Chapter 341

Could it just be my imagination that it all feels improvised?

Felix glanced at Theo with a mixture of astonishment and doubt.

What surprised him even more was that it didn’t seem like a lie.

“It’s not entirely implausible,” he thought.

The secret vault of the Emperor, where the history of the Empire sleeps.

If its code was solely passed down orally, could it have been hastily written down while spiriting away his daughter in a moment of crisis?

Even if the pieces seemed forcibly fit together, they still connected. Yet, a sense of unease lingered.

“Still, will it be possible? Starting tonight, the culprits have finally begun to act. The Mad Dragon…”

“Dante Roll. He is no longer associated with Ragnar.”

Theo cut him off firmly.

A man who had discarded his pride as a member of Ragnar and relinquished his title of the Mad Dragon was nothing more than a traitor.

Theo’s cold tone made Felix realize his slip of the tongue, and he quickly corrected himself.

“My apologies. That aside, it seems they’ve failed to silence him, and it’s likely he’ll act soon.”

As Felix noted, it was inevitable that Dante would take action now that their connection had been exposed.

Of course, things could escalate into a troublesome situation.

“Especially since I’m the one they’re dealing with.”

Politically eliminating someone bearing the Ragnar name, as colossal as it was, was a daunting task.

Had the setting been confined to the Imperial Palace, it might have been a headache. But their enemy was the Sacred Demon Cult.

And for the first time, the enemy had been driven into their own territory.

They might attack immediately, but there was still some time. Both the Cult and the nobles placed great importance on justification.

For the Cult to gain influence, they needed a heroic narrative.

The script for that justification was likely already written. They were merely biding their time for the right moment to act.

For now, they would remain quiet, but during that silence, they would undoubtedly cause trouble.

“I suppose I’ll have to live as a fugitive for a while.”

As Felix pointed out, an arrest order could be issued as early as tomorrow morning.

Regardless, the vault wouldn’t open even if the password was entered before dawn.

“This is such a hassle.”

Theo’s urge to raid the vault immediately was strong, but unfortunately, the vault was designed to remain sealed during certain hours to prevent theft.

“We’ll know by morning. Gah, ugh!”

Felix clutched his shoulder in pain, letting out a groan.

Potions weren’t all-powerful; they couldn’t fully restore the flesh torn away in battle.

“For now, hide with the knights. The others… Honestly, they can’t be trusted.”

Having been branded an enemy himself, walking openly through the capital would only invite assassins.

Especially in his current condition.

“Understood. I’ll mobilize the knights when the time is right.”

Felix, drenched in cold sweat, struggled to his feet and began gathering his belongings.

Even in the dead of night, the detention of the knights could happen swiftly.

“I’ll return by dawn.”

With that, Felix vaulted out the window and disappeared.

“It seems the situation will become precarious.”

“Yes, truly precarious.”

Even Lodbrok, who rarely voiced concerns, sensed the danger and openly acknowledged it.

Theo agreed with the sense of foreboding.

If it came to it, he and Lodbrok might have to hold off an onslaught of enemies alone until the Ragnar forces arrived.

“However, now that it’s come to this, we might be able to inflict a blow so severe that they’ll never recover.”

It wasn’t an empty boast.

Among the Sacred Demon Cult, only the First and Second Apostles could rival Theo.

Even the Mad Dragon, Dante, was no match for him.

***

Clap—

Suddenly, the sound of applause echoed from beyond the door.

Dante frowned deeply as he finished wrapping the bandage around his bleeding side.

That applause, dripping with mockery, grated on his nerves.

There was only one person who would dare mock him in such a way right now.

Creak—

"I heard you almost managed to kill that knight commander. Such a shame it didn’t happen."

The mocking voice stung, and Dante’s frown deepened.

It was blatant ridicule.

Dante was already brimming with dissatisfaction, so this provocation only served to fuel his irritation further.

"And whose fault is it that I failed? No, if you had moved in time, I could have slaughtered them both! Where the hell were you? What were you doing?"

Dante roared in anger, glaring fiercely at the Second Apostle.

His fury was so intense that his wound reopened, blood seeping through the fresh bandages. The seething rage emanating from him turned into killing intent, causing a tingling sensation to creep over the Second Apostle’s skin.

"Such audacity. You don’t even know the basics of respect, do you?"

The Second Apostle’s voice was cold as his eyes narrowed.

An icy chill spread from him, slowly making its way toward Dante’s feet.

"You’re letting our little conversation get to your head, aren’t you?"

Not one to back down, Dante summoned his energy in retaliation.

Rumble—

The entire building shook as dust began to rain down.

Crack. Crack.

The structure groaned under the immense pressure, on the verge of collapse.

Just before the building reached its limit, both men withdrew their auras and locked eyes.

“Should I kill him?”

If they didn’t have a mutual interest, Dante would have made him suffer every conceivable torment before finally killing him.

But that was only true if the gap in strength were significant.

The Second Apostle was well aware of this.

He knew he could win if they fought, but his body wouldn’t come out unscathed.

Dante had likely realized the difference in strength as well, yet his expression remained unchanged. If anything, he looked even more eager to push forward, something the Second Apostle found oddly refreshing.

"What’s wrong? Weren’t you about to go all out?"

If not for his needless provocations, he might have found him endearing.

At that moment, the Second Apostle stretched out his hand.

"Guh, ack!?"

Out of nowhere, smoke-like hands materialized from several magic circles and wrapped themselves tightly around Dante’s throat.

"I’d appreciate it if you stopped flapping your mouth unnecessarily. It wouldn’t do us any good to rile each other up, would it?"

After issuing his warning, the Second Apostle released the spell.

Dante dropped to the ground and immediately glared with a contorted expression.

"The preparations are complete. In three days, the day will come when you can claim this continent as your own."

With those words, the Second Apostle turned and walked away.

Dante’s lips twisted into a wide grin as he watched him leave.

A glint of greed flickered in his eyes as he ran a hand over his face.

"Finally…"

How long had he dreamed of this?n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The thought of grasping what had only ever been a vision in his mind filled him with an unbearable sense of anticipation.

“Once it’s all over, I’ll grind you into dust as well.”

Dante stroked his neck with a malicious glint in his eyes, already envisioning his revenge.

Meanwhile, the Second Apostle returned to the Emperor’s chambers. Sitting in a chair, a peculiar smile crept across his face.

“Arrogant, yet amusing.”

The Second Apostle had deliberately provoked Dante, his overwhelming bloodlust a clear sign of his intent.

At that moment, he understood why Ragnar had once granted him the title of the Mad Dragon.

“Once he connects with that one, I wonder how he’ll plan to stab me in the back.”

The thought of Dante’s stiff face crumpling in defeat brought a sweet satisfaction.

“Not a bad role. A fleeting amusement, perhaps.”

Though he had been dissatisfied when the First Apostle sent him here, he found the entertainment within these events to be surprisingly enjoyable.

“And to think, there are still moves left to make. Delightful.”

The thought of Theo’s expression twisting in frustration brought an endless rush of anticipation.

The first step in that plan was already in motion.

"Move! Quickly!"

Tat-tat-tat-tat!

The frantic sound of footsteps echoed through the Naga Forest.

It was the result of Theo’s carrier pigeon delivering an urgent message.

Black Dragon and Julius were organizing the army, checking supplies as they prepared for action.

Fortunately, there had been little resource consumption, and not a single life had been lost during their time in the Naga Forest.

"What kind of trouble has our patriarch stirred up this time?"

Julius joked as he glanced at Black Dragon.

"If he’s preparing for war, it must be something serious."

War preparations could only mean one thing: conflict with the Imperial Court.

Reports from Black Shadow were already unsettling.

“People are gathering in the capital, and regional forces are raising armies to march there.”

Black Dragon couldn’t fathom what Theo had done to provoke such chaos, but he had a foreboding feeling.

Caw!

A crow landed on Black Dragon’s arm, carrying a small tube.

He retrieved the note inside and read its contents.

"Julius. The Phantom Dragon is bringing provisions and her ladyship. Go and receive them."

"Understood."

Julius mounted his wyvern and flew off.

Black Dragon’s unease persisted.

Up until now, Theo’s plans had been relatively predictable, but this time, his actions were impossible to anticipate.

Above all, a sense of foreboding had taken root in his chest.

It was more ominous than the dreadful event that had occurred here in the past.

"Send a message to the northeastern army to hasten their march and inform them to prepare for deployment!"

"Yes, sir!"

At Black Dragon’s command, one of the Black Shadows swiftly left.

There was still time before the army could gather.

At best, they would depart in two days.

Even with their efficient movements, the gnawing unease in Black Dragon’s heart continued to grow.

“If it becomes overwhelming… Just hold on a little longer.”

He cast his gaze toward the horizon, silently pleading.

"Send another to replace the one who just left. Instruct the northeastern forces to shift their route toward the capital’s perimeter. We’ll depart as soon as the Plum Blossom Sovereign arrives."

"Understood."

Another shadow disappeared to carry out the order.

“That should be the best course of action.”

With his latest decision, the growing anxiety in Black Dragon’s heart subsided slightly.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

The sound of hoofbeats resonated clearly, dispelling the remnants of his unease.

"Robert."

The Plum Blossom Sovereign dismounted with a gentle smile. Beside her, Cassandra, the blind girl, bowed her head in greeting.

"We must leave immediately. Not a moment to waste."

Cassandra’s somber expression lingered in Black Dragon’s thoughts.