Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 573

The next day, Ludwig headed to the 17th District Guard again.

Unlike Heinrich or Ellen, who could patrol the outskirts of the capital at their discretion, Ludwig was neither able nor permitted to do such things.

He felt a sense of deprivation, but he was fully aware of the overwhelming difference in ability.

He didn’t dare envy what Ellen and Heinrich were capable of.

Instead, Ludwig headed to the guard post. The work was difficult and often painful, but he believed that even the small things he could do had meaning.

Returning a lost child to their parents, for example, was never meaningless.

Ludwig made his way to the guard post once again, hoping for more moments like that.

“Sir Ludwig, there’s an important mission for you.”

Ludwig paused. “An important mission?”

“It’s a task suited for you.”

Both the guard captain and Sontaine, who acted as his mentor, respected Ludwig. However, they also knew that Ludwig could not handle the horrors of the refugee camp and the cruel tasks the guards had to perform.

A task suited for Ludwig...

“It’s an escort mission,” the guard captain said softly as he noted Ludwig’s surprise.

“An escort...?”

“You’re aware of the epidemic, aren’t you?”

“Yes... I saw it yesterday...”

“A priest has been dispatched for purification work.”

Epidemic and purification...

Ludwig’s eyes widened.

“We ask that you provide an escort for the dispatched priest.”

Eradicating the epidemic was an essential task, one that left no room for debate or moral hesitation.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Ludwig replied.

They had assigned Ludwig this task, knowing what he found difficult and what he desired.

***

To purify the epidemic, a priest of Ouen was needed. However, thanks to the Demon King, the followers of Ouen and Alse were not only publicly persecuted, but were also ostracized by the broader faith community.

In such a situation, it was practically impossible for the priests of Ouen to move openly, even if they claimed to be there to treat the epidemic.

The believers of Ouen were persecuted, and his priests faced even harsher treatment. Yet, they could not simply leave the epidemic unchecked. If the disease spread beyond the refugee area and into the capital itself, the situation might grow to a point where even Divine Power could not remedy it.

Thus, the priests of Ouen had to risk their lives to enter the refugee area to purify the epidemic.

Naturally, they could not wear their priestly robes and had to move in secret. They could not be escorted by a large number of guards, either, as that would only draw the attention of the refugees.

Even though they were not doing anything wrong but were trying to save people, they had to move discreetly.

“Priestess, this is Ludwig, who will be your escort today.”

Ludwig bowed his head to the female priest in a worn gray robe.

“Nice to meet you, Ludwig. I am Rowen.”

“Hello.”

The female priest, who had a gentle impression and seemed to be around Ludwig’s age, smiled at him, and Ludwig replied with a wry smile of his own.

“You may find me unreliable, but I will do my best,” Ludwig said, thinking she might be displeased that the only escort provided by the 17th Guards was a one-armed man. She might suspect the guard division of deliberately putting her in danger, even if such a thought were insulting to Ludwig.

However, the priestess nodded gently with a smile, as if she had not considered such thoughts at all.

“Yes. My life is in your hands.”

***

Ludwig left the 17th Guards’ headquarters with Rowen.

Ludwig felt his mind begin to clear for the first time in a long while. The purification of this epidemic was a straightforward, instinctive task—one that required no moral deliberation. There was no need to question what was right or wrong.

Since they were trying to go about discreetly, Ludwig wasn’t wearing his guard uniform, and Rowen was dressed in a tattered robe with her face covered. In this state, it was impossible to tell she was a priest, and Ludwig didn’t look like a guard either. Their only task was to purify the areas through which the epidemic was spreading.

However, should an emergency arise, they had to be prepared to use force.

As they walked side by side, Rowen glanced at Ludwig and inclined her head slightly.

“You’re not an actual guard, are you?”

“Sorry? Ah... How did you know?”

“The guard captain addressed you with honorifics...”

It wasn’t a particularly impressive deduction.

“Ah... Actually, I just returned from the Allied encampment not long ago. So...”

“So you’re a veteran.”

“Yes... As you can see, I was injured... So I was sent to the rear...”

“You’re an admirable person. I respect you.”

Ludwig felt his face heat up. It wasn’t out of embarrassment or shyness, but out of shame.

Ludwig thought he had no right to hear such words. It was someone like Rowen who deserved to hear such praise. Despite the hatred and resentment faced by the priests of Ouen, she was still entering the refugee camp to save those within it.

These were the truly admirable ones.

He was merely a defeated soldier who had failed at everything and been cast out.

Rowen continued to speak as they walked, either disregarding or oblivious to Ludwig’s feelings of self-reproach.

“We’ll be moving in secret, so we will hopefully avoid any hostility,” said Rowen. “Sir Ludwig, you only need to step in if and only if something drastic happens.”

Rowen continued to explain to Ludwig what he had to look out for. It seemed she had done this sort of work under such circumstances before.

“Sir Ludwig, are you good at running?” she asked.

“Sorry? Ah... Yes, I’m confident.”

Running, even in his current state, was one of the few things Ludwig was still confident in.

“How about running while carrying someone?”

He didn’t need to ask who he would be carrying.

“I’m confident in that too.”

“Then, if something goes wrong during the purification work, just pick me up and run away as fast as you can,” Rowen said, smiling brightly.

If they got into an altercation with the refugees, they were to flee rather than fight.

“Yes, I will definitely do that.”

Ludwig found himself liking Rowen’s approach.

***

Ellen went out to patrol the outskirts of the capital with Heinrich again.

From what I’d heard the day before, it seemed like they didn’t need to go out because of the supposed subjugation force, but perhaps because they couldn’t stand being idle, they hurried out after breakfast.

So, there was absolutely nothing for me to do except roll around in bed for a long time since information gathering within the Temple was currently blocked.

How long had I been lying there?

Tap, tap.

As I turned my head while lying on the bed, I saw a sparrow.

A cat and a sparrow...

Tap, tap.

Chirp!

The sparrow tilted its head as it looked at me.

Tap, tap.

Chirp, chirp!

It had been a while since I had seen such a thing.

It was Sarkegar.

***

Outside the Royal Class dormitory, after stepping out onto the promenade, Sarkegar took on an appearance that would not draw any attention and spoke casually, as if he were just a student returning from a stroll.

Honestly, such a disguise was hardly necessary since the Temple was as empty as a graveyard. People were scarce, and it was mostly only guards that were visible.

Our Thick-Skull had quickly found Sarkegar and sent him to me.

I also learned about the outcome of the Senate meeting.

The idea that it would be strange if alchemy weren’t involved made sense. This wasn’t as straightforward as raising Death Knights.

Alchemy, if compared to modern science, was a magical system blending chemistry and biology. Since handling corpses essentially meant dealing with life itself, it was only natural for an alchemist to be involved.

Moreover, hearing the list of Antirianus’s past research projects only added to the turmoil in my already troubled mind.

The Empire wasn’t simply conducting research or experiments—they had a clear idea of what they were doing, and how to get there.

During wartime, resources and materials were scarce, so they wouldn’t waste effort on purely academic pursuits.

Since this was a military endeavor, the weapon they aimed to create was clear.

“Yes, Mulleron’s body was definitely missing,” I said.

The most important deduction from that fact was that the Empire might know how to resurrect a mage’s corpse as a lich.

To turn into a lich, a living mage had to turn their own body into an undead. In other words, it was a process a mage performed on their own body while alive.

Olivia had said that a warrior who underwent this process to become a Death Knight would retain their sense of self. However, the ritual we had performed was used to resurrect a dead warrior—or more strictly speaking, a holy knight—as a Death Knight.

If the Empire could resurrect a dead mage as an undead capable of wielding magic, the possibilities would expand dramatically, and the military power they represented would undoubtedly be massive. In warfare, mages play an even more critical role than warriors. They could perform large-scale attacks, bombardments, and other support functions, making them dominant forces on the battlefield.

“Your Highness, the Senate’s conclusion was that we might need to prevent the Empire from securing such a level of power, even if it means using force,” Sarkegar said.

“That’s true,” I replied.

“I agree with their assessment as well,” Sarkegar added.

I understood what everyone was worried about.

There had been remains of mages in the Hall of Heroes, but most of the bodies there were of warriors.

However, within the imperial mausoleum, there were special tombs reserved for mages who had achieved great feats in magic. And it wasn’t just confined to that one place—many other places likely held similar tombs.

Resurrecting the remains of legendary archmages, those who had left their mark on history, as liches to serve in an army... I wasn’t sure how well these resurrected corpses could wield magic, but if they regained the same magical power as they wielded in life, it would be like having an ultra-powerful mage unit—one that far surpassed even the current elite mage force, the Imperial Mage Corps.

What if the warriors and mages who had left their mark on human history were all resurrected to become an army to save humanity? The situation itself was highly plausible, but the problem arose when the edge of that sword was directed at us.

To be honest, I couldn’t say I was okay with it either. Even if Vertus had no intention of fighting us, there was no guarantee that conflict wouldn’t break out. After all, wars did not always start by choice.

This fear did not stem merely from the possibility of facing an overwhelming number of Master-class combatants—it was the terrifying possibility of that power being amplified by an army of archmages.

Titan may be unable to cross the sea, but if humanity were backed by magic on that scale, an entire army could make the crossing to strike at Edina.

They might not know about Edina or its current state, but if its location were discovered, such an invasion could very well become a reality.

No, it wasn’t the army that was the problem; if they had a thousand archmages on the level of a Vampire Lord, they might be able to drop Titan on Edina.

I had not wanted the Gate Incident to occur, but it had happened because of me.

Even though Vertus did not want war, and neither did I, it was possible to get swept up in some external force or malice that would push us into war.

I was convinced there was some curse—whether fate itself or the twisted will of that candy vendor—that always dragged me into the very situations I most wanted to avoid.

If I left the Empire’s research alone, the Gate Incident might end with fewer casualties. But if that power was turned against the world I’d fought so hard to build, destroying it, who could say that such a fate wasn’t always my destined end?

Yet, if I choose to destroy this dangerous research, wouldn’t that also be playing right into the candy vendor’s hands? If I was the one to shatter the Empire’s core project, wouldn’t that be the spark that ignited a war?

If I struck the Empire now, war would surely come.

Then again, if I followed through with it, the Allied Forces might not be able to advance against us.

If I left the Empire alone, the Gate Incident might more easily be brought to a close, but I might lose everything.

Vertus and I both knew that we harbored no hostility towards each other, even if we hadn’t spoken about it.

However, if the situation changed due to external pressures, whether from the masses or the leaders of the vassal states, the decision to go to war would not be Vertus’s own, but due to external forces.

In fact, Vertus, who did not want war, might even be assassinated, paving the way for the rise of a new emperor to wage war against the Demon King.

No matter what path I took, every future seemed to lead to war with the Empire. If I struck this time, this incident would become the justification for a war. If I remained silent, the collective will of humanity would nevertheless turn against me.

If war was inevitable, perhaps it would be better to dismantle this dangerous project and face a weakened Empire instead. But then, leaving the Empire alone would allow them to grow stronger—and perhaps avert tragedies like Delphine’s death or Ludwig losing his arm.

What about the countless allied soldiers I’d never even met?

If I let the Empire proceed, tens of thousands might survive.

If the Gate Incident was brought to an end more quickly, the resources taken up by the army might go to helping the starving refugees.

But what about Edina?

My people.

I was also responsible for a nation.

I could hardly justify it by saying that it was okay for my own nation to disappear, and for the Empire to survive, just because there were more people on their side.

I felt like I was standing at a crossroads of fate.

The choice I was about to make would greatly change the future.

There was one thing I knew for certain, however—no matter what choice I made, I would come to regret it deeply.

If I destroyed this project, I would regret having destroyed it.

If I let it continue, I would regret not stopping it.

Either way, I was bound to suffer through long nights filled with nightmares.

This time, the Senate’s warning wasn’t just idle worry.

Resurrected warriors, and now, the terrifying possibility of resurrected mages—in the form of liches... That was where the real problem began.

Whether it was an assault by Titan or an elite force of Swordmasters supported by mages—if such power descended upon Edina, I would lose everything.

However, if this could help bring the Gate Incident to an end, I had to at least consider the option of leaving it alone.

THere was yet another thing to consider. If this army could somehow end up playing a crucial role in destroying the final Gate, by destroying the Empire’s new military force, I might be forced to face the dragon from the other world with nothing but Alsbringer in hand.

If this were the case, then halting the Empire’s project would be suicide.

“Your Highness. There’s one other most important issue,” Sarkegar said.

“The most important issue?”

“The Empire might have joined hands with the Black Order.”

Sarkegar’s words rendered me speechless.

The Black Order... Since this involved alchemy and other taboo magic, it would be impossible to deny their involvement.

Whatever the Empire was doing, the source of their knowledge had to be the Black Order.

The Black Order’s power had been weakened, but they still retained whatever knowledge they had, and they might have finally found a group that could apply that knowledge in more valuable ways than they could on their own.

The Black Order had once tried to kill me. To them, it didn’t matter who I was—my death was necessary for the sake of humanity. Even up to this point, the remnants of that Order might still wish for my death.

If the Empire had joined hands with a force that saw me as an enemy, I needed to find out what was going on as soon as possible.

There were two options: take the risk of meeting Vertus directly and asking him about everything, or send Sarkegar to gather information.

Meeting Vertus was very dangerous. Not just for me, but for Vertus as well.

As for Sarkegar, he was capable, but not all-powerful. And the project the Empire was working on was likely so heavily guarded that even he would struggle to infiltrate it.

“I have to meet the emperor directly,” I said.

In the end, there was only one conclusion. After all this time, I needed to meet Vertus in person.

“Your Highness, that’s far too dangerous,” Sarkegar said, naturally concerned.

“It might become dangerous someday, but it’s not right now.”

Just as Vertus wouldn’t attack me even if he knew where I was, he wouldn’t attack me even if we met face to face.

We could still talk.

Perhaps it would not be possible in the future, but for the moment, a conversation was still possible.