Chapter 163

“This is quite impressive.”

Despite merely burying a single branch in the sand, this alone transforms the surrounding area into a demonic realm.

Delica, dressed in blue insignia, narrowed her sunset-like eyes.

With an unusually weighty and dark gaze for a girl her age, she meticulously observed the landscape conjured by the crimson branch as if it were magic or even a miracle.

The small branch soon becomes a tiny tree.

And from there, deep red thorny vines hang profusely.

The area around the small tree planted in the ground distinctly carries a reddish and murky atmosphere.

As though this space itself is uniquely different from its surroundings.

“It won’t be easy to endure with just a human body.”

From behind, Cain appeared, leaving footprints in the sand. He looked like marble carved into a pale statue.

When he spoke, Delica snorted.

“You should withstand it through sheer mental strength.”

“The young body you have now is drastically different from before, isn’t it? If endurance and tolerance are involved, that’s not purely a matter of willpower, is it?”

“You talk too much. Would anything bad happen if we just push through?”

And just as Cain had feared, a creeping discomfort slowly enveloped Delica’s entire body, causing her lips to quiver.

“I remember the Demon Realm being an incredibly rational world.”

“It’s become another form of hell now.”

A boundless prison where pain roams unchecked, inhabited by beings who endure or wander aimlessly.

“There is no high or low in misfortune, nor in suffering.”

If everyone suffers equally, isn’t the world finally equal and fair?

For those who bear suffering well, give them more pain.

To those who can’t endure, give them only the minimum amount.

And to those who endure much, grant them more rights and privileges.

Punishment as retribution when they stray from reason.

Grant respite to those who sacrifice themselves wholeheartedly.

Evil brings greater suffering, and good receives no exception.

The sin of idly watching evil.

The sin of yielding to evil and being violated.

The sin of worshiping and submitting to evil.

The lazy.

The negligent.

The complacent.

The cowards. The traitors. The criminals. The hypocrites. The wicked. The weak.

Nature itself isn’t equal or uniform.

That’s why hierarchies and disparities exist.

Desires and conflicts, hatred, disdain, frustration—all arise because of these distinctions.

So let everything be tainted by suffering.

In the moments when life is consumed by pain, all living things are truly equal and uniform.

“That wouldn’t have been possible without such principles.”

The Demon King obtains the right to devour the Demon Realm through something called the “law of reason.”

Whether used selfishly or selflessly, it’s entirely up to the Demon King.

If you don’t like it, overthrow him.

If you do, simply remain loyal.

Still, Cain added regretfully:

“The golden ratio of governance under the previous ruler, the Demon King of Wisdom, was harsh but far superior by civilized standards… Order was firm, and everyone followed discipline.”

From simple technology to convenient facilities.

The Demon Realm thrived on the principles established by the Demon King of Wisdom and the Grand Demon King, transcending barbarism to reach a high level of civilization.

And then…

Their lord destroyed it all.

The current Demon Realm has reached its end times.

“Trade and contracts. Mutual respect and lawful relationships. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Power dynamics and always-fragile imbalances.”

All these intricately connect like the spokes of a wheel.

And since they’re tied together by the law of reason, individuals and groups couldn’t dismantle this structure.

Cain sighed bitterly.

“All of it became useless.”

“Ultimately, those who followed the Demon King of Wisdom to the Middle Realm… are they the final victors?”

“Maybe he foresaw this outcome.”

Unmoved, Delica nodded slightly at Cain’s words.

“Everyone makes choices eventually.”

In the end, only your choices and their consequences remain.

Those left in the Demon Realm now face rightful retribution for past decisions.

I’m not saying following the Demon King of Wisdom was always right.

But if the result is this disastrous… what can you do? You must endure it.

Otherwise…

…One of you could’ve become the Demon King earlier, couldn’t you?

Leaving their lord’s position vacant until he became the Demon King is undoubtedly your fault.

If you feel wronged, trace it back.

“They’re coming.”

Space tears apart.

A fiery woman emerges, tearing through the rift in space.

With mature beauty and starlit eyes, she gazes piercingly at Delica and Cain.

That’s all.

Soon, her dark gauntlets stain her hands pitch black, spreading to engulf her elbows.

Not just that—her legs, feet, lower body, upper body.

Beyond that, a shadowy aura engulfs her entire being.

!!!

The sound of metal grinding, scraping, and crushing echoes chillingly.

Her once-mature physique collapses as if forcibly compressed.

She crumples to the ground, reduced to a girl.

Her starlit eyes, once like a crimson comet, now dim into stagnant blood-red hues.

She gasps for breath, but only briefly.

It’s not the kind of panting caused by intense emotion or pain.

It’s more like the shallow breathing after a brisk run.

….

Watching her catch her breath silently, Delica sighs softly.

“Lucesia.”

….

The surroundings have transformed into a vividly crimson world.

Forming unstable currents akin to the Demon Realm.

The Demon Realm’s sky is red; at dusk, the world turns purple, and only when light completely fades does it turn pitch black.

“Did he escape?”

….

Silence.

Still, Delica nods.

“Did he flee?”

Cain clicks his tongue upon observing this.

“How are you communicating?”

“…Do I look like I know?”

Delica’s dismissive sniff causes Cain to fall silent.

The red-haired, red-eyed girl trapped in pitch-black armor.

Even as Lucesia, the Demon King herself, mutters faintly, flickers her eyes dimly, and fidgets restlessly, Delica appears to understand her fully.

“Carriel. Did he understand what you said? How?”

“…Feels similar to the worries I have about our leader.”

Cain chuckles harmlessly, but Delica ignores him cleanly.

“Anyway, you said there’s something to gain here, right? We might as well find him while we’re at it.”

“What if meddlers get involved?”

Though Cain pointed it out just in case, Delica showed no particular concern.

“When has anything gone smoothly? Never happened to me.”

“True.”

Expecting no obstacles or interference is both luxury and negligence.

The world inherently demands breaking down, pushing aside, and toppling something to achieve anything.

“Taking something from someone else is inevitable when you act. Nothing new about that.”

Whether it’s a simple possession or a lifetime opportunity—or perhaps even the one life and meaningless dignity—it’s all the same.

Just as those who desire strive forward.

This principle might very well be the world’s most straightforward solution.

Trees are cut and broken because they cannot defend themselves.

Nor can we deny that trees exist to sacrifice themselves.

Thus, humans and intelligent beings are truly arrogant creatures.

Ungrateful and unaware of privilege, they enjoy these blessings effortlessly, as if breathing or drinking water.

And when it comes to human versus human, intelligent being versus intelligent being, the same hierarchy applies.

We’ve always been victims. You’ve always been perpetrators.

That’s why I believe this world should collapse. Its foundation is flawed.

“He’s already shown his power. Next time, he’ll likely prepare.”

Then, let’s approach differently next time.

“Let’s try talking. If there’s any conflict or agreement between us, moving toward what each side wants might work.”

Moreover, thoughts of Carriel bring various things to mind.

There are many doubts lingering.

He may not be evil, but biases shouldn’t persist. People can easily cross between good and evil depending on circumstances and perspectives.

….

Also, regarding what I saw just before leaving the King of Faceulan’s castle…

Even if this place, this world, isn’t the past of the original world Carriel mentioned…

If she remains silent about it…

Perhaps…

…No. This expectation might also be futile.

Hope never ends once you start nurturing it.

Unless you intend to live dreaming forever.

Cut it off. Sever it.

Unnecessary hope ultimately leads only to disappointment.

It’s the most useless vice that breaks will and motivation.

====

Floundering in the Poisonous River.

Opening and closing her eyes repeatedly.

For over a week, Partyna endured torment.

How did it come to this?

Resistance buried deep beneath the pain hasn’t completely collapsed yet.

Though knightly honor and self-respect mean little at this point.

She underwent training to resist pain, but the symptoms she’s experiencing transcend dimensions.

One day feels like being burned alive.

Another day feels like being submerged in freezing river water while still alive.

She senses her muscles tearing and shattering.

Sometimes her head feels like it’s splitting open, other times her heart aches, her lungs hurt, her insides twist, and her gums and teeth feel like dozens of thick needles have pierced them. All sorts of pain gnaw away at her body and spirit.

In this state, she hasn’t properly swallowed anything for a while.

She knows people are attending to her, but she lacks the leisure to confirm their faces or conditions.

When her vision suddenly turned pitch black, she feared losing sight, but even that worry got overshadowed by the pain.

At times, sensation vanished from her arms and legs.

Breathing felt suffocating, and she feared drowning as if her airway were blocked.

At such moments, her body and mind were almost at their breaking point.

But then, the pain disappeared as if washed away.

Only then could she finally close her eyes in peace.

She opened her eyes two days later.

It was several days after she had collapsed.

====

“It wasn’t a simple curse.”

Partyna lying in bed. Hermine, monitoring her steady breathing, finally exhaled a breath of relief—not quite, but close enough.

“…”

Ruelde slid the Sacred Sword back into its scabbard.

“How about you?”

“…I’m fine. Manageable.”

Hermine suffered from the same severe curse after sustaining critical injuries.

Yet, her ability to endure stemmed from her extraordinary patience. A life accustomed to hardship and pain made her resilient.

But this ordeal was genuinely tough.

That’s why she secretly summoned Ruelde urgently.

“Even without physical or internal wounds, falling victim to this would have shattered one’s mind. Either death from pain or giving up on life altogether.”

While enduring this, Hermine continued to bless the land, ensuring the spirits of those around her weren’t broken.

Had it been a simple curse, she could’ve resolved everything on her own.

But this was something different.

Had it been death from external or internal injuries, reviving them wouldn’t have been difficult for Hermine if she were unharmed.

However, this wasn’t that kind of situation.

All she could do was prevent physical collapse due to mental breakdown, which was the best she could manage at the time.

“Can’t divine power resolve an incurable curse? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Not sure. But given how your power worked, my guess is it’s connected to divine forces.”

“…”

Ruelde’s expression grew complicated.

Apparently, separating from Geoffrey and Hamren during the journey wasn’t the right move after all.

Still, although expected, who’d have thought they’d target so openly?

Moreover, aiming not at the emperor but at them…

“It wasn’t aimed at you.”

“What?”

Seemingly reading his rigid expression, Hermine pinpointed the core issue.

“It wasn’t me… It was Elimiun. They targeted that child.”

“Why… specifically?”

Were they trying to take hostages? Or targeting relatives because they couldn’t touch me directly? What advantage were they seeking? Could it be revenge? Retaliation? Out of grudges? If so, whose…?

“Hmm.”

“You don’t look well. You’ve suffered enough. Let me handle the rest… Why don’t you rest first?”

Realizing too late that he overlooked the most pressing matter, Ruelde scolded himself inwardly. Supporting Hermine, who sat trembling despite not sleeping for days while guarding the quarantine zone, he lowered his posture to assist her.

The quarantine was necessary because the pain partially spread.

Thinking it might be an unknown contagious disease or poisoning initially, the empire had no choice but to agonize over the situation.

“…”

“Not going to ask?”

Ruelde’s expression darkened, as if expecting rebuke, but Hermine replied quietly.

“Do I even have the right to ask?”

Exhausted eyes, sweat streaming down her face, she sighed lightly.

Watching her, Ruelde forcibly lifted her. He guided her toward the remaining bed, intending to lay her down.

Just as he placed her gently on the bed, Hermine clutched his arm with both of hers.

“It’s strange. Despite all the unbearable pain… thinking of that child brought some relief, didn’t it?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“My sins causing so much agony and hardship… oddly enough, it gave me some solace. Truly. I didn’t lie. I never realized I could endure this much. Maybe, if I suffer this much, that child might suffer less, might endure less. I know it’s unlikely, but still, maybe?”

An attitude hard to distinguish between self-deprecation or lamentation.

Trying to smile despite everything, her lips and the corners of her eyes droop naturally.

Her pale skin and bloodshot eyes reveal the immense hardships she endured, but even now, her eyes swirl with various emotions.

In a feeble voice, she whispered:

“…I’m sorry to everyone.”

“I’ll do something… Rest for now.”

Holding the semi-conscious Hermine, laying her gently on the bed, Ruelde took several deep breaths.

Then, using a cloth, he wiped her sweat-drenched face.

Once outside the quarantine room, Ruelde informed the waiting attendants that the curse issue was resolved.

Hardly waiting for his announcement to finish, royal maids and several church deaconesses entered to care for the patients inside.

“We’re fortunate it wasn’t delayed.”

“Knight Medrin.”

Surprisingly emotional relief lingers in his usually stoic tone.

“Why stay here instead of returning?”

“If there’s progress, shouldn’t we monitor it just in case?”

Long-distance teleportation consumes immense stamina, especially over greater distances.

Ideally, it should be done through relay stations to minimize mana and stamina usage—but even then, this trip was long. Essentially, they traveled from the eastern edge of the continent to the west.

Normally, long-distance travel involves rotating multiple horses, similarly structured for instant long-range teleportation—but due to the need for secrecy, he came personally.

Round trip, no less, and yet he remained standing tall.

His skill speaks volumes.

“I heard you volunteered enthusiastically for support.”

“Lady Hermine’s grace is boundless like the sea. This is nothing.”

Showboating.

Ruelde playfully patted his shoulder and suggested,

“Take a break. I’ll handle the rest.”

“In that case, I’ll gladly accept.”

Saluting, he moved away while Ruelde kept his eyes on him until he disappeared.

For a while, Ruelde stood near the entrance of the quarantine room.

Observing the bustling figures inside through the door, he needed time to sort through the jumble in his mind.

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