Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 618

Ellen returned to the Allied Forces’ camp.

I sat in the commander’s office, located in the highest chamber of the Order of the Holy Knights’ main temple.

There were five of us gathered there. Olivia Lanche, who had essentially become the leader of all the Orders. Riana de Granz, visiting briefly to oversee climate control. Rowen, the newly appointed commander of the Order of the Holy Knights. And Harriet.

“Ellen went back to join up with the Allied Forces?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, she probably did,” I replied.

Now that the camp was quieter, it seemed like a better place for her to find some peace.

I sensed something had shifted.

Returning to the capital hadn’t brought the rest I’d expected; instead, it had unleashed a series of weighty events, and somehow, I found myself entangled in them.

Seeing Ellen transformed into someone entirely different was unsettling, but it was inevitable.

“I met with Ludwig, just as you said, Your Majesty,” Rowen informed me.

I had asked her to meet with Ludwig and initiate a conversation with him.

Rowen, the eccentric newcomer, had proven dependable. She had already taken charge of all the heretic factions in the refugee camp.

Rowen played a crucial role in integrating the heretics. Despite Rowen’s ominously dangerous nature, we needed to use her if we could, just like we were doing with Antirianus.

“Your Majesty, the Demon King instructed me not to act, so I let him be. But in hindsight, perhaps it would have been wiser to eliminate him,” Rowen remarked.

“What was he like?” I asked.

“It felt as if he was about to stab everyone, and he himself was also on the verge of self-destruction,” Rowen replied in a chilling tone, and Harriet narrowed her eyes.

None of us, myself included, was particularly fond of Rowen. To be honest, we couldn’t bring ourselves to like her. We had recruited her solely because her skills were invaluable.

“That’s just like you. How is it any different from what you did?” I shot back.

“I don’t want enemies like me,” Rowen admitted, recognizing her own odd nature.

“Just let him be,” I insisted.

“Don’t you think he’s a threat?” Rowen pressed, but I stayed quiet.

Olivia spoke up for me. “Seriously, what could he possibly become?”

Her words seemed to sway everyone, even Rowen.

Ludwig couldn’t become a threat.

What could one twisted individual achieve on his own? He had even lost an arm.

The only reason Rowen had accomplished so much was thanks to the intricate web of schemes she had woven over time.

Had Rowen merely been a single twisted inquisitor or a holy knight, her capabilities would have been limited.

Ludwig was just one man, lacking power or influence by himself. He was being left alone because he was powerless.

Everyone assumed that was my intention, but it wasn’t.

“If you didn’t see him as a threat, why did you have me meet him, then? You could have just left him alone,” Rowen questioned.

If Ludwig was not regarded as a variable, there was no reason to send Rowen to meet him. To everyone else in the room, Ludwig seemed too insignificant to matter.

“Now that I think about it, you’ve been unusually concerned about him for a while,” Harriet remarked, tilting her head as if sifting through memories.

I wasn’t overly worried, but it was true that I paid more attention to Ludwig’s actions than most. And, to my surprise, I was more affected by Ludwig losing an arm than by Delphine’s death.

Ludwig and I weren’t on bad terms, but we weren’t particularly close either. We weren’t even in the same class.

Ludwig, who was never considered important, had lost an arm. There was no need for Rowen to meet him again to explain things. It must have been both frustrating and infuriating for him. But what could I do?

There was no reason for me to care about someone like Ludwig. If he posed a threat, it was better if he were eliminated. If not, there was no need to meet or talk with him.

Rowen seemed puzzled by my unnecessary concern for Ludwig.

Perhaps it was because he was a classmate... Others seemed to see it that way, and Rowen had no other option but to think the same. And in truth, I had no intention of harming my classmates. Even if they became a threat to me, even if they tried to kill me. Unless that moment was right in front of me, I wouldn’t strike first just because they might become a threat.

That wasn’t my only guiding principle, but it was my final boundary. I wouldn’t cross that line. If I started killing others just because they might pose a threat, who knows what else might unravel?

For personal reasons, and because of the world’s inexplicable absurdities, I had no intention of killing Ludwig or anyone else with my own hands. Not unless I was forced into a situation where I had no other choice.

“No particular reason,” I said.

There was no need to explain further. They wouldn’t understand anyway.

I was the only one who knew that Ludwig was originally the protagonist of this story. If they understood that, that would be a whole new problem in itself.

I was the only one who found it odd that the original protagonist was stuck in the capital, missing an arm, when he should have been someone important.

A series of complex and terrible events had led to this bizarre situation.

Many incidents had already unfolded, many threads laid out, but it was the creation of the Death Knight that tied everything together.

We had brought the Death Knights to life in the Tomb of the Saints beneath the Order of the Holy Knights, and Rowen had started investigating that incident.

She knew that neither the heretics nor the demon god cultists could have pulled off something so significant, so she conducted minimal investigations into them while considering other major forces as suspects.

The Demon King or the Empire were prime suspects. The Demon King’s whereabouts were unknown, but the Empire was right beneath her feet.

Meanwhile, Ellen, Ludwig, and Illeion Volten made their way back to the capital.

Rowen discovered that Ludwig, once a member of the Temple’s Royal Class, had taken up a position as a guard in the capital. Intrigued, Rowen deliberately sought him out. Her goal was to earn Ludwig’s trust and extract information about the Temple. However, she soon received orders to halt her investigation.

Defying those orders, Rowen pressed on, prompting Illeion Volten to attempt to eliminate her.

In response, Ellen took up the case at Ludwig’s request.

Our actions had triggered a series of events that pulled in various groups and individuals, culminating in Rowen unexpectedly offering me control over the Order of the Holy Knights, the Church of the Five Great Gods, and the refugee camp outside the capital.

I never saw it coming. I could never have foreseen all this the moment we first created the Death Knight.

Now, Rowen was aware that we were the ones behind the undead incident. Naturally, she wasn’t particularly surprised. Every incident carried its own significance. The events that had unfolded marked both an end and a beginning. I understood that this was simply how the world worked.

Of course, if I voiced these thoughts, people might accuse me of overanalyzing it, but I couldn’t help it. The complex situations arising from our actions in the capital seemed to lead to one inevitable outcome.

Would the true conclusion be that I end up absorbing the Order of the Holy Knights and the Church of the Five Great Gods into my own forces, and gain control over the refugee camp? Was this the real ending to this sequence? Or was there something else?

I had sent Rowen to discover what Ludwig was thinking.

Ludwig was not someone to be easily overlooked just because he was insignificant. In fact, I was the only one who realized he had the potential to become the most unpredictable factor.

Ludwig, who had lost an arm...

The four of them that were investigating the case had eventually uncovered the Empire’s hidden actions, and Ludwig had discovered the web of collusion, conspiracy, and deceit among the leaders and influential figures of each faction.

Wasn’t that the true resolution?

After all, could the original protagonist really remain powerless until the end? Was it possible for Ludwig to lose his place in the story?

The protagonist has to achieve their desires. The world is crafted in such a way to grant the protagonist their deepest desires in any way possible.

I had ended up taking Alsbringer, something that should have belonged to Ludwig.

If Ludwig truly was the protagonist of this world, he would not stray from his destined path.

I thought Ludwig was out of the picture, but now that he was back in my life, it felt like his story wasn’t over yet.

‘Ludwig can’t escape this narrative.’

If that assumption held true, then Ludwig would get what he wanted. And what he wanted was undoubtedly revenge. The means to achieve that revenge was undoubtedly power. Yet Ludwig felt more useless after losing his arm.

‘No, wait. Shouldn’t I have seen it differently from the very beginning? Was it really that he lost an arm?’

I finally realized.

I finally understood.

“So that’s what it is...” I mumbled.

To gain something, sometimes one has to lose something first.

It wasn’t just about losing an arm.

Losing his arm was the start of something new, a strange kind of gift.

It wasn’t about being defeated; losing his arm was the turning point that would set him on a new path.

“What is that?” Harriet asked, glancing at my hand as I mumbled to myself.

“Oh, this?”

I had been absentmindedly rolling it in my hand the whole time.

“I don’t know either.”

“Huh...?”

I couldn’t explain why I had picked it up.

I couldn’t quite grasp its significance.

To Ellen, it seemed like just another object, something she’d moved beyond. Yet, tossing it aside felt wrong.

I slipped the small, white talisman back into my pocket.

***

Night fell. In the depths of the underground laboratory, where even the researchers had succumbed to sleep and time seemed to blur, four people remained awake.

Cristina meticulously arranged the chemicals and reagents, preparing for the procedure.

Meanwhile, Anna de Gerna focused on drawing a magic circle.

Louis Ankton meticulously inspected the magical tools and surgical instruments laid out before him.

At the center of the magic circle, Ludwig lay shirtless, his eyes steady.

Cristina, her face partially hidden by a mask, examined the surgical tools that seemed more suited for ancient healers than modern mages.

“Think it over again,” she said with concern.

“Please,” Ludwig insisted.

“I’ve warned you countless times that this could be fatal—no, that it will be fatal,” Cristina insisted.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” Ludwig replied, his resolve unwavering, causing Cristina to frown deeply.

“Using the arm of someone still living or recently deceased would increase your chances of success. It’s not difficult to find such a donor. It’s not gruesome or unethical; you could obtain an arm through safe and ethical means if you just wait a little longer,” Cristina explained, her voice a mix of urgency and care.

“You know that’s not what I want anymore, Cristina,” Ludwig said.

“...”

Cristina had tried countless times to change his mind, but she knew it was no use.

“Ludwig... do you really have to do this...?” Anna asked softly.

Ludwig nodded, determination in his eyes. “I want to become stronger.”

“...”

“I feel so powerless, and this is the only path I see.”

For someone who felt like a nobody, this seemed like the only way to become something more.

Thankfully, not everyone dismissed Ludwig as a nobody. He had friends who truly cared.

He was about to undergo a procedure with a high risk of death, the most dangerous procedure of all. But he was surrounded by those who could help him.

Anna and Cristina knew it was impossible to change Ludwig’s mind.

Still, just because he was determined didn’t mean they could rush into it. They couldn’t perform such a perilous procedure on their friend without proper preparation.

Therefore, all three of them meticulously checked Ludwig’s condition, ensuring he took medication over several days to be in the best possible state.

Finally, Louis, who was standing outside the magic circle, spoke.

“Ludwig, after a thorough examination, it’s clear you’re quite different from most people.”

“Different how?” Ludwig asked.

“You’re... abnormal,” Louis said, studying the data with a serious expression.

Anna and Cristina already knew that about him.

Ludwig, who was lying on the ground, looked puzzled.

“To put it simply,” Louis continued, “your stamina is extraordinary—and that is a truly strange talent.”

Before anything was done, Louis Ankton had conducted a detailed examination of Ludwig’s body and uncovered something remarkable.

Other classmates in the Royal Class boasted impressive supernatural powers or talents, often possessing two, three, or even more abilities. Ellen, for instance, had an array of comprehensive talents.

In contrast, Ludwig’s talent was simply stamina, a talent that ranked him at the bottom of the Royal Class, even in Class B.

Ludwig never considered his talent to be anything special. Yet, he was the only one with the unique gift of immense stamina.

“A strange talent?” Ludwig repeated.

“Yeah... I assumed your talent was linked to endurance or physical stamina, but it doesn’t seem to be,” Louis said.

“Ludwig,” Cristina corrected, glancing at him through her mask. “Your talent seems more aligned with vitality than stamina.”

Ludwig had always believed that his inability to tire was his only strength. However, he was not sure what it meant when hearing it described as a talent related to vitality.

Somehow, the ability he believed was ordinary was actually quite extraordinary.

He realized he didn’t need to understand every detail.

“So... you’re saying it’s a good thing, right?” Ludwig asked.

At the crossroads of success and failure, talent could make all the difference. Ludwig understood that well.

“Yeah. You’ve got a much better chance of surviving than most.”

“That’s reassuring,” Ludwig replied with a hint of relief.

“But remember, it doesn’t guarantee success.”

“Understood,” Ludwig nodded.

Ludwig possessed an extraordinary level of stamina. It wasn’t merely about strength or endurance. It was vitality, which seemed to be the very essence of life itself. Realizing this made it seem like an inexplicable blessing to Louis Ankton. To him, it was a strange and alien talent.

After some time, Anna finished drawing the magic circle and stepped back. Louis then retrieved something from a prepared container.

It was an arm—a right arm.

As Louis approached with the arm, Ludwig asked, “Can I ask whose arm it is?”

Louis carefully positioned the arm, aligning it where Ludwig’s missing arm was.

“Larken Simmernstait’s,” Louis replied.

“I see,” Ludwig murmured, closing his eyes.

The name was all too familiar to him.

Larken Simmernstait, the traitor to humanity who had once risen to the rank of Grandmaster. He had been the strongest human before Sabioleen Tana took that title.

Now, his right arm was lying where Ludwig’s should have been.

Louis stepped back as Cristina, wearing gloves and a mask, approached Ludwig.

No one knew how much would change with this arm transplant, but one thing was certain: something unexpected was bound to happen.

Though it was just a transplant, the arm had belonged to the world’s strongest human during his lifetime, and it had been further enhanced with dark magic and alchemy. If the transplant and adaptation succeeded, the results would be unpredictable. Would he wield the arm of a traitor to humanity to destroy humanity’s enemies?

“Now that it’s come to this, I’ll make sure it succeeds, Ludwig,” Cristina said, her voice resolute.

“Please,” Ludwig replied softly.

Cristina’s eyes sparkled with a fierce determination. “Let’s take revenge on the world together. Let’s make everyone pay for everything they’ve done.”

Though she had once urged him to give up, now that Ludwig had found his resolve, Cristina found herself aligning with it.

Ludwig noted the madness and thirst for vengeance in Cristina’s eyes, then stared quietly at the ceiling.

“Make them pay... Yeah, that’s how it should be. I’m foolish, but I won’t seek others’ opinions or validation for my decisions anymore. I might be wrong, and I might be mistaken, but I won’t look to others for answers anymore. If I’m wrong, then so be it. If I’m right, then so be it. I’ll walk the path I’ve chosen.

“They all had their reasons, I suppose. There might have been reasons, things they had to accept. But if that’s the case, then I can do it too. I can be like that too.”

His eyes burned with an inner fire. “I have to accept this inevitability. Just as they justified many things by saying they had no choice, I’ll justify myself becoming this kind of person in the world they’ve created. That’s okay, right? If they could do what they did, then I think I can do this too.

“Revenge... Well, I don’t think it’s revenge. This is... Yeah, just like they like to say... It’s not revenge or retribution...”

His voice was a mix of defiance and resignation. “It’s just one of those things that couldn’t be helped.”

Coincidences, masquerading as fate, intertwined.

The phrase “it couldn't be helped” echoed, building up on itself.

Yet another inevitability had come. It was both an end and a beginning.