Chapter 673

The headless body of Prince Haral convulsed a couple of times, spouting fresh blood before collapsing on top of his family’s corpses.

It looked like a child sleeping in their mother’s embrace. Except, of course, both mother and child were now headless lumps of flesh.

The tragedy unfolded before I could even attempt to do anything.

“You bastard…!”

I bared my teeth and growled. With Haral dead, Ludwig’s grand plan had completely crumbled from its very foundation. Things had gone south in the worst possible way.

“Now, I am the only one left of the royal bloodline. The descendants of the great warrior Hogni, wiped out in a single day. What a tragedy!”

Ragnar burst into laughter, wiping his nephew’s blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. His shoulders shook with each laugh, causing the chainmail draped over his body to clatter incessantly.

“Look at you, talking big after killing them yourself. Your father must be weeping in the afterlife. He should’ve erased you before you were even born. He spared you because you were his son, and now this ungrateful wretch has crawled out.”

“Is that something you should be saying?”

“……”

Ragnar shut me up with a single retort, laughing. It was a laugh that mocked me, implying that I, too, was no better, considering I was about to commit patricide.

As someone with no blood relation to Or-han, it was unfair, but denying the label of a patricidal traitor would be pointless.

To prove I wasn’t a traitor, I’d have to reveal that I wasn’t Hersela but a separate soul inhabiting her body. That wasn’t something I could just blurt out.

“Anyway, it seems your and Ludwig’s grand plan to meddle in internal affairs has gone up in smoke. The puppet you were going to crown, our poor Haral’s head, is now…”

– *Crunch!*

“…gone.”

Ragnar stomped on Prince Haral’s head, crushing it.

Fragments of the skull scattered in all directions, and the flattened contents oozed out like crushed fruit pulp. An eyeball, popped out from the pressure, clung to my robe like a snail before slowly sliding off.

I brushed off Haral’s eyeball with my left hand and glared at Ragnar.

“…What’s your game? I thought you’d use Prince Haral as a hostage to escape.”

“I considered it. Until I saw you in person.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Seeing you face-to-face, I could see the murderous intent in your eyes. What use is a hostage against someone who’s determined to kill me no matter what?”

“……”

As Ragnar said, I had no intention of playing along with his hostage game.

I planned to engage in conversation, pretending to comply, while looking for an opening to pull Prince Haral away from his sword.

Even if I failed and lost the prince, I was determined to kill or capture Ragnar at all costs.

He figured that out just by looking at me. Sharp, isn’t he?

“Ah, I see. You’ve read my mind. Sharp and clever. Quite the capable one, aren’t you?”

I sneered and slightly lowered my stance. The plan to usurp the throne had failed. But that didn’t change what I had to do.

“As the King of Dane, this is just basic competence.”

So now he’s the King of Dane after killing all the other royals? Typical traitor mindset.

I glared at Ragnar, gauging his strength.

His build and voice were similar to the Eighth Apostle I’d faced in the game, but his equipment was entirely new.

The sword in his right hand was similar in size to the one-handed swords unique to Dane in the game, but it radiated an eerie, ominous aura that made it clear it was no ordinary weapon.

The blade, from tip to hilt, was made of a single piece of metal, emitting a crimson glow. The sides of the blade were engraved with intricate, wave-like patterns resembling intertwined serpents.

In his other hand, he held a circular shield adorned with exquisite platinum craftsmanship. It, too, was no ordinary shield, exuding an unusual magical energy.

In the game, he was confident enough in his strength to wield a plain steel sword, but here he’s decked out in national treasure-level gear.

Whether this would make things more complicated or simpler, I couldn’t tell yet. But I wasn’t about to lose.

“Then I guess all that’s left is for you to die, huh? You capable traitor, Ragnar. How do you plan to escape without a hostage?”

“Hmm… Do I even need to escape?”

Ragnar turned toward me, raising his shield defensively as he answered.

“Doesn’t Ludwig need the cooperation of the King of Dane? If I, Ragnar Lokan, as the King of Dane, abandon the plan to forge powerful runes with the lives of my people and swear full cooperation with the Empire… Ludwig would have no choice but to accept.”

It was a tempting offer, one that Ludwig would likely nod to.

With the original plan to use Haral as a puppet to annex Dane into the Empire now in ruins, Ludwig would need to achieve at least the strategic goal of mobilizing Dane’s army to attack Ka`har.

If he could move Dane’s forces, he’d probably tolerate a scumbag like Ragnar taking the throne instead of a young, weak puppet.

Of course, I wasn’t Ludwig.

“Ludwig might have accepted that. But the person standing before you isn’t Ludwig—it’s me. And I don’t trust your oaths.”

Am I crazy to trust the oath of an Apostle?

“If Ludwig was your only lifeline, you’d better just offer your neck quietly.”

“Do you think the King of Dane would break an oath made in his own name? What would be the point? Whether Ka`har wins or the Empire wins, Dane is doomed to ruin either way.”

Ragnar slightly bent his knees, shielding himself with his shield as he spoke.

“Hestein lost his judgment, obsessed with the potential of runes, but I know better. Even if you create powerful runes with tens of thousands of sacrifices, you can’t protect an entire nation with just one or two strong individuals. The fact that the Empire is faltering despite your existence is proof of that.”

His reasoning was rational enough. If someone else were in my place, they might have been persuaded.

But knowing his true nature, it was nothing but a disgusting lie to me.

“If you were the King of Dane, sure. Even if you usurped the throne by killing your kin, once you’re on the throne, you wouldn’t want your country to fall.”

“Then—”

“But as a cultist serving the Ancient Gods, it’s a different story, isn’t it? You, who offer chaos and death to your god, would welcome Dane’s destruction, wouldn’t you?”

For the first time since we started talking, Ragnar’s eyes shook violently.

“…A cultist? That’s a baseless accusation.”

Ragnar tried to deny it, but I was already certain of his true identity. The way his eyes wavered at the mention of the Ancient Gods’ cultists was all the confirmation I needed.

“The forgotten gods must be weeping. An Apostle, of all people, denying his own faith.”

Ragnar’s expression twisted, and his demeanor shifted entirely.

Until now, he had seemed like nothing more than an ambitious traitor, but the true Ragnar revealed the savage, menacing aura he had hidden beneath the facade of a Dane royal.

The pressure radiating from him surpassed even the Empire’s elite knights, causing the pool of blood at his feet to ripple like waves.

The identity of the Apostles was a closely guarded secret, not even revealed in the game. The fact that I had pinpointed it made him think I knew everything.

“…How did you know? I heard Paulus was exposed, but even he wouldn’t know the identities of the other Apostles.”

“Who knows? Use that clever head of yours to figure it out.”

I spun Durandal around, taunting him. Thanks to slowly closing the distance, I was now about ten steps away.

I gradually awakened the Feats of the Soul within me, gripping Durandal tightly.

“…Did the false god’s high priestess, Elpinel, tell you? She must really dote on her hunting dog. Even if you’re connected through a divine artifact, it would take immense power to convey her will to the mortal world.”

Wrong answer.

For all his confidence, he was completely off the mark.

Of course, I had no intention of correcting his misunderstanding.

“Whatever works!”

I smirked and shouted, unleashing the Power of Feats I had spread throughout my body into the world.

Reversed Heaven.

The world of colorless compressed time enveloped me.