Chapter 172: Do You Feel The Difference in Power? (11)

Keter sat down in the reception area, which was in a secluded area of their hotel suite. He took a bite from an apple he had grabbed from the fruit basket, then casually beckoned with a finger toward Ailos, who was seated across from him.

“Now that you’re here, hurry up and get to the point.”

“Is that all you want to ask me, Keter? Aren’t you curious about why the bomb went off? Or what the Undead showing up in the city are all about?”

“What I am curious about is why you think I would care about that crap.”

Ailos spread his arms dramatically.

“This isn’t the isolated land of Liqueur anymore; this is the outside world—a world where billions live, where your homeland, Sefira, still exists. You want to protect that kind of world, don’t you?”

“Whaaat?”

Keter set the apple down and gave Ailos a withering look. In turn, Ailos shifted his gaze toward the door and continued.

“There’s no point pretending. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how much you’ve come to cherish your new little toy, Sefira?”

Keter frowned, not because Ailos was right, but because Ailos calling his brothers “toys” rubbed him the wrong way. What made it worse was not knowing why it bothered him so much.

“Fine, let’s say that’s true. So what?”

“My goal is Lord Eslow, so I don’t think you and your toys need to get caught up in this. So, I’m offering a mutually beneficial deal.”

“You want me to drop out of the individual tournament?”

“No need to be that obvious. Just don’t make it to the finals. Third place is fine. Once you’re ranked third, leave the arena with your toys. That way, you will eventually become first.”

“Hey, Ailos. Are you jealous of my brothers?”

“...Where did that come from?”

“You keep calling them toys. Sounds like jealousy to me. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Jealousy...? Hehe, maybe. But Keter, am I really wrong? You treat people like toys. Play with them when they’re fun, toss them aside when they bore you.”

“When did I...” Keter stopped mid-sentence. He rubbed his chin and said, “I guess I used to be like that.”

“And now you want to pretend you’ve changed?” Ailos replied.

“Believe it or not, I have changed. What do you want me to do about it? It’s the truth.”

“People don’t change that easily.”

“Why are you so sure that it was easy? You damn human-hater.”

“Hah. Conversations with you are always fun. But we need to wrap this up.”

Ailos leaned forward and locked eyes with Keter. In a demonic tone, he said, “Keter. The Keter I know doesn’t waste time on useless things. You’re not the type to play hero. Plus, if your family really mattered to you, there’s no reason for you to refuse my offer.”

It was a proposition made with the lives of Myle, Anis, and Taragon on the line. Keter admitted to himself that he didn’t want them, who were like his younger brothers and close friends, to die. He wanted them to live, so he was going to make sure they did in his own way.

“The Keter you know... is he the type to back down just because someone said a few threats?”

“...”

Ailos’s eyes flickered. That suggestion he had just made wasn’t ordinary. It had been laced with the power of high dark magic that could provoke and amplify primal, instinctive fear. But Keter overcame it—no, he rose above it.

Ailos felt a sudden wave of sorrow.

...I really am jealous.

It seemed like Sefira had become family to Keter, not just mere toys.

Does Keter finally have a family? I thought we were the same... Both loners. That’s why I tried to become your family, but I was too clumsy with my words. In the end, I wasn’t able to become your family. I honestly don’t know how it ended up like this. Tsk, don’t shake me up like this, Keter.

Though he had no need to breathe as an Undead, Ailos took a deep breath for show and adjusted his posture.

“Keter. I didn’t plan on saying this, but... I possess one of the Dark Pages, the Wailing Dark Page. You remember it, don’t you? You experienced its power once back in Liqueur.”

The moment Ailos mentioned the Wailing Dark Page, the fruits in the basket shriveled and lost their vitality. Just uttering the name had tangible effects on the world.

Keter tilted his head, puzzled.

“So... your goal isn’t really to kill Eslow, is it? The Dark Pages are powerful, sure, but not enough to kill one of the Four Lords. At best, it’s a shackle, unless you have the Dark Tome itself.”

“Sharp as ever. You’re right, it can’t kill one of the Four Lords, but you know it’s more than enough to kill a Master, don’t you?”

“But have you considered this? What if I just tell Eslow about your plan and ruin everything for you?”

“Ahahaha!” Ailos shook his head, laughing. He continued, “Keter. If you were petty like that, I never would have come to you in the first place. I know that much.”

“Even if people don’t change easily... they do change.”

“Sure. People change, but some parts of them never do. Keter, you’re not the kind of man who would compromise his pride just to gain something. That’s one thing about you that’ll never change.”

“Ugh, that’s the creepiest compliment I’ve ever heard.”

Keter shuddered, rubbing the goosebumps on his arms, while Ailos chuckled warmly.

How could I possibly hate you, Keter? Even though we’re supposed to be enemies that must kill each other... you're the only one I can talk to like this.

Ailos suddenly wanted a drink. He couldn’t get drunk, as he was technically dead, but he felt like he could if it were with Keter. He wanted to spill everything—his plans, his ambitions, how he was resurrected, and the deal he made with the Godfather.

If it’s Keter... he would understand. Maybe he would even support me. He could help, if our interests aligned.

The urge to confess everything surged within Ailos, but...

No. I can’t. It’s the contract.

There was no way he could confess. It wasn’t just emotional; it was spiritual. He had a binding pact with the Godfather, forbidding him from speaking of this matter. It was a clause etched into his very soul.

“Whoa, what’s with that face? You look like you have some tragic backstory.”

Keter, sharp as ever, nailed it. Ailos chuckled dryly.

“Guess the negotiation’s off. I’ll be going now.”

But he didn’t stand up. Instead, he and the chair began sinking into the shadows.

Keter scratched his head. Shadow-travel was one of the fastest forms of teleportation magic, but Ailos was dragging it out like a snail. He was hesitating because he was regretful.

Whatever the reason, Keter didn’t care much, but he couldn’t just watch someone act so pathetic and let it slide.

“Hey, Ailos.”

“Hm?”

Half-submerged in shadow, Ailos looked up at Keter like a puppy.

“Whatever it is you want... don’t take it too far,” Keter said.

“Why are you telling me that?”

“You’ve got that cliché villain look, as if you’re dreaming of the world’s destruction.”

“...!”

“Try it once. If it doesn’t work that time, give up. This is my honest advice.”

“

Pfft

. Telling me to go ahead and try ending the world... You really are insane, Keter.”

“Well, just make sure you don’t get killed by me before that.”

“That might actually be preferable...”

Shh...

Leaving behind only a faint, wistful gaze, Ailos disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Keter propped both feet up on the table.

“Hmm... so he’s really going to use the Wailing Dark Page, huh?”

Each one of the Dark Pages contained a unique power. The Wailing Dark Page held the ability to unfold a domain: the Deep Dark Fantasy. The Undead’s greatest weakness was sunlight, as they couldn’t regenerate under it. But the Deep Dark Fantasy didn’t just nullify that weakness; it enhanced their powers.

The Wailing Dark Page shrouded the surrounding area in total darkness, turning it into an ideal environment for the Undead. But that wasn’t all—it also completely blocked sight with a darkness the eyes could not adapt to.

“Sure, Sefira’s eyes might offer some resistance, but that’s not the real problem.”

If it were just about turning off the lights, that would be nothing more than a harmless prank.

“Ailos is definitely planning to unleash Undead in there as well.”

Even the weakest Undead, like lowly skeleton soldiers, could exert knight-level strength within the Deep Dark Fantasy. If he released them there, not even a Master could hold their own. And this would all happen in a tournament arena packed with tens of thousands of spectators. The chaos would be unimaginable.

“A lot of people are going to die.”

Keter didn’t particularly care if hundreds or thousands of innocent citizens died. But something else was gnawing at him.

“Knowing my brothers, they will most likely step up to save people.”

He was certain they would, even in a situation where they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves. Saving someone for no reason was idiotic, and yet, he had a gut feeling they would absolutely do it.

“That’s going to be a problem.”

Ailos had openly declared his intent to shackle Eslow, so he was most likely preparing not just skeleton knights but Death Knights, a high-tier Undead that rivaled a six-star Grandmaster. Sure, Eslow could deal with one while picking his nose, but it would be far too much to handle for Keter’s brothers.

“Agh...”

Keter groaned, grabbing his head with both hands.

“Protecting something really is way harder than destroying it.”

Then suddenly, he grinned.

“Which is why it’s way more fun.”

Just fighting the Undead empowered by the Deep Dark Fantasy would already be intense. But on top of that, having to protect his brothers at the same time?

“Ahh, that’s going to be brutal.”

He seemed troubled by it, yet he was smiling.

Then he murmured to himself, “But my brothers need to be ready. I didn’t enter this tournament just to have fun.”

Keter decided it was time to rig the board for the growth of his brothers and the glory of Sefira.

* * *

Keter didn’t expose Ailos’ plan to Eslow, but he did share the truth with the Sefira group.

“...We need to tell His Grace immediately.”

Myle’s reaction was understandable. Tens of thousands of citizens and hundreds of nobles were gathering. Who could possibly think it was fine to ignore a terrorist threat in a place like that?

Anis and Taragon both nodded in agreement, but Keter shook his head.

“You guys hate seeing innocent people die, right?”

“Of course we do.”

“Then we need to act like we know nothing.”

“Why?”

“Ailos is deliberately targeting just the stadium. That’s not just because it is limited by size. If he wanted, he could plunge the entire city into darkness. If that happens, it won’t just be tens of thousands—it’ll be hundreds of thousands at risk.”

“E-even if that’s true, can’t we stop the domain from being deployed in the first place? I think His Grace could do it.”

“Keter, I just don’t understand you. Even if we can’t prevent it like Taragon said, we can still prepare. There are thousands of knights in this city. The difference between being ready and being caught off guard is massive.”

“So you all think I’m just letting this happen?”

The three brothers didn’t agree, but they didn’t deny it either.

That was when Katherine, who had been silently listening, carefully said, “Lord Keter isn’t that heartless. I think... he’s trying to keep things under control.”

“Keep things under control...?”

“Yes. I mean, that Ailos person told you ahead of time what he plans to do. But if you tell others and ruin his plan, even you wouldn’t be able to predict what he’ll do next. A foreseeable crisis would become an unpredictable one.”

“...!”

The brothers’ eyes widened at Katherine’s sharp analysis. Even Keter looked at her with a hint of respect.

“See, guys? Be more like Katherine. She’s not exactly right, but that’s roughly what I meant.”

“But, my lord, even so, I still don’t know if your plan is the right one. I’m sorry. Just thinking about how many people could die... I can’t help but feel like warning them would save more lives.”

“...”

The three Sefira brothers nodded grimly. Truthfully, their reaction was normal and realistic. When tens of thousands of lives were on the line, only two types of people could calculate the most efficient outcome: heroes or lunatics.

Keter didn’t fully understand their feelings, but he understood enough not to feel frustrated.

“Do you regret it? Would it have been better if I hadn’t told you at all? Should I keep it to myself next time?”

“No.”

“We would have been more disappointed if you were the only one who knew.”

“It’s hard to bear, but better than being in the dark.”

“Then you have to take responsibility. Anyone who holds something must bear the weight of holding it. If your hands are empty, there’s nothing to take responsibility for. But if you’re holding something, you must take responsibility.”

“...”

“Is it right to kill a thousand to save a hundred? Or to kill a hundred to save a thousand? Can any of you answer that?”

“...”

“There’s no way to save everyone. If you try to save everything, you’ll end up losing more.”

A heavy silence followed.

Then, breaking it, Anis looked at Keter and said, “Keter... can’t you do it?”

“Huh?”

“You’re strong, right? I think... maybe you could keep everyone alive.”

“Hmm... you’re not wrong.”

Keter acknowledged the point, and their faces lit up slightly. But what he said next was far from reassuring.

“But if I do that, then I’ll be the one who ends up losing something. I’ll have to give up something precious to me to save people I have no connection with. Are you okay with that?”

“That’s... no.”

“That answer was a little half-hearted. I could hear what you were really thinking. You were thinking that it would be more worthwhile to save others, even if it means losing something.”

“...”

Silence again. The atmosphere grew tense. Seeing that the conversation wasn’t progressing, Keter shook his head.

“Why did I even tell you the truth, knowing this would happen? Oh, right, I wanted you to understand. I wanted you to agree with me—to stand by me.”

He asked and answered his own question.

Clack.

Keter stood up and opened the window. Normally, someone opening a window usually meant they just wanted fresh air, but they knew better. Keter liked to use windows like doors.

“Keter... are you...?

“You’re not seriously leaving in the middle of the night?”

Ignoring their protests, Keter stepped up onto the windowsill.

“I’m a bit disappointed. It’s hard to stay here right now. I guess I overestimated you all.”

The brutal honesty of Keter left the three brothers speechless.

“If you leave like this, what are we supposed to do?”

Myle fought down his shame and tried to stop him, but...

“Do whatever you want.”

That was all Keter said before he casually jumped out the window.

It was Keter’s way of giving them a challenge. Being strong didn’t just mean being able to defeat or kill someone; true strength included mental fortitude as well. One had to be able to act even under crushing pressure. One had to know how to move forward, even when crying. Only those who have fallen knew how to rise again. Even if they failed, failure was also a lesson.

Through this crisis, Keter hoped that, whether they succeeded or not, his brothers would grow mentally stronger.

Of course, the brothers had no way of knowing any of this. From their perspective, there was plenty of room to misunderstand Keter in a negative way. Keter also knew that this kind of lesson could make them hate him.

Well, that’s how the world works.

Keter preferred strong brothers who might hate him to weak ones who relied on him completely.

A week passed like nothing. The team tournament ended, and the short break before the individual tournament flew by. The city bustled with excitement, as if nothing had happened. Tens of thousands of spectators flooded into the stadium. Not a single seat was empty.

The final event of the Sword of the Southern Tournament—the grand finale of a long and grueling competition—had begun: the individual tournament.