Chapter 171

Chapter 172. Can You Feel the Difference in Power? (11)

In the reception room of the guest room.

Keter, who had taken a bite out of an apple from the fruit basket, wiggled his finger at Ayrus sitting in front of him.

“If you’re here, get to the point.”

“Is that all you want to ask me, Keter? Aren’t you curious why I set off the bomb, what the undead appearing in the city are, or anything like that?”

“I’m more curious why you think I’d care about that stuff.”

Ayrus spread his arms wide.

“It’s the outside world. Not the isolated Ruquer, but a world where billions live. A world where a homeland called Sephira exists. You want to protect that world, don’t you?”

“Huh?”

Keter, who had put down the apple he was eating, looked at Ayrus with a pitiful expression. Ayrus, in turn, turned his gaze outside the door and spoke.

“Pretending otherwise is pointless. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you cherish Sephira like a new toy?”

Keter’s brow furrowed. Not because Ayrus’s words were true, but because it felt oddly unpleasant to hear his brothers referred to as toys.

But he couldn’t understand why it bothered him, which only made him more annoyed.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s say that’s true. So what?”

“My goal is solely Lord Eslow. There’s no need for you and your toys to get involved. I’m proposing a mutually beneficial deal.”

“You want me to drop out of the individual tournament?”

“No need to be so blatant. Just don’t make it to the finals. Third place is enough. Take third, then leave the arena with your toys. You’ll naturally take first place.”

“Hey, Ayrus. Are you jealous of my brothers?”

“…I don’t know why you’re bringing that up.”

“You keep calling my brothers toys, like you’re jealous. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Jealous… Hehe, maybe. But Keter, am I wrong? You treat people like toys. You cherish them when they’re fun, then toss them aside when you’re bored.”

“When have I—”

Keter stopped mid-sentence and stroked his chin.

“Well, there was a time like that.”

“Are you going to deny you’ve changed?”

“Deny or not, I really have changed. It’s the truth.”

“People don’t change that easily.”

“Why are you so sure I changed easily, you filthy human discriminator?”

“Hah. Talking to you is always fun. But we need to reach a conclusion.”

Ayrus leaned forward, staring directly into Keter’s eyes, and whispered in a devilish voice.

“Keter. The Keter I know never does anything pointless. You’re not the type to play hero. If you truly value your family, there’s no reason to refuse my offer.”

A proposal hinging on the safety of the Triad—Mail, Anis, and Taragon.

Keter admitted it in his heart. He didn’t want his brothers—more like friends—to die. He wanted them to live.

So he would save them.

In his own way.

“Do you think the Keter you know would back down from something like that?”

“……”

A strange light flickered in Ayrus’s eyes.

The proposal just made wasn’t a simple one. It was laced with high-level dark magic, a power that endlessly stimulates and amplifies humanity’s primal fear.

But Keter overcame that fear. No, he transcended it.

Ayrus suddenly felt a pang of melancholy.

‘…I really am jealous.’

Not toys, but family.

Has Keter found a family?

‘I thought we were both loners.’

That’s why I tried to become his family.

But I was too clumsy, and in the end, I couldn’t. Honestly, I don’t know how things got to this point.

‘Tch. Stop messing with my heart, Keter.’

Though undead and without the need to breathe, Ayrus pretended to catch his breath and adjusted his posture.

“Keter. I wasn’t going to say this, but I have the Dark Document. The Wailing Dark Document. Remember? The power it holds. You experienced it once in Ruquer.”

As soon as the words “Wailing Dark Document” left his mouth, the fruits in the basket withered and lost their vitality.

Just the mere mention of its name affected the world—a bizarre artifact.

Keter tilted his head.

“So, your goal isn’t just to kill Eslow? The Dark Document is powerful, but it’s not enough to kill a Lord. At best, it’s a hindrance. Unless you’ve brought the ‘Dark Book’ itself.”

“Sharp. As you said, it can’t kill a Lord, but you know it can easily kill a Master, right?”

“But here’s the thing. Did you ever think I might spill this to Eslow and ruin your plans?”

“Hahaha!”

Ayrus laughed, shaking his head.

“Keter. If you were that petty, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place. I’m sure of that.”

“People don’t change easily, but they do change, you know?”

“Yeah. People change. But there are parts that don’t change. Keter, you’re not the type to break your pride for gain. That’s something that won’t change, no matter what. It’s who you are.”

“That’s a creepy compliment.”

Keter grimaced, rubbing his goosebump-covered arms.

Meanwhile, Ayrus laughed. How could he dislike Keter?

‘Even though we’re supposed to kill each other, the fact that we can talk so freely… That’s only possible with you, Keter.’

Ayrus suddenly felt like drinking. Though his undead body couldn’t get drunk, he felt like he might if he drank with Keter.

He wanted to spill everything. His plans, ambitions, desires. How he was resurrected, what deal he made with the Grand Duke.

‘Keter… He might understand. He might even cheer me on. Maybe even help. If our interests align.’

Genuinely, Ayrus felt the urge to confide everything in Keter—

‘But no, it’s impossible. It’s a contract.’

He couldn’t speak. Not because of mental barriers, but spiritual ones.

He had made a contract with the Grand Duke. A restriction was placed on his soul, preventing him from revealing anything about this matter.

“Wow, you’re making such a complicated face.”

Keter, quick to notice, pointed it out, and Ayrus chuckled.

“Negotiations are over. I’ll be going now.”

Ayrus didn’t get up. Instead, he began to sink into the shadows, chair and all.

Keter scratched the back of his head. Shadow travel is the fastest among teleportation magics. Yet Ayrus was moving as slowly as a snail.

It was regret. Lingering attachment. Keter didn’t fully understand or care what it was, but he couldn’t just watch someone act so pitifully.

“Hey, Ayrus.”

“Huh?”

Ayrus, already half-submerged in the shadows, lifted his head like a puppy.

“Whatever you’re after, kill in moderation.”

“Why are you saying that to me?”

“Because you’re making that clichéd villain face, like you want to destroy the world.”

“……!”

“If you try and it doesn’t work out, give up. That’s my sincere advice.”

“Pfft, telling me to try destroying the world… You’re really insane, Keter.”

“Well, just don’t die by my hand before that.”

“That might be for the best……”

Swoosh.

With a final, faint glimmer in his eyes, Ayrus disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Keter propped his legs up on the table.

“Hmm, so you’re going to use the ‘Wailing Dark Document’?”

Each Dark Document holds a special power. The Wailing Dark Document contains the power to expand a domain.

Namely, ‘Deep Dark Fantasy.’

The weakness of the undead is the sun. They cannot regenerate under sunlight. The domain ‘Deep Dark Fantasy’ not only compensates for that weakness but enhances it.

It dyes the surrounding area in darkness, creating the optimal environment for the undead.

Not only that, it completely blocks vision. A darkness that eyes cannot adapt to.

“Of course, Sephira’s eyes would have some immunity, but that’s not the issue.”

If the goal was just to create darkness, it would be a trivial prank.

“Ayrus probably plans to unleash the undead too.”

In Deep Dark Fantasy, even the weakest undead, mere skeleton soldiers, can wield the power of knights. If skeleton knights were unleashed in such a place, even a Master wouldn’t be able to handle it.

And it’s a stadium packed with tens of thousands of people. The chaos would be unimaginable.

“People are going to die like crazy.”

Keter, who didn’t care if hundreds or thousands of innocent citizens died, was concerned for another reason.

“My brothers would probably try to save them, right?”

Even in a situation where they couldn’t save themselves, they’d definitely try.

Saving others without any benefit is a foolish act. But he had a gut feeling his brothers would do just that.

“That’s a problem.”

Ayrus declared he’d hinder Eslow. He probably prepared not just skeleton knights but at least Death Knights.

Death Knights are high-tier undead, comparable to 6-star Grandmasters. Eslow could handle them while picking his nose, but they’d be too much for his brothers.

“Ugh.”

Keter groaned, holding his head with both hands.

“Protecting is much harder than killing.”

Then he suddenly smiled.

“That’s what makes it more fun.”

Facing undead enhanced by Deep Dark Fantasy is already a tough task. But on top of that, protecting his brothers?

“Ah, that’s going to be really tough.”

Though he said it would be tough, Keter’s face was smiling. He muttered under his breath.

“But my brothers need to be prepared too. They didn’t join the tournament just for fun.”

For his brothers’ growth and Sephira’s reputation, Keter decided to set the stage.

* * *

Keter didn’t reveal Ayrus’s plan to Eslow.

But he did inform his party of the details.

“…We need to tell the Lord immediately.”

Mail’s reaction was expected.

Tens of thousands of citizens and hundreds of nobles would be gathered. If a terrorist attack was announced there, who could possibly be okay with that?

Anis and Taragon also nodded in agreement.

But Keter shook his head.

“You guys don’t want innocent people to die, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then we need to pretend we don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Ayrus has pinpointed the stadium as his target. It’s not just because the stadium is within range. If he wanted, he could plunge the entire city into darkness. If that happens, not tens of thousands, but hundreds of thousands would become targets for the undead.”

“Even if that’s true, can’t we prevent the domain from being activated beforehand? The Lord could probably do that.”

“Keter, I can’t understand you. Even if we can’t prevent it as Taragon said, we can still prepare. There are thousands of knights gathered in this city. Whether they can prepare in advance or not makes a big difference.”

“Do you guys think I’m just standing by?”

The Triad didn’t affirm, but they didn’t deny it either.

Catherine, who had been quietly listening, cautiously spoke up.

“Master Keter isn’t that heartless. I think… he’s trying to maintain a controllable situation.”

“A controllable situation…?”

“Yes. So, that Ayrus person told Master Keter in advance what he plans to do. But if Master Keter reveals that to others and prevents the plan from being executed, Ayrus might act unpredictably. A predictable event becomes unpredictable.”

“……!”

Catherine’s sharp analysis widened the Triad’s eyes. Keter also looked at her with a somewhat impressed expression.

“Brothers, take a page from Catherine’s book. It’s not perfect, but that’s roughly my point.”

“But, Master Keter. Honestly, I’m not sure if your plan is the right one. I’m sorry. When I think about the lives of so many people… preparing in advance might save more lives.”

“……”

The Triad also nodded with heavy expressions.

In fact, their reaction was normal and realistic. Tens of thousands of lives were at stake. In the face of such a problem, only two types of people could judge based on efficiency.

Heroes or madmen.

Keter didn’t fully understand his party’s feelings, but he roughly understood, so he wasn’t frustrated.

“Do you all regret it? Would it have been easier if I hadn’t told you? Should I not tell you next time?”

“That’s not it.”

“If you had kept it to yourself, we’d have been even more disappointed.”

“It’s hard to handle, but it’s better than not knowing.”

“Then you have to take responsibility. Those who hold something in their hands must take responsibility for it. If you hold nothing, there’s nothing to take responsibility for, but if you hold something, you must take responsibility.”

“……”

“Is it right to kill 1,000 to save 100? Or to kill 100 to save 1,000? Can you guys answer that?”

“……”

“There’s no path where everyone survives. Trying not to lose only leads to greater loss.”

A heavy silence fell. After a while, Anis broke the silence, looking at Keter.

“Keter, you could do it, couldn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re strong. You could… save everyone without letting them die.”

“Hmm… Not wrong.”

As Keter affirmed, the party’s expressions brightened. But Keter’s next words were far from hopeful.

“But that just shifts the loss to me. I’d lose something precious. Sacrificing something of mine to save people I have no connection to. Is that what you want?”

“That’s… not it.”

“That last bit was frustrating. It reeked of ‘Isn’t it more valuable to save people even if we lose something?'”

“……”

Silence again. A heavy atmosphere flowed between them. Seeing no progress, Keter shook his head.

“Why did I tell you the truth, knowing it would come to this? Ah, I wanted you to agree. I wanted you to empathize with my intentions and follow along.”

Keter asked himself, then answered himself.

Thud.

Keter got up from his chair and opened the window.

If someone else had opened the window, you’d think they were airing out the room, but the party here knew. Keter used windows like doors.

“Keter, you’re not—”

“You’re not going out into this night, are you?”

Despite the brothers’ protests, Keter stepped onto the windowsill.

“I’m a bit disappointed, so I don’t feel like seeing your faces. I must have overestimated you guys.”

Hearing Keter’s overly honest feelings, the Triad couldn’t find the words to respond.

“If you leave like this, what are we supposed to do?”

Mail, suppressing his shame, tried to stop Keter with his words—

“Do as you please.”

With those final words, Keter leaped out the window.

This was the task Keter had given his brothers.

Being strong isn’t just about being good at defeating and killing opponents.

To be truly strong, one must be strong not just in body but in spirit. You must be able to act under mental pressure. You must act, even if it means shedding tears.

Only those who have fallen know how to rise.

Even if you fail, that failure is also a lesson.

Through this incident, Keter wanted his brothers to grow, whether they succeeded or failed.

The brothers, unaware of Keter’s grand plan, were likely to misunderstand him in a negative way.

Keter, of course, knew this. Teaching them this way might make them dislike him.

‘Well, that’s how the world is.’

Keter preferred strong brothers who might dislike him over weak brothers who relied entirely on him.

And so, a week passed.

The team tournament ended, and the preparation period for the individual tournament flew by in the blink of an eye.

The city was as lively and full of anticipation as if nothing had happened. Tens of thousands of spectators flocked to the stadium. The stands were packed to the brim.

The Southern Sword Tournament, the final match.

The grand finale of the long tournament.

The individual tournament had begun.