Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 671

Rumble...

The battlefield was a whirlwind of chaos. Too many things were going on, and strange occurrences were happening deep within Diane, where a dragon from another world had emerged.

Yet only a handful of people had witnessed all those bizarre happenings firsthand.

Splash...

The relentless torrent of rain continued to fall like a curtain, while thick clouds of steam created by the flames and explosive blasts further obscured the view of the battlefield.

Even without these obstacles, the soldiers of the Allied Forces couldn’t afford to focus on the area where all the strangeness was occurring. They were locked in fierce combat with the remaining monsters, and the Immortals, in a wild frenzy, were indiscriminately slaughtering both the Allied Forces and the monsters, adding to the turmoil. No one was watching what was transpiring in the depths of Diane.

Suddenly, an ash-gray torrent shot skyward before settling back down, and another anomaly appeared—a massive cloud loomed overhead. It was dark, much like the storm clouds that unleashed torrents of rain. But this cloud hung too low to be just a part of the storm. Within it, faces of despairing humans flickered in and out of view, twisting and turning as if the cloud itself were alive.

Only a few understood that this was the collective souls of all who had perished.

Yet...

Gargh... Agh... Ah...

The ominous, eerie, and mournful cries emitted by this dark cloud echoed across the battlefield, a whisper that reached the ears of everyone on it. Some, overwhelmed by the despair that it carried, shed tears without knowing why.

And right beneath that massive cloud...

Splash...

A man cradled an unconscious woman in the pouring rain.

“Ah...”

With a look of despair, he gazed blankly at the sky, rain streaming down his face.

He had done everything he could. He had finally managed to bring her back. But it had not been a complete success.

The Incantation he had declared so forcefully to banish the spirits had only partially worked. They had vanished from Ellen Artorius’s body, but they had not left the world entirely.

Their eerie wails still echoed across the landscape, a haunting reminder of their presence. This entity could either find another host or, even without one, unleash curses that would lead to the world’s ruin.

The Demon King, cradling the girl he had finally reclaimed, gazed grimly up at the sky. If he couldn’t make them disappear, the catastrophe they represented would persist. They might possess another, or worse, return to Ellen Artorius. They could even take over the Demon King’s own body.

The tension in the air was almost solid enough to tough.

Suddenly, with a pop, someone appeared beside the Demon King.

“Something absurd has happened,” said the newcomer.

It was Antirianus, an old mage and vampire, his face adorned with a sly grin that hinted at some devious scheme. Though they had achieved the initial victory they’d sought, the girl had fainted, and the Demon King was utterly exhausted.

The Demon King, who was sitting on the ground with the precious girl in his arms, pointed a trembling finger at the sky. Even that simple gesture lacked strength.

“Are you alright?” Antirianus asked.

“...”

“Even I cannot predict what will happen next.”

The Demon King was too weak to even speak. He struggled to lift his head and meet the gaze of the old vampire who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He felt his vision beginning to blur.

“Now that you’ve reclaimed everything, I’d relish the thrill of snapping your neck at this very moment, when you have it all, even without consuming that thing.”

Silence hung in the air. The old vampire reveled in such moments of intense despair.

“If I were to consume that thing, wouldn’t I naturally want to kill you in the state you are in?”

.

.

In the past, the Demon King had made a proposition to the old vampire, back when he’d realized that the vengeful spirits had been transferred into Ellen Artorius’s body, and that it was Antirianus who had suggested it.

After foreseeing a future in which he would meet his end, instead of killing the old vampire, the Demon King had offered him a deal.

“I have a proposal you might find hard to refuse.”

“Ha-ha... That’s quite intriguing.”

The prospect was so compelling that it even caught the old vampire off guard.

“What is it?” he inquired.

“At the very end, wouldn’t you like the chance to be my ultimate adversary and bring about the downfall of everything I’ve built? If that entity somehow escapes Ellen’s body and cannot be destroyed, why not consume it yourself before it wreaks havoc on the world? And in doing so, become my final adversary.”

‘Instead of just hovering on the edges of the story, why not become its ultimate villain?’

If the spirit entity roamed the world without a host, it would become an even bigger issue. If it couldn’t be destroyed, then someone had to bear its burden. So, when the moment came to expel it from Ellen’s body, someone else had to take it on.

“If I absorb it, what do you plan to do?” Antirianus asked.

“I plan to subdue you somehow and lock you away in a permanent prison. If it can’t be destroyed, it must be contained.”

“You mean you’d do that to me since you can’t do it to Ellen Artorius?”

“Exactly.”

“Hohohoho. You’re quite honest,” Antirianus remarked.

“If you don’t want to, just say so.”

The choice was clear: bear witness to the final despair, or be the one to craft it with his own hands. Which would he choose? This was the question the Demon King posed to the old vampire, who reveled in the despair of others.

“I usually prefer to watch everything unfold from the shadows, rather than taking direct action,” the old vampire admitted.

He didn’t particularly enjoy direct action. He preferred manipulating events from behind the scenes. While he liked to twist stories, he wasn’t fond of cutting them short. He might meddle and offer suggestions, but he never insisted that a particular story had to end in despair or happiness.

He never had a strong personal agenda. The fact that he hadn’t yet caused this story to end in despair, despite always having the chance to, proved that.

This time, though, it was different.

“But how could this loyal servant, Antirianus, refuse the command of his lord?” he said.

I had made a request—not to sit idly by, but to become the embodiment of final despair. If he lost the final battle, it would still make for a great story. If he won, it would bring overwhelming despair. The old vampire couldn’t resist such an opportunity.

In the end, after an impossible battle, the Demon King had reclaimed the Hero.

Yet, his thoughts remained unchanged.

With a feeble gesture, he signaled towards the swirling mass of spirits, as if urging Antirianus to do what was necessary.

If the old vampire consumed them, he would cease to be who he was. He had no idea what would happen next. No one did.

Gargh... Gah... Ah...

Antirianus gazed up at the enormous cloud of spirits, still emitting its eerie wails.

In truth, the old vampire might have found his way to this spot even without the Demon King’s request. After all, he was a creature who reveled in despair.

He looked up at the mass of spirits. He could absorb it, savoring every drop. How vast was the despair he could hold within himself? He felt the endless tears of countless souls as if they were his own.

“How... How enticing this is...”

Antirianus felt on the brink of madness from the ecstasy.

He knew it could consume him, even kill him. Despite being aware of the risk, the crazed vampire chose to indulge himself. There was no reason not to. He had lived far too long to simply continue existing. Indulging in twisted pleasures had become the sole purpose of his life. If losing his life was the cost of tasting such a delight, it seemed, if anything, a bargain. He could afford to pay a little more.

The old vampire reached into his cloak, and drew out a crimson red gem from within. Dying after consuming this entity was fine. But he wanted to savor it a little bit longer.

Ever since he’d first agreed to the proposal, he had been making his own secret preparations. Preparations in order to truly relish the experience.

The crimson gem had not originally belonged to Antirianus. It had belonged to a vampire far older than him, a being who had since vanished from existence. Many speculated that this vampire had been chasing the elusive Philosopher’s Stone, but the reality was quite different.

The gem was imbued with a wish—a desperate hope to grant a soul to a certain girl. It had been crafted as a vessel meant to contain souls.

But the wish had failed.

The truth was simple: a soul cannot be created. It was impossible to conjure something that did not exist into being. After years of relentless research, the vampire realized this truth. The futile quest was completed, and that vampire had faded into nothingness, leaving only the gem behind.

A vessel for containing souls... A remarkable artifact, yet utterly useless. It was a miraculous stone that offered no aid to those who truly needed it. That, too, was despair.

The old vampire had never spoken of this stone to the Demon King. After all, it seemed to offer a neat resolution, an option that could seal that entity away entirely or erase it from existence.

Just as he refrained from meddling directly, he disliked offering decisive assistance as well. But now, it was necessary to use this item, to properly claim that “thing.”

To become the ultimate embodiment of despair.

Since the Demon King had asked him to, he was determined to become the most profound avatar of despair imaginable.

“Come... lost souls...”

The crimson gem hovered above the old vampire’s right hand, glowing ominously.

“I wish to devour your despair.”

Whoosh!

The gem radiated light, and dozens of concentric circles formed around it.

The old vampire was attempting a massive soul absorption spell, something he had never dared to try before.

Even if the gem was unable to withstand the strain and shattered, it didn’t matter to him. If that happened, he would simply accept the entity into his bare body.

Gragh... Agh... Ah...!

The massive cloud of spirits began to move slowly, as if responding to some unseen force. It wasn’t being drawn in; it was more like it was being dragged.

Grrrrrrrrrah!

The torrent of spirits tried to resist, but the soul vessel forcefully pulled them in like the eye of a storm.

Kyahhhhhhhh!

The wailing, verging on a scream, made it clear that the cloud of vengeful spirits was resisting the pull. Even so, the soul-imbued gem began to devour the spectral mist as if consuming it whole.

Rumble!

The torrent of spirits fought back, yet the soul gem sucked them in with violent force. As it absorbed more and more of the dark entity, a murky taint began to spread within the crimson gem—but it showed no sign of reaching its limit, continuing to swallow up the vast cloud that blanketed the area.

“Oh... Maximilia... How... How did you manage to create something so magnificent?” The old vampire murmured, unable to suppress the awe in his voice. He watched as the soul stone endlessly consumed the cloud of spirits.

How much time had passed?

In the aftermath of the storm that had shattered the earth and torn a hole through the air, the old man stood quietly, clutching the red gem.

Whoosh!

Yet the gem was restless. The stone, brimming with countless souls, looked as if it might shatter at any moment. Despite its grandeur, it was only natural that it couldn’t endure such a burden.

The old vampire stood there, contemplating the stone.

Gulp!

He swallowed it whole.

“Heh. Heh heh. Hee... Hee hee. Hee... Heh heh heh heh heh! Uh heh heh heh heh!”

The vampire, already teetering on the edge of madness, erupted into maniacal laughter. Tears of sorrow streamed down Antirianus’s face, yet a disturbing smile of ecstasy lingered on his lips.

“How could there be... so many... sad things... in the world...”

The old vampire laughed for what felt like an eternity, as if he were entranced by the intoxicating sweetness of despair. Eventually, his laughter faded, and his expression turned cold.

“Ah. Before dinner. There was something I needed to do first...”

The strange timbre of his voice hinted at the cost of consuming the soul stone. The entity known as Antirianus was slowly fading away. But this time, things were different.

In the past, the vengeful spirits had attempted to overcome the owner of the body it possessed. This time, though, the two were becoming one.

Antirianus’s will and the spirits’ will were merging. The ancient vampire was being absorbed into the spirits. He was both Antirianus and the collective of despairing spirits.

Antirianus gazed at the Demon King, who was slumped on the ground with a girl cradled in his arms.

There had been no climactic showdown. The Demon King had simply fainted after achieving an impossible victory in a battle that had drained every ounce of his strength. It was only to be expected.

The creature, no longer a vampire or a cloud of spirits but something entirely different, looked down at the Demon King with quiet intensity.

Even in his unconscious state, the Demon King clung desperately to the girl he had saved.

Splash...

Raindrops fell like tears of despair, and the creature spoke softly to the unconscious figure before him.

“Perhaps this isn’t what you wanted,” it murmured. “After all, ending your life now, when you can’t even fight back, holds no satisfaction.

“You must have pictured a scenario where I’d show up to kill you when you were ready. But... that’s not the case. I enjoy stories that are so brilliant because they are so full of despair, and those so hopeful that they become sacred.”

He smiled wickedly.

“But I also appreciate tales of utter futility.”

The monster slowly approached the fallen Demon King.

There was only one dilemma.

Should it kill the Demon King first? Or the Hero, the Demon King loved?

In the end, both would perish here, at the edge of everything, victims of this new monster, all their efforts rendered futile. That was the miserable and wretched conclusion that awaited them.

The final chapter in this story, which would end in utter futility, beyond great despair or great hope.

This was the result of the Demon King’s choice, and he would have to bear it.

The monster raised his hand, tinged with ash-gray resentment.

“Hmm.”

The monster, poised to strike, sensed something and retreated.

Bang!

Something interposed itself between the monster and its prey. A massive dark greatsword crashed down from above, piercing the ground between them, then vanished like a mirage.

The monster turned its gaze toward the source of the greatsword.

There stood a ghost, drenched in so much void monster blood that it was impossible to tell how much there was, even in the pouring rain.

The ghost’s right arm was shrouded in an eerie dark flame. In its right hand was the dark greatsword, forged from shadows, that had just blocked the path of the monster a moment ago.

The figure, standing resolute before the monster, muttered in a trembling voice, “I still don’t know... what the right answer is. But... even if I don’t know it... I think I know what is most certainly wrong...”

It looked down. “These... These two, dying here... That, at least, seems like the answer with the most wrong in it. Since I don’t know the true answer, I must prevent the outcome that is the most wrong. The most wrong ending.”

It looked up at the old vampire. “I don’t know who you are or what you are. I don’t even know what you want. But step back.”

Rumble!

The ghost, which had suddenly appeared wielding a dark greatsword in its right hand, pointed the weapon at the monster across from it.

“These two must not die here,” the human who had become this ghost declared firmly.

The monster, once a vampire, tilted its head in confusion. “Who are you, appearing so suddenly?”

Sadly, the monster had no idea who the ghost was. The ghost’s name was too insignificant for anyone to recall. But explanations were unnecessary. He understood that his name was too small to be etched into history, so he chose not to reveal it.

“You don’t need to know that,” he said.

He didn’t even feel sad about it.