Rine suddenly looked ahead.  

The scenery before her felt extremely alien.  

A world where everything appeared murky.  

Yet, within that world, there was a single source of warm light—a small hut.  

The moment she saw the hut, Rine realized she was in a dream.  

For over ten years now, she had been having this dream consistently.  

A fleeting thought crossed her mind: I don’t want to go.  

She had already had this same dream hundreds of times.  

Knowing exactly what was inside the hut, she had no desire to enter.  

But soon, she moved.  

Unless she entered the hut, this dream would never end.  

Silently, she took a step forward.  

With each step Rine took, the hut gradually grew closer.  

And finally, when she reached the hut and quietly opened the door—  

Creaaak~!  

A gruesome sight unfolded before her.  

The corpse of a woman with her throat torn open.  

A man’s body with his limbs twisted in unnatural angles.  

And three children, their bodies lifeless, blood pouring from every wound.  

It was far from pleasant, but Rine was familiar with this sight.  

Not only had she seen it countless times, but she had also created such corpses with her own hands.  

Yet, despite that—  

“Haa… haa…”  

Her once-calm eyes began to fill with terror, and her heartbeat gradually quickened.  

As if she had gone back ten years.  

Back to the day she saw the corpses of her parents and siblings.  

And then—  

And then, and then—  

“!!.”  

Rine opened her eyes and looked around.  

The scenery had changed.  

She could see clearly now—it was the room where she had fallen asleep.  

There were no corpses, no blood, and no warmly glowing hut.  

It was just a room bathed in the morning sunlight.  

“…Haah.”  

She covered her face with her hands, as if exhausted.  

She wasn’t sure why, but she had been having this nightmare frequently as of late.  

And so—  

Drenched in sweat, Rine lay in bed, unable to get up for a while.  

***

After the ball had completely ended—  

“Hoo…”  

King Shtalian V, seated in his carriage on the way back to the kingdom, rubbed his eyes with a weary expression.  

‘This kind of thing really isn’t for me.’  

To be honest, he hadn’t wanted to attend the ball in the first place.  

But he had no choice.  

There were political reasons, of course, but more importantly, there was still unfinished business regarding the remnants of Duke Komalon.  

…To put it more bluntly—  

By attending this ball, he could elevate the prestige of Asteria’s king and uphold the dignity of the monarchy, thus mitigating the financial compensation required for the artificial Outer God incident.  

In other words, he was using his presence to compensate with his body instead of money.  

And so, letting out another deep sigh, King Shtalian V—  

“King of humans.”  

Turned his gaze toward the voice that had called him.  

Standing there was a man clad in full armor.  

A being he had brought through a secret contract with an enigmatic non-human race for future purposes.  

The man suddenly posed a question.  

His tone was far too arrogant for someone addressing a king.  

Yet Shtalian V did not feel the slightest irritation.  

Because he knew.  

The being inside that armor and helmet was strong enough that he didn’t need to use honorifics with a king.  

“When it’s just the two of us, I don’t mind, but I’d appreciate it if you were more careful with your words when others are around.”  

“Don’t worry. I’ll play along with the charade.”  

“So, what is it you want to ask?”  

At King Shtalian V’s question, Zakurak the Scarred, remained silent for a moment before speaking.  

“Do you remember the man in the black coat at the ball?”  

“…Black coat? Plenty of nobles wore black coats, didn’t they?”  

“I’m talking about the man whose face showed no emotion.”  

King Shtalian V immediately recognized who he was referring to.  

“…Are you talking about Marquis Palatio?”  

“That’s his name?”  

“Yes. He’s quite a renowned figure in the Allied Kingdom.”  

“He must have built quite a reputation. Can you tell me more?”  

“I don’t really want to, but it’s not difficult.”  

King Shtalian V began sharing details about Marquis Palatio.  

After some time had passed—  

“Well, that’s about it.”  

“I see.”  

“But honestly, I think some of it might be exaggerated.”  

“What makes you think that?”  

“Of course, Marquis Palatio’s abilities are beyond question, but things tend to get exaggerated in retellings. For example, there are rumors that he single-handedly defeated the Outer God in the north.”  

At first, the story was that Marquis Palatio had simply played a crucial role.  

But as time went on, people added to it, and it became a tale of ‘the marquis single-handedly took down the Outer God.’  

Listening quietly to Shtalian V’s words, Zakurak finally spoke.  

“If you ask me, he’s probably even greater than the rumors say. It doesn’t seem exaggerated at all.”  

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”  

“Exactly what I said. The rumors about Marquis Palatio don’t seem like an exaggeration.”  

“…You sound quite certain. Why is that?”  

At King Shtalian V’s question, Zakurak grinned and—  

“Because he’s someone worthy of it.”  

“Worthy of it…?”  

He answered concisely.  

King Shtalian V, his voice filled with doubt, asked again.  

But Zakurak didn’t respond. Instead, he recalled the image of Marquis Palatio from a few days ago.  

The man who had locked gazes with him with an expressionless stare.  

‘…And the grotesque presence lurking behind him—so horrifying that merely perceiving it could make one’s eyes weep blood. ‘ 

Zakurak was not the type to take interest in others.  

Of course, the ominous presence behind Palatio was a concern, but even that wasn’t enough to sway him.  

There were far more urgent matters at hand, and he had left his world to collaborate with humans for a reason.  

The fundamental reason he became interested in Marquis Palatio was—  

‘…How in the world does that man have the Gauntlets of the Primordial Saint?’  

Because that man was wearing the Gauntlets of the Primordial Saint.  

The Supreme One.  

The savior who had once rescued the forsaken races abandoned by the gods—whom the elves had arbitrarily named the Primordial Elf.  

And those were the gauntlets he had used.  

At first, Zakurak thought he was mistaken.  

But there was no doubt—the gauntlets the man was wearing were the same ones the Supreme One had wielded.  

The memories engraved in his bloodline, passed down through hundreds of generations, confirmed it.  

And that wasn’t the end of it.  

He wouldn’t have been so convinced just from the gauntlets alone.  

If not for the Shadow Leaves around Marquis Palatio.  

‘There were at least six of them.’  

Zakurak recalled the six elves who had been lurking near Marquis Palatio.  

Each one a warrior of swordmaster-level strength, a force assembled solely to protect High Elves.  

They had been guarding Marquis Palatio from the shadows.  

And if the Shadow Leaves—whom only the Queen herself could mobilize—were protecting him, then there was only one possible explanation.  

“…Hah.”  

Zakurak let out a hollow chuckle, as if he found the thought absurd.  

Even to himself, it didn’t make sense.  

A dead man… had returned?  

There was no way—  

There should be no way.  

And yet, here stood a man who made him question that very certainty.  

Zakurak, lost in thought for a while, finally broke the silence.  

“Prepare a letter when we return.”  

“…It’s not the usual reporting period, though.”  

“I know, but this needs to be sent. If what I suspect is true—”  

A grin spread across his face.  

“Then everyone needs to be prepared.”  

Because the world might soon be shaken.  

***

About four days after Alon and his group departed from Terea for Lartania—  

As he traveled at a leisurely pace—  

“…Marquis?”  

“Deus?”  

Alon unexpectedly ran into Deus in a village not too far from Lartania.  

“It’s been a while.”  

“Yes, I hope you’ve been well.”  

As soon as Deus saw Alon, he approached swiftly and bowed deeply.  

“What brings you here?”  

Alon asked with a hint of confusion behind his usual impassive face.  

“I was on my way to Lartania.”  

“…Lartania?”  

“Yes.”  

“Then… wasn’t there no reason for you to stop here?”  

Alon was right to be puzzled—Deus shouldn’t have been here.  

Considering Lartania’s location, Asteria was to the east, while Caliban was to the west.  

If Deus had been traveling from Caliban to Lartania, there was no reason for him to pass through this village.  

As Alon voiced his doubt—  

“Ah, well, I had something to acquire nearby, so I came this way.”  

“Something to acquire?”  

“Yes.”  

“…Ah, now that I think about it, I heard you were making something. Was it for that?”  

“Yes, I was preparing a gift for you, Marquis.”  

“A gift for me?”  

This was news to him.  

“Yes.”  

“…So that’s what you were working on?”  

“That’s right.”  

Deus nodded firmly, a confident expression on his face.  

Seeing the anticipation in his pure and eager demeanor, Alon felt strangely flustered.  

‘Why all of a sudden?’  

That thought briefly crossed his mind.  

But hearing that someone had gone out of their way to prepare a gift for him—he couldn’t help but feel a little pleased.  

Even if he felt a little guilty seeing Deus putting in so much effort—  

‘…Well, the happiness outweighed the guilt.’  

“Where are you headed, Marquis?”  

Deus asked this time.  

“I’m also going to Lartania.”  

“Then let’s travel together.”  

“…Alright.”  

With that, Deus joined Alon’s group.  

The next day—  

Alon met Deus’ younger sister for the first time in a long while.  

“Greet him, Sili.”  

“…Hello.”  

“…? Ah, yes.”  

Alon was quietly pleased to see her again.  

But Sili—  

Her expression was complicated.  

A mixture of emotions, with just a hint of resentment.  

***

In an underground location on the outskirts of Lartania—  

Ron, the manager of the Lartania branch of the intelligence guild, silently observed the hooded woman before him.  

Rustle, rustle—  

With each slight tilt of her head and movement of her hand, another page of the document turned.  

The next page.  

Then the next.  

The woman read through to the final page of the document, then casually placed it on the blackwood desk and spoke leisurely.  

“Hmm—this isn’t quite enough. Do you have anything more?”  

“More?”  

“Yes.”  

“If you want deeper information, the money you’ve brought won’t cut it.”  

“Really? Wasn’t it quite a lot?”  

“…10 gold coins is already a generous price. Information on High Councilor Rine is expensive.”  

At Ron’s blunt reply, the woman hummed thoughtfully, as if calculating something, then smirked and shrugged.  

“Well, fine. It’d be nice to get more information, but this much should be enough.”  

“Then leave.”  

“Aren’t you being a little too cold to a woman like me?”  

“You’re hiding your face under a hood. And this is a workplace.”  

At Ron’s detached response, the woman grinned.  

“Then how about we talk business?”  

“…As I said, business requires money.”  

“I heard that you sometimes buy valuable information, too.”  

“Hmph, and you think you have something valuable?”  

“Of course. At this moment, no one else knows what I do.”  

Ron looked down at her with a skeptical expression.  

However—  

“I’ll hear the information first and then decide on the price. If it’s something we already have, I won’t pay for it.”  

He couldn’t afford to miss a potential lead.  

“Well, we’ll see if you can even afford the price.”  

“…?”  

Ron gave her a chance.  

Slowly, the woman stepped closer, bringing her face near his ear, and then—  

“The demon buried beneath the roots— $&%$%&” 

She whispered softly.  

And the moment she did—  

“…!”  

Ron realized something.  

The woman’s face, which had been visible just moments ago, was now obscured by a veil of black mist.  

A bizarre object began to take shape before him.  

As the eerie entity’s eyes slowly opened—  

Splatter!  

Ron’s head exploded.  

Blood instantly drenched the pitch-black room in crimson.  

And then—  

“See? I told you you wouldn’t be able to pay the price.”  

The woman—or rather, the Apostle of Greed—looked down at Ron’s headless corpse.  

With a twisted smile, she flicked the bloodstained documents off the desk and into the air.  

“Now that everything’s ready—”  

As the documents were sucked into the air with a ripple, a glimpse of a sinister abyssal entity briefly flickered into existence.  

“Well then, time to move.”  

The Apostle of Greed quietly stepped out of the dark chamber, leaving no one behind.  

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep