Glory was a Demonic Sword granted to Gavid Lindman by the Demon King of Incarceration himself, earning him the title of Sword of Incarceration. It was said to be the only sword capable of withstanding the power of Vermouth’s Moonlight Sword, which could emit a blinding light that could obliterate anything in its path.

Gavid Lindman had hardly used Glory for the past three hundred years. However, despite being left untouched for a long time, the blade never lost its sharp edge. Even so, Gavid would clean and sharpen the blade of his favorite sword every night, always desiring to maintain it in its perfect condition. This particular night was no exception, and in fact, he had a greater desire to sharpen his blade tonight.

As Gavid sat in his room, he thought back to his encounter with Molon just a few hours ago. The intense fighting spirit that Molon exuded sent a pleasant chill down Gavid’s back as he recalled the events. It brought to mind memories of the battles he had fought three hundred years ago, and Gavid couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over him.

‘Just a little bit,’ thought Gavid while straightening his pitch-black sword.

He remembered the dull glow of Molon’s eyes. Three hundred years was not short, even by the standards of the demonfolks, and it was an extremely long period of time for humans. Gavid couldn’t help but reflect on how time wore down even the strongest of humans. Just as rocks erode under the forces of nature, humans, too, are incapable of escaping the ravages of time. No matter how strong and excellent a human was, they would be worn out by the passage of time, even Molon.

‘I had been looking forward to it.’

Gavid recalled the disappointment he felt when Molon did not immediately engage him in battle despite his manic demeanor. After three hundred years of isolation, Gavid had expected Molon’s madness to manifest as violent aggression, but he had been proven wrong. Instead, Molon hurled insults and taunts at Gavid but made no move to draw his weapon. It was a far cry from their past battles, where they had clashed in a frenzied dance of death. 𝘳𝑎.𝗇t

“He’s human, but he is unlike the other humans.”

Gavid Lindman stared at the black blade that devoured all light, muttering to himself about Molon Ruhr. Unlike other humans, there was something special about him. Molon’s energy had ignited Gavid’s fighting spirit, and he had eagerly anticipated a battle with him. But it had been for naught; Molon had insulted him but hadn’t unsheathed his weapon. Disappointed, Gavid had no choice but to take out his sword and appease his desire for a fight. The Demonic Sword Glory was a gift from the Demon King of Incarceration, and Gavid honored it by taking care of it. Whenever he felt the urge to let loose, he would sharpen and wipe his blade, as he did now.

Glory had a calming effect on Gavid Lindman’s inner turmoil, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Molon had something similar. It wasn’t quite a sense of kinship, but Gavid couldn’t shake off the memory of Molon’s fierce eyes as he approached the fortress from across the snowfield. They had burned with the fury of a wild beast ready to tear apart its prey. But as soon as Molon had arrived at the gate, his aggression had dissipated like a gust of wind. It was a strange shift, and Gavid couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the anticipated battle with Molon hadn’t come to fruition.

‘Was it because his descendants were watching? Or… was it because he saw an Imitation Incarnation that looked exactly like Anise Slywood? If not that either, is it because he felt the blood of Vermouth Lionheart?’ Gavid continued to muse.

Despite not sharing a physical resemblance, Eugene Lionheart possessed a brilliance and talent that was reminiscent of his ancestor, Vermouth Lionheart. It was a gift few humans could boast about and one that had propelled Vermouth to great heights, enabling him to become a Hero and reach the Demon Kings. Even Eugene knew that he had inherited this gift from his ancestor, and he would one day reach similar heights. The same blood that had flowed in Vermouth’s veins now coursed through Eugene’s, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before he, too, would rise to become the Hero.

Molon would have also felt the blood flowing in Eugene Lionheart’s veins. After all, he had fought together with Vermouth in the past.

Either way, Gavid felt it was a pity. If Molon had caved into his madness and attacked him, it would have given Gavid the justification to fight against him.

“Don’t just stand there. Come in,” said Gavid while putting Glory back into its sheath. The flap unfurled, and Amelia Merwin smiled on the other side of the entrance.

“Isn’t this a bit too shabby to be the quarters of Helmuth’s Duke?” asked Amelia.

“This is not my territory, is it?” countered Gavid.

“If you wish, they will give you a castle. Or would you prefer I build a castle for you?” said Amelia.

“You’re still as rude as always.” Gavid couldn’t help but smile at Amelia’s usual rudeness. She had a habit of referring to everyone as you, regardless of their rank or status, except for the Demon King of Incarceration, whom she addressed with the proper title. Gavid had always found it amusing, but he knew better than to let his guard down with her. After all, if Amelia had dared to disrespect the Demon King, Gavid would have been the first to strike her down.

“It’s a pleasant and grateful offer, but I will have to refuse. I am feeling comfortable enough in this tent,” Gavid refused with a smile.

Amelia let out a soft snort as she heard Gavid’s response. Without a word, a dark shadow rose up from beneath her and took the shape of a chair. She gracefully took a seat in front of Gavid and crossed her legs, her sharp gaze fixed on him.

“I see you still have poor taste,” Gavid said snidely.

Hemoria, who stood behind Amelia with a bone in her mouth, glared at the back of Amelia’s head with a murderous look and let out ragged breaths. However, when she made eye contact with Gavid, she flinched and shrank back as if afraid of something.

“A mixture of many things,” Gavid continued as he took a closer look at Hemoria, noticing the crimson shade of her eyes and the sharpness of her teeth. She was holding a bone in her mouth, and there was something about her that didn’t seem quite human. Despite her outward appearance, there was an otherworldly quality to her existence that set her apart. He knew that she wasn’t human.

“Do you still obsess over those kinds of existences?” Gavid asked Amelia.

“Did you forget I hate that question?” retorted Amelia.

“Ah, how rude of me. It’s just been so long since I’ve last seen you. Has it been seventy years since we last met?” asked Gavid.

Amelia’s words carried a mysterious tone as she smiled at Gavid. Her gaze swept over Hemoria’s legs, seemingly finding amusement in her presence. “I may have forgotten the distant past,” she said, “but why don’t you ask me why I’ve come?”

“I have known you for two hundred years. Although I have not seen you as often as I have known you, I know you are a very vicious wizard. If I may guess based on this fact, I think you are here to ask me to join you in a malicious plan,” responded Gavid.

Amelia nonchalantly relayed the purpose of her visit, her shoulders lifting and dropping in a shrug. “They’re planning to incorporate monsters into their joint training. Aroth and Nahama’s wizards will be handling the summoning, but I figured I’d lend a hand and summon a few myself.”

“Is that so?” said Gavid.

“If you invest just a little bit of mana, I can create a very enjoyable, entertaining mess here. What do you think? I think you might have fun with it,” said Amelia.

Gavid gave a slight chuckle and nodded his head in agreement. “That’s certainly an interesting proposition, Amelia,” he said, looking at her with a curious expression. “But I’m afraid I have to decline. While I’m personally intrigued by the idea of the chaos you plan to create, I know that His Majesty the Demon King would not approve of such a venture.”

“After coming all this way?” said Amelia.

“I did not come to the north to lend you strength. I simply wanted to see the Hero and the Saint in person. Didn’t you expect me to give you such an answer?” responded Gavid.

Amelia did not deny his accusation, and her smile did not falter at Gavid’s rejection. She had expected it, after all. Her proposition was not made earnestly. Even if she were to summon a legion of savage monsters, the combined might of the Knight March would easily overpower them.

‘If you’re unwilling to help, there’s no reason for me to go ahead with the plan.’

She immediately gave up on her lingering feelings.

Amelia leaned forward, her eyes focused intently on Gavid. “Let me ask you something else,” she said. “I’m sure you may have expected this somewhat, but there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. The same reason why I was stuck in that sandy desert.” Her tone was serious, and it was clear that whatever she was about to say was important to her.

“Are you worried that I might intervene?” asked Gavid.

“No other duke would intervene except you. Noir Giabella will have a lot of fun watching, and so will Raizakia, that dragon. But you’re the Sword of Incarceration, right? If I do something to break the peace that the Demon King of Incarceration wants…” said Amelia.

“His Majesty respects the freedom of his servants,” responded Gavid.

He did not know exactly what Amelia was up to, but he knew she had prepared for a long time. He also knew that the Demon King of Incarceration wasn’t irrelevant to the matter.

Amelia Merwin wasn’t the only one like this. All three Mages of Incarceration had directly signed contracts with the Demon King of Incarceration. Edmund Codreth and Balzac Ludbeth also shared similar desires as wizards, which Gavid considered highly presumptuous and arrogant. Despite this, the Demon King of Incarceration did not restrict the mages in their aspirations. On the contrary, he granted them unrestricted freedom to pursue their goals and even provided material assistance to achieve them.

“I do not know what you are trying to achieve. His Majesty would know, but he has not ordered me to stop you,” said Gavid.

“I would like you to tell me for sure that you won’t come to kill me no matter what I do,” said Amelia.

“That’s not something for me to decide. If… whatever you do goes overboard and His Majesty becomes heartbroken and orders me to bring your head, I will have no other choice but to obey his order.”

It wasn’t the answer Amelia was hoping for, but she understood it was the best answer she could hope for from the Sword of Incarceration. As such, she pursued it no further and nodded in understanding.

“I will not be giving such an order.”

Amelia had been ready to depart from the tent, as there was nothing more to discuss. But just as she was about to leave, a voice emanated from the shadows under the light, stopping her in her tracks. The voice contained no significant presence or weight. It was simply a voice. However, Gavid and Amelia knew very well who the voice belonged to.

The two immediately jumped from their seats with pale expressions while Hemoria tilted her head with confusion, unable to understand why they were acting so flustered.

“I do not want to trample on your efforts and hard work,” the voice continued.

An eye opened in the darkness. There was still no presence to be felt, but unlike the voice, the eye caused Hemoria to fall to the floor unconscious with just a gaze. However, Amelia could not turn her eyes away from the eye.

“Your Majesty! Why have you come to such a shabby place…!?” said Gavid, bowing deeply and respectfully.

He was used to hearing the voice of the Demon King of Incarceration coming down from the top floor of Babel. However, it had been a very long time since Gavid last felt the existence of the Demon King of Incarceration and was faced with his eye. It made Gavid tremble with ecstasy.

“I am not here to scold you,” said the Demon King of Incarceration. His eye was the only thing visible in the darkness.

Amelia clenched her fist while trembling. “Then…. Are you here to rebuke me?” she asked.

“I have told you already. I do not wish to trample on your hard work and effort,” responded the Demon King.

Gavid and Amelia stayed silent at this confirmation.

“If your long-cherished wish comes true, you will have great honor. But if you fail, you will have to pay the price. Amelia Merwin, all of my servants have signed the same contract, including you. Have you forgotten?” asked the Demon King.

“How could I have forgotten? After all, you are providing me with as much mana as I want,” responded Amelia.

The contract she had with the Demon King of Incarceration was simple but powerful. Amelia could receive as much mana from the Demon King of Incarceration as she desired. However, this power was not something to be taken lightly, as even those who had a contract with the Demon King could easily be destroyed by his immense power. Thankfully, Amelia was able to adjust the amount of power she received, allowing her to obtain just the right amount at the right time without overwhelming her. She wasn’t the only one with this ability, as all three Mages of Incarceration were capable of doing the same.

When one made a pact with a demon, there was always a price to be paid. The most common currency for such deals was one’s soul in exchange for power. As soon as the contractee perished, their soul would be the property of the demon they made a pact with. The contract between Amelia and the Demon King of Incarceration was no different. Amelia was aware that when her time came to pass, her soul would be surrendered to the Demon King.

That wasn’t all.

The Demon Kings were unique beings whose power thrived on worship. Just as faith and worship in a god made them divine, similarly, the awe and worship of the Demon Kings increased their power and made them who they were. It was this fundamental difference that set the Demon Kings apart from other demonfolks. The Demon King of Incarceration thrived on fear. The very mention of his name was enough to strike terror in the hearts of people, and their reverence towards his existence only increased his power. For the Demon King, fear was a sweet nectar, a different kind of worship that only served to strengthen his hold on the Devildom of Helmuth.

As such, if Amelia ran wild to fulfill her long-cherished goal, the world would come to know of her name and her identity as the black wizard who was contracted with the Demon King of Incarceration. The fear it would strike into the hearts of the humans would be transformed into the power of the Demon King of Incarceration. And once Amelia died, the soul of the black wizard who struck fear into the hearts of many would be added to the Demon King of Incarceration’s collection. He would gain the great power she accumulated and the fear she represented.

Amelia shuddered at the mere thought of such a fate befalling her. The image of her soul being owned by the Demon King, as was the case with all black wizards who had made contracts with demons, was enough to make her blood run cold. She was not alone in her fear; every black wizard knew the horror of having their soul taken away. Death offered no comfort to those who had made such pacts, and that was why so many of them desperately sought to change their fate. Amelia was no exception to this rule.

“Is Molon here?” muttered the Demon King.

Boooom!

As soon as he finished speaking, a great force blew away Gavid’s tent. But the only thing that flew away was the tent. It was the result of Gavid immediately erecting a spell to protect the space.

“Unthinkable!” Gavid bellowed, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword.

His rage was palpable, a seething, simmering force that threatened to spill over at any moment. Yet, he did not draw his blade. The Demon King of Incarceration had not given the order, and Gavid knew better than to act without his ruler’s command. Still, the sheer weight of his fury was enough to fill the air, suffocating all those present.

Before anyone knew it, the Black Fog flocked behind Gavid, and once the fog lifted, the demon knights were kneeling in unison. Located within a tendril of darkness was a crimson eye. None of the Black Fog Knights had ever encountered the Demon King of Incarceration, but they instinctively knew who the eye and the darkness belonged to.

“Molon Ruhr,” said the voice from within the darkness.

The eye rolled, and Molon raised himself straight. He had come straight from the top of the fortress castle. He had been drinking happily with Eugene and Anise until just seconds ago, but his mind was completely clear right now. The only things occupying him were great hatred and the will to kill.

“Incarceration…!” Molon spat out the Demon King’s name as if it were poison, his lips twisted in a snarl of hatred and fury.

He was the first to arrive, but others soon followed, drawn by his fierce determination and unwavering resolve. Eugene landed behind Molon, wreathed in purple flames that danced and flickered around him like a living thing. His eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, matching Molon’s own in their unwavering focus. Anise landed gracefully behind the two men, her Wings of Light unfurled behind her like a halo of pure radiance.

“I do not wish to cause a disturbance,” the voice spoke, and the darkness writhed in response.

Soon, others began to gather. The first to arrive were the Blood Cross Knights of the Yuras Empire, their armor clanging and their weapons at the ready. Raphael was in the lead, and he drew his greatsword upon seeing the darkness and the red eye before springing into the air as if ready to strike.

“Stop!” shouted Anise.

The cry contained a great deal of divine power, and it caused Raphael to stop in midair. Raphael looked up at Anise with an astonished expression, then gave a slight nod before putting down his greatsword.

The Blood Cross Knights faced off against the Black Fog, and soon, members of the Lionheart family and Kiehl’s White Dragon Knights arrived. The knights, who were continuing to increase in number, surrounded the Black Fog to prevent them from escaping.

But that’s only what it looked like on the surface. Eugene glared at the darkness while clenching his fists.

Soon, the kings of the continent began to arrive, each with their own unique reactions.

The Pope of Yuras gasped in pain as he clutched his chest, blood seeping from his Stigmata, despite not having summoned any miracles.

The Emperor of Kiehl’s bloodshot eyes remained fixed on the darkness, but his body betrayed him, his legs trembling uncontrollably as his instincts kicked in. Despite this, he stood tall, refusing to let his fear show, but only barely. Even though the opponent was his equal, the emperor of an empire, he was also the Demon King who reigned for an extremely long period. In particular, the Demon King of Incarceration was special and more powerful, even among the Demon Kings. The authorities of the emperors were meaningless in the face of the Demon King of Incarceration’s overwhelming power.

“I do not want to be misunderstood,” murmured the Demon King of Incarceration.

The darkness suddenly wriggled.

Ahhhh!

Gavid shouted in a voice filled with awe and kneeled on the spot. Amelia could not stand any longer as well. As arrogant as she was, she could not help but kneel.

“I am not here to break my promise.” The Demon King’s voice echoed in the air, and the darkness took the shape of a human form, revealing the Demon King of Incarceration. His bloodless pale skin and ruby-red eyes were striking, and his beauty was undeniable. The Demon King of Incarceration continued while caressing the horn on his head, “If you are misunderstanding my visit and are wary towards me, I hope to resolve the misunderstanding.”

Molon glared at the Demon King of Incarceration with bloodshot eyes and spoke, “I heard you warned the world.” The appearance of the Demon King reminded him of the encounter he had three hundred years ago on the top floor of Babel, which had left him in despair.

The Demon King of Incarceration nodded and responded, “Yes, I did.” As he moved his hands, the chains wrapped around his wrists produced a metallic sound. “But I gave another choice. If you humans show me awe, then I will return it with respect. As long as the goodwill I show is not violated, I will not take the initiative to end the peace.”

Suddenly, a voice interrupted the tense silence. It was not one of the kings, but Gilead Lionheart, the head of the Lionheart family. His legs trembled under the weight of the Demon King’s pressure, but he gritted his teeth and stood his ground. “Demon King of Incarceration,” he said, his voice steady but filled with determination. “I am Gilead Lionheart, head of the Lionheart family.”

“I know your name. Dear descendant of Vermouth, what would you like to ask me?” said the Demon King of Incarceration.

“I would like to ask you… about the warning. You made my adopted son the receiver of your warning, and you said that the end of the Oath was coming,” continued Gilead.

The Demon King of Incarceration responded, tilting his head. “The Oath wasn’t made to last forever.” His crimson gaze looked past Gilead towards Eugene. “Three hundred years ago, your forefather, my dear Vermouth, made a promise with me, a promise for peace.”

“…..”

“I will not speak details of the Oath since that is not what Vermouth wanted. But descendants of Vermouth, do not misunderstand the end of the Oath. The end of the Oath is inevitable. You may show respect and awe, and I may return the favor, but regardless, someday, the peace obtained by the Oath will end,” said the Demon King of Incarceration.

“Then…! Could we not renew the Oath? If needed, then I can—”

“Who could replace Vermouth?” said the Demon King of Incarceration with a smile. His words weren’t only directed at Gilead. It was a message to everyone who was standing in this place. He continued while staring directly at Eugene’s face. “No one can replace Vermouth. The Oath was made, and it was only possible because it was Vermouth Lionheart.”

The Demon King of Incarceration suddenly stopped, then turned his gaze from Eugene and stared at Molon.

The Demon King of Incarceration’s voice rang out with a commanding tone, cutting through the tense silence. Molon Ruhr was struggling to control his breathing, his muscles tense and ready to spring into action. But the Demon King’s words seemed to reach him, and he hesitated. “Don’t be a fool, Molon. Stop with the reckless bravado,” the Demon King of Incarceration continued, his eyes fixed on the agitated man. “Killing me here and now will not bring you what you seek. It will only bring you more suffering.”

“Krr…!”

“Don’t you have something else to do than kill me?” asked the Demon King of Incarceration.

Crack!

Molon’s teeth broke, and he stared at the Demon King of Incarceration with bloodshot eyes for a while, then took a deep breath.

“I see,” muttered Molon, nodding. He blinked a few times, then took a step back with a scoff. “I want to kill you right now. I want to finish what I couldn’t three hundred years ago.”

“Do you really believe you can achieve what you failed to do three hundred years ago when you were with Vermouth, Sienna, and Anise?” asked the Demon King of Incarceration. .𝒎

“No, I don’t think so. I wanted to attack you, and I wanted to die,” answered Molon frankly. “But I cannot die like that, at least not now. So I will not attack you.”

The Demon King of Incarceration’s smile changed slightly at Molon’s answer. He gazed at Molon with the same smile before nodding. “I respect your decision.” Then he wiped the smile off his face. “Molon Ruhr, I don’t mean just you, either. Kings of the continent, knights who serve them, mercenaries who wander the battlefield, and other warriors. I respect all of your wills. I know why all of you have gathered here.”

He continued after lowering his voice to almost a whisper, “So I will take my leave now. If you want war, come to my territory. Just as your forefathers did three hundred years ago, come to Pandemonium, climb Babel, and point your blades at me.” The Demon King of Incarceration’s body began to scatter into darkness. “If you wish to do so, I will gladly wait there. Have I shown enough grace, Eugene Lionheart?”

The Demon King of Incarceration suddenly called Eugene’s name, then stared at him with narrowed eyes as he disappeared. “Master of the Holy Sword, descendant of Vermouth.”

Eugene glared back at the Demon King of Incarceration without answering.

“Will you climb Babel?” asked the Demon King of Incarceration.

Eugene recalled the vision of Vermouth from the Dark Room.

—Just as I did, stand before the Demon King of Incarceration and meet with his true body. What will happen after that are things you will have to experience yourself.

“Yes,” said Eugene as his lips twisted into a smile. He raised his middle finger towards the disappearing figure of the Demon King of Incarceration. “I don’t know when, but I’ll make sure to go.”

“You!” shouted Gavid angrily.

He had never imagined that anyone would be mad enough to show such a disrespectful gesture towards the Demon King of Incarceration.

However, the Demon King of Incarceration only laughed in response as if he found it entertaining. He laid his hand on Gavid’s shoulder and stopped him from running forward. “Don’t be rude.”

“But Your Majesty…!”

“He is my guest,” whispered the Demon King of Incarceration, and Gavid bowed with a grimace. Just before he disappeared, the Demon King of Incarceration looked at Eugene with smiling eyes and spoke, “I look forward to the day you come to Babel.”

Then he disappeared completely. Until the moment there were absolutely no traces of the Demon King of Incarceration, Gavid kept his head bowed and his knees touching the ground.

The Demon King of Incarceration had called Eugene a guest, and Gavid had no complaints. The profanity that Eugene Lionheart showed deserved a thousand grueling deaths, but his lord had commanded him not to be rude.

‘Until you come to Babel, that is,’ Gavid thought.

Gavid soothed his mind while chewing on his lips, then stood up from the ground. Or, at least, he attempted to rise up. But just before he could do so, Eugene Lionheart’s blade suddenly fell towards his head.

.