The Hero Becomes the Duke’s Eldest Son

Chapter 140

The final phase of the Talos War, which had lasted for two years.

The last of the seven legion commanders leading the Talos army had finally fallen.

The Underlord’s forces, which had ravaged the western continent with blood, screams, and death, were now diminished. Only the Black Thorn Castle, the Underlord’s fortress, stood before the Hell Gate Tarotaros.

Dragon Slayer King, Knight King, Archmage, Great Alchemist, Iron-Blooded Saint…

Centered around these five heroes, the allied forces of the terrestrial realm had all gathered in the west, where Tarotaros lay.

The night before the final battle had arrived.

“What? Hey, Spica. Did I hear that right?”

The Mercenary King’s disciple, Witch Slayer, Reaper of the Warlocks, Dragon Slayer…

With numerous aliases, he furrowed his brow in disbelief, questioning what he had just heard.

He had been enjoying a rare drink of rum, which he had been saving for a special occasion, in the barracks when his comrade had unexpectedly shown up.

A beautiful woman clad in a red robe.

Strictly speaking, she wasn’t wearing a red robe.

It was simply a snow-white robe drenched in the blood of monsters, dripping with fresh blood.

It looked like a lily that had grown, nourished by an abundance of blood.

Iron-Blooded Saint, Spica Lunius.

Initially, she had been a client. Later, she became a comrade, and now she was somewhat of a friend.

Even though they had known each other for quite some time, she remained a woman whose depths were hard to fathom.

Her expressionless face, partially covered by a veil, made it difficult to discern her thoughts, emotions, or even if she was a living, breathing human like him.

“Sir Albireo, unless your hearing has been ruined by a troll’s slap, you heard correctly.”

Yet, judging by her speech, she seemed to be very much alive.

Her analogy was unpleasantly vivid, though.

It was rare for her to initiate a conversation, and even rarer for her to say something so unexpected, prompting him to ask again for confirmation.

“So, you’re asking if I plan to skip the final battle?”

“Fortunately, your hearing seems intact, Sir Albireo.”

“…Damn it. Just keep your mouth shut. Be quiet like you usually are.”

The Iron-Blooded Saint rarely spoke, but when she did, her words had a way of getting under his skin.

Despite this, she seemed devoid of malice, which was even more unsettling.

Or maybe there was none to begin with?

It was truly perplexing.

The Underlord, the ruler of the monsters of the underworld and the root of all these events, would be the target of their assault tomorrow. They would break through tens of thousands of monsters to infiltrate his fortress.

Alongside his four comrades.

Yet, she was asking if he really had to participate in the final battle against the Underlord.

Her usual indifference to matters unrelated to the Slaughter Cult made her question even more puzzling.

However, given her enigmatic nature, he let it slide.

He had only one response.

“Of course, I have to go. Why wouldn’t I?”

He took another sip of his rum.

As a high-level Sword Master, it wasn’t enough to get him drunk, but he relished the bitterness.

“For the past two years, I’ve been dying to drive a sword into that damned Underlord.”

“…Why?”

“Because it’s a commission.”

“…”

“A request from a boy who cried as he watched his parents get devoured by those monsters…”

He spoke calmly.

“A request from a soldier who lost his home and family and fought to his death for revenge. A request from a mercenary who fought and died alongside me.”

“…”

“I’ve listened to countless requests and accepted them all.”

The number of requests he had promised to fulfill was beyond counting.

He was a mercenary.

And a mercenary always honors a commission, completes it, and gets paid.

He relayed this simple truth to the silent but trustworthy comrade before him.

“Although I do resent that their deaths mean no guaranteed payment…”

He shrugged.

“I’ll just have to wring it out of them in the afterlife.”

“…”

He looked at her and smiled mischievously.

“I never do anything at a loss.”

The Iron-Blooded Saint remained silent for a while, simply standing there.

After a prolonged silence, she finally spoke.

“…I see.”

That was all she said.

With those words, the Iron-Blooded Saint left the barracks where he stayed.

He felt that her departure was somehow different from usual, but he couldn’t pinpoint why.

However, that thought was fleeting.

He was too exhausted from defeating the last legion commander to think deeply. He just wanted to rest.

He wanted to rest well before the final battle against the Underlord tomorrow.

He closed his eyes and surrendered to his fatigue.

* * *

Feeling as though he had awakened from a long dream, Aden opened his eyes.

“Aden, have you regained consciousness?”

The voice of the Underlord, which he had once loathed but had now grown accustomed to, echoed in his ears. It was the voice of Curse.

His mind cleared, and he recalled that he had passed out right after destroying the Guardian of the Labyrinth.

“You’re awake already? At least you didn’t die, Master.”

“Unknown.”

Turning his head, he saw Unknown looking at him with an exasperated expression that seemed to ask, “Are you human or a troll?”

On his back, he carried a bundle of treasures he had scavenged from the Guardian’s room.

“How long was I out?”

It was an important question.

If much time had passed, the initial plan would be thwarted.

“It’s only been about 30 minutes. Still, to get up so soon after that fight, you’re really a monster, Master.”

Fortunately, not much time had passed.

He had woken up at just the right time.

‘The dream I just had…’

It was about the past.

The night before the start of all events.

It had been a conversation he had let slip by as insignificant.

But looking back now, it was a meaningful question.

‘Perhaps Spica…’

Aden thought seriously for a moment, then shook his head.

‘No, now’s not the time to think about this.’

Although thanks to Unknown, they had swiftly bypassed traps and were not late, they had consumed more time than expected.

By now, the Slaughter Cult was likely about to clash with the undying Grey Army.

They needed to move to the next gate quickly.

Aden lightly rotated his arms to check his condition.

“My body…?”

He was surprised to find his body felt lighter than expected.

Having used two Spirit Arms simultaneously, he should have been feeling muscle pain throughout his body as an aftereffect.

Yet, despite only resting for about 30 minutes, his condition had significantly improved.

“Hehehe! You should thank me!”

“What did you do?”

Aden asked, looking at the grinning Unknown with a bit of suspicion. Unknown proudly took out an empty bottle from his pocket and shook it.

“A concoction I made by adding a few of my own secrets to a low-grade potion! A special Unknown-made potion! It’s highly effective for rapid recovery and muscle pain relief! Hehe.”

“You made it?”

“Believe it or not, I have some excellent crafting skills. I made the explosives and sleeping gas that blew up in the Viscount’s house! Now, thank me!”

“Yeah, thanks. It’s been a great help.”

“Huh…? Well, as long as you know!”

Aden’s unexpected gratitude made Unknown momentarily embarrassed and flustered.

Aden, feeling his body’s state, thought.

‘This level of skill suggests he has decent alchemy abilities.’

Though it wasn’t something extraordinarily outstanding, likely because it was made without any formal knowledge or teaching.

There were still some internal injuries and muscle pain.

However, thanks to Unknown’s potion administered early, his mobility had improved.

Waking up after just 30 minutes was also significantly due to the potion’s effect.

Unknown was more helpful than he had thought.

With the Guardian of the Labyrinth defeated, a passage to another area had opened.

Aden entered the dark and long corridor with Unknown.

Unknown asked in his typically blunt tone.

“Ah… the traps and the statue were tough. What’s next? Can you tell me?”

“Don’t worry, there are no traps or golems ahead.”

“So, what’s so great up ahead that such a monstrous statue was guarding it? Maybe…?”

“Just so you know, there’s no treasure, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Damn.”

It seemed he had been expecting it. Despite already having bundled up treasures from the Guardian’s room, he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Even after taking so much, you’re still thinking about treasure?”

Unknown retorted with irritation.

“Don’t you know more is better! More gold and treasure are always better. We only live once; we should live without regrets!”

-The demon sword Sere enthusiastically agrees!

“That’s true. You’re right.”

“See, right?”

“Agreed.”

-…Why are you agreeing, Dragon Slayer King? Do you realize how well you two get along?

The biggest obstacle, the Guardian of the Labyrinth, was defeated.

So now, following this passage, they would surely find it.

‘The Prisoner.’

This place was called the ‘Underground Labyrinth of the Prisoner.’

At the end of this passage awaited the very existence for which this place was named and built.

‘He must have noticed us long ago.’

In the Wasteland of Death, there was nothing the ‘Prisoner’ couldn’t see.

Yet, despite seeing everything, he couldn’t step out or interfere in this labyrinth.

That was the ‘Punishment’ given to the Prisoner.

Their footsteps echoed loudly as they walked through the dark, long passage.

Eventually.

The footsteps stopped.

Aden and Unknown stood before a gigantic stone gate.

“We finally made it.”

“What is this…?”

Unknown craned his neck, speechless.

The stone gate was over 6 meters tall, so large that calling it a gate might be an understatement. The surface was adorned with grotesque monsters and figures resembling humans fighting against them.

The human figures looked more brutal and vicious than the demons.

Especially impressive were the humans crushing the monsters’ heads with gusto.

‘Those must be priests of the Slaughter Cult.’

It was an artifact indicating the Cult had been corrupted for centuries.

The gate was sealed with crimson chains.

‘Chains made of materialized Holy Power.’

It must be the work of the First Saint.

Creating holy chains that lasted over centuries was likely something only those at the transcendental level could accomplish.

He didn’t really want to know, but still.

Shiver.

Unknown scratched at the goosebumps on his arms while swallowing nervously as he looked at the stone door.

“Uh… Sir Aden? Master? My gut feeling is screaming that we should never go in there, like, really desperately…”

“Is it because you’re a thief? Your intuition is pretty good. You’re right.”

“Hey, listen! I’m not just a thief, I’m a master thief…!”

Thwack.

Unknown tried to protest, but before he could finish his sentence, Aden struck him on the neck with the edge of his hand, causing him to faint.

Unknown’s demonic sword, Saere, silently screamed, “Ah! Unknown!” in alarm.

Ignoring this, Aden supported the unconscious Unknown and laid him down against the wall.

– Did you really have to knock him out, Dragon Slayer King?

“Of course, it was necessary. Normally, as soon as that stone door opens, an average person would die from a heart attack on the spot.”

Although Unknown was a contractor of the 72 Demonic Swords and might be okay, there was no need to take unnecessary risks.

He drew Baalzebul and infused it with aura.

In a flash, a blue aura blade erupted. The sword, moving faster than the eye could see, sliced through the air and the chains.

Crack!

The red chains of divinity shattered.

The broken chains disintegrated into fragments like scattered rose petals and vanished.

Simultaneously, with a thunderous rumble, the massive stone door began to open on its own.

At that moment.

Whoosh.

All the hairs on his body stood on end.

His entire body froze for an instant.

A vast presence, imperceptible to any of his five senses, emanated from beyond the door.

Aden felt as though he were wrapped in invisible, colorless, and scentless chains that climbed up his body like a snake, immobilizing him.

He had experienced this sensation before.

‘Hat Merchant…’

It was the same phenomenon that occurred when the head of the Spirit Merchant Guild appeared.

It was the overwhelming ‘aura’ that transcended human limits, the aura of a superhuman.

The sensation of being an absolute weakling before a predator.

Even though he had reached the level of a master, Aden was feeling that sensation now.

But Aden smiled, showing his teeth.

“Really, life is so unpredictable. I thought that many times when I was betrayed by those I considered comrades and when I returned in the body of a wastrel duke’s son…”

Eventually, the door fully opened.

His smile deepened.

“…I never thought I’d awaken this monster with my own hands.”

Beyond the door, the owner of the invisible chains that had bound Aden revealed its form.

Recalling a passage from the revelation given by Priestess Lunia, Aden spoke.

“You, you’re the ‘Ancient King.’ Isn’t that right?”

Clatter.

The sound of chains echoed.

In front of him, he saw a ‘giant’ over six meters tall.

A giant whose entire body was surrounded and bound by blood-red chains.

This giant took the form of a troll, but the difference was that its skin was not gray, but black.

Dozens, even hundreds of blood-red chains penetrated various parts of the enormous troll’s body, making it look like a doll stitched and hung up.

The troll-shaped giant was enormous, dried up like a mummy, with its head drooping as it entrusted its body to the chains.

Anyone could see that it looked like a corpse, a horrific figure that neither lived nor could live.

Clang, clang.

However, the enormous black troll, which appeared to be a corpse, lifted its head.

The sound of chains echoed, and blood spurted from the parts of its body that were penetrated with even the slightest movement.

-Grrr……

An ancient, long-held breath gurgled from the black troll’s mouth.

It seemed to want to say something, but due to the chains piercing its neck and lungs, only the sound of air escaping was heard.

-Who are you?

At that moment, a voice was heard in Aden’s mind. It was the telepathy sent by the troll.

Aden spoke the name of the being in front of him.

“Immortal Lord.”

The second calamity following the first calamity, the Winter Queen.

The eternal lord of the gray undead legion, the sole king and leader of the troll race.

An ancient being revered and worshipped as a god by trolls, the ‘Elder Troll Lord.’

Aden spoke to the ancient king.

“I have come to make a deal, Immortal Lord.”