Chapter 213: United Against the Infernal Fiend

“Hah… Captain, I made it just in time, didn’t I?” A familiar voice rang beside Hugin’s ear—light-hearted with a note of teasing, but simultaneously tinged with profound relief. It was Charles.

“You… how did you…”

Hugin’s gaze swept around him. They were at the edge of the mansion, in one of its peripheral rooms. Through the window, he could see the distorted edge of the Reflected World, a space carved open by sorcery. Its boundary was marked by an unnatural, otherworldly hue.

“Well… long story short, I am a member of the Ryders, after all. The old me saw some glimpses of your future, Captain. You’re the kind of stubborn fool who’d march off alone to face this Engel fellow. Seems like you actually pulled it off—but then…”

Charles drew a finger across his neck and stuck out his tongue with a dramatic eye-roll.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Hugin said hoarsely. “My death was always inevitable. The things inside me… with time, they grow harder and harder to restrain. As I grow stronger, so do they. And once I can no longer control them, they’ll become a catastrophe.”

Though Charles had used his Tarot cards to teleport Hugin to safety, Hugin’s condition hadn’t improved.

The demons within him had nearly torn free from his control. Signs of their presence—horns, scales, and other grotesque mutations—surfaced and writhed along his body.

No longer deceived or suppressed by fighting spirit, the demons had ceased cooperating. Now, they only sought to seize his flesh and carve their path to freedom.

“I knew you were stubborn, Captain,” Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead. “But I didn’t think this stubborn…”

Hugin remained unmoved. “Malevolent Possession—such a potential was never meant to be. My hands are stained with sin. These creatures have made me something… other. I only feel human when I act on what I believe is right.

“Becoming one of the Nightblades’ leaders gave me that sense again, like I still had a place among men. Seeing those comrades fight for their ideals… it made me believe I was walking the right path. For that, I owe Father Fang.

“But I’m no saint. When the time came to choose between defending the capital or exacting revenge, I chose vengeance. Even though… even though the mission I abandoned was of the utmost importance…”

His voice was heavy, nearly drowned out by the chaos of his body. But he hadn’t yet given up. He was still drawing on his potential and struggling to suppress the demons.

Even without them, he was still a grand knight. His vengeance was not yet complete.

“An aberration, huh…” Charles muttered. “Captain, could you stop acting like you’re so special?”

He scratched the back of his head as though weighing his words. In the end, he said nothing more. He walked over to Hugin’s side and placed a hand against the man’s back.

Then, Charles’s voice changed. Strange syllables, arcane and alien, spilled from his lips. A flow of power surged into Hugin.

Hugin’s eyes flew wide open. The demons in his body were no longer rioting. Their savage presence had vanished entirely. “They’re… gone?” Hugin rasped.

“For now,” Charles nodded. “Convincing enough, right? You’ve got a couple demons in you. I’ve got a devil in me. Not so different, are we?”

He grinned, watching Hugin stare in disbelief at his own hands.

“I’m not blaming you, Captain. But next time, at least tell us. Even if you don’t trust me, or Wang Yu, or Edward… surely you trust the Professor?

“My little devil friend cut off their connection. You may not have your potential anymore, but you’re still a grand knight.

“And since you insist on your revenge, why not take your subordinate along for the ride? I’m a writer, remember. In my story, the stubborn main character doesn’t get to die here.”

Charles puffed out his chest and jabbed a finger at himself with an exaggerated flourish. It was clear he was genuinely proud of that self-appointed title.

“…Thank you, but you’re still too weak. Leave this to me. Once an hour has passed, this space will collapse. You can escape then. As you said, no matter what, in all the futures you’ve seen, I’ll kill Marquis Engel.”

Hugin’s voice was low but resolute. He raised the sword that had fallen to the ground, uncorked a flask of stamina and spirit-restoring potion, and strode toward the chamber where Engel had last been.

The secret chamber that once gave Engel vision over every corner of the mansion had already been destroyed. He could no longer perceive everything that happened within. Even without his latent potential, Hugin still had a chance.

“Oh, Light above… Captain, can you please stop trying to shoulder everything yourself?” Charles groaned behind him.

“You were always like this in the Nightblades—every report, every emergency task, you insisted on handling them alone. Sieg always joked he had nothing to do. You don’t have to carry all this alone, y’know?”

He was nearly pulling his hair out now. This was Hugin to a fault—quiet, dutiful, and maddeningly stubborn when it truly mattered. He simply refused to let anyone else risk anything for him.

Charles had no idea what kind of past could shape a man like this.

“Argh, fine! I just have to prove I’m strong enough, right?!”

With a frustrated yell, Charles pulled a Tarot card from his sleeve—The Fool, upright—and flashed it for Hugin to see.

“Every seer, in the end, finds their prophecies returning to them. Whether for money or some other cause, fate always circles back.

“I’m no prophet—but I do use these arts to twist fate, and my tarot cards will return to me in turn. This one, The Fool, represents myself. With it, I gain the power of every card I’ve ever used.”

He tossed the card into the air. It shimmered and dissolved, releasing a swirl of void energy and magic that flowed back into his body. A subtle change passed through him.

“And now, this—”

A spatial portal opened in his palm. Without drawing another card, Charles invoked the power of The Star, conjuring a gleaming alchemical firearm into his hands, a gift from Wang Yu: the Fury of the Forge.

Without pause, he took aim and fired. A three-second charge shot through the wall beside them, shattering it into molten brick and smoke.

Seeing the fierce glint in Charles’s eyes, Hugin realized that Charles had grown far stronger than he had expected. The tarot cards’ power flowed freely through him, and with that formidable weapon in hand…

“…I have no reason to say no. Thank you for your help.”

Hugin rubbed a hand over his face, accepting defeat—not in battle, but in this battle of stubbornness. Charles was even more unrelenting than himself.

“That’s the spirit! Let’s go kill your old enemy together,” Charles said, slamming his fists together with a grin.

“Stay sharp. Engel won’t be easy to face,even without control over the mansion’s arrays.”

Hugin showed no sign of relaxing just because they’d gained an advantage. From the beginning, he had regarded this act of vengeance as a path to mutual destruction.

“Got it.”

Charles nodded, the flicker of excitement vanishing from his eyes as he, too, steeled himself.

Together, they moved cautiously through the mansion, seeking the whereabouts of Marquis Engel and his grand knight.

Meanwhile, Marquis Engel shook his head in shock. “What’s going on? How could a second intruder have entered the mansion? The formation’s feedback indicated only a demonic signature—Hugin’s.

“That Tarot user must be Charles Ryder—the Ryders’ bloodline ability, then? No wonder he could track Hugin’s movements. But does that mean there’s a demon inside him as well? That’s impossible…”

Having left the hall to defend against a surprise assault, Marquis Engel stood still in thought.

He couldn’t fathom how Charles had bypassed the detection wards. Ironically, the possibility he deemed least likely was the truth.

“Hugin is already crippled. Charles Ryder is merely an ordinary magician. Just to be safe, though, I’ll have to sacrifice you. Finish them off within an hour.”

He turned to his grand knight, his face dark, and drew a spelled carving blade. Without hesitation, he began etching a sigil into the back of the knight’s neck.

“If I don’t act now, then once this pocket space collapses, I’ll have no way to touch Ryder given his special status.”

The blade slid across flesh, splitting the tough skin at the knight’s nape. Crimson muscle lay exposed beneath. Blood ran freely down the knight’s neck. Though his body shook in pain, he uttered not a sound.

“Those Nightblades will catch the scent of blood like the hounds that they are. Everything I’ve done to disappear will be for naught.”

With his final stroke, a grotesque sigil came to life—etched in flesh, lined with blood, and laced with power. The formation pulsed.

As a demonologist, Engel knew just what he was doing. This ritual would awaken the demon slumbering within the body of the grand knight. The knight would be devoured in the process, but if it meant killing Hugin and Charles Ryder, then so be it.

The acrid stench of brimstone thickened the air. The knight’s body began to shift. Tough, crimson keratin spread across his limbs, claws burst forth, and his eyes turned a sickly yellow. A vertical slit replaced his pupils.

“Kill them. This knight is yours now,” Engel commanded.

The twisted knight turned and looked back at Engel, its gaze brimming with unmasked malice and bloodlust.

Then it turned and charged down the corridor, leaving Engel’s back dripping with cold sweat.

“That monster…”

It was precisely because he’d dealt with demons for so long that Engel understood that beings from the deeper levels of the infernal planes were almost impossible to control.

But thankfully, it seemed to have been satisfied by the offering. Judging from its reaction, it seemed quite interested in Hugin and Charles Ryder itself.

“Careful—something’s coming! Damn, that smell… It’s a fiend from deep within the infernal planes. Captain, did your nemesis summon this thing? Just what the hell is Marquis Engel meddling with?!”

Charles froze, his expression darkening.

He sniffed twice. The scent of a demon reached his nose—and what the voice of “One” told him in his mind made his skin crawl.

An infernal fiend was completely different from lesser demons. Though both fiends and demons were able to control fire, lesser demons like imps could barely manage a few fireballs and had frail bodies to boot.

But an infernal fiend, which came from deeper levels of the infernal planes, were as strong as grand knights. Their terrifying control of fire and honed battle instincts made them nightmares to face.

Walls shattered. The intensity of the sound seemed to be increasing as the fiend drew ever closer.

Something was approaching, and violently at that. The fiend tore through walls, furniture—everything in its path as it beelined straight toward them.

Hugin moved at once, stepping protectively in front of Charles. He drew his longsword, gripped it with both hands, and stood firm. His fighting spirit surged, forming a translucent armor over his body.

A moment later, the wall before him exploded.

Through the debris lunged a monstrous creature. Red flesh rippled over muscle, without a hint of skin in sight. Its legs were thick, its forelimbs long and clawed.

It shrieked in a high-pitched wail of fury.Without even glancing at Hugin, it shot toward Charles.

“Come here!” Hugin roared, swinging his blade at the fiend. His fighting spirit extended its edge and carved out an arc.

The fiend twisted midair with inhuman agility, greenish hellfire igniting around its claws. It clashed with the arc of fighting spirit in mid-strike.

The explosion scattered flaming embers everywhere. Walls scorched. Floorboards melted. Fire spread in every direction.

The impact threw the demon back slightly, its claws digging into the floor as it skidded to a halt, unharmed.

Its vertical blood-red pupils locked onto Hugin. It crouched, then launched itself forward, bricks flying underfoot, its form blurring as it hurtled toward him.

Hugin met it head-on, sword raised.

The two collided. Hugin grunted, the force of the impact jarring his arms. Even as a grand knight, the creature’s strength was staggering. His sword was nearly wrenched from his grip.

The demon bit down on the blade, claws gripping it and holding it tightly in place. Using Hugin’s resistance as leverage, it flung itself forward again, its hind legs erupting in flames as it closed in.

Hugin’s brows furrowed. With his potential sealed, his power as a knight was greatly diminished.

He yanked hard to toss the sword away, but the fiend clinging to it made the movement sluggish. Its back leg, blazing with flames, was sure to hit Hugin.

But he wasn’t alone. A translucent barrier shimmered into being around Hugin. As the flames hit the barrier, they neutralized each other in a burst of light.

At the same time, a streak of searing energy tore through the air. Fury of the Forge: Charged Shot. In mid-air, even with its enhanced reflexes, the fiend couldn’t evade in time. The blast struck it dead-on.

Blinding light and force erupted together. The demon was sent flying. Hugin, caught in the edge of the blast, was also thrown back several meters.

The demon smashed into a wall, punching a gaping hole through it and vanishing within.

“He’s not seriously injured. Watch his position,” Hugin warned grimly.

Despite the force of the blast, the demon’s resilient body had only taken a deep wound—barely a scratch for something of its kind.

“Got it.”

Charles activated a tarot card, The World, upright. His perception shifted, and pulled back into a third-person perspective. He scanned the broken wall, tracking the vanished demon.

There it was—circling the room from beyond the walls, fast and relentless.

“What is it doing…?” Charles frowned, trying to anticipate its next move.

Suddenly, as “One” transmitted some information into his mind, he turned to Hugin and shouted, “Run!” He vanished, activating The Star as he teleported to safety.

Hugin reacted swiftly as well. He slammed his fist into the ground, collapsing the floor and descending with the debris.

A moment later, hellfire burst in from all sides, consuming the room they’d just been in—walls, ceiling, floor—obliterating it all in a wave of searing flame.

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