"Hmm, we usually move at night. Our favorite thing is to hunt down merchants and steal a portion of their goods."
"Why only a portion?"
"If you leave some things behind, there will always be someone to pick up the slack. Wait until they're fat again, then kill them."
Damn, they even know about sustainable development? Throne was actually quite impressed.
He dismounted his steed and told those few people to wait; he wanted to see what this town had for sale. The shop was pitch black. Behind a long table that had been slashed in two stood a bald man. Only when Throne got closer did he notice the man was gripping an axe. The man kept his distance and said in a muffled voice: "The shelves aren't organized yet. Look at what you want to buy yourself, and don't come near me."
He raised his hand, the sound of clanking armor emanating from beneath his cloak, and in his palm, he gripped a hand crossbow. Truly, the local customs are simple and the people hospitable. Throne shook his head speechlessly and looked at the shelves, which were splattered with blood.
Most of them were empty, but a black box in the corner caught his eye.
"What is this?"
"Ashes of a Jellyfish Clara. It's conscious, but very weak. I can sell it to you cheap."
The shopkeeper was concise. A spirit jellyfish? And it can talk? Could it be Melina's lifelong nemesis?
"Where did it come from?"
The man grinned, revealing a few gold teeth: "Stolen, looted, picked off a corpse. Isn't that how everything in The Shaded Castle comes to be?"
"Looks like I asked a stupid question."
Throne glanced at the small box. Actually, since obtaining the spirit calling bell, he rarely used it, but since he'd stumbled upon this, he might as well take it; it didn't take up much space anyway. He tossed out a bag of Runes, put away the ashes, and turned to leave.
Just as he reached the doorway, he stopped, turned his body, and raised his hand in a grabbing motion. Thwip. The black crossbow bolt was in his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he threw it straight back. Slightly shifting his stance, he saw the bald man with the bolt embedded in his brow, pinned to the wall, his whole body trembling incessantly.
His palm dropped, and the golden Runes bounced on the ground, making a 'cheerful' clinking sound.
"Tsk, these lunatics."
Throne spat, feeling a bit irritable. Ever since arriving at Volcano Manor, he had found that The Lands Between was becoming increasingly insane. Hermit Village, The Shaded Castle, followers of the Frenzied Flame—lunatics were everywhere.
This was perhaps a form of 'dementia.' Without the restraint of power, everyone could become a madman. He could hardly imagine what The Lands Between would become when the real war broke out. Looking at the gray, hazy sky outside, the Erdtree was so close. Bathed in that golden light, Throne shook his head gently. Everything starts because of you, and everything ends because of you.
The Glintstone Lamp, nearly drained of energy, emitted a dim light. Inside the old room, Throne sat on a round stool, closing his eyes to rest. Come to think of it, the inn in The Shaded Castle was quite unique. This was one of the few pieces of furniture in the room that hadn't been damaged.
For instance, the bloodstains on the bed frame were so thick they were practically caked on, making it truly impossible for anyone to sleep there. Throne gave a bag of Runes to the small group called the 'Gray Scorpions,' telling them to find a smuggler captain to act as a go-between, while he found a place to stay and quietly waited for news.
Anyway, Caria had plenty of Runes, so his little bit of waste didn't matter. As for The Shaded Castle, it gave him a completely different feeling. Upon closer reflection, he couldn't help but chuckle. The first time he had drastically affected this world was the battle of Aeonia. Its outcome was overturned, affecting the fates of too many people.
Marais had abandoned his home like a coward, leaving The Shaded Castle to rot. Throne already knew the place had changed hands long ago. With the lord gone year-round and the army stationed in Elphael, the Marais family's grip had slipped. Power shifted to the shadows, to the Council of Six Houses. They pulled strings from behind the scenes—lying to those above, hiding from those below, seizing control without spilling a drop of blood.
Throne clenched the small black box in his hand, his brow furrowed. Bell Bearing Hunters, deserters, criminals—all pawns. Distractions. But why destroy The Shaded Castle? What was the point?
He'd been pondering this since he first set foot in the northern Altus Plateau. Did the nobles really kidnap women just to keep touching the Frenzied Flame? It felt too crude, too petty. Nothing like the shrewd adversaries he'd faced before.
"Whatever," he muttered. "I'm just passing through. No time to dig into their schemes."
The box in his hand felt alive, humming faintly. The ashes inside whispered to him, pleading to be taken somewhere. Jellyfish Clara? What was she doing in The Shaded Castle? Just as Throne tried to piece it together, Melina appeared beside him.
"Aren't you eating dinner? And what's that?"
"I'd rather not swallow a pound of poison and two pounds of anesthetic."
He raised the box, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"This? Your lifelong nemesis."
Melina's wooden head couldn't compete with a jellyfish's charm. The thought amused him every time. Though, to be fair, Melina had grown. Even an iron tree could bloom, given enough time.
"Inexplicable," she huffed, crossing her arms.
"It's just ashes. Worthless to you, isn't it?"
Ten years ago, Throne might've used ashes for ambushes or meat shields. But now? Even hero ashes crumbled against a demigod's might.
"Not useful for fighting," he admitted. "But collecting them is… interesting."
He rang the bell softly. A soft chime echoed, and a jellyfish materialized in the center of the room. Its glow bathed the space in light, warm and ethereal.
"Oh," Melina said, circling it. "It's pretty."
In The Lands Between, ashes were rare—preserved only through the sheer will of their original owners.
She reached out to poke it, but the jellyfish floated back, its azure head tinged with red.
"Shy, huh?"
Melina grinned, grabbing a tentacle. She rubbed it between her fingers, marveling at its delicate, smooth texture. The jellyfish's head deepened to crimson.
"Jellyfish Clara," Throne said, watching. "Lovely name. You'll hang out with Melina now."
Melina had a knack for winning people over, even spirits. Among spirits, she reigned supreme.
"Take it easy," Throne said. "Don't treat her like a toy."
He shook the bell again, and the jellyfish dissolved into nothingness. Melina glared at him, lips pursed. Throne handed her the bell.
"Here. Borrow it. Ring it when you're bored and play with her yourself."
"No," Melina said, pushing it back. "The Lunar Princess gave it to you."
Throne shook the bell again, making the jellyfish vanish into nothingness.
Melina shook her head sharply, her golden eye flickering.
"When are you leaving this stinking Shaded Castle? The air reeks of decay."
"In a couple days. Millicent should be back by then. Nothing left worth killing here."
Throne leaned against the cracked stone wall, fingers drumming on the hilt of his blade.
"No targets worth the effort."
"Any ships heading to Elphael?"
"Don't know. Could always hijack one. Kidnap some sailors if needed."
His voice was flat, matter-of-fact.
Melina's lips twitched. Since leaving Volcano Manor, Throne had shed his caution like a snake shedding skin. But this wasn't Leyndell. No need for masks or subterfuge. She opened her mouth to speak—
A dull thud echoed outside.
She turned toward the window, but Throne's arm shot out, blocking her path.
"Don't bother. Horse thief. Torrent probably kicked him to death."
Melina frowned, her concern sharp.
"Won't that make Torrent too violent?"
"Righteous punishment."
Throne smirked, eyes glinting.
"Speaking of Torrent, Lansseax mentioned making him human-like. What do you think?"
"Don't."
She grimaced at the thought. That gluttonous steed—always clinging to Throne, never her. She'd been there first. Why the favoritism?
"A smile'll do. I'm curious what Torrent would look like."
Throne tilted his head back, his gaze drifting into fantasy. A human Torrent—gluttonous, energetic. Maybe even a glintstone form. As long as it didn't slobber all over him.
Melina huffed, crossing her arms. They'd better not team up to mess with her when the time came.
The night stretched deep, shadows pooling in the corners of the room. She rubbed her eyes, exhaustion creeping in.
"Why aren't you asleep?"
Throne sat upright on a round stool, his hand resting on his blade.
"Waiting. I made quite the scene today. Someone's bound to come looking."
"You said the Shaded Castle had no value."
"Doesn't mean I can't clean up some trash while I'm here."
His voice was calm, almost bored.
"I'm not one for debates or whitewashing. They've done wrong. I'll just kill them all."
Melina knew he meant it. He'd wiped out Frenzied Flame followers single-handedly, blade red with their blood. He had the right to say it.
"Do you need my help?"
"No. Who comes, how many—it's all unknown."
She clicked her tongue.
"You're as coy as that Lunar Princess. Can't stand injustice, but you put on this cold act. Your body's honest, though. Punishing evil, promoting good. You should be ashamed—"
Throne's knuckle-rap cut her off mid-sentence, and she vanished in a shimmer of particles.
"Nonsense. I'm no tsundere like Ranni."
His hand passed through the fading light, cheeks flushed.
"Sweeping up dust isn't worth mentioning. I'm not doing this on purpose."
"Who knows?"
Her voice echoed in his mind, teasing.
"Acting every day, you'll tangle yourself up. You're a hot-blooded idiot pretending to be cold and indifferent."
Melina's voice came from his mind, sounding like she was making a face.
"I'm not, I don't, tsk, can't you let me maintain this expert demeanor a bit longer? It's not easy to have no strong enemies; this kind of opportunity is rare."
Throne patted his face, and that lonely-as-snow indifferent expression changed, turning into boiling murderous intent.
"That's right, I just can't stand these jerks."
"If I weren't in a hurry to leave, I'd march an army through here and burn this place to the ground."
"Then do it. Like in the old tales—smite evil, defend the weak, cut down corruption. Be the fearless hero."
"I was planning to anyway. Just wanted to toy with them first."
Throne shrugged, indifferent. Melina's words had clarified things.
Whatever schemes the golden nobles were weaving, whatever grand conspiracy they'd concocted—he could simply cut through it. Slaughter the Council of Six Houses on his way out. Wasn't that enough? Power was the reason he'd become king. Power was his license to act as he pleased. The thought settled his mind.
He rose, leaning on his blade, adjusted his straw hat, and issued a final warning: "By the way, don't tell Millicent about tonight's conversation."
"Why?"
"Because that idiot Alexander's already hot-blooded enough. If she finds out I'm the same kind of lunatic, with two reckless fools as her teachers, she'd lose her mind."
Throne gripped the hilt, his thumb flicking—
Clang!
A crimson blade-light split the door in two—and the ambushers behind it. They clutched long, tube-like objects resembling bamboo flutes. No need to ask what they were there to deliver. Fresh blood sprayed across the mottled corridor.
Throne darted out. A quick glance revealed the corridor packed with figures. Not ordinary thugs—these wore heavy armor. His hand went to his right waist, drawing Moonveil. Ding. A greatsword clashed against his blade. The wielder stood nearly two meters tall, encased in heavy armor, a shield strapped to his back, a serrated greatsword in hand.
"Sir, we'd like to have a word with you."
The man pressed down with all his strength, forcing the katana inch by inch. A first-class warrior. The sword was different, but the equipment… "'Briar' Elemer? You're Bell Bearing Hunters?"
"Indeed. We've come tonight to invite you to join us in a… significant endeavor."
Throne tilted his head slightly. These people were well-informed.
"Is this how you talk?"
Blade and sword ground against each other, sparks flying. Throne noticed the man's sudden smile.
"Without strength, how can we cooperate?"
Such a warm invitation—classic Shaded Castle style. Throne increased the pressure, swinging upward, his left-hand blade stabbing straight for the chest.
Sizzle.
The breastplate bore a fresh slash. Elemer's massive frame didn't slow him. He stepped back, examining the mark on his armor.
"You've proven yourself worthy. Join us, and we leave together. Refuse, and these lives will serve as our apology. Consider it forgotten."
Throne was no stranger to dealing with lunatics. He flicked his blade, leaving a streak of blood on the wall.
"Speak. What's the job?"
Elemer showed no anger, only admiration for the cold-blooded executioner.
"That blood-red katana, that flawless swordsmanship—you must be the infamous Okina."
Throne paused, pressing a hand to his straw hat.
"That's right. It's me."
The corpses cleaved through the wall bled freely, but the Bell Bearing Hunters made no move for revenge. Instead, they stared at the figure in the center with something like reverence.