Demon King of the Royal Class

Chapter 195

Chapter 195

The incident had come to a close.

What worried me the most was whether Dettomorian would face any negative repercussions because of me. Maybe it was because he was a fellow Temple student, or perhaps because he was actually not guilty. Whatever the case, he had been investigated all day Saturday and seemed to have already returned to the dormitory.

Olivia Lanche had already begun to sense that we were both masters of the holy sword.

“Hmm, I don’t really want to use it. Just think of it as yours, Reinhart.”

Olivia Lanche had tried to help me without any personal interest in the holy sword itself, so the fact that she had been soul-bound with Tiamata didn’t seem to interest her much.

Anyway, this person, exhausted as she was, had slept soundly in my room until well past lunchtime. Her disheveled state didn’t seem to detract from her appearance one bit...

‘What? She’s just woken up, how does she look just as stunning? That’s ridiculous!’

“Uahhhhh!”

Stretching her body and letting out a big yawn, Olivia Lanche blinked her sleepy eyes and looked at me.

“By the way, Reinhart, do you want to see something interesting?” she asked.

“What, what is it...?”

‘Please, not something weird, okay? Please, no, I can’t handle that! We’ve only spent one day together; you couldn’t have become that close to me already, right?’

“Look at this.”

Olivia Lanche raised her right hand and then closed her eyes.

Wooooom...

“... What is this?”

I couldn’t help but be shocked by the energy swirling around Olivia Lanche’s hand. This person could wield an immense amount of Divine Power. She had even channeled Ouen’s Divine Power during the ritual yesterday.

“Heh... I think I’ve come to understand the essence of Divine Power.”

However, the energy coalescing in Olivia Lanche’s hand now seemed far too dark and sinister to be considered Ouen’s Divine Power.

“No way... Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes.”

When Olivia Lanche opened her eyes, they radiated a menacing aura, entirely different from before.

“I think I’ve figured out how to use the power opposite to Ouen’s—in other words, Kier’s power.”

Ouen was synonymous with Kier, and Olivia Lanche had realized that, by altering the manifestation of Ouen’s Divine Power, it could serve as the opposite force. Performing the all-day ritual the day before to restore Ouen’s Holy Relic to its original state had led her to understand the mechanism of the power.

Olivia Lanche seemed to have gained the ability to wield not only Ouen’s Divine Power, which was the power of purity, but also the power of Kier, the god of corruption.

She had become capable of using the two entirely different aspects of Divine Power—both purity and death.

“Does this mean... I’m the only true follower of Ouen in the world? How ironic.”

Having abandoned her god, she had come to understand her god better. Because she had forsaken Ouen, she could now wield both Ouen’s and Kier’s powers, mastering the duality of Ouen. In a sense, one could call her the only true follower who comprehended all facets of Ouen.

Anyway, Olivia Lanche had become the only person in the world capable of using both the great god’s power and the demon god’s power.

How was I to describe it?

It felt like the significance of the incident had gone beyond just the Holy Sword Tiamata. It was as if I had witnessed the birth of an even more formidable monster.

“Oh, I wonder if that would work too?” she mused.

Skkkk.

Still on the bed, Olivia Lanche summoned the Holy Sword Tiamata to her hand. Since we were both masters, Tiamata belonged to both of us. She gave me a sinister smile, staring at me eerily.

“What if I corrupted the Holy Sword Tiamata, which we painstakingly restored, back into a demon sword?”

“What? What are you talking about, you crazy person?!”

“Hey, it’s just a joke—just a joke.”

‘If I hadn’t stopped you, you genuinely would have done it!’

Ultimately, it was true that Olivia Lanche had saved me from danger. To be precise, even while in its cursed form, using it would not have been problematic. However, having a proper soul-bonded with Tiamata made it much easier to control.

I decided to keep the fact that the Holy Sword was in my possession a secret. As planned, I chucked it into the very bottom of the Irine River, where no one would ever find it. I didn’t even need to go there myself, just thinking of sending it there made it a reality. I could sense it vividly.

Although I had saved Olivia Lanche’s life, in my own way, I expressed my gratitude to her as well. Olivia Lanche was magnanimous. She said that if I was that grateful, I could buy her a meal sometime in the future. Then she mentioned that she planned to spend the rest of the day sleeping in her room and left.

***

Feeling refreshed, Ellen washed up after Reinhart woke up and returned to his room. It was Sunday, and she hadn’t been able to focus properly the day before, so she was determined to concentrate that day.

With Reinhart’s troubles now resolved, he might come to the training ground today. Of course, he might not come if he got caught up in something else, but it didn’t really matter if he didn’t.

Ellen was heading to the training ground when she ran into someone. Though the person looked a little tired, she still drew attention. It was Olivia Lanche, the senior who had helped Reinhart. She’d spent the night in Reinhart’s room, and seemed to be on her way back to her own dormitory.

“...?”

Seeing Ellen staring at her, Olivia Lanche tilted her head.

“Ah, you’re a friend of Reinhart’s, right?”

“Oh... yes.”

“Did you have something to say?”

Reinhart had been in real danger. If this person hadn’t helped him, things could have been much worse.

If that was the case, this senior was a person whom she should be grateful to. However, Ellen felt a sense of guilt for feeling an irrational dislike towards her yesterday.

She felt guilty for disliking someone who had helped Reinhart out of kindness, without any reason.

Ellen looked around. There was no one else nearby.

“Thank you. I heard you helped Reinhart. He seemed to be in quite a bit of trouble. Thank you for helping him.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. You’re the friend who’s close to Reinhart.”

Olivia smiled kindly, as though it was something she was supposed to do naturally. She had helped Reinhart purely out of goodwill.

Ellen felt a bit embarrassed for having experienced those inexplicable feelings yesterday.

“But, you know that Reinhart is mine, right?”

“... Pardon?”

Olivia Lanche flashed a slightly wicked smile and left after making that statement. Ellen silently watched Olivia’s retreating figure.

‘Yeah. I don’t like that person. I don’t mind Harriet, but why do I dislike her?’

Ellen couldn’t figure out the reason.

***

Even though Tiamata was now in my possession, it didn’t change much for me. Unless there was a major incident like an undead army appearing in the capital, I didn’t foresee myself using it. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever go to the Dark Land again, but even in that case, it was a weapon that demonstrated its true power solely against the undead.

Of course, from what Olivia Lanche had told me, Tiamata had an opposite potential. She had mentioned it jokingly, but in reality, Olivia Lanche could indeed corrupt the restored Tiamata once more.

The Holy Sword Tiamata was a weapon that exerted considerable power against impure beings. Conversely, in its cursed state, the Demon Sword Tiamata exerted the exact opposite power. It would wield absolute power when killing the living.

Depending on how it was used, Tiamata could alternate between being a weapon of light and darkness. Whether it was wielded in the right manner as a holy sword or corrupted back into a demon sword, it could show absolute power against both the living and the dead, depending on how its power manifested.

Of course, handling Divine Power was impossible for me, and I would need Olivia Lanche’s help for that. The idea of a weapon that could function as both a holy sword and a demon sword was quite intriguing.

With Olivia Lanche’s assistance, Tiamata could become an all-powerful weapon. Granted, it would be best if I never had to use either version of the sword, though I was aware that one day, that necessity would inevitably arise.

Sunday passed, and it was Monday, after the common classes had ended.

“What’s this? You’re treating Detto to a meal?”

“He went through a lot of trouble because of me, so I need to do something for him.”

“... I’m always surprised when you show that you care about such things.”

Leaving the classroom compound, I headed towards Main Street with Dettomorian and Charlotte de Gradias.

***

B-8 Dettomorian didn’t seem to have faced any severe hardships or endured any overly rough treatment. Nevertheless, it was clear that he had been a suspect. Although he had been released, he’d had to go through such an ordeal because of my original request.

Securing Tiamata safely was just as much due to Olivia Lanche’s efforts as it was to Dettomorian’s. I felt personally sorry for him and wanted to do something for him, especially since he didn’t know the full details of the situation. All I could do was treat him to a meal, though.

Charlotte had tagged along even though I hadn’t invited her. When I said in Class B that I was going to treat Dettomorian to a meal, Charlotte seemed intrigued by the idea and decided to join us.

It seemed like the princess had some free time.

In the end, I was glad for her coming along. Dettomorian was a typically quiet and gloomy guy, so even though he followed along when I said I would treat him to a meal, he didn’t say much. Charlotte, who had come along out of boredom, filled the empty spaces in our conversation.

“I can never get used to all this swimming,” she said with a sigh. “It’s so exhausting, I feel like I’m going to die.”

It was still September, so the weather was warm, and our physical education classes were still swimming classes. Nevertheless, my stamina had improved, so I wasn’t as wiped out as I’d been during the first swimming class. Dettomorian looked tired, but not to the point of collapsing.

“Is there anything you want to eat?”

“... Sashimi. Raw meat.”

How should I put it?

His response felt... very much like him.

Of course, I knew there was no correlation between his origin in the northern primitive tribes and his craving for raw meat.

Still, it felt... so typical of him.

I looked toward Charlotte.

“Is that okay with you?”

“Huh? I told you, I don’t mind stuff like that.”

So, we ended up going for raw meat.

***

I knew the Temple had all sorts of restaurants, but I never expected them to have a place specializing in raw meat.

Dettomorian led the way. He seemed to know the place well, as if he came here often. He ate the raw meat piece by piece, and Charlotte, trying it for the first time, widened her eyes in surprise. After tasting a few pieces, she found it unexpectedly palatable and ate heartily.

Honestly, I felt a bit bad thinking it—it was rude and disrespectful—but seeing Dettomorian, so skinny and eagerly eating the raw meat, gave me a strange feeling...

What was the best way to describe it...? It just felt... weird!

That said, the taste of the meat itself was quite good. Considering that the food in the Temple was made from the finest ingredients, it was no surprise.

“Detto, try some of this too. It’s good.”

“Okay...”

Now that I thought about it, Charlotte called Dettomorian by his nickname, which on some level irked me. However, that was just my petty self-contradiction, nothing more. Did she call others by nicknames too, though? Or was it just with classmates?

“Are you always this considerate to others?” I asked as I watched Charlotte fussing over Dettomorian, making sure he tried different things.

“Huh? Oh...”

Charlotte smiled bashfully at my question.

“Well, it’s just... it reminds me of the old days... I just do it unconsciously.”

‘Ah. So that’s what it was.’

Dettomorian always looked as if he were starving. His character was supposed to be impossibly thin, one of the skinniest in this world. This reminded Charlotte of her time starving in the Demon King’s castle, and had ended up taking care of him out of habit.

Even the reason for taking care of him was really sad and pitiful...

“No matter how much I eat... I don’t gain weight...”

When Ellen said this, other girls usually reacted by giving her envious looks. When Dettomorian said it, though, it just seemed pitiful.

‘Maybe he could try eating butter and rice every day? Even then, would he gain weight? He might not gain weight... could he end up with cardiovascular problems instead?’

“Uh, anyway. I’m sorry. I asked you for a favor and that caused you some trouble. It must have been tough.”

This was the main point I wanted to talk about.

“Aside from this meal, I do have some money. I’m not asking to settle this with money, but if there’s anything you need help with or something you need, just let me know,” I added.

If the priests of the Ouen order had seriously intended to harm him, who knows what might have happened to him? Whether it was the Temple or Charlotte who had protected him, Dettomorian had truly been put in danger because of my thoughtless request.

Not being able to tell him the full details made me feel even more apologetic.

Dettomorian slowly shook his head in response to my words.

“It’s okay... Everything I need... the Temple provides...” he answered in his slow manner while still chewing on the raw meat. “If I need help... I’ll let you know... later.”

“Oh, okay... Sure.”

What could Dettomorian possibly ask for my help on?

I just hoped it wasn’t something involving ghosts...

If I had the holy sword, I could deal with ghosts in one strike... But I probably wouldn’t survive the heart attack I’d get first. After all, I had died from a heart attack just by reading hateful comments!

For the moment, things seemed to be settled, and I owed Dettomorian one. I didn’t know what his reputation was like in Class B. He was likely still the same as he was in the original story—a bit off-putting, always gloomy, silent, and muttering strange things to himself.

Now, though, with the untouchable Charlotte looking out for him, maybe he had made some friends.

“So, this is just personal curiosity. What exactly were you trying to do with that ritual last time?”

“Oh, that...”

While Charlotte hadn’t seen it herself, she must have been briefed about it. Dettomorian had performed a ritual on a cursed sword, which had subsequently disappeared.

Dettomorian started to explain the ritual while slowly picking at his food.

“I was trying to communicate with it.”

“... Communicate?”

“I was attempting to converse with the spirit dwelling in the sword... But since the spirit was asleep... I had to wake it up little by little until it could respond... Midway through, though, the ritual was interrupted as I was receiving some information.”

Primitive magic.

It was vastly different from the standardized magic of the present time. Dettomorian had tried to communicate with the spirit residing within the sword itself. However, since it had been asleep and unable to converse, he kept prodding at it gently.

Had he been saying to the sword, “Hey, are you asleep? Come on, wake up. Hey, I need to talk to you. What? You’re not waking up? Even now? Wow, stubborn little thing. Not waking up still, huh?”

Anyways, he’d managed to awaken the spirit halfway, enough to hear something akin to sleep-talking. But the ritual had been interrupted halfway through. He had truly been trying to communicate, attempting to awaken the weakened spirit of Tiamata. That’s why the sword had ended up in my room after forming a crude soul bond with me. This implied that the demonic version of Tiamata’s spirit could have been fully revived.

While Olivia Lanche had restored it to its original state as a Holy Relic, if Tiamata had been completely restored to its demonic state, who knows what might have happened? Either way, I was still its master. We couldn’t be sure what would have happened if Dettomorian had completed his ritual. Fortunately, no incidents had occurred because of the interruption to the ritual.

“By the way, are you certain that it was truly a Demon God Relic?” Charlotte asked, tilting her head.

“That... I don’t know either... I just know that it’s... very old item...”

“Hm, I see.”

The assumption that it was a Demon God Relic hadn’t been made by Dettomorian; it had been established by the high priest controlling the ritual. Whether it was actually a Demon God Relic or something else entirely had not been confirmed.

In the end, I apologized to Dettomorian, and we shared a meal together.

It was time to wrap up this matter and focus on student life in the Temple again.

“But what exactly is Sorcery? Hearing about it makes me really curious,” Charlotte asked.

“... What?” Dettomorian replied.

Charlotte tilted her head in confusion while Dettomorian stared at her.

“It’s kind of vague and hard to pin down, but it seems like you can do a little bit of everything with it,” Charlotte said. “After all, Detto figured out something even the Temple’s dark mages and priests couldn’t, right?”

“I didn’t figure it all out...”

“Still, figuring out even a bit of it is something, right?”

Dettomorian scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed by Charlotte’s praise.

‘What is this? Is he actually getting shy right now?’

“Uh... Actually, Detto, when I went into your club room last time, it felt kind of eerie... I think I misunderstood. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay... it happens to everyone...”

He seemed used to such reactions.

“But Detto, what exactly is Sorcery?”

“... What do you mean?”

“Well... when you hear about destructive magic, illusion magic, alchemy, enchantments, or magical crafting, you at least get a rough idea of what they involve, right? But Sorcery... it seems to be able to do a lot of things, but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it is. What’s the difference between magic and Sorcery?”

“Hmm...”

Listening to Charlotte, it made sense why someone might have such a question.

Of course, the Sorcery Dettomorian used was something I had created. Although I hadn’t provided much detail since he wasn’t the protagonist, I had set some basics.

If you broke things down, destructive magic, illusion magic, alchemy, enchantments, and such, were all specific genres of magic. Sorcery wasn’t a genre. Sorcery was essentially primitive magic; it was supposed to be an ancient term for what was called magic in the present time.

Sorcery, therefore, was a comprehensive concept of magic that was not confined to a specific use.

Harriet had a talent for mastering all forms of modern magic, but Sorcery wasn’t categorized as a modern genre of magic, so she wouldn’t naturally have a talent for it, since Sorcery predated modern magic.

On the other hand, Dettomorian did not have any talent in modern magic, but could master all facets of Sorcery. Hence, Sorcery itself is a comprehensive skill.

At least, that was how I had set it up. I was curious how Dettomorian, the beneficiary of this talent, would explain it in his own words.

“... The clear difference between magic and Sorcery is... the certainty of cause and effect...”

“The certainty of cause and effect?” Charlotte echoed.

“Yeah...”

Charlotte seemed somewhat confused, but I had a better grasp of what he meant.

“For destructive magic, there are specific magic formulas and methods of mana manipulation for casting a spell like Fireball... If you follow those procedures exactly, the Fireball spell is activated... But Sorcery doesn’t work that way...”

“Oh... So, you mean there isn’t a standardized method?”

“In a way, yes... Even using the same shamanistic ritual, sometimes the effect is much stronger, sometimes there’s no effect at all... Or sometimes a completely different result might occur...”

Sorcery was an ancient magic system where the cause and effect were unclear. It was the ultimate form of random magic.

Charlotte’s face paled a bit upon hearing the explanation.

“Th-That sounds... kind of dangerous,” she said.

“I’m careful about those aspects...” Dettomorian assured her, but how cautiously he actually conducted his rituals was anyone’s guess.

Charlotte nodded slowly, indicating that she somewhat understood his explanation.

Sensing that Charlotte might be a little scared, Dettomorian shook his head.

“Not all rituals or ceremonies are dangerous... Many are simple... like astrology, face reading, palmistry... fortune-telling or divination...”

Palmistry and face reading—concepts familiar even outside of Sorcery—made Charlotte tilt her head in recognition.

“Those are considered Sorcery, too?”

“Yes. Sorcery... It often involves judging these small things more than performing grand rituals... So I’m more accustomed to those kinds of things...”

In essence, shamans spent more time offering readings and collecting fees for fortune-telling than holding ceremonial rites.

“What’s divination? Can you see the future?”

“As I mentioned... it’s not certain.”

Dettomorian looked back and forth between Charlotte and me, then asked in a low voice, “Shall I... give it a try?”

“Now? Can you do it immediately?”

I felt a bit scared, worried he might foresee something ominous and dark. But Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. She laughed, noticing my apprehension.

“You’re curious, right, Reinhart?” she teased, her enthusiasm undeterred.

“Uh, yeah, I guess...” I muttered hesitantly, feeling a mix of curiosity and dread.

In the end, seeing how intrigued Charlotte was, I reluctantly nodded.

“... Remember, I only say what I see... And even I don’t know specifically what it means... So don’t blame me if it doesn’t make sense,” Dettomorian warned.

“Got it,” Charlotte replied confidently.

“Yeah, okay,” I nodded.

Dettomorian stared intensely at Charlotte for about three minutes and then turned his gaze on me, staring for another three minutes. The silence and his piercing gaze made me break out in a cold sweat.

“Show me your palm...”

“Oh, okay. Here,” Charlotte said, extending both of her hands.

Dettomorian examined the lines on her palms intently and then turned to inspect mine.

‘... Wait, are my palm lines the same now as when I’m in Baalier’s form?’

I couldn’t tell. ‘And my face... do my current facial features have any significance?’

“You both... have secrets you can never tell anyone...”

His words made both Charlotte and me freeze.

‘What? How? How did he come to such a conclusion?’

Charlotte and I locked eyes.

Charlotte knew my secret—about being the heir to the Rotary Club and knowing Baalier’s location. I also knew hers—that a boy named Baalier had helped her, that she was secretly in contact with him outside of Vertus’s knowledge, and that she wielded an unknown power.

Secrets that we couldn’t tell anyone.

Charlotte might believe that she understood what I was hiding because she knew those secrets, but in reality, there was more. I had a secret that was even more deeply hidden—that I had created this world. A secret so unbelievable that even if I told someone, they wouldn’t believe me.

Dettomorian was just guessing, or interpreting what he saw, without truly knowing the details. Nonetheless, he had quickly discerned that both Charlotte and I harbored secrets.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Then, Dettomorian fixed his gaze on me.

“Reinhart, you... need to be careful.”

“... What?”

“You’ll run into a lot of trouble because of women...”

“...”

I had no comeback for that.

Being told to conduct myself well made me break out in a cold sweat. It was true; I hadn’t exactly made wise choices. Deep down, I knew I had been something of a jerk.

But being directly called out like that... I really had no words to say. ‘What do I do now?’

“Ah... yeah, that’s something you could know without needing a reading... Reinhart is a bit of a spineless guy, isn’t he?” Charlotte remarked, looking at me with a mix of amusement and derision.

It was as if she was saying that everyone close to me was already aware of it, since most of my interactions were with girls. But still, wasn’t that expression a bit too much? Was she really being this openly disdainful?

“That’s right, Reinhart. You should take Detto’s advice and be carefu—”

“And... Charlotte,” Dettomorian interjected.

“Uh, yes?”

“You are going to marry Reinhart.”

“... Wh-What?”

The sudden bombshell left Charlotte utterly speechless.