Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 659

In the heart of the battlefield, Olivia Lanche fought fiercely, clad in the armor of a holy knight. Standing atop a heap of monster corpses, she surveyed the chaos below.

The ground shook violently as hundreds—perhaps thousands—of meteors rained down from the torn sky. Massive flames and flashes of light tore through the waves of monsters.

“Reinhart...” she whispered.

The Immortals had disappeared, and the Demon King’s army had taken their place.

Everyone knew the Demon King’s forces were targeting the monsters, not humanity.

Was this the end of humanity’s misunderstanding? Or were they simply replacing one misconception with another?

The belief that the Demon King sought humanity’s destruction was now overshadowed by the notion that the Emperor had forsaken them. Reinhart hadn’t planned for things to turn out this way, but it was happening nonetheless.

Still, resolving one misunderstanding by creating another was a problem for the future. First, the Allied Forces needed to survive. Destroying all the warp gates and ensuring the survivors’ safety was crucial. If the Allied Forces were wiped out, they couldn’t return to humanity burdened with either truth or misunderstanding.

Survival was the top priority.

Reinhart had removed his mask, revealing himself as the Demon King. He had unleashed the Demon King’s magic, obliterating monsters and breaking through enemy lines.

His actions were meant to bolster the Allied Forces, who were on the brink of collapse.

The mask had to come off. Whatever power he wielded, it had to be formidable. Now that the Immortals were gone, everyone needed to know there was a powerful ally who would never back down.

So...

Thud!

Olivia tossed aside her helmet.

She untied her hair, her radiant platinum blonde locks dancing in the battlefield’s wind.

Even amidst the chaos, Olivia Lanche’s presence was impossible to ignore. Her appearance commanded attention.

Before the Gate Incident, she had already earned renown as the Saintess of Eredian. She had participated in the Great War, and though her role had primarily been providing support in the rear, she earned the nickname “Grim Reaper” for the countless demons she vanquished—a name that seemed ill-suited for her.

Still, the fame she had earned was overshadowed by the infamy she gained after the onset of the Gate Incident. She was a traitor to humanity, and became more infamous as a villainess than revered as a saintess. Wanted posters for the traitors who had betrayed humanity were plastered in every remaining human city, and her face was everywhere.

Anyone harboring even a flicker of hatred for the Demon King would instantly recognize the faces of the three human traitors, Olivia Lanche, Harriet de Saint-Ouen, and Riana de Granz, as well as the Demon King himself.

One of these three, Olivia Lanche, had just revealed herself.

—Olivia Lanche...

—It’s the Demon King’s Saintess!

The soldiers who saw her and recognized her immediately were stunned, while those who did not notice at first couldn’t help but turn their gaze, drawn by the reactions of the others. Even the holy knights of the Order of the Holy Knights were taken aback to see her fighting alongside them, clad in the armor of a holy knight.

But they were in the heart of a battlefield, and there was no time to dwell on shock or fear.

They had to fight, and so did Olivia. She was there to kill monsters.

The Empire had resorted to reanimating the corpses of the fallen to build an army against these creatures. What was needed was strength. The strength to defeat monsters.

It didn’t matter where that strength came from. All that mattered was the power to vanquish the enemy, the power to bring an end to all this chaos. That was all anyone needed.

Rumbleeee!

The energy that flowed from Olivia’s hand was anything but reassuring.

It wasn’t the familiar golden-white light wielded by the Saintess of Purity; instead, a dark and sinister force radiated from her.

All the soldiers around her were stunned by the malevolent power that seemed evil at first glance.

Rumble... Rumble...

The ground, infused with this dark energy, began to tremble, and things started to surface. Ominous figures, far above mere low-level undead, rose from the earth, cloaked in a dark aura of corruption.

Countless Death Knights emerged from the soil. And that was just the beginning.

Kiaaaa!

The skeletons that emerged from the ground waved their bony hands in the air before mounting spectral horses, their forms as translucent as the riders themselves.

The Death Knights took hold of the reins of their ghostly steeds.

—Oh, ohhh...

Olivia Lanche, once a saintess and now a villainess, gracefully leaped onto one of the spectral horses.

She gazed down at the terrified humans below.

“Let’s go.”

With a sharp crack of the reins, her ghostly steed surged forward, gliding swiftly toward the waves of monsters rather than galloping.

Countless Death Knights, mounted on their own spectral steeds, followed closely behind her.

Kwaaaah!

The phantom horses’ wails drowned out the monsters’ roars.

Thu-thud, thu-thud.

The spectral horses charged forward, trampling the monsters beneath them like a ship slicing through a tidal wave.

The soldiers stood in stunned silence, watching as the ghostly steeds crashed through the horde of monsters.

Then, as if on cue, some of the holy knights, clad in their sacred armor, mounted ghostly steeds of their own and joined the ranks of Death Knights.

“What... what is this...?” someone murmured in disbelief.

Olivia Lanche, the saintess who had vanished, had reappeared wielding the power of darkness and corruption, as befitting her new reputation. Even more shocking was the fact that some of the holy knights of the Church had also embraced the very cursed power they were sworn to reject.

The Demon King’s influence had seeped into the Order of the Holy Knights, and they were wielding his cursed power.

And yet...

Gwooooor!

Kiaaaah!

It was just as clear that they were taking the fight to the monsters, and not humanity.

***

Everyone was where they needed to be, playing their part. They were doing their utmost to fill the gap left by the Immortals and to calm the rising fear.

Each person had unique strengths, so they couldn’t all fight in the same location.

Reinhart had his own place, as did Riana and Olivia. And the Vampire Lord and their followers had theirs.

Naturally, Harriet had her place too.

The Vampire Lords were calling down meteor showers to keep the army of monsters attacking the Allied Forces at bay. Reinhart and Olivia had revealed themselves to keep the morale of the Allied Forces from crumbling.

Harriet stood beside Riana, who was focusing intensely to summon even greater power now that the Immortals had retreated.

Harriet thought she understood why the Immortals had pulled back. They must have anticipated this outcome.

It wasn’t difficult to figure out, but she hadn’t expected them to go to such lengths. Did they really despise them that much? Why was there so much hatred?

Since they knew the Demon King would take drastic measures to save everyone, they had to understand the Demon King’s true intentions.

Harriet couldn’t fathom why things had to be taken to such extremes. It was beyond her comprehension. But this wasn’t the moment for anger, confusion, or tears of frustration. They all understood that instead of lamenting the unfairness and absurdity of the situation, they needed to rally behind the crumbling Allied Forces.

Therefore, even though they knew they were walking into a trap, they had to give it their all.

“...”

Harriet de Saint-Ouen... The magical prodigy, celebrated as the most talented mage in history, had already accomplished countless miracles. However, those feats had little to do with warfare.

Now, Harriet de Saint-Ouen’s brilliance was required for a different purpose. This time, she had to channel her genius into the art of destruction.

Harriet silently retrieved the earrings she had been holding onto.

.

.

“What are these?” Harriet asked.

“They’re nothing special. Just take them,” Reinhart said nonchalantly.

“Huh...?”

“I brought them for you.”

“Well, what are they?”

He held them up. “They’re earrings. Can’t you tell that just by looking? They’re artifacts with Tranquility magic permanently engraved on them. I don’t need them, and Ellen doesn’t either. So, they’re for you. They should help you maintain your composure when casting spells, right?”

.

.

The earrings, imbued with magic that could help calm the wearer’s mental state, were treasures Reinhart and Ellen had brought back from the Dark Land. Reinhart had offered them to Harriet as a gesture of apology after noticing how left out she felt, having not been part of the secret relationship he and Ellen had forged there.

In truth, he had always intended to give them to her, apology or not.

Although the earrings were undoubtedly precious, Harriet felt they might not hold much significance for her anymore. And truth, they didn’t. After all, she had reached a point where she could maintain her composure in battle without relying on such auxiliary artifacts. Although she always carried the earrings with her, she never wore them. To her, depending on magic to find calm wasn’t the path to true strength.

But this was the time to draw on any power she could find. She wasn’t sure how much help this small pair of earrings would be, but they meant more to her than their worth as mere artifacts. They were her own treasure—a gift given to her, retrieved by a loved one and a dear friend.

Harriet quietly slipped on the pair of earrings. Their soft, green glow offered only a slight sense of calm. Yet, it wasn’t the magic within them that soothed her heart; it was the significance they carried.

She resolved to do it—whatever “it” was.

For Reinhart, battling at the front lines. For Ellen, fighting even further beyond. For everyone on this battlefield.

For the one she loved. For her dear friend. For all the people.

So that they would not meet their end at the claws of mere monsters. So that they could find a fitting conclusion.

She had to succeed, no matter what.

Even though emotions couldn’t truly be infused into objects, she believed they could be.

‘Even if it’s the second time. No, even if it’s the third time. No. Even if it’s the last time...’

Harriet knew the significance of the earrings. She sought help not through magic, but from her heart.

‘It’s okay, as long as...’

Harriet’s calm eyes no longer held confusion or sorrow. There was no space left for emotions like resentment or grief. In this final battle, hoping for everyone’s happiness seemed like a luxury. Even considering survival felt overwhelming.

‘Let’s all just survive. Let’s make it to the end of everything. Even if my place is a little distant, it’s okay. As long as I can survive, as long as I can reach the end. Nothing else matters.’

Gwooooar!

Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, filled with the cries of flying monsters, Harriet de Saint-Ouen steadied herself with deep breaths.

“Hoooo...”

Blue mana lines began to glow across her body. Light flared from the earrings she wore and the Power Cartridge bundle around her neck. Using her body as a living magic scroll, she could instantly cast spells just by channeling mana.

Harriet had first conceived this idea during her first year in the Temple’s Royal Class, and brought it to life. She had also developed Power Cartridges that allowed her to harness external mana as if it were her own.

Time had passed since then, and Harriet had never been on the front lines of battles or fights; her magic primarily served to support Reinhart. Though she had wielded her power in combat before, she had never been the star of the show. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t considered what it would be like to take center stage.

Countless nights she had stayed up, scribbling notes beside a sleeping Reinhart.

Her thoughts were filled with ideas for magic that could benefit people, heal the wounded, or create new warp gates. Yet, in a world where fighting prowess and strength were paramount, how could she not also imagine magic meant for destruction?

It was time for her to reveal it.

Something she had never attempted before.

Something she once believed impossible.

Something she had never mastered.

A form of magic that had lived only in her imagination.

In this moment, she had to make it real.

If her talent was to be used not for creation but for destruction, she needed to demonstrate her true potential.

The blue mana lines etched on Harriet’s skin began to lift away. The intricate patterns detached themselves from her body. The blue mana lines, like ethereal threads, floated and danced through the air.

“Harriet...?”

Riana watched in a daze, trying to make sense of what Harriet was doing.

“...”

Harriet’s eyes were wide open in deep concentration, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She was so focused that she didn’t even notice the blood trickling down from her freshly-bitten lip.

Using her body as a magic scroll was something only Harriet de Saint-Ouen could do. But now, those mana lines had left her body.

The Power Cartridge contained external mana that she could tap into as if it were her own. Yet, even the enhanced Power Cartridge bundle hanging around her neck did not contain nearly enough mana to manifest the magic Harriet intended to create.

No matter how much mana anyone possessed, it was impossible to bring Harriet’s vision of magic to life.

What was magic, really?

Harriet had been mulling over that question for quite some time. Even in her present, magic was the domain of geniuses.

But in the distant past, even the most exceptional geniuses found magic to be an untouchable realm. They had no way to harness internal mana, and no training existed to accumulate mana within oneself.

Back then, casting magic was reliant entirely on manipulating external mana. Back then, only a handful of mages existed in the world. And even those few, with their extraordinary talents, could only perform minor miracles.

That was how magic was in ancient times.

.

.

“What do you think?”

“This is... This is possible for you...?” asked Harriet incredulously.

“I can only manage this much, though.”

Eleris, the head of the Tuesday family, had mastered some techniques for harnessing natural mana. And when Harriet inquired if she could somehow harness the mana that naturally occurred within the world, Eleris had done so, and demonstrated some small yet remarkable miracles.

They were spells that modern mages found simple, but Eleris had performed them in the ancient way. They could summon flames, lightning, and even fireballs, though it took considerable time.

“Can I do it too?” Harriet asked.

Even for someone who had lived hundreds of times longer than Harriet, these feats were barely within reach. To such an ancient being, the young mage’s question might have seemed like reckless bravado. She could have easily chastised her for dreaming of such power after only twenty years of life.

But Eleris understood the hope behind Harriet’s question.

“Of course, Harriet. You’ll do it much better than I ever could.”

And so the head of the Tuesday family did not mock Harriet. Instead, she shared all the knowledge she had with her.

Reinhart often regretted not being able to offer Harriet the same opportunities as those in the Empire. But that regret stemmed from a misunderstanding. Harriet had access to something unique, something unmatched anywhere on the continent. She was surrounded by the five Vampire Lords, beings who had existed for countless ages.

They were far more than mere Archmages. Beyond their magical prowess and skills, they were beings who had amassed countless spells and learned numerous secret arts over the ages. These weren’t just mages who dabbled in magical theory; they were masters who could wield the arcane secrets they held.

Whenever Harriet had a question, she needed only to ask, and they would share with her vast amounts of knowledge she had yet to discover.

Having lived for so long, their magical progress had essentially plateaued. They had reached the limits of their individual potential. Yet, they eagerly shared their wisdom with Harriet, who was willing to explore any possibility.

All the Vampire Lords were intrigued by how far someone with her unparalleled talent might go. Since their arrival in Edina, Harriet had become, in essence, a disciple of the five Vampire Lords.

Most mages would be fortunate to have even one Archmage as a mentor. But Harriet had five Vampire Lords, whose lifespans far exceeded any Archmage, guiding her on her journey.

Sometimes, she learned from Eleris. Other times, it was Lucinil who guided her. There were days when Lruien shared his wisdom,aAnd moments when Galarsh imparted his insights. Even Antirianus had his turn.

From each of them, Harriet received endless knowledge and inspiration.

She was not in a poor environment for magical studies; she was in the best one imaginable. The greatest genius in history was researching magic in a setting that had never existed before.

Harriet de Saint-Ouen had experienced moments where she had no choice but to push her talent to its limits. This was the time for all that effort to bear fruit.

The vast knowledge and wisdom accumulated by these elder beings since ancient times—how would it manifest in the hands of a mage barely over twenty?

It was time for her to show the world.

Harriet had devised a system that allowed her to wield magic almost instantly, using her body as a living magic scroll. She had invented Power Cartridges that let her harness external mana as if it were her own. And she had also been delving into ancient magic, mastering the art of using natural mana.

Once, with her own mana depleted, she had crafted a magic circle on the spot to summon lightning using the natural mana around her.

Harriet had already discovered a way to draw a magic circle on her body to quickly cast spells. But when the mana within her body was exhausted, and the Power Cartridges ran dry, she could no longer perform magic. Therefore, she needed a new, nearly limitless source.

She would tap into the vessel called nature. If she could harness magic through a vessel that approached infinity, she could wield magic that transcended all limits.

But using a vessel beyond the confines of the body was no simple feat.

.

.

“Scribe, how is that different from Akasha?” Antirianus asked.

“Sorry...?” Harriet responded.

“If you claim that this is a magic that can encompass all magic, and Akasha is a magic that can manifest all magic, then aren’t they essentially the same?” he mused with an enigmatic smile.

As she took in Antirianus’s words, Harriet realized the magnitude of her dream. Yet, the old sage wasn’t trying to dissuade her from dreaming.

“However, Akasha was merely a magical tool. So why wouldn’t it be possible to realize your vision with magic?” he continued. He seemed to believe that Harriet had the potential to achieve her vision.

“Akasha was a magical tool that recorded and reproduced principles,” he explained.

“I’ve heard that was the case...” she replied.

“Then who can say that it’s impossible to create a magic that becomes the source of all magical principles?” Antirianus mused.

Ultimately, her dream was even more ambitious than she had initially realized.

While the underlying principle might differ, her goal was to create a magic that was similar to Akasha. However, it didn’t need to be an exact replica. She didn’t have to recreate everything; simply implementing the magic was enough.

The magic she envisioned was singular in its purpose.

.

.

“Everything,” she whispered to herself.

More precisely, she dreamed of “a source of magic that can become anything.”

Just like Akasha.

If she could craft a magic capable of manifesting any spell, she could conjure every enchantment imaginable.

In essence, she would hold the seed of all magic.

That fundamental magic would transform based on how its seed was nurtured.

Akasha was a tool that documented every principle. Harriet had no desire to create Akasha, nor did she believe it was within her reach. There was no need to record and understand every principle. There was no need to create something so vast.

Instead, she aimed to create a form Akasha that could only manifest magic. An absolute principle that could evolve into all other principles.

With just that one thing, she could create all the magic there was.

Akasha was the concept of uniting everything in the world into a singular entity. That was Akasha at its core.

This was a different idea: something that could transform into anything.

But wasn’t that Akasha, too? Even if the approach differed, if the outcome remained unchanged, Even if the scope was more limited, couldn’t that still be considered Akasha?

Akasha had become a world. Yet, Harriet couldn’t even begin to imagine such a reality. To create countless things, vast amounts of mana were needed. Therefore, she had to draw from the natural mana in the world.

It seemed impossible. No one had ever attempted it. But there was someone who believed the impossible could be achieved.

Someone who asked, “Why not try it?”

Someone who wondered, “Couldn’t you do it?”

.

.

“But still, how can you say it won’t work without even trying?”

“Do you think people avoided this method because they were stupid? The people who created modern magic theory were smarter and more brilliant than you—”

“What if all those people were stupid?”

That comment stopped her in her tracks. “What?”

At the time, she thought he was just teasing her.

But he was being serious.

“What if all those people were actually less intelligent than you, and that’s why they came up with the current magic theory?”

“Wh—what... What are you talking about?”

“What if every mage in history was less intelligent than you?”

Even while Harriet was nowhere near being considered an Archmage, he still said it with such confidence, without a trace of doubt.

“Are you... serious right now?”

“Of course, I’m serious.”

He spoke with such confidence, as if it were obvious that every mage in history paled in comparison to her.

“How... How much of a genius do you think I am? On what basis... do you think I’m that—”

“You’ll become the greatest mage in history, across the continent, regardless of race. You know my ability.”

“Yeah, I do...”

He had the power to turn belief into reality. It was a strange ability, but it was the very force that had propelled him to this point.

“I believe that it will happen,” he said.

He declared his belief, with unwavering confidence in that ability.

There was no doubt in Reinhart’s heart.

Harriet couldn’t accept that every mage in history was less intelligent than she was. But there was someone who believed in her. Someone who assured her she could achieve it.

So, in response to that faith, in response to that seemingly impossible belief...

She felt compelled to prove it true.

Even if she doubted it.

If he believed it, she would believe it too. Just once.

She hoped to become what he’d described.

The greatest in history.

Unprecedented.

She would prove what it meant to be the world’s greatest mage.

She would become the infinite mage, wielding infinite mana.

Rumbleeee!

Harriet’s hair fluttered in the breeze, and the bundle of Power Cartridges around her neck swayed gently.

She drew upon her own mana and the energy from the Power Cartridges, combining them like a spark.

Harriet needed that spark to ignite a great fire.

Blue mana lines flew off her body, leaping into the air and beginning to take shape.

Soon, the blue mana lines pouring out of Harriet became visible to other mages, even those far away.

Rumbleeee!

—What... what is that...?

No one understood what was happening, except Harriet.

The blue threads emanating from her body started to form a shape in the sky.

Although it was a form that no one had ever seen or attempted before, the mages had no choice but to acknowledge what it was.

Lines drawn in the air. Shapes. Symbols. Characters. The way they were interconnected.

—A magic circle...?

—That’s... a magic circle?”

Typically, magic circles took on a flat, two-dimensional form.

Harriet was tracing a magic circle in the air, weaving mana lines into a form that had never existed before.

A three-dimensional shape.

And beyond that...

To detect and absorb the real-time flow of mana, the magic circle had to adapt and transform continuously.

A four-dimensional magic circle, shifting its shape to match the situation, appeared in the air.

No, it was being embroidered.

Rumbleeeeee!

Mana lines continued to surge from Harriet’s body, leaping into the sky and weaving themselves into a massive sphere.

It was as if a giant star made of magic was being born.

Riana, her eyes wide with awe, watched the extraordinary transformation unfold as the storm of mana raged on beside her.

When the storm-like anomaly finally subsided, the mages around saw something extraordinary floating in the sky.

A glowing blue spherical magic circle.

No, it was more like a magical star.

It was the source of all magical principles, capable of manifesting any magic.

In essence, it was the very principle of the world itself.

The countless phenomena of the universe.