Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 598

The four of them emerged from the underground storage of the club building, where Dettomorian had been, and made their way back to the Royal Class dormitory.

Their initial goal was to find out if the heretics’ rituals in the refugee camp could truly turn the remains of saints into undead.

Was it really that easy to turn the remains of saints into undead? They had asked the sorcerer about it, but instead of an answer, Ludwig had unexpectedly heard a prophecy about his own death.

When Ludwig refused to be deterred by his prophecy, Dettomorian, seemingly resigned, had offered a cryptic hint: “Find Ashir.”

Ashir was already dead. What could that possibly have to do with their current situation? The connection was so tenuous that it was impossible to grasp its meaning.

“That guy... He’s completely insane,” Heinrich muttered, frowning in disgust at the unsettling talk of death without any clear explanation. He wasn’t particularly close to Dettomorian.

“No, Heinrich, Detto... He was trying to warn me. You know that.”

“If he knows something, shouldn’t he offer a proper explanation? He needs to tell us what’s going to happen. Just throwing out cryptic hints like that seems more like a provocation. There’s no point in overthinking or believing what he says. Just ignore him. He’s just a lunatic. Do you think it’s the first time I’ve seen someone lose their mind because of the war? You know what I’m talking about, right?”

They had all been on the front lines. They knew how common it was for people to lose their sanity amidst the horrors of war.

How many had gone mad from the death of comrades, the chaos of battle, the agony of injuries, and the terror of monsters?

Countless people had been broken so badly that they could no longer wield a weapon, let alone live a normal life.

All four of them had witnessed the madness of war and those who had succumbed to it.

Heinrich harshly labeled Dettomorian as just another mentally deranged cultist.

“There’s no need to pay attention to such unlucky talk. What was that about Ashir? I thought that guy, even though he always seemed gloomy, at least had his head screwed on right...”

Louise finally intervened, stopping Heinrich’s tirade. “Little one...”

“Yes?”

“Sorcery is an unknown power, and a sorcerer is an unknown being to us.”

“...”

Louise looked at Heinrich. “But even if sorcery is an unknown power, didn’t you see the person just now? He didn’t seem like someone who would misuse his power or his heart.”

“But... Sister... Isn’t he just making things too confusing? Couldn’t he at least give a proper explanation? Couldn’t he tell us why he said such things?”

What could they gain from such vague talk? Heinrich’s point that his prophecy of Ludwig’s death was nothing more than a curse wasn’t entirely wrong. Dettomorian could have explained things better.

“We don’t know any other sorcerers to compare with. There must be a reason for that child to have acted that way.”

“There’s no point in us discussing what Dettomorian’s intentions were,” Ellen added.

“...”

Heinrich fell silent, persuaded by Louise’s restraint and Ellen’s words.

Ellen looked at Ludwig. If they pursued this matter, Ludwig would die, although how and in what manner, they did not know.

Ludwig, though, knowing that his death would not be meaningless or in vain, seemed more determined instead.

Was it right for them to break that resolve? Should they tell him to step back? Was that the right thing to say?

“I don’t believe that I’ll die,” Ludwig said with a determined expression, as if he understood the meaning behind Ellen’s gaze. “I’m not doubting Detto, but if I’m going to do something, I have to believe I can do something. If I die at the end of it, it won’t be Detto’s fault but mine.”

“...”

Ultimately, people choose to believe only what they want to believe. They could believe lies—what more the truth?

Ludwig didn’t believe in his death, but he believed that the process leading to his death wouldn’t be meaningless.

“Alright.” Ellen nodded quietly, seeing Ludwig’s resolve. She couldn’t break Ludwig’s stubbornness.

Ludwig, who had already been broken in so many ways, would wither away if he was broken again this time. His expression seemed to be that of someone living through misery worse than death.

“He said you’d die, but he didn’t say when.”

At Ellen’s words, Ludwig burst into laughter. “Right. Maybe he meant I’d die eighty years from now?”

Ludwig’s positivity was his strength. However, despite his excessively optimistic estimate of eighty years, it seemed he still believed Dettomorian’s prophecy of his death was true.

The sorcerer had said he would die, but didn’t say when. Since everyone died eventually, the prophecy that he would die was something anyone, not just a sorcerer, could utter.

Ludwig had decided to mock the sorcerer’s prophecy, and Ellen also decided not to think about Ludwig’s death. After all, it might not even be true.

Death was so prevalent that it had become easy to predict, but that didn’t mean that everyone died. There was always the possibility that the prophecy was wrong.

If they prevented Ludwig from dying this time, he would soon seek another path to death anyway. It was better to keep him within sight.

“What did he mean to find Ashir?”

The next problem: his instruction to find Ashir.

What did it mean that they would know once they found him? If Dettomorian was just a mentally unstable person, it could be dismissed as malicious nonsense.

However, it had been too sudden a statement. If he had said something like go and find the popes of the Five Great Orders or to revisit the scene, they might have had a clue.

What he’d said was too unexpected and unpredictable, which made it even more bizarre. It seemed completely unrelated yet somehow related at the same time. It forced them to find the relevance within the irrelevance.

Even so, there was a problem. Where were they supposed to find Ashir, who was already dead? Ultimately, there was only one conclusion to be drawn from the instruction to find a friend who was already dead.

“Does it mean we should visit Ashir’s grave?”

At Ludwig’s words, everyone could only think they understood even less.

The grave of a dead friend.

The massacre of the inquisitors.

The desecration of the graves of the saints of the Order of the Holy Knights.

What connection did these incidents have with a friend’s grave?

The sorcerer’s words only plunged the four of them further into confusion.

Eventually, Ellen nodded slowly.

“Even if the visit itself does not offer us anything, it won’t be a bad thing.”

Visiting the grave of someone they had lost might plunge them into a cloud of misery, but it couldn’t make things any worse.

***

All four of them left the Temple. Their steps were cautious, afraid that they were being watched and tracked by the Order of the Holy Knights or some other force.

Ashir’s talent was in Divine Power. He was not a combatant who participated directly in the fighting, but played the role of a priest, healing soldiers in the rear.

He had been torn to shreds by an attack from flying monsters, and it had been hard to even look at the gruesome state of his body which they had barely managed to recover.

The bodies of those who had made significant contributions in the war were buried in the national cemetery in the northern part of the capital.

Most of the Royal Class students had contributed more than enough in this war to earn their place, and Ashir, though not directly involved in combat, had saved many lives.

Since Ashir wasn’t part of the Order of the Holy Knights, his grave was in the national cemetery. However, since the four of them had been deployed with the Allied Forces, there was never a reason to visit Ashir’s grave.

“I should have visited at least once...”

Ludwig sighed in self-reproach, resenting himself for being so consumed by despair that he hadn’t even thought of visiting his friend’s grave. Heinrich and Ellen felt the same.

Since the magic trains were not in operation, they had to cross the river to the north and pass by the palace. It was a long trek.

Guards were not the only ones clearing the snow along the streets they passed through. There were others familiar to Ellen, Heinrich, and Ludwig, who were from the Royal Class.

Rumble!

—Whoa!

—It’s a superpower!

They saw a senior using wind to clear the snow from the streets in an instant, and the children, amazed to see snow being cleared away by a superpower, followed the senior around, a scene that was both sad and endearing.

The wielder of this wind superpower, who had shown almost as much prowess as Heinrich, was now just someone showing off a curious power to the children. Nothing more, nothing less.

—Ah! Kids, it’s dangerous, don’t come too close! You’ll get hurt!

Ludwig and Heinrich both flashed bitter smiles as they watched the war hero, who deserved to be called such, struggling with the children crowding around her.

If all this ended, and the superpowers of fire and wind were nothing more than curious tricks... Everyone hoped that such days were on the horizon.

A world where such powers were no longer significant would be a peaceful one.

The four of them walked on, hoping for such peace, as they strove to uncover the truth about the deaths that had already occurred while accepting the deaths that were to come.

They walked through the snow-swept streets, toward the grave of a fallen friend.

***

It was their first visit to the Imperial National Cemetery for all of them.

Ludwig and Heinrich had only learned after the fact that Ashir’s body had been transported to the capital and buried after a brief funeral at the Allied camp. They had also only recently discovered that those who’d made significant contributions were laid to rest in the national cemetery.

Ellen, one of the busiest individuals with the Allied Forces, hadn’t attended Ashir’s funeral. As for Louise, she naturally hadn’t been there either.

The four had only just found out where Ashir’s grave was.

“Is that... the national cemetery?”

They stood at the entrance of the park-like cemetery, blanketed in white snow.

Guards stood vigilantly in front of the massive gate, braving the snow to protect the entrance to the cemetery.

Despite the weather, people were waiting in line to visit. The queue was short, thanks to the cold.

Ellen could have bypassed the line, but she and her companions naturally took their places at the end of the line.

They remained silent, wary of revealing their identities.

Each person in line had their own thoughts. Those visiting the cemetery even in such weather must have their reasons.

Ellen and her group had a special reason, but what was driving the others to wait in the snow? They had to be bereaved families.

Some looked shabby, some were soldiers, and there were even nobles standing in line with their attendants. All had likely come to mourn their lost loved ones.

The four of them felt a somber weight settle on their shoulders as they watched the scene.

How long had they waited?

The people ahead of Ellen had their identities verified, then entered the cemetery. It was their turn. Naturally, there was no way to hide their identities.

“H-Hero...?”

Ellen’s face was well-known, so her unexpected appearance caused a stir among the guards.

“I wish to visit quietly.”

“Y-yes...! Understood.”

The guards, surprised by her request for discretion, warned others not to make a fuss.

Ellen’s face served as her identity card, so the checks for the others were brief.

Their group ascertained the location of Ashir’s grave from the information desk beyond the guards and set off.

They all shared the same thought. Visiting a friend’s grave was naturally sobering. Yet they wondered—was there any clue related to the incident they were investigating in this snow-covered cemetery? Probably not.

Perhaps Dettomorian had mentioned it to remind them of something forgotten. But what did he mean by saying they would know once they found Ashir?

They walked through the vast cemetery, and the gloom surrounding them deepened. The snow had not been cleared away as well as on other streets, so their feet sank deeply into it with each step.

“It’s vast...” Ludwig muttered, staring at the expansive cemetery, visible even amidst the snow.

Indeed, the cemetery was at the northern edge of the capital’s territory. A refugee camp lay beyond it now, but before the war, crossing the cemetery’s edge meant leaving the capital entirely.

This vast area was lined with trees and landscaped like a park, making it impossible to see all of it at once.

“It probably wasn’t always this big,” Elen said.

“Ah...” exclaimed Heinrich.

It was easy enough to deduce, even if they did not know the details.

The cemetery had probably undergone two major expansions. The first during the Great War., and the second, after the outbreak of the Gate Incident.

Wars claimed countless lives, and so the graves of those who had made contributions to the empire inevitably multiplied. Ellen could tell from the cemetery map where the heroes of the Great War had been buried, and which parts of the cemetery had been added after the Gate Incident.

The four of them were heading to Ashir’s grave, located in the section that had been added after the outbreak of the Gate Incident. Ellen walked ahead, guiding them through the sea of gravestones.

The designated area.

The designated place.

“Are all these graves... from after the Gate Incident...?” Ludwig muttered.

“Only some of them,” Heinrich said with a nod.

They were no longer thinking about finding clues at Ashir’s grave. They were overwhelmed by the pervasive presence of death.

So many had died and been buried.

The graves in this cemetery represented only a tiny fraction of the total number of dead, yet its scale was overwhelming.

Countless deaths...

Even a tiny fraction of those graves was enough to overwhelm the viewer.

“How many people have died...?” Ludwig muttered blankly.

Just how many had died? They knew it was an overwhelming number, but they couldn’t even begin to quantify it.

“About ninety-five percent of all human cities were destroyed,” Louise said quietly. “So, you could say that that many people died.”

Most of humanity’s cities had been destroyed, so it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the whole population had decreased by that much as well. In fact, the number could be even greater.

Even if five percent of the world’s population had died, it would have been a staggering loss.

But this was the opposite—almost ninety-five percent of humanity was gone.

The scale of death was so vast, so incomprehensible, that it could only be spoken of in percentages.

***

Being in a cemetery inevitably makes one think about death.

Looking at the resting places of the deceased, one would speculate about their lives and think about what their own death might be like. Ultimately, it leads to thoughts about living.

One can’t help but think about how they should live. Death is on display in such a place, and that makes one think about life.

What is life? What is the reason for living?

In a place that spoke the quiet and undeniable truth—that all humans die—one is compelled to contemplate living.

Ellen, Heinrich, Louise... and Ludwig, who had heard a prophecy of his impending death. They each walked on, lost in their own thoughts.

Walking through the vast, snow-covered cemetery, Ellen and her companions soon arrived at Ashir’s grave.

Ashir, who had a talent for Divine Power, had healed many wounded soldiers. He had served in the war not to kill but to save, and had met his death.

“Ashir...” Ludwig quietly brushed the snow off the tombstone and looked at the gravestone with Ashir’s name on it.

None of them cried. They hadn’t deliberately tried to forget, but the war had pushed them to the point where they just did not think about their friend’s death.

When winter passed and spring came, and the army began to march again, the three of them, Ludwig aside, would return to the battlefield.

Worrying was the luxury of those with nothing to do.

Only Ludwig would remain in the capital, pondering life and death.

Those who lived right next to death on the battlefield were too busy to worry.

Ludwig quietly looked at the gravestone. He hoped Dettomorian’s prophecy was true. Rather than standing in front of a friend’s grave, feeling the self-loathing that came from surviving, he wanted to do something, anything. Even if it led to death.

Ludwig hoped he still had a part to play. It didn’t need to be as significant as Ellen’s. He did not need to be as powerful as Heinrich with his superpowers, or be as commanding as Louise, who led a massive army. Even a minor role on the battlefield would suffice.

He wanted to fight. For those who had sacrificed themselves, and for those who would continue to do so.

Ludwig sat silently in front of the gravestone for a long time before finally standing up.

The group looked as if they had been caught in a cold snap, yet none of them shivered.

“So...” Louise said softly.

It felt wrong to discuss such matters in front of a grave, but they had to address it, uncomfortable as it was.

“I don’t know what significance this place holds... I really don’t,” Louise admitted, glancing around.

She didn’t know the Temple students well, so she might have missed a clue.

Heinrich wanted to dismiss Dettomorian’s words as nonsense. But even if they were nonsense, they were unsettling. To suggest they would uncover everything by visiting a dead classmate’s grave was disturbing.

His suspicion grew as he stood before Ashir’s grave.

“No matter how I think about it, it’s strange. Even if he’s insane, he wouldn’t play such a prank...”

What reason could there be for such bizarre claims? It wasn’t amusing, and those who had traveled to the northern part of the capital had gained nothing from it.

“Ellen... did you figure anything out...?” Ludwig asked, looking to Ellen for guidance.

Ludwig had always seen her make smarter decisions than himself. Though he couldn’t figure anything out, he hoped Ellen might have some insight. However, it wasn’t because Ludwig was too foolish to see the truth this time.

“I have no idea,” Ellen admitted, unable to make sense of the situation either.

“What does Ashir have to do with the desecration of remains from the Order of the Holy Knights and the massacre of the inquisitors in the first place...?” Heinrich said.

As Heinrich pointed out, it was more absurd than searching for soup in a well. They had all acted on the sole belief that Dettomorian had some strange foresight.

“I need to go back and confront him. If I grab him by the collar and demand answers, he might say something,” Heinrich said, growing increasingly frustrated.

Dettomorian had been vague and never explained anything directly.

Seeing Heinrich’s agitation, Ellen stepped in.

“Calm down. Dettomorian didn’t say those things with bad intentions. If he didn’t explain properly, there has to be a reason for it. Even if we don’t find any clues here, we’re not in trouble,” Ellen reassured.

Even though she did not know him well, he had no reason to deceive them, nor did he harbor any ill intentions. Even if his words turned out to be meaningless, they weren’t trapped or in danger.

Heinrich sighed. “Ellen... I understand what you mean. Maybe I’m getting angry for no reason. But all this was completely pointless. Coming here has nothing to do with the case we’re pursuing. If there is a connection, I’d like to know what it is. Look, the only common thread between this place and that underground space beneath the temple of the Order of the Holy Knights is that they are both graves, nothing else—”

“...?”

Heinrich suddenly trailed off, and the others listening did the same.

“Wait... There is... one thing in common?”

Though they couldn’t grasp its meaning, there was indeed a commonality.

The Tomb of the Saints, where the remains had been stolen... And now, the Imperial National Cemetery, where they had come in search of Ashir.

Whatever it meant, they were both the resting places of the dead.