Chapter 321: Chapter 320 - Demons in the Capital.
A while ago, back in the Royal Palace.
The celebration was still ongoing.
The nobles, despite being uneasy because of the Vaise’s absence, didn’t voice out their complaints, as they knew better than that.
First, Velric, the king, had enough power on his own, and now, the Vaise were supporting him.
If anyone here dared to object, they might as well say goodbye to their legacies, as they might be erased from the planet before the war even began.
However, not all of the nobles were scared of the Royals and Vaises.
Two people didn’t fear those two families.
First was Duchess Elvarine, her gown sweeping over the marble as she strode to Velric’s side, her pale blue eyes narrowing.
The second was Duke Astazin, tall and broad-shouldered, following behind the duchess with a thunder crackling faintly along the edge of his hand.
"Your Majesty," Elvarine said, her voice smooth and cold as ice over steel. "What came up that Raven and his group had to go away so suddenly? Your nobles are not blind."
Astazin’s tone was sharper, impatient. "Tell us the truth, Your Majesty. We can smell the storm on your balcony."
Velric clenched his goblet, his knuckles white.
He could tell that they didn’t think that he was worthy of leading them, and among the nobles who felt the need to have him removed from the throne, they were included, but he decided to ignore their tone.
Unlike before, he no longer desired the throne.
So, he forced his face into stillness, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. "A matter concerning the neutral faction. Nothing more can you aid."
Both dukes exchanged glances, but before any of them could press further, the sky itself tore.
A sound like silk ripping, magnified a thousandfold, split the air.
A hole yawned above the city, space unraveling into a jagged wound of violet light.
Every citizen in the streets froze, necks craned, cups and bread falling from stunned hands.
Even from the balcony, Velric and the two dukes stared as the gate widened, its edges sizzling against reality.
Then, as if on cue, figures emerged.
Ten of them, black silhouettes against the sickly glow, their presence heavy and suffocating.
The musicians had stopped their play for the first time, confused.
Whispers rippled across the crowd.
"What are those?"
"Are they from the Vaise family?"
"They could be... Who else would come here like this?"
It was then that a man squinted hard, trying to focus on who they were, and although the night sky made it hard, he caught a glimpse, and his voice caught.
"N-No... Look at the horns... their skin... the eyes..." His breath hitched. "They are d-de-dem—DEMONS—!"
"Shut up."
The nearest demon flicked his wrist before the man’s voice could end.
A blackened scale, razor-thin, shot like lightning through the air toward the man’s throat.
Screams tore from the crowd, but before the scale could touch the man—
—A spike of shadow burst from the cobblestones, intercepting the blade with a shriek of sparks.
The scale ricocheted harmlessly aside.
The man, who was about to die, collapsed backward, face chalk-white, his trousers soaked in liquid terror.
The good thing was that no one was looking at him, as every gaze followed the origin of the shadow.
Behind Velric stood a man with iron-gray hair and eyes the color of storm clouds. His hand was outstretched, shadow curling like smoke from his fingertips.
It was Vairan Von Vaise.
The demons’ collective attention swung to the balcony.
"Vaise," the one who had attacked snarled. His voice was a growl of disdain. "Again, a Vaise. You bastards never learn."
The demon was the general who had taken the lead when six of them had attacked the neutral faction an hour ago.
Right now, he seemed frustrated for some reason.
However, on the human side, particularly on the balcony, movements were seen the moment the demons’ gazes locked.
Elvarine moved first, sliding between Velric and the demons, her staff gleaming with frost. Her face was a mask of the Ice Queen.
Astazin was next, his sword singing free of its sheath, thunder snarling along its edge as he stepped forward, his stance coiled with lethal intent. Then Vairan moved, his dagger twitching in his grip, shadows swelling beneath him like a living ocean.
The three formed a wall in front of their king.
It wasn’t because of some petty loyalty, but because all three of them knew that the one whose death would impact this kingdom the most right now was Velric.
If he were to die, then their chances of winning the upcoming war would decrease.
After all, the king was the symbol of the kingdom.
If he were to be killed right before so many people and right in the middle of the capital city, then how would anyone believe that anyone else was safe?
The demons, however, laughed as they saw this.
The one who had attacked a second ago, in particular—broad-shouldered and jagged wings twitching—tilted his head back and cackled. The others groaned, muttering in annoyance.
"Not again," one sighed.
"You’re going to do it, aren’t you?" Another grumbled.
The demon’s grin was wide and sharp. "Of course. I couldn’t savor it last time."
He spread his arms. "So I’ll enjoy it now."
The next second, without a warning, the air rippled as the demon flexed his shoulders.
Hundreds of scales erupted from his body in a storm, each one keener than a forged blade, hissing downward toward the crowd below.
"Let’s see, humans," he roared. "What will you do now?"
Gasps turned to screams as death rained from above.
The citizens, too weak to even move, could only stare in horror as they saw death approach.
But before those scales could do any damage—
Elvarine thrust her staff down, an arc of icy power bursting outward. A towering wall of ice erupted, intercepting a swath of scales.
They lodged deep into the barrier, cracking it but halting their slaughter.
Those scales, a result of a casual move from the demon, almost shattered one of her strongest spells.
That alone spoke volumes about the demon’s powers.
However, there were hundreds of scales, so even with her reach, she couldn’t intercept them all.
So, the next instant, Astazin blurred into motion, his body vanishing into streaks of blue light.
In the blink of an eye, he was within the crowd, dragging citizens out of death’s path, faster than human eyes could follow. All others could see was a blue flash.
Wherever he passed, lives were snatched from the brink—an instant later, scales buried themselves in the cobblestones where they had stood.
If he had been a second late, there was no saying if the people he saved would’ve lived.
However, the crowd was vast.
Too vast.
The duchess held her wall, the duke streaked through like lightning—yet there were gaps, places untouched, souls about to be shredded where neither could reach in time.
Only one figure still stood motionless, his shadow quivering like a beast about to pounce.
Vairan Von Vaise.
His storm-gray eyes burned as he lifted his dagger, the darkness around his feet unfurling like the wings of some abyssal bird.
Above, the demon who had unleashed the storm of blades only snickered, his teeth glinting in the violet light of the gate.
The next instant, the cobblestones cracked under the force of Vairan’s shadows as whips of darkness lashed outward, coiling and striking like living serpents.
Each whip met a descending scale, snapping them out of the air with sharp cracks of impact.
Sparks showered the streets below, citizens gasping as they realized they were still alive.
But the moment Vairan’s attention shifted to protecting the people, a flicker cut through the air.
The fastest of the demons moved—one heartbeat, he was in the sky; the next, he was right before Velric, a grin splitting his face.
"Peekaboo," he rasped, dagger-like claws already slashing toward the king’s throat.
Velric froze. His breath caught in his chest.
Even Vairan’s storm-gray eyes widened, shadows too far behind to intervene.
But then—
Clang!
The sound was sharp and sudden. The demon’s claws halted mid-strike, scraping against steel. His brow furrowed. "...Clang?"
Between him and Velric stood a figure, sword raised. A boy, silent and still, with storm-gray eyes that mirrored Vairan’s own.
It was Jake.
The demon snarled, baring fangs, ready to strike again—only to sense the surge of power below. Ice spikes erupted, and shadows speared upward, forcing him to retreat in a blur of wings back into the air.
Vairan’s voice broke the air, low and sharp. "Jake... you weren’t supposed to appear yet."
Jake shook his head once, his eyes flat, and his voice calm. "The situation changed. Things aren’t going as planned."
Above, the demons’ whispers spread like wildfire.
"That boy..." One muttered, recognition twisting his lips. "Jake. From that annoying group of nobodies."
"They were all meant to be with the neutral faction..."
The broad-winged demon, however, grinned, his jagged teeth glinting. "Better this way. Killing Jake will echo louder than killing this puppet king."
Jake’s blank gaze lingered on them for a second longer, unflinching.
Then he turned to Vairan, his words steady. "Protect the citizens. Fight with the others. That’s your role."
Vairan stiffened, realization crashing down. His eyes widened. "You’re planning to fight them—alone? That’s suicide. We must retreat, regroup—"
Jake’s tone cut him off, sharp as a blade. "I’ll win."
"Ridiculous!" Vairan’s voice cracked, shadows roiling at his feet.
But Jake lifted his sword and pointed it toward the violet-ripped sky. His expression never changed.
"It’s night." His voice was calm and absolute. "I will win."
Then, as if the night itself answered, shadows burst from his back, unfolding into vast wings of darkness.
With a single beat, Jake soared upward, meeting the demons head-on.
Vairan’s teeth ground together, fury burning in his storm-gray eyes, but he knew that the arrow was shot.
There was no going back, so he slammed his palms together, mana flooding outward.
Shadows erupted from the ground, racing across the palace, sealing the streets, and enclosing the city in a dome of midnight.
The people below gasped as the world went black.
At the same time, in the sky above, Jake stood alone, his shadowed wings spread wide, facing ten demons in the glow of the broken heavens.
The demons sneered, their laughter rolling like thunder across the midnight dome.
One licked his fangs, another flexed claws still dripping with venomous black light.
The broad-winged general leaned forward, his jagged grin cutting across his face. "Foolish boy. You’ve only hastened your own death. Once you fall, the rest of your kind will follow, screaming."
Their words dripped with cruel delight, but Jake didn’t answer.
His eyes stayed flat, unblinking, as he drew his blade and tightened his grip around the hilt.