The Etiquette Officer’s head rolled across the floor.
A brief silence followed, and Hamel spoke up apologetically.
“There was nothing I could do about it.”
“…How did it come to this?”
The Guard Captain muttered, confused.
While the fighting had raged, he had been unable to act or react. It made sense—the Etiquette Officer had struck without warning.
“Could you perhaps be…”
The Guard Captain hesitated and fumbled out the question, but then shook his head and swallowed it.
“…No.”
Hamel felt he knew what the man had wanted to ask. As long as he wasn’t a fool, suspicions were inevitable—that he might have been deceived. But it was a meaningless question. Whatever Hamel’s true nature, the Guard Captain had already been branded a traitor and had few options left.
“What will you do?”
“…”
Hamel gave no detailed explanation. After a pause, the Guard Captain spoke reluctantly.
“…First, let’s go see Chepesh. That should clear up all misunderstandings.”
‘Avoidance, huh.’
Hamel nodded calmly. If that was his choice, it deserved respect. The Guard Captain scowled and led the way. Seeing his bewildered state, Hamel felt a twinge of guilt.
“Let’s move.”
“Yes.”
Hamel tore his gaze away from the stunned hostages. There was no way to save them now: he couldn’t lead so many out of the castle, nor stay behind to protect them. The only option was to kill Chepesh and end it quickly.
Hamel quickened his pace. They ran through the castle and entered a vast hall. The higher the floors, the narrower the space, with an overlook to the level below—like a theater for watching performances.
“Go up to the third floor, exit through the left door and keep going up. You’ll reach the tower where Chepesh stays.”
“I see.”
Hamel nodded briefly at the Guard Captain’s directions and continued calmly.
“That’s enough guidance. Guard Captain, you should return now.”
“What do you mean…”
“Haven’t you already been branded a traitor?”
“…”
“Keep your distance from us, even now.”
The Guard Captain pressed his lips shut at Hamel’s words, then opened his mouth with difficulty.
“Are you… an enemy?”
“Probably.”
“…So I’ve been deceived.”
The Guard Captain drooped his head helplessly. Watching him quietly, Hamel suddenly said bluntly:
“Or I could be a ‘friend.’”
“…!”
“If you consider me a friend, I will consider you one as well.”
The Guard Captain’s eyes widened, and then…
“Hup.”
“…?”
“Hruuup. Ah, I can’t. cough haha sob, I can’t hold it any longer. Pahaha!”
The Guard Captain burst into laughter as if he couldn’t contain himself. He, who had earlier furrowed his brow, threw his head back and clutched his stomach. The more he laughed, the colder the atmosphere grew. Something was wrong.
Hamel and his companions instinctively stepped back and drew their weapons. After a long fit of chuckling, the Guard Captain managed to straighten himself, shrugged, and spoke.
“Suddenly talking about being ‘friends’ is too much. I was barely holding back my laughter as it was.”
“…”
“You’ve become ‘friends’ in the meantime?”
The Guard Captain sneered and glanced over Hamel’s shoulder. Hamel reflexively turned his head to follow the gaze—and saw a painting of a black knight mounted on a black horse. The figure looked familiar.
─clop clop
Suddenly, with the sound of hooves, the knight in the painting began to move.
The black knight seemed to grow larger and larger.
─whoosh
He spurred his horse out of the painting, raised his visor, and saluted.
“…!”
Hamel flinched: the black knight’s face was identical to the Guard Captain who had been with him.
‘If that’s the case?’
Who, then, had been beside him all this time?
Hamel turned to the man who had accompanied him—but there stood a well-dressed middle-aged man: Vlad Chepesh, the man Hamel had been searching for. Chepesh looked at the saluting Guard Captain and mocked him with a bored air.
“Yes, yes. The so-called Guard Captain sure gets around quickly.”
“I have committed a capital sin.”
The Guard Captain bowed with a flat expression. Chepesh answered with a stony face.
“Yes. Of course I’ll kill you. I’ll gut you with my own hands, cut your throat, and hang you on a stake.”
“…”
“However, before that, I’ll give you a chance to clean up the stupid things you’ve done.”
“I await your command.”
Chepesh pointed at Hamel’s group. “Remove all of those. Do not allow them to disturb the Etiquette.”
“At once.”
It was at that moment, while the Guard Captain was bowing, that Hamel casually asked,
“Since when was it?”
“Hm?”
When Chepesh turned his head, Hamel continued calmly.
“I’m asking since when you have been the one.”
“Ah. You mean that.”
Chepesh lightly brushed his face with his palm—and then the face that appeared was…
“…”
A face exactly like Hamel’s. But unlike Hamel, this one wore a fishy smile and looked amused.
“Well. When do you think it started?”
“…From the moment I entered the castle?”
“Correct! I received a report of suspicious individuals. Although the informer was killed earlier.”
The Etiquette Officer had not accepted it and had gone straight to the castle to tell Chepesh the truth. Chepesh used that to lay a trap and waited, disguised as the Guard Captain.
‘Then the black knight picture I saw before entering the castle must indeed have been the Guard Captain.’
Now the pieces fit together. Hamel swallowed in silence. A question he’d dismissed lightly had returned as a great threat.
It was then.
“Ptooey.”
“…?”
Ono, tilting his head, suddenly spat the blood he’d been holding in his mouth.
“…Ono?”
“Well, why? We were already caught, weren’t we?”
“…”
It wasn’t entirely wrong. There was no longer any need to pretend to be a demon. Hamel nodded to Daniel and Lena; they all spat out the blood they’d been holding. Ono glared irritably at Chepesh and the Guard Captain.
“I hear they’re going to get rid of us or not—it’s absurd. Sorry, but isn’t this exactly the situation we wanted?”
It was true. Though it looked like a trap, it was the situation Hamel and his group had hoped for. If they could topple Chepesh, it would all end.
“What do you think the two of you can do? Especially you—what are you supposed to be?”
Ono pointed at the silent Guard Captain. “A demon pretending to be a knight, of all things.”
Daniel nodded as if in agreement. Lena quietly began to chant and prepared for battle. They all knew the outcome of this fight would decide victory or defeat.
“…”
The Guard Captain watched them silently, then quietly raised the spear in his hand.
What was he doing? Only a moment of puzzlement.
─thud
A sound that rattled the eardrums came from afar.
─dum-dum-dum dum-dum-dum
A sound vibrating the air at regular intervals: the beat of drums. It came from all directions. The walls were filled with paintings; accompanied by the drums, a jet-black procession continued to pour out.
“…”
The group watched the spectacle in silence: an army. Troops too numerous for a single domain revealed themselves. Individually they weren’t strong, but their numbers were enormous. Here and there, noticeably powerful figures stood out.
Watching the sight, Daniel whispered to Ono, “This isn’t just any level.”
“…I didn’t expect this.”
Ono swallowed dryly and took a step back. Hamel stared at the enemies, feeling a familiar déjà vu. The moving paintings and the knights that came out of them looked oddly familiar.
…They are.
‘No, the man is.’
Hamel looked back at the Guard Captain. He was not merely a demon from a painting; only now could Hamel recognize the face that had given him déjà vu. Around the Guard Captain, heroes who had created countless legends had gathered—no, demons in the likeness of those heroes.
“You were not an ordinary painting after all.”
“Yes, I am…”
One who had long ago forged the widest empire in the world: a ruler called the incarnation of war.
“Leopold von Tirian III. I am his portrait.”
Only then did Hamel understand why a demon that had been merely a painting had been put in the role of Guard Captain.
‘The king of all painting demons, perhaps.’
A high-ranking demon not previously reported—if so, it should be classified as super-class.
Hamel assessed the situation and swiftly gave orders.
“Hold on just a bit. I’ll take care of Chepesh…”
“You expect to catch me alone? What sort of claim is that?”
Chepesh cut him off. With everyone’s gaze fixed on him, he smiled contentedly and flicked his hand. At that moment a strange sensation spread through the entire castle, and shortly after…
─whoosh
From all around, a thick scent of blood was drawn into Chepesh’s body. At that ominous energy, Hamel asked coldly, “What have you done?”
“Ten percent of the offerings just died.”
“…!”
Dozens—or perhaps hundreds—had just died from that one gesture. Hamel bit his lip as Chepesh licked his lips regretfully.
“If we’d delayed a bit longer, we could have sacrificed about half. What a pity.”
“…”
Hamel did not answer. Instead, as he moved toward Chepesh…
“Still, at least at this level.”
─snap!
Chepesh snapped his fingers. “I can do things like this too.”
In an instant, Hamel’s vision went pitch black.
The damp, sticky air wrapped around him for a moment.
─whoosh
A sweet scent brushed his nose. A fresh, pleasant breeze enveloped him comfortably.
‘Where is this?’
Hamel scanned the suddenly altered surroundings.
─chirp chirp chirp
Birdsong. Sparkling sunlight. A babbling stream. Warm breezes and rustling foliage. Trees bearing fruit that gave off sweet scents. For a moment he felt cognitive dissonance at the peaceful scene he’d never seen before.
‘I was clearly in the castle just a moment ago.’
The question didn’t last long—he had experienced this several times already. An ability to suddenly pull one into a completely different world: the crow’s power in the north at Sturnhelm. Wasn’t it a ‘domain,’ a divine power?
But why was it so peaceful? It wasn’t cold or dark. There were no enemies—only the cool stream and sweet fruit.
─rumble
Hamel bowed his head at the sound from his stomach. He was hungry and thirsty.
‘…When did I last drink water?’
He felt slightly drowsy, but that didn’t matter. Right now he only wanted to bite into a fruit bursting with sweet-and-sour juice. How sweet would it be? How refreshing? The thought made his mouth water.
Hamel slowly reached toward the fruit.
─pluck
He picked one up; its glossy surface and suitably soft texture promised bliss. He brought it to his mouth—but at that moment…
─pause
A feeling of revulsion rose within him. He bit his lower lip. A faint taste of blood made his head spin. Why was he reaching for a fruit he’d never seen? He could go days without food. Wasn’t willpower the important thing? He felt alien. This was so unlike his usual self.
This is…
This is….
“It’s a trap.”
Hamel mercilessly tossed the fruit behind him.
