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Kaelrik’s voice thundered through the village square, resonating with an unsettling power, like the tolling of a death knell.
"This dream of mine is only possible thanks to the powerful allies I’ve graciously bestowed upon this pitiful fief!" he proclaimed, his words dripping with false benevolence. Yet, despite his booming voice, no one flinched. The villagers were completely enraptured, their attention fixed on Kaelrik’s words, as if spellbound.
Everyone except Xylen.
’You idiot, drop the theatrical nonsense already and cut to the chase,’ Xylen grumbled to himself in his mind, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
Pretending to be unconscious was already exhausting, and worse, time was running out. But acting too soon would only jeopardize the entire mission.
Meanwhile, confusion and deep frowns gradually settled on the villagers’ faces as they processed Kaelrik’s words, glancing at each other in growing unease.
Just at that moment, Kaelrik’s eyes lit up with a strong fervor, and an expression of reverence twisted his face — a look no one had ever seen on him before.
"I’m talking about Blood Count Lucareth of Darkhallow City," he declared, his voice dripping with exaggerated awe and pride. "A being of immeasurable power who, out of his sheer generosity, has promised to protect and support our fief in conquering the surrounding territories and transforming our village into a city — if we prove ourselves worthy."
The villagers’ hearts pounded in collective dread, their breath hitching, but Kaelrik wasn’t done.
"Sir Lucareth only asks for one insignificant thing in return," Kaelrik continued, letting the tension stretch like a blade poised to strike. "A simple token of our gratitude."
A shiver ran through the crowd.
’Is this where we’re sacrificed?’ The same thought echoed in every mind, bodies trembling in terror.
Kaelrik, sensing their fear, relished it and his smirk oozed malice.
After a second, he slowly raised his hand and pointed at Lilith, who instantly stiffened like prey caught in a predator’s gaze.
"He only wants her as his 976th concubine in exchange for this priceless favor," Kaelrik said, voice casual as if discussing livestock.
Silence crashed over the square.
Lilith became paralyzed with shock. The villagers’ jaws dropped. Even the guards stiffened, their expressions flickering with disbelief.
In the demon continent, multiple wives and concubines weren’t unusual — but nearly a thousand? The sheer absurdity of the number left them flabbergasted.
But before they could dwell much on it, Kaelrik, unfazed, turned to Xylen’s motionless form, his expression twisting into something venomous.
"In case you’ve forgotten," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain, "that demon is my cousin — the useless relic who has been in a coma for eighteen years, dragging our village into ruin and greatly holding it back."
’Finally!’ Xylen thought, his heart hammering, but he remained still, daring not to move even the slightest bit.
The villagers, on the other hand, exchanged wary glances, unsure where Kaelrik was leading.
But just them, his voice sliced through the villager’s confusion like a blade.
"I’m sure most of you know that our village’s baronial position can never be vacant as long as a descendant of the former baron is alive—even if they’re missing or wasting away in a coma," he declared, his voice rising and sending a hush through the village.
Kaelrik’s grin widened, his expression warping with delight. "Since we’ve all agreed to elevate this village to a city, we can’t do that with a useless figurehead, right? So..."
He paused, savoring the villagers’ astonishment and confusion like fine wine.
"I will hesitate no longer and take it upon myself to act for the greater good of this village... I will slay him and claim the baron’s position!"
He finished.
In the following second, the village fell into silence so absolute that even distant bird calls echoed like thunder.
They all stared at Kaelrik in disbelief, until finally, a brittle voice cracked through the stillness.
"He... he wants to kill his own cousin... for a mere title?"
Although the voice was so small and barely more than a whisper, it somehow reached every ear.
In the next moment, all heads turned toward the speaker... the elderly, one-eyed, hunched demon who had first recognized Xylen a moment ago.
But right now, his wrinkled face was paled in horror, and his single eye was wide as he realized his mistake.
’Did... did I... say that out loud?’ he thought in a stupor, swallowing hard as dread slowly sank into his bones.
Just at that moment, Kaelrik turned slowly in his direction, a glacial smile stretching across his face.
"Why don’t you step forward and repeat that?"
"I..." The old demon trembled, colors draining from his countenance.
"My... my lord, mercy," he stammered, dropping to his knees with a loud thud, his forehead banging against the ground with desperate force. "I... I am the only one left to care for my granddaughter. Please, spare me..."
Kaelrik crouched with a menacing smile, leveling his gaze with the old demon’s, his voice softening to a near-whisper. "Spare you? After you dared to question my divine purpose? You should be grateful I don’t rip out your tongue for your insolence."
Upon hearing this, the villagers pitied the old demon. However, knowing better than to get involved, they quickly distanced themselves from him.
Before long, only the elderly demon remained, still knocking his head against the dark paved ground.
No... someone else was beside him—a small demon girl, no older than two years old. She gazed around innocently, her deep curiosity evident.
As soon as the villagers noticed her, their hearts grew heavy.
They turned to Kaelrik, hoping to see even the slightest hint of forgiveness in his expression. However...
An aged, weak, and almost skeletal Demon, who had obviously been a hardened man in the past, quietly wipes his eyes with his ripped shirt looking away in shame.
A tall, three-armed Demon woman tries to cover her own child’s eyes, tears streaming down her face as she mutters under her breath, "Don’t look... don’t look..."
And just then, Kaelrik unhurriedly rose and straightened his posture, wiping imaginary dust from his hands and then—
"Someone should go invite him and the girl to the platform. Let them come explain themselves to everyone," he ordered casually.
The crowd instantly recoiled, horror twisting their features as they knew what was about to happen.
’He’s beyond cruel,’ they thought, their hearts sinking while the old demon froze, his frail body abruptly crumbling under the weight of Kaelrik’s command.
He had used his granddaughter as a plea for mercy — and Kaelrik had twisted that plea into a public spectacle.
He had used the only family he had left in this world to beg for mercy, hoping for forgiveness—not for himself, but so she wouldn’t be left alone in this dark and unforgiving world. Yet...
A drop of blood tear slowly dropped from his single eye.