Chapter 465: A Scare
"Good morning, Monarch Dupravel..." Mauriss said, his ancient and raspy voice slithering through the air as Dupravel felt a shiver crawl down his spine, his skin prickling with goosebumps.
"You have outdone yourself this time. The Eternal Sovereign personally wanted you dead, until I intervened."
’The Eternal Sovereign? Want me dead?’ Dupravel’s thoughts spun as he swallowed hard, the taste of panic settling on his tongue while his body began to tremble like that of a cornered animal.
"M-m-mercy..." he stammered, barely able to hold himself upright, as Mauriss clicked his tongue in disappointment before snapping his fingers.
*Click*
At once, the falling raindrops around them halted in midair, suspended unnaturally as though time itself had been paused, as Mauriss pointed toward Dupravel and gave a small, almost dismissive gesture.
"Crawl here, dog. Before we can have a proper conversation, I will need to clear some of the filth rotting inside your mind."
His words stung more than any whip could, yet Dupravel obeyed without hesitation.
He dropped to all fours and crawled across the soaked stone like a mutt, shame etched across his face as his palms and knees left faint imprints in the wet ground with each pitiful shuffle.
*Print*
*Print*
Every step forward scraped away another layer of his dignity, yet he dared not let the humiliation show.
*Thud*
Reaching Mauriss’s feet, he lowered his head and flattened himself to the ground, prostrating completely in front of the great god.
*Tap*
Mauriss gently touched the crown of Dupravel’s head with the tip of his toe, and instantly, a surge of unbearable pain shot through Dupravel’s skull.
"AAARGGHH!"
His scream ripped through the air, loud enough to startle the two elegant women attending Mauriss.
Though neither woman dared voice her displeasure, Mauriss, noticed the disturbance and, as punishment for the interruption, cruelly deepened the pain.
Dupravel’s vision turned white, his mind slipping into a blank void, but eventually the searing torment faded, and with it, the haze that had long clouded his thoughts began to lift.
"I have removed about seventy percent of the taint clogging your body," Mauriss said flatly. "With that, you should at least be able to act like a civilized human."
Dupravel lowered himself further, his forehead pressing to the stone as he spoke with a trembling voice that, for the first time in months, carried clarity and structure.
"Thank you for your grace, Lord Mauriss."
Nodding, Mauriss smiled slightly, as he looked satisfied with the results of the cleansing.
"Hand over to me the origin metal you have retrieved so far, Dupravel. That is the price you must pay for having your life spared and the taint cleared from your mind," Mauriss commanded, his voice soaked in indifference, as though he were merely collecting on a forgotten debt.
Dupravel’s eyes widened instantly, his breath hitching in disbelief as his gaze remained fixed to the ground, unable to look up.
"My Lord?" he whispered, the words dry and shallow as his body trembled not just from fear, but from the impossible dilemma he now found himself in.
"My Lord, I... I had plans to descend into the black hole myself. I was going to refine the metal inside and offer it to you once the process was complete. In exchange... in exchange for my son, just like we decided previously" he stammered, his voice growing weaker with each word.
"Please... please don’t take that opportunity from me. I beg of you."
Mauriss let out a short breath through his nose, half amusement and half disgust, before raising his leg and stomping Dupravel’s head into the rock with enough force to send a thud echoing across the mountaintop.
*Stomp*
"Pitiful. Your twisted obsession with that boy is exactly why you’re here today, groveling in the mud like a lowly dog."
Dupravel’s face pressed harder into the dirt as Mauriss spoke again, not raising his volume, yet somehow sounding even more cruel.
"You should have learned by now. Let the child go. Your seed is still potent, your organ still attached, your legacy far from extinct. You could father a hundred sons in nine months if you truly wished, Dupravel. That is not what you’ve lost here."
He paused, allowing the humiliation to fester in the silence.
"What you have lost is the Black Serpents Guild. Your entire life’s work, your assassin empire, your reputation as a Dragon Slayer. All of it has crumbled."
Dupravel tried to draw a breath but found it difficult beneath Mauriss’s boot, as the pressure continued to rise, suffocating not just his body, but whatever pride remained inside him.
"And yet, despite your disgraceful mental state, you had the foresight to store the origin metal in a dimensional ring that only responds to your mana signature. Clever. Very clever.
If anyone else tries to force it open, the ring collapses and the treasure inside becomes banished in a spatial void for eternity, never to be recovered by any method.
That safeguard is the only reason your head is still attached to your shoulders."
Mauriss’s voice fell even lower now, like a blade drawn slowly across a neck.
"But do not confuse your temporary usefulness for me being merciful.
I will not repeat myself again. Give me the origin metal willingly, Dupravel, or prepare to become a hollow husk, a puppet drained of will and purpose.
Either way, the metal is mine. The only question is what form you will be left in when I take it."
Mauriss warned, as with fingers shaking so violently that he could barely form a grip, Dupravel reached into his storage ring and pulled out a smooth slab of a common looking metal.
Which he then placed before Mauriss’s feet, with a mixture of helplessness and resignation.
"There," he whispered, voice brittle. "As you commanded."
Mauriss’s lip curled upward as he looked at the offering.
"What an obedient little mutt," he said, as his foot pressed harder onto Dupravel’s skull, grinding his face further into the wet rock.
"Now, hand over the other half."
Mauriss demanded, as Dupravel blinked slowly, confusion flickering across his face as he struggled to understand.
"The... other half, my Lord?" he said cautiously. "That’s all I possess. Truly, that is the only slab I have."
Mauriss stared at him in silence for a heartbeat, before his foot came crashing down once more.
*Crack*
A sharp, splintering sound erupted across the mountaintop, followed by a muffled cry, as Dupravel’s forehead split open beneath the crushing weight.
Mauriss looked furious now, eyes narrowed and wild, voice raised for the first time since his arrival.
"Useless insect!" he snapped, while Dupravel bit down on his tongue so hard that blood pooled in his mouth, desperate not to scream.
"Zhanrok’s treasure vault contained two blocks of origin metal. Two! Enough to forge the Eternal Sword in its entirety. Why have you brought back only one?"
Dupravel’s mind raced as he pushed aside the pain, scrambling to explain before Mauriss lost any further patience.
"It... it was not me who retrieved it, my Lord," he said, every syllable coated in desperation. "I only commissioned the mission, the boy who brought it back was someone else."
Mauriss’s gaze darkened.
"Who?" he asked, his voice devoid of empathy.
"It was a boy... a human boy. His name is Leo Skyshard. He’s the one who brought the metal back from the time-stilled world," Dupravel said quickly, forcing the words out before another stomp could crush his brain entirely.
For a moment, Mauriss said nothing.
But then his eyes widened ever so slightly, as if the name had triggered something he had read just recently.
"Leo Skyshard..." he repeated under his breath, more to himself than to Dupravel.
And then the realization clicked.
"The Shadow Dragon."
It was not a question, but a cold whisper of recognition, and for the first time in countless years, Mauriss felt something sharp pierce through the cold confidence of his heart—a flicker of surprise, followed by a growing sense of unease that he had not felt in centuries.
The Cult was in possession of a slab of Origin Metal!