Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest
Chapter 66: Keth’mor (2)

Chapter 66: Keth’mor (2)

Keth’mor.

A small golden-eyed blue serpent type beast that lived deep in the innermost parts of the Great Green Forest. A creature with deadly venom and dark abilities that made it one of the most feared beasts in the region.

The beast was the worst possible choice for beginners to handle.

Even experienced beast masters rarely tried to raise one because by nature, these creatures were extremely aggressive and could not be tamed. People who could actually handle them could be counted on one hand, and those who had actually tamed them... well, there were some legends, but none that anyone could confirm.

Their poisonous nature wasn’t even the main problem. The house of beast masters had plenty of ways to deal with venomous creatures. The real issue was that Keth’mor were nearly impossible to catch.

With abilities like Shadow Step, the beasts could slip into darkness the moment they sensed even a hint of danger. Once they disappeared into the shadows, it became impossibly hard to find them again.

And even if they are caught, the beasts die if they don’t have good synergy with their contractor.

And currently, Renard was saying he was going to catch one of these beasts!

Even Hobbren, who had been standing silently in the corner, looked at Renard like he had lost his mind. As for Lord Augustus, he was seriously thinking about calling a doctor for his grandson who seemed to have gone completely insane.

"Renard, do you even know what you’re talking about?" Augustus asked, his voice strained. "Keth’mor isn’t a monster you can handle. Not to mention, where are we even going to find one?"

His concerns were completely valid. Making a first contract was important and needed to be done soon.

But even if they started searching for a Keth’mor right now, it would take forever to find one. And that was assuming they could actually catch it and make it calm enough to be raised.

Renard was at a young age where he could train and shape his body however he wanted. The same applied to his essence paths and energy channels. He couldn’t waste precious time on impossible tasks like this.

But Renard already had plans.

"We don’t have to search for it, Grandpa!" he said with a confident smile. "I just need you to raid a place. That’s enough!"

Augustus stared at him. "Raid a place? What are you talking about?"

***

Meanwhile, at Gia’s Castle, Marcus stumbled through the gates covered in blood and looking like he’d seen a ghost.

The guards were terrified by the blood coating his clothes and armor. Some of them reached for their weapons, thinking he was under attack, until they recognized who he was.

They took one look at him and stepped back instinctively. They’d seen Marcus return from missions before, but never like this. Never with that haunted look in his eyes.

Word spread quickly through the castle that Marcus had returned, and Elenor came running to meet him, expecting to hear good news.

"Marcus!" she called out as she hurried across the courtyard. "You’re back! Did you finish the job? How did you handle Renard’s body?"

For a long moment, Marcus just stood there. His gaze seemed fixed on something far beyond the castle walls, beyond anything she could see. The silence stretched until even the servants stopped their quiet shuffling to stare.

"Marcus?" Eleanor’s voice dropped to a whisper. "What happened?"

That seemed to snap him back to the present. He looked at her then, really looked at her, and she saw something she’d never seen in her knight’s eyes before—fear.

"My lady," he said quietly, "we messed with the wrong person."

Elenor felt her stomach drop. "What do you mean? What happened to Renard?"

"Renard is alive. All twenty-eight of our men are dead."

The words hit her like a physical blow. "What? That’s impossible! You had twenty-eight trained mercenaries!"

"All twenty-eight died in less than fifteen minutes," Marcus continued, his voice hollow. "Killed by one old man who didn’t even seem to be trying hard."

Elenor stared at him in shock. "You’re lying. You have to be lying."

"I wish I was." Marcus’s hands were shaking as he remembered the massacre. "My lady, please listen to me. You need to stay away from that boy at all costs. Since you’ve already decided to break off the marriage, just proceed with it and don’t plan anything else against him."

He grabbed her shoulders gently but firmly. "If you want your other plans to succeed, then keeping away from that man is the only smart choice."

Elenor couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Marcus was her most trusted knight. He’d never lied to her before, never shown fear like this. But the idea that twenty-eight skilled fighters could be killed so easily...

"Who was the old man?" she asked weakly.

"I don’t know. But he moved like nothing I’ve ever seen. He used every weapon like he’d been training with it for decades. And Renard... he just sat there watching like it was entertainment."

Elenor sank down onto a nearby bench, her legs suddenly weak. Twenty-eight of her men were dead. All that money, all that planning, all those resources—gone.

"Renard said he wouldn’t come after us if we left him alone," Marcus continued. "All we can hope now is that he keeps his word."

Marcus wasn’t happy to say these words, if anything, he felt very shameful. The duty of the knight is to protect the honor of their Lord, but here he was coming back from the battle as a sole survivor, fear strucken and warning his own lady to back away!

Words couldn’t express the humiliation he felt.

Elenor didn’t say anything to him in return.

Right now, she was feeling growing alongside her shock and fear.

Anger.

Humiliation.

And a burning desire for revenge.

’Someday,’ she thought, clenching her fists. ’Someday I’ll have enough power to face that man and not back down from any fight. This isn’t over.’

But for now, she would have to swallow her pride and stay away. Marcus was right—they had messed with someone far more dangerous than they’d realized.

The question was - how had her fiancé, a fourteen-year-old boy become so terrifying?

---***---