Chapter 219: Fried Egg

Meanwhile, King Hudret captured Duke Yurei's castle without difficulty.

It had already become an empty shell, abandoned so thoroughly that not even the rats that once raided the granaries remained.

Still, it wasn't completely empty.

Valuables too cumbersome to take during the evacuation had been left behind, and the soldiers who had entered the castle without spilling a single drop of blood were diligently gathering every last one of them.

The duke's office had already been transformed into King Hudret's operations room.

"How much treasure did we recover?"

At the king's question, a knight answered,

"Enough to fill three wagons. It's worth well over one hundred thousand Golden."

Considering they had also gained an intact castle and buildings that required no reconstruction, the spoils were more than enough to repay every debt incurred during the war.

"Duke Yurei certainly has a generous streak, handing over a castle like this without resistance."

"Most people would destroy everything before leaving just to make sure we couldn't have it."

"As a fellow human fighting the Demon Race, he must have wanted to leave behind a stronghold that could be used against them."

"Even so, it's a little disappointing. We've won such a great victory, yet there isn't a single pretty girl left for us to embrace."

One of the commanders grinned lewdly, subtly shifting his hips. Another joined in.

"We should've tried persuading a few of the prettier girls from the duchy to stay behind."

"Oh?"

King Hudret calmly drove a Dagger into the commander's thigh.

"Urgh!"

"You lot entered this castle without shedding a drop of blood, yet your greed already knows no bounds. Do you wish to bring ruin upon the kingdom by inviting the curses of those who became heroic spirits?"

"N-No, Your Majesty! I-I'm sorry!"

"Next time, I'll pierce your tongue... and then what's between your legs. The rest of you are no exception."

King Hudret was a practical and rational man.

He knew perfectly well that the so-called curse of heroic spirits was nothing more than a ghost story invented by humans.

Showing respect to the dead was merely an excuse.

His true purpose was to restore the discipline that had begun to slacken by making an example of one man.

As expected, no one dared grin foolishly after that.

"Issue certificates promising that the spoils will be distributed after the war is over. Until then, gather everything in the castle warehouse and station guards around it."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

"When will the reinforcements arrive?"

"Tomorrow. A total of twenty thousand soldiers and laborers. They're already reconstructing the defensive formations using the recorded blueprints. Within a week, this place will become a strategic stronghold."

"Excellent."

Looking over the campaign map, King Hudret contemplated his next move.

Duke Yurei's territory had fallen.

All that remained was the road leading to the Heinkel Kingdom.

Who could have imagined everything would proceed so smoothly?

Originally, his plan had been to drag the war out and pressure Duke Yurei into making reckless decisions.

At the same time, he intended to remain wary of the Arken Empire, which coveted supplies, while squeezing out as much profit as possible.

But now that events had unfolded this favorably...

What comes next?

The capital.

King Hudret's greed was like the jaws of a serpent.

Once it bit down on its prey, it never let go until everything was devoured.

If he had conquered Duke Yurei's territory this easily, then naturally he should conquer the kingdom's capital as well.

Yet one factor prevented him from making that decision so lightly.

"Your Majesty! The scouts sent to reconnoiter enemy territory have returned."

At the guard's report, King Hudret asked,

"Are they on their way to submit their written report?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Have them give the report to the stenographer here instead. Bring every member of the scouting party inside. I'll hear it personally."

"Understood."

The guard hurried off to relay the order.

A short while later, the entire scouting party entered and bowed.

"We greet Your Majesty. We had no time to clean ourselves up, so we beg your forgiveness."

"Report."

"First, the rumors are true. The kingdom is definitely collaborating with the Demon Race. We confirmed the presence of demons inside the castle."

That was unwelcome news.

A war between humans was manageable.

A war against the Demon Race was even more dangerous than fighting monsters.

"What about infiltrating the inner castle?"

"The... inner castle?"

"Have you already forgotten what orders I gave you?"

The king's tone grew sharper.

The scout quickly replied,

"No, Your Majesty. I hesitated because I feared disappointing you. We couldn't reach the inner castle, but we barely managed to scout inside the outer castle."

"I see. What was it like?"

"It was as silent as a grave."

"So everyone is dead?"

"No. There were people inside... but none of them were moving."

"They weren't moving?"

"They were lying down while breathing as little as possible and minimizing every movement. It was as though..."

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"They were reducing all activity... like animals hibernating through winter."

"Humans hibernating..."

"The King of Heinkel must be using Black Magic, offering his own people as collateral for some forbidden ritual."

"Demons and Black Magic... He has fallen deeper into corruption than I imagined."

King Hudret smiled.

"Well done. I wish I could reward you."

"You honor us, Your Majesty."

"That reminds me... I never ordered my scouts to infiltrate the inner castle."

"...What?"

Slash!

The captain's head separated cleanly from his body.

The royal knight standing behind him had seen King Hudret's signal and decapitated him in a single strike.

"I suspected as much, so I pressed the issue. And you walked right into the trap, you filthy agents of the Demon Race."

"D-Damn it!"

The remaining scouts hurriedly drew their swords, but the waiting knights subdued them before they could resist.

Looking down at the corpses, King Hudret clicked his tongue.

He picked up the severed head before him and examined the cross-section of its neck.

"So these demons are called Dopplers?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Curious. I heard demons possess organs different from humans, yet this neck is almost identical to a human's. Just as the rumors claimed—they surpass ordinary doppelgängers. Their ability to transform is remarkable... but it seems they can't absorb another person's knowledge along with their appearance."

He casually dropped the head.

It rolled across the floor toward the soldiers collecting the bodies.

"I've learned something new. Doesn't that mean we now know more about the Demon Race than any other army?"

"Indeed."

The knights spat on the Dopplers' corpses.

"We almost believed the lies those filthy creatures told."

"What are you talking about? Everything they said was almost certainly true."

King Hudret smiled with amusement.

"If you're going to infiltrate as a spy, the first thing you do is earn trust. And the easiest way to earn trust is to appear competent. If a spy manages to become a scout, wouldn't he naturally provide the most valuable information first?"

"I see..."

The knights couldn't hide their admiration.

He had deceived the demons with effortless lies, extracted valuable intelligence from them, and eliminated them without leaving any future trouble.

Whether it had all been planned or improvised hardly mattered.

Either way, it was astonishing.

King Hudret silently reviewed the information they had provided.

Collaboration with the Demon Race.

A king practicing Black Magic.

Citizens hibernating like beasts.

'That Black Magic undoubtedly uses the lives of the people as fuel... and grants immense power in return.'

A supreme spell capable of elevating the King of Heinkel toward the realm of superhumans.

To a king who pursued absolute authority...

It was an irresistible temptation.

***

The bedroom inside Castle Valdrova.

Though the night had grown deep, Ferda Rosnova couldn't fall asleep.

One sentence refused to leave his mind.

'Growing weaker…'

He couldn't understand what that truly meant.

From Ferda's perspective, her fighting style had never changed.

Even if he analyzed all the data, there was little difference between the Valdrova he first met and the one now.

'Except for that jewel-like flame... the one that burned so brilliantly the first time I saw it.'

That flame had been breathtaking.

Powerful enough to melt Frontesium, a metal that could only be smelted within the Primeval Forge.

At the same time, one thing puzzled him.

'Why didn't she use that flame when I tried to kill her?'

He replayed his battle with Grand Duchess Valdrova.

He had barely managed to defeat her.

Had she not chosen to give up her own life in the end, they would have died together.

If she had used that flame against him...

The battle would have tilted much more in her favor.

'And yet she never used it.'

Perhaps she had never fought him with her full strength.

Or perhaps...

'She really is growing weaker.'

That was what Frontesis had claimed.

The flame had still been powerful enough to melt Frontesium...

But it was nowhere near the level she possessed in her prime.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Frontesis had lied.

The two had spoken as though they were close friends, yet after the Dragon-Demon War they had never met even once.

Ferda had no idea what Frontesis truly intended.

If the man bore ill will, perhaps he had simply wanted to burden Ferda with needless anxiety.

'What exactly is the Twilight of Dragons?'

Twilight usually symbolized death.

For beings who called themselves immortal and had ruled the world for countless ages...

To predict their deaths was the gravest possible insult.

'Aren't you yourself growing weaker? And so is Valdrova.'

Were the other dragons the same?

Could the passage of time truly erase even those called immortals?

Whether to believe those words was entirely Ferda's choice.

Yet absolute freedom was nothing more than an illusion.

That was precisely why those words continued to haunt him.

His desire demanded that he understand... and somehow solve this mystery.

How can I help her?

In the end, he remained awake all night and watched the sun rise.

Luri entered the room.

Pushing a breakfast cart, she glanced at Ferda's face before asking,

"Did you have trouble sleeping last night?"

Not wanting to admit he'd been worrying about Valdrova—and hear whatever comments Luri might make—Ferda answered vaguely.

"I couldn't sleep."

"I'll prepare some tea that's good for inducing sleep. In the meantime, here's your breakfast."

Luri's breakfasts were always simple.

A healthy salad.

Fresh bread.

Butter.

Black tea.

The side dishes never changed.

Only the main dish varied.

Wondering what it would be today, Ferda looked toward the plate placed in the center.

Today's main dish was...astonishing.

So astonishing that, for a brief moment, it drove all his worries away.

"...?"

He stared at it.

Judging by its shape, it was clearly meant to be a fried egg—an egg cracked into a frying pan and cooked.

However...

Instead of simple white and yellow, the object before him shimmered in every color imaginable.

Unable to comprehend it, Ferda turned to Luri.

"...Would you mind telling me what I did wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I've done something wrong, I'll apologize."

"You haven't done anything wrong, Sir Ferda. At least... not yet."

"Then why are you protesting through food?"

At his question, Luri became indignant instead.

"That's really too much! To say such things about something our Master personally made..."

"Master?"

Luri had only one master.

And Ferda knew exactly who that was.

"Lady Valdrova made it herself."

"Valdrova..."

Hearing that, the object before him somehow looked different.

This was a fried egg lovingly prepared by Valdrova's own hands.

"...It seems my fiancée possesses extraordinary talent..."

"...For alchemy."

Unfortunately...

Not even love could disguise the tragedy before him.

Even Luri insisted on calling it an object instead of food.

"...Have you ever tasted it?"

"You don't need to taste something to know whether it's manure or soybean paste. Why would I?"

"And Her Majesty?"

"Of course not. She doesn't even understand the concept of tasting food while cooking."

"So... I'm the only one destined to suffer."

"Everyone else is happy."

Perhaps that was fortunate in its own way.

Ferda gently poked the fried egg.

The fluorescent yolk—or what had once been the yolk—burst open, releasing a fragrant aroma.

What filled it...was Valdrova's warm feelings for him.

And Luri's frantic shouting echoed in his imagination.

- Hold the frying pan properly! If you grip it like that, you won't have any control!

- Add some oil! Just a little... a little more... no, not that much! At this rate you'll be serving deep-fried eggs instead of fried eggs!

- Only a tiny pinch of salt! Just a pinch... No! Not the whole handful... Well... it's fine. I'm not the one eating it anyway.

- Master! Do you know how many eggs you've used? One hundred! A full one hundred eggs! If we had to send every hen a letter of condolence saying her sons died a meaningless death, the royal treasury would go bankrupt just paying the postage!

...No.

That last one was a little excessive.

Someone like Penelope would probably be the one saying something like that.

"If you don't want to eat it, you don't have to."

A ray of hope lit up Ferda's face as he looked at Luri.

Before he could even ask if she really meant it, she silently gestured toward the door.

Following her gaze, he saw a small, adorable creature crouching there...

A creature with terrifying horns.

It was staring directly at him.

Behind that mask...he could practically feel its eager anticipation resonating with his heart.

...Wait.

Is that really anticipation?