive while facing the encirclement of over sixty kobolds at the same time.”
“Mister Ed is too modest.”
The young adventurer scratched the back of his head.
He recalled once more that terrifying hurricane that had nearly sliced the kobold priest into pieces.
Even now, remembering it, Kelta still felt a deep sense of awe at that power that could command nature itself.
And… envy.
“You and your sister are both mages. Against mere sixty-odd kobolds, even without me and Sylvia, you would surely have won.”
“M-Mages?! Two of them?!”
Leo jerked backward as if he had heard something unbelievable, his eyes wide with extreme shock.
He suddenly didn’t quite dare to look directly at the golden-haired youth and that mysterious girl.
“Sylvia, is this kid Kelta messing with me?” The middle-aged adventurer shifted his feet and asked the apothecary girl in a low voice.
“You’re from the city. Tell me honestly, are those two really mages?”
“It’s true, Uncle Leo,” the girl smiled. “I saw them cast spells with my own eyes. It was just like the mage lords I’ve seen at home.”
“Leo?” The golden-haired youth’s puzzled voice reached his ears.
“I’m right here. If there’s something you want to know, you can ask me directly.”
“How would I dare…”
Leo turned his head and answered with an awkward smile.
In his heart, he rapidly calculated whether he had offended the two “mage lords” before him.
Fortunately, he had no such memories.
The middle-aged adventurer breathed a heavy sigh of relief.