From a Broken Engagement to the Northern Grand Duke's Son-in-Law

“Get ready for—!” I started to shout, turning toward my men.

Or rather, I tried to.

The words died in my throat. It was clear from their haggard state that they were in no condition to fight.

My teeth ground together. All I’d wanted was to recruit a new ally. How had things gone so catastrophically wrong?

“Everyone, run,” I muttered, my Aura flaring to life around me. Arrows began to spin in the air, and the scent of camellias seeped into the atmosphere.

How long could I last here?

I had no idea. But to save Lea and the others, I had to hold out, no matter what.

“Lancelot, get Lea out of here.”

“And what about you, Captain?”

“Someone has to hold him off.”

My focus remained locked on the Count of Madness, Pepia, tension coiling in my gut. 

Turning our backs to him and attempting a full retreat was impossible. Unlike the Fear Marquis, this one was a martial-type Demonkin. If no one stood in his way, he would slaughter the entire unit in an instant.

As if to prove my point, he spoke. “Hm. Who said I would let you go?”

Pepia chuckled and began to walk toward us. It was an ordinary gait, but with each step he took, the very air around him seemed to ripple, as if terrified of his overwhelming presence.

The atmosphere itself trembled and recoiled.

I swallowed hard and drew the dagger from my coat—the Mithril dagger, a gift from the emperor. There was nothing better for facing a Demonkin.

Though I was no expert with a blade, it would serve well enough as a secondary weapon. Against a foe like him, it was only right to use everything I had.

I secured the dagger at my waist and drew my bow.

“Run!” I roared at the men behind me as I sent the arrows flying.

Shwooo—! Shwooo—! Shwooo—!

The arrows streaked through the air, converging on Pepia.

Grrrrrrr—

Sssssss—

A sabertooth and a serpent-dragon materialized, lunging toward the count.

At the same instant, I raised my bow and took aim.

Krrrrick!

A massive torrent of Aura surged into my bow. The scent of camellias thickened, blanketing the area.

Fsssshh—!

Like branches bursting from a tree, my Aura erupted, causing camellia blossoms to bloom everywhere.

“Hmm.”

Pepia glanced at the onslaught and let out a faint, mocking sneer. The thought that I would try to face him with something like this must have seemed pathetic.

“My son died to this?” he muttered with a smirk, then waved a hand to counter my attack.

Fwoooooooosh!

The demonic energy that flowed from his hand blocked every single one of my attacks.

Thud. Thud.

“So weak. It appears you have yet to even reach the pinnacle. Isn’t that right?”

My assault was swept away in an instant. Everything I had poured into that attack vanished in a breath. I felt like prey before a ravenous predator.

“This is insane,” I breathed, my voice low.

The ‘pinnacle’ he spoke of was the rank of Grand Master. He meant that I would need to be at least that strong to even stand a chance against him.

And he was right.

Even my master couldn’t defeat the Count of Madness.

The man known as the Divine Archer, one of the strongest beings I knew, had barely escaped with his life. And his opponent had been none other than Pepia.

I risked a glance over my shoulder. The area behind me was empty.

Thankfully, it seemed Lancelot had managed to get Lea out.

At least he listens well.

I’d worried he might make a grand declaration about dying with me, but he wasn’t that much of a fool. The same went for Lea. Even she, strong-willed as she was, couldn’t have resisted being dragged away by so many others.

Hah. Now, I guess the only thing left is how to deal with this monster.

I steadied my breath and met Pepia’s gaze.

A jeer twisted his lips as he spoke. “You’ve been abandoned. They all fled, leaving you behind. They ran, praying for their own lives while hoping for your death.”

His voice was a venom that seeped into the mind. It was one of the Count of Madness’s passive abilities. A martial-type Demonkin with a mental skill.

His very existence was almost laughably unfair.

“Doesn’t rage boil within you? Go, twist their necks and quench your thirst with their blood.”

As his insidious words continued, I quickly focused my mind.

The demonic energy that had infiltrated my brain was compressed and crushed into nothing.

“You’d do well to shut up,” I said, sending my arrows spinning once more.

He stared at me, a flicker of genuine surprise on his face. “Oh? It seems my voice has no effect on you.”

“Just as you see,” I replied with a shrug.

He seemed pleased. A sneer played on his lips as he continued. “Looking at you now, it seems a waste of talent to kill you. It would be better if I raised you myself. What do you say? Will you become my son?”

His son…

My eyes drifted to the cold corpse of the Half-Blood on the floor.

Is he asking me to end up like that?

He kept talking about his ‘son,’ but Demonkin had no paternal love. They were creatures that would devour their own family if they saw them as a source of nutrition. What concept of kinship could they possibly have?

In other words, even if I agreed to become his son, my life wouldn’t be guaranteed. Why in the world would I agree to such a thing?

“I refuse.”

“Hmm. So you insist on bringing punishment upon yourself.”

“I’m a rather dutiful son, you see. I don’t think I could betray my own father.”

“Turns out you’re mad.”

Mad?

He was probably right. Trying to fight one of the Twelve Nobles one-on-one was a madman’s gambit to begin with.

“Then so be it. If you wish to die, I will gladly kill you.”

Pepia raised his hand. Demonic energy swirled around it, encasing it in a colossal shroud.

“Die.”

His hand moved. A massive blade of demonic energy surged toward me.

Whooom!

A tidal wave of pure demonic power. Watching it approach, a thought crossed my mind.

So this is how I die.

It was an utterly disappointing end. The man who had vowed revenge was now dying a sacrificial death for others. There was no bigger fool. What would my father say if he heard?

He’d probably curse me out, obviously. Tell me to stop spouting bullshit and survive.

Or maybe he’d just tell me to become the Demonkin’s son.

A wry laugh escaped me. He was always such a practical man.

I sneered inwardly and squeezed out the last dregs of Aura left in me. I would die, no question about it. But I couldn’t just let myself be struck down without a fight.

I had to at least struggle, didn’t I?

THOOOM—!

The wave of demonic energy, now nearly upon me, began to be absorbed into my body.

“Gaaaahhhhh!”

A groan tore from my lips. The torrent of demonic energy flooding my system threatened to swallow my consciousness whole. My Aura Heart screamed and groaned under the strain, and my blood vessels twisted like molten iron.

If I let it consume me... it’s over.

I had to resist. But demonic energy wasn’t something you could just push away. It was like a viscous, clinging oil.

But I... will... succeed...!

I held onto my sense of self at the heart of the raging storm.

Something was beginning to boil within me. To be precise, it wasn’t that my Aura and the demonic energy were merely colliding—they were starting to merge, to dig into one another.

Crackle—! Crackle—!

The demonic energy began to take on the color of my Aura. A cold darkness bled into the scent of crimson camellias. Something deep within my instincts was awakening.

“Haaaaaah!”

I fell screaming to my knees. Crystalline wings of Aura bloomed from my back—a sharp, feathered shape forged from dark red camellia petals and black demonic energy.

“Well, well…”

It was grotesquely beautiful.

“What was that... just now?” Pepia stared at me, his expression blank, as if he had just witnessed something that should never have happened. He just stared.

And then—“Heh… ahahaha!”

Pepia laughed. Not out of hostility, but of genuine fascination. The thrill a predator feels for its prey.

“You wielded demonic energy. And more perfectly than a Demonkin, at that.”

“...”

“You. What is your name?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. It took every ounce of my concentration just to suppress the demonic energy now raging within me.

Instead, I rose to my feet and raised my dagger toward Pepia. Being made of Mithril, the blade pulsed with rejection, but I paid it no mind.

“Not going to answer?”

“...”

“No manners, but your spirit is admirable,” Pepia muttered, as if appraising me.

And then, he dispelled the demonic energy cloaking him and began walking slowly toward me.

His footsteps stopped just short of me.

I watched him, gathering my Aura.

In that moment, Pepia whispered, “Come to the Demonic Realm and find me.”

Then he crushed a magic stone in his hand.

Crack.

The fragments of the stone scattered into the air.

“Do so, and I shall personally make you one of the Twelve Nobles.”

Fwoooosh—

Pepia’s form began to turn translucent.

“Ah, and for your information, there is one other Noble left here. He, too, will disappear if you destroy his Summoning Stone.”

“Why are you telling me that?” I managed to force out the words.

Pepia smiled brightly. “Because it would be more interesting if you lived.”

With those final words, Pepia vanished completely, the reverse-summoning seemingly complete.

I clenched my fist tightly where he had stood.

A moment later, I lost consciousness and collapsed to the floor.

Just before my vision faded, the last thing I saw was my unit members running back toward me.

And I told them to stay away. Talk about being stubborn.

Honestly, it’s a wonder who they take after…