At the heart of the capital of the Helmuth Empire, Pandemonium lay the castle of the Demon King of Incarceration — Babel. On the ninetieth floor of Babel was the office of Duke Gavid Lindman. For days, Gavid Lindman had been swamped with paperwork and unable to rest.
Many high-ranking demons had headed to Nahama under the guise of tourism, but Gavid knew better. Not a single one of them had crossed for mere sightseeing. The Demon King of Incarceration had also remained silent on Nahama’s situation and offered no guidance to Gavid. Yet, Gavid couldn't afford to do nothing.
He had to prepare statements for contingencies. If war broke out in Nahama with demons at the forefront, it would cause chaos. The reputation and perception of demons, which had been painstakingly built over the last three hundred years, would be utterly shattered.
However, did the reputation of demons really matter? After all, the end of the Oath and, thereby, peace had already been declared. Unfortunately, Gavid still had to prepare for whatever outcome.
‘What if I send troops to support Nahama?’ Gavid thought to himself.
Officially, Helmuth and Nahama were not allies. However, most would assume that Helmuth was the supporting power behind Nahama.
To be honest, Gavid felt it was unfair. He had never authorized military or material support to Nahama.
‘But it would be no good to try and say that,’ Gavid sighed.
There was no need for him to waste his efforts either. Gavid pondered while pressing on his temples. He had a throbbing headache. Helmuth wouldn't support Nahama in the war. Even if a war broke out, Helmuth would not participate.
What were the misled demons promised in exchange for stirring a war? Edmund's attempted ritual to create a Demon King? Gavid doubted it would succeed, but if it did… the conflict in the arid desert would engulf the whole world. The flames would grow beyond control. If Amelia’s ritual brought forth a newly risen Demon King amidst the war….
‘It would be the second coming of the era of war,’ concluded Gavid.
He recalled the era when five Demon Kings coexisted.
He didn’t consider the rise of a new Demon King a threat. Simply putting on a crown did not confer one with a king’s authority. Even Iris, the Abyssal Princess, had failed to reign successfully after becoming a Demon King. Why would a Demon King born from a group of demons who failed to even secure a position in Pandemonium ever be considered a threat?
Moreover, even in the distant past, his master, the Demon King of Incarceration, stood apart from other Demon Kings.
‘But… if another Demon King joins the war, it would essentially signify the end of the Oath,’ Gavid surmised.
The Demon King of Incarceration was waiting for Eugene Lionheart to ascend Babel. However, the Demon King of Incarceration's silence indicated that he might not be insisting on this particular method. After all, Amelia had been preparing for war for a long time, and the Demon King of Incarceration had turned a blind eye.
‘If the war in Nahama brings an end to the Oath, there is no need for Helmuth to feign neutrality either,’ Gavid realized.
It crossed his mind that preparing military support would be wise. Perhaps he could send an army of demons… or dispatching the Black Mist alone would be sufficient. Of course, even though he was a duke and the commander of the Black Mist, he couldn’t make a decision alone.
His sleepless nights weren’t solely due to Nahama either. He also had to prepare for a potential war in Helmuth. He had witnessed Eugene Lionheart’s capabilities in Shimuin. Gavid knew he could not underestimate the Hero. Eugene had already defeated a Demon King, even if it were just Iris.
He needed a plan for evacuating civilians, especially human immigrants.
Though he questioned the need for demons to protect humans, Gavid was bound by Helmuth’s laws that prioritized the safety of human immigrants and tourists. He couldn’t simply ignore the laws unless he received a command from the Demon King of Incarceration to do otherwise.
He needed to train troops for war as well. He needed to organize the troops, and he was sure he would spend another night planning with the strategists downstairs.
‘Eugene Lionheart is still in Giabella City. There’s no way he joined hands with Noir, but I can’t simply ignore this either.’ Gavid thought of another problem.
Noir Giabella was showing overt favor and fondness towards Eugene. Though he knew she wouldn’t ally with someone out of mere fondness, Gavid knew how Noir was consumed by her desires.
“…..” He was suddenly interrupted in his thought process.
Gavid set down the paperwork before removing his glasses with a look of perplexity.
“This can’t be an illusion,” he muttered.
He was genuinely unsettled. He struggled to compose his expression and voice. Standing up, Gavid muttered to himself once again, “Am I dreaming? Or… am I seeing ghosts?”
That face. It had been three hundred years, but Gavid never forgot it, even for a second.
Hamel of Extermination had plagued his dreams in the past, even as nightmares.
But he wasn’t seeing a ghost. Hamel did not emit any energy typical of the undead. He was standing by the window, and there was a lively aura around him as if he was very much alive.
‘What is this?’ Gavid thought, mystified.
Hamel was dead. He died in Babel three hundred years ago. Gavid narrowed his eyes and intently observed Hamel.
…He realized a few differences.
The figure standing there, Hamel, bore no scars whatsoever. The sword marks left by Gavid, as well as the numerous scars Hamel had acquired in the Devildom, signified his brushes with death. They were all gone.
Moreover, instead of emitting death energy, Hamel radiated a certain liveliness, yet something was notably absent.
‘There’s no mana,’ Gavid observed.
The fact that he couldn't sense any mana from Hamel shocked him more than anything else, even though Gavid was looking at him directly.
…No, was this really even Hamel?
Finally, Gavid asked, “…Weren’t you supposed to be in Ravesta?”
He concluded that the being before him was something else disguised in Hamel’s skin. It was a fake created by Amelia from the remnants of Hamel’s memories.
“Until a few days ago,” came the response.
Gavid’s expression hardened. “And Amelia Merwin?” he asked.
“Sent to Nahama,” came the response.
Gavid’s eyes emitted a red glow. When he peered at the specter with his Demoneye of Divine Glory, he felt a strong throb pulse from within. Gavid clicked his tongue while frowning.
“…Have you made a contract with the Demon King of Destruction?” he asked.
Despite being a direct witness, Gavid struggled to believe it.
He knew the Demon King of Destruction didn’t discriminate in choosing his followers, but a pact with an entity that wasn't quite a demon, or a wizard, or even a living entity seemed extreme.
‘A contract…?’ Gavid wondered.
Yet, as he looked even deeper, a heavy feeling weighed on him. He had been subject to a similar sensation in the past. It was when he had been near the Demon King of Destruction.
‘How could this…?’ Gavid thought, shocked.
The dark power of Destruction did not discriminate. If one could not contain it, the dark power would cause the vessel to self-destruct. Amelia wouldn’t be able to withstand the dark power of Destruction, so how could her creation, a mere imitation, withstand such immense power? The more Gavid thought about it, the less he understood.
What puzzled him even more was how the specter was even here.
This was the center of Pandemonium, Babel. Even Gavid himself couldn’t enter Babel without being detected. And yet, the specter not only entered but also reached the ninetieth floor undetected. Gavid had only noticed the specter’s presence because he had made himself known by emanating his aura.
“How did you—.” Gavid was never given the opportunity to finish. He instinctively retreated and grabbed his sword, Glory.
The specter was standing closer. His face was scarless and eerily calm. It was truly a bizarre sight. When did he move? The specter had simply disappeared before reappearing. It was that simple.
But that was exactly what made it even more confusing. Gavid was flabbergasted. He had missed his opponent while using the Demoneye of Glory?
It wasn’t that the specter had moved fast or teleported. Instead, he had literally vanished and then reappeared, much like the Demon King of Destruction during the war.
“…Remarkable.” Gavid steadied his emotions as he began to grasp the situation. Now wasn't the time to ponder about the specter’s identity or powers. Was he a friend or foe? Regardless, he would be held accountable for trespassing.
Click.
As Glory was released from its sheath, the specter raised his hand in response. Although he held no weapon, he willed a sword. That was enough. A sword formed from grayish-dark power materialized in his empty hand.
Baaang!
The air was ripped apart. Gavid had released fierce attacks upon unsheathing the sword, creating thousands of afterimages. A culmination of a maelstrom of dark power shook the office.
The specter did not retreat a single step, yet the slicing attack and the ensuing storm could not harm him. As the attack commenced and the storm followed, Hamel's sword also danced, altering the trajectory of every strike without moving from his spot.
Gavid didn't miss this spectacle. His Demoneye captured exactly how Hamel’s sword moved during that fleeting moment. He realized that the movements of the specter far surpassed the realm of the extraordinary.
"So an imitation can surpass the real thing when it reaches an extreme,” Gavid commented with a twisted smile.
The source of the specter’s sword skills was Hamel. Gavid wasn't speaking out of mockery. As a warrior himself, he acknowledged the prowess of the specter’s swordsmanship.
"Surpassed?" the specter said.
His eyes glimmered.
He couldn't take those words as praise. The claim that he had surpassed the real thing felt like a deep wound in his heart. He knew all too well that his swordsmanship was ultimately derived from the original. It wasn't extraordinary enough to surpass the source.
The sword skills he possessed started with Hamel. The specter had been made as a copy, and all of his memories belonged to Hamel. No matter how much he refined his swordsmanship, he could not change its fundamental essence.
He had seen Eugene's sword.
He didn’t want to admit it back then, but now he accepted it as a fact. If he could cross swords again, he would feel it. His sword still resembled the real Hamel's.
But had he really surpassed it?
‘Impossible,’ the specter declared to himself.
Eugene's life was incomparably more intense than anything the specter had experienced. While the specter struggled with receiving the power of Destruction, Eugene had slain Raizakia and the Demon King of Fury. If he were the real Hamel, he would have continually honed his skills. Such thoughts caused the specter’s face to contort.
The specter brewed with killing intent. The ominous power that formed his sword resonated with his murderous intent. It spread and corroded the space around them.
At that moment, Gavid felt a strange sense of alienation. The office where he had spent over a hundred years suddenly felt like an entirely different world.
"How dare you!" Gavid exclaimed.
Anger was the only response Gavid could muster. This place was right below the palace of the Demon King of Incarceration. It was a place closest to the Demon King of Incarceration. Allowing the dark power of another to invade was unthinkable. Gavid's hand gripped Glory tighter.
Clink.
The sound from 'above' caused Gavid to stiffen. He immediately stopped himself, stepped back, and kneeled on one knee.
The specter, too, was startled. He looked up. Where the ceiling had been, there was only darkness. It was as if a starless twilight sky had been transplanted right there.
In the midst of that profound darkness was the Demon King of Incarceration.
"Gavid Lindman," the Demon King of Incarceration said.
Gavid slightly raised his head and looked up.
"Step back,” commanded the Demon King of Incarceration.
"But, Your Majesty—" Gavid protested, only to be interrupted.
"He is my guest," the Demon King of Incarceration said.
The quiet reply left no room for Gavid's protest. He quickly sheathed Glory from its half-drawn state and bowed deeply.
Whoosh.
The moment Glory was sheathed, the space transformed. The specter looked around in surprise. Just moments ago, he was in Gavid's office, but now... he found himself amid pitch-black darkness.
"What shall I call you?" The Demon King of Incarceration spoke again. He was still looking down at Hamel from high above. "Hamel Dynas? Or do you prefer another name?" he asked.
The specter remained silent, and the Demon King of Incarceration slightly tilted his head before giving a faint smile. He observed Hamel for a while before smiling broadly.
"You've come here,” he spoke.
The darkness rippled.
"Not to receive a name," the specter replied.
The power emanating from the specter vibrated through the hall. It caused the smile of the Demon King of Incarceration to deepen.
"It's not by Vermouth's will either,” the Demon King of Incarceration commented.
"What do you know—." The specter swallowed his words mid-sentence. He realized that such questions were not important to him at the moment.
The specter raised his right arm. He held no weapon. He didn't need one now. But if he were Hamel.... He would have held a weapon, probably a sword.
The specter felt a bittersweet regret. If possible, he would have liked to cross swords properly with Gavid Lindman.
"Are you harboring confusion?" the Demon King of Incarceration asked. He still wore a smile. He had not predicted the specter’s presence and the current situation.
The Demon King of Incarceration relished in such irregularities.
"Are you seeking meaning in your existence, in the power you've acquired?" he continued.
Creak.
Chains emerged from the darkness. Countless chains rose like spearheads and pointed at the specter.
He had become the Incarnation of Destruction. Could this power affect the Demon King of Incarceration? The specter was uncertain. Thus, he needed verification.
If it worked, could he attack the Demon King of Incarceration with this power? And then what?
Would there be a next step? Challenging the Demon King of Incarceration, verifying, retreating, and then joining Eugene? It sounded absurd. It was absurd. Aside from whether the Demon King of Incarceration would show such unfathomable mercy, risking one's life for such uncertainty was ludicrous. Days had passed since he departed from Ravesta.
He saw many things on his way to Pandemonium. He saw the Devildom of Helmuth. He saw how the world had transformed. It wasn’t entirely new. He had seen Helmuth several times when he was a Death Knight.
Yet, the emotions he felt now were different.
He saw things he had ignored.
He looked into things he had not thought to check.
He read fairy tales and history books. He looked at the newspapers and watched the news on the streets.
As he learned more and more, the self-loathing inside of him only swelled.
He even felt like dying.
"Is that so?" the specter spat, then he vanished.
Not at all surprised by this development, the Demon King of Incarceration chuckled. He sensed an alien force melting into the darkness. It was an empty intent to kill. The Demon King of Incarceration felt a stabbing sensation from behind.
"So you would rather die at my hands,” he commented.
The Demon King of Incarceration accurately pierced through the specter’s intentions. And it was pretty obvious. If the specter were to die here, at the hands of the Demon King of Incarceration, unlike Hamel, who couldn’t even reach this point and instead was killed by Incarceration’s Staff, the specter would have gotten further than Hamel from three centuries back. Then, he wouldn't need to stew in torturous contemplation or feel self-loathing, greed, and envy.
"Even in that sense, you are like Hamel," the Demon King of Incarceration said, shaking his head. A smile still graced his face.
Fate often repeated itself.
The Demon King of Incarceration knew this better than any other Demon King, any god, or anyone else in this world, for that matter.
And so, he could assert: The current fate had never been repeated.