Chapter 165. Oasis (2)
Caron sifted through the memories of his previous life.
The Queen of the Succubi was known as one of the strongest among the subordinates of Sloth.
Succubi, in general, were among the weakest of all demonic entities. They had virtually no combat abilities of their own. From the beginning, they had been nothing more than lowly creatures that fed on the dreams of mortals.
But the woman before him was different. She ruled over all succubi as a disruptor who blurred the line between dreams and reality.
Four years ago, she had been weaker—so much so that Caron hadn't recognized her for what she was. But now, he could see her clearly.
"You don't look surprised," Laia, the Queen of the Succubi, said with a playful lilt in her voice.
Her black-feathered wings moved slowly, her dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her violet eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Had anyone else seen her, they would perhaps have described her beauty as breathtaking—so stunning it could leave one gasping for air. She looked like a fallen angel from the scriptures. Only the small horns protruding from her head betrayed her true nature.
A soft rustling sound filled the room, and black petals fluttered through the air. Each petal was infused with potent dark mana.
"Hmm... How did you figure out that he was my little plaything?" Laia asked, tilting her head.
Caron scoffed and answered, "The same way you instinctively gag when you smell something rotten. Do I really need to explain it?"
"You woke the Crown Prince. Even with the Saintess' power, that should have been difficult..." Laia said as her gaze drifted to the sword in Caron's hand, a smile playing on her lips.
"Was it Guillotine's power? You've gotten much better at wielding it compared to four years ago. I was planning to wait patiently beyond the North Sea, but the King gave me a rather tedious task. And what can a servant do but obey?" she continued.
Floating in midair, Laia slowly descended to the ground.
Swoosh.
As she clasped her hands together, the swirling black petals gathered toward her fingertips. In an instant, they transformed into black roses.
With delicate grace, Laia held the bouquet of dark roses in both hands, her cheeks tinged a soft red. She stepped toward Caron with an almost shy expression. "This is my gift. I heard that humans like flowers, don't th—"
Suddenly, Laia was interrupted.
Sching!
Before she could finish, Caron swung Guillotine without hesitation. The wave of energy extending from his blade condensed into a single, razor-thin line. That line sliced through the bouquet—and through Laia's body—effortlessly.
"You always slice me in half when we meet," Laia said with a pout. "If you keep this up, I might get mad."
Her body had been cleanly severed, yet no blood spurted from the wound. Only petals scattered into the air...
As expected.
"When are you ever going to show up in person?" Caron asked, his voice edged with irritation. "I'm getting sick of this."
After all, even this form of hers was nothing but an illusion. But her illusions were dangerous. Unlike ordinary succubi, Laia—the wretched thing that she was—had the power to turn illusions into reality.
Still lying on the floor, her upper half detached from her lower half, Laia giggled. She asked Caron provocatively, "Oh? Do you want to see my true form that badly? I didn't know you thought about me so much. But that's moving a little too fast, don't you think? My cute little wolf isn't quite ready to handle me yet."
"Don't talk nonsense," Caron snapped. "You're just a parasite that feeds on life energy. Your mouth is the only thing that works properly."
He strode forward and stomped down on her head.
Crunch!
The illusion was disturbingly realistic, even down to the sensation of a skull being crushed underfoot.
As Caron ground her head beneath his heel, Laia's bisected body scattered into petals. A moment later, she reappeared behind him.
"I'll give you some credit," she said. "You've grown so much that even in this form, I can't leave so much as a scratch on you."
She licked her lips, her violet eyes gleaming.
Whoosh!
The petals she had subtly scattered earlier were now completely subdued by the sea flowing from Caron.
Seeing that, Laia thought again that Caron was a human worth watching; especially his eyes, which brimmed with a deep, all-consuming killing intent. Even Laia couldn't help but be impressed. His murderous aura was so intense that she shuddered.
I want him, Laia thought.
There was no way a mere human should have had such bloodlust. Seventeen years was a trivial amount of time, barely a blink compared to the long lifespan of demons. Laia couldn't believe how someone so young had cultivated such an overwhelming aura of death.
She wanted to devour him right then and there. She wanted to drag him into an endless dream and feast on that killing intent to her heart's content.
But she forced herself to suppress the impulse. The King had taken an interest in this human. If Caron ever crossed the North Sea, she was certain her chance would come, a chance to consume this tantalizing prey.
"The King sent me to deliver a message," Laia said at last.
That was her role: Nothing more than a messenger, delivering the words her King had entrusted to her.
Laia leaned in, whispering in a voice laced with amusement, "He's prepared a gift for you. I have no idea why something like that would be considered a gift... but the King seemed confident you'd understand."
Caron's expression darkened as he wondered why that promise of a gift felt like a trap.
The King wasn't the kind to offer gifts as a gesture of goodwill. And the "King" she referred to could only be the Demon King of Sloth.
"It wasn't a coincidence," Caron muttered.
Sching!
Once again, Caron cut Laia's body cleanly in two.
The Source of the Oasis was the only thing capable of reviving the World Tree. And if the demons had already set their sights on it, it was far too deliberate to be mere coincidence.
"Unfortunately, I'm not the one you'll be fighting today," Laia said with a smirk. "But don't be too disappointed. I'm sure you'll find this battle satisfying."
She flicked a finger, and the swirling petals in the air began to gather and shift. A rusted helmet materialized before them. It was oddly large compared to most helmets, as if its original owner had an unusually massive head.
Caron's expression darkened the moment he saw it. He remembered exactly who that helmet had belonged to.
"...That's the gift the Demon King of Sloth prepared for me?" Caron asked.
Laia felt the waves of hostility surging from him, just as the King had predicted. Her lips curved into a sharp smile.
"The Oasis Altar," she whispered. "The owner of this helmet is waiting for you there. I checked in on him earlier—he won't last much longer."
Thousands of black petals enveloped her.
Standing amid the sea of petals filling the bedroom, Laia spoke one last time. "You'd better hurry."
Caron responded in a low, cold voice, "Didn't I tell you before? Don't rush me."
"Ooh, it's always so thrilling so see you when you're angry—" Laia said, but was cut off.
Fwoooosh!
Before she could finish, Caron's sea surged forward, obliterating her black petals without a trace.
Thud.
Caron drove his sword into Aslan's abdomen, pinning him to the ground. Then, through Guillotine, he shattered the contract binding Aslan to Laia.
"Uuugh...!" Aslan coughed up a mouthful of blood, his body convulsing.
Caron looked down at him with cold indifference and said, "I'll deal with you later."
Punishing this pathetic fool could wait until after everything else was finished. Right now, he had more important matters to handle.
"Aww, but he was such a fun little toy," Laia pouted. "His jealousy was so delicious."
With the contract forcibly severed, her form rapidly began to dissolve. Even as she faded, however, she kept her eyes fixed on Caron's face.
"I'll be waiting for you at the Oasis," Laia purred. "I can't wait to see your expression when you lay eyes on it. I do hope you'll make this fun for me."
With those final words, she vanished.
Caron let out a slow breath, his gaze locked on the empty space where she had stood.
They had invited him to the Ali Oasis, and there was no reason to refuse the invitation.
***
Ten minutes later, on the main road leading to the Ali Oasis, three figures raced forward at full speed.
...His expression is unusual. Nadia, the guardian of the Sultan's royal bloodline, observed Caron's face as she ran.
The young man she'd seen earlier that day was completely devoid of seriousness, but now his expression was rigid, hardened like stone. Nadia could feel the weight of his killing intent. Not just that—hostility, hatred, and emotions far darker and deeper than she could measure swirled within him like a storm.
"Maintain your composure, Caron Leston," Nadia advised in a low voice.
Caron gave a slight nod, then responded, "Thank you for the advice, Dame Nadia."
"If you lose your composure, mistakes will follow. Keep your heart burning, but your mind cold," Nadia continued.
"...That's something Lady Sabina used to tell me often," Caron murmured.
"We must not forget our objective," Nadia reminded him. "Purify the Oasis Altar. That is our sole mission."
The operation had already begun.
The moment Caron subdued Second Prince Aslan, the Crown Prince had swiftly set his plans into motion. He was personally negotiating with the influential nobles who had sided with Aslan, working to bring them back to his cause.
In this situation, the most critical task was obtaining proof of the corruption at the Oasis Altar—evidence that Aslan had tainted it.
That was why the Sultan had willingly assigned Nadia to assist Caron. She was a knight who had reached the pinnacle of 8-Star. There could be no one more reliable in this crisis.
"This is the Oasis," Nadia announced as they finally arrived.
Unlike the desolate desert surrounding it, this place was lush with thriving vegetation.
Nadia retrieved a small pendant from within her robes. As soon as she held it up, a gap formed in the protective barrier surrounding the Oasis.
"Let's go in," she said. "Saintess, the altar isn't far from here. We don't know what dangers may be lurking, so I'll set you down now."
She gently lowered the woman she had been carrying on her back.
"Thank you, Dame Nadia," Seria said.
According to the Crown Prince, the altar had already been corrupted by dark mana two months ago. The reason they had brought the Saintess was to erase every last trace of the taint completely. After all, purifying the land required divine power.
"The entire Oasis is shrouded in dark mana," Seria observed, her voice heavy with dismay. "How could the royal family of the Sultanate allow it to reach this state?"
The signs of corruption were visible everywhere, staining the once-pristine land.
Nadia sighed lightly, then said, "There were no abnormalities as of last week, Saintess."
"That's impossible—" Seria said, but before she could finish, Caron strode forward.
"It's possible if everything was concealed by an illusion. An illusion powerful enough to deceive even the senses of an 8-Star knight," Caron said.
"Among the demons, only one possesses such power... Ah." Seria's expression grew grave as she turned to Caron and asked, "The Queen of the Succubi... Is it her?"
"Second Prince Aslan made a contract with her," Caron confirmed. "She's the root of everything that's happened within the royal family."
At a glance, it was reminiscent of the empire from fifty years ago. The difference was that back then, the Malevolent Emperor had made a pact with the Demon King of Havoc, whereas Aslan had only bound himself to a mere underling of Sloth.
"Dame Nadia, let's head straight for the altar," Caron said firmly.
Nadia nodded and said, "It's just ahead. The altar lies within the royal tomb."
The Oasis was dark, its once-clear waters stained with murky corruption. At its center stood a magnificent structure, grand even in its decay. A statue of a figure holding a shield guarded the entrance, silent and unmoving.
Without hesitation, they passed the statue and entered the tomb. The moment they stepped inside—
The stench was overwhelming. A suffocating wave of dark mana pressed down on them, thick enough to choke the air from their lungs. It was on par with the devastation that had erupted at the previous Gate of Chaos.
Feeling the oppressive weight of it, Caron had no choice but to draw Guillotine.
"When this is over," he muttered, his voice low and venomous, "I'll slice that bastard Aslan apart while he's still breathing. Dame Nadia, you agree, right?"
The sheer volume of sacrifices required to produce this level of dark mana was beyond comprehension.
Nadia didn't answer. She couldn't. She had also realized that this darkness had been fueled by innocent lives.
Tap. Tap.
With their preparations complete, they pressed forward into the tomb, reaching a vast underground chamber.
The luminescent stones embedded in the ceiling bathed the space in a cold, eerie glow. And at the heart of the chamber, standing motionless, was a Death Knight. It was massive—its hulking frame reminiscent of Utula himself.
Kneeling at the center of the chamber, the Death Knight slowly rose the moment it noticed Caron and his group.
"Caron Leston," Nadia said as she unsheathed her slender blade, "I'll handle this. You take the Saintess and cleanse the altar—"
But Caron interrupted by shaking his head slowly, then said, "That one is mine."
"You might not be strong enough," Nadia warned. "That's a Death Knight forged from an 8-Star knight. It's too dangerous."
"...Please, Dame Nadia," Caron said, his voice trembling at the end.
Nadia studied his face. It seemed as if Caron was barely holding back his emotions, but beneath the strain, there was a firm resolve.
Nadia made her decision swiftly.
"Then hold out as long as you can," she said. "I'll cleanse the altar with the Saintess and return to you afterward."
"Understood," Caron said.
"May fortune favor you," Nadia added.
With that, Nadia and Seria hurried away, leaving Caron standing alone.
He turned to the Death Knight with a bitter smirk, then said, "...You dumb bastard."
Perhaps because Kerra was still alive, Caron had naively assumed the others were also safe. But now, he realized just how foolish that assumption had been.
"Why are you just standing there?" Caron asked.
Etched into the Death Knight's armor was the crest of the Imperial Guards. Taking in its massive frame and the disproportionately large head—
"So is this your way of protesting that I came too late?" Caron added.
Creak.
The sound of metal grinding against metal echoed as the Death Knight raised its colossal bastard sword, pointing it at Caron.
Caron exhaled slowly, then spoke the name he had buried deep in his memory. "Ugo."
Ugo Aegis was the fool who had never abandoned the palace, not even at the end. That stubbornly loyal subordinate of his now stood before him, reborn as a Death Knight.