The Kingmaker System
Chapter 291 - 290. The Night Beckons (3)

Chapter 291: 290. The Night Beckons (3)

The demon’s actions weren’t random. He had deliberately targeted three villages near the Holy Place, annihilating them completely. There were no survivors—only the blood-soaked remains of what once were thriving communities. The sole exception was the Templar Knights, who had fought valiantly against the dark creatures.

The Royal Knights had arrived on the scene, but too late to be of any use. After gathering the testimonies from the Templar Knights, they retreated, their faces pale and shaken. Once again, the Templars claimed that a Water Dragon had appeared, cleansing the corruption and saving what little remained.

I knew the news of my display would spread like wildfire, my name whispered in awe or fear across the kingdoms. But I didn’t care.

There was only one place I needed to be.

I flew straight toward the Holy Place, the wind cutting past me as if spurred by the urgency in my veins. If the demon was behind this coordinated chaos, he couldn’t be far.

When I arrived, the sight before me was eerily unchanged.

The once-beautiful Holy Place remained a shadow of its former self. The corruption that had consumed it before was now gone, leaving behind only the lifeless stillness of a desecrated sanctum. Even the Holy Lake, once a source of radiant, purifying energy, remained desolate and dried up—a silent testament to the guardian entity trapped there was now free and the place, cleansed.

I landed softly among the ruins, my eyes scanning every corner for a trace of the demon’s presence. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional whisper of the breeze as it wove through the hollow structures.

The air here felt lighter than before, devoid of the oppressive weight of the dark matter that had previously tainted the place. The surrounding flora, while sparse, showed signs of peaceful regrowth. Birds chirped faintly in the distance, and small creatures scurried through the underbrush. It was almost as if nature itself had started to reclaim the area.

But I knew better than to let appearances fool me.

I searched the ruins meticulously, my senses on high alert. Every corner, every shadow, every crack in the stone—nothing escaped my scrutiny. Yet no matter where I looked, there were no signs of intrusion, no lingering traces of the demon’s energy.

Frustration clawed at me as I circled the dried-up lake. The demon was a cunning adversary, that much was certain. He wasn’t just wreaking havoc aimlessly. His movements were calculated, each step part of some larger plan I couldn’t yet see.

And that made him all the more dangerous.

I paused, standing amidst the desolate ruins, and exhaled slowly. My instincts told me that whatever the demon was plotting, it wasn’t over. This was merely the beginning.

But for now, the trail had gone cold.

I returned to the inn, the events of the day weighing heavily on me. As I approached the child’s room, I found Lyall standing inside, his posture alert yet calm.

"Did something happen?" I asked, scanning his expression for any signs of trouble.

Lyall shook his head. "Nothing, Master. I just wanted to make sure the Young Master stayed safe."

The child looked between the two of us, his gaze curious and slightly wary. He stepped closer to me, his nose scrunching as he tilted his head up. His small eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Did something happen?" he asked softly.

I shook my head, resting a hand gently on his head. "It’s nothing," I said, though my voice was heavier than I intended.

The child sniffed again and frowned. "You stink of blood," he murmured, his tone subdued.

I sighed, ruffling his hair. "There was a little problem," I said with a faint smile. "I had to take care of it."

His anxious expression didn’t waver, but he didn’t press further.

"Do I stink that much?" I asked, attempting a lighter tone. "I’ll go take a bath."

"Did you have dinner yet?" I added.

The child shook his head, and I smiled. "Let’s eat together."

His face lit up with a grin, and I turned to leave. "I’ll go clean up first," I said before stepping out of the room.

---

In my room, I bathed in cold water, the chill biting into my skin as my mind replayed the carnage from earlier. The blood, the chaos, the stench of death—it all lingered in the recesses of my thoughts.

The demon wasn’t done. This was his way of escalating the game, pushing boundaries to see how far he could go. He’d done it before, on a much larger scale. Back then, I’d had help, and we’d managed to contain the chaos before it spiraled out of control. But here? Here he was free to wreak havoc as he pleased, and I was the only one standing in his way.

I finished my bath, changed into clean clothes, and applied a faint perfume to mask any lingering scent of blood. Once ready, I returned to the child’s room.

---

Lyall served dinner a few minutes later, laying out a feast that made the child’s eyes light up. I gestured for Lyall to sit, and he complied without a word, taking his place at the table.

"Master?" the child called, his small voice cutting through the quiet.

"Hm?" I looked at him.

He stared at me for a moment, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Thank you," he said simply.

The words struck something deep inside me, and a small smile tugged at my lips despite myself. An ache stirred in my chest, quiet but undeniable.

"Why?" I asked, clearing my throat to hide the sudden tightness in my voice.

The child shook his head, his smile turning shy. He returned to his meal, leaving the unspoken sentiment lingering in the air.

He had no idea what I was going to do, no idea of the choices I was withholding from him. I had told him only what he needed to know, keeping the darker truths hidden away. He deserved some semblance of peace, even if it was fleeting.

After dinner, I stayed in his room while he settled into bed. I read him a story, my voice steady as his eyelids grew heavy and eventually closed.

I watched him for a long time, his small face peaceful in sleep. The weight of my resolve pressed down on me.

Footsteps echoed softly outside the door, and I turned toward them, recognizing the familiar rhythm. Before Lyall could knock, I stepped into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind me.

We walked back to my room, the silence between us heavy with unspoken thoughts. As I plopped down on the bed, Lyall, ever the dutiful attendant, knelt to remove my shoes.

I sighed deeply, leaning back against the headboard.

"May I ask what happened, Master?" Lyall’s voice was calm, but I could sense the underlying tension.

I hummed in response, letting a moment pass before speaking. "Do you remember the two mutated cheetahs we fought in Mordino?"

Lyall tilted his head slightly, his sharp mind already piecing things together. "Yes."

"Then you must also remember the wave of monsters that attacked Lozar and the nearby towns."

His eyes narrowed, and his body stiffened. "Are those two events related?"

"They are." I sat up straighter, my gaze locking with his. "It happened because of one person."

Lyall’s expression grew guarded, his hands curling into tight fists.

"Zale Turquoise..." I said, my voice steady but laced with venom. "He’s being controlled by a demon who was responsible for it all."

His eyes widened, and he grimaced as if the name itself left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"He’s been my enemy for what feels like forever. But meeting him today confirmed something—I wasn’t just another obstacle in his path. I was the target all along."

"But why?" Lyall asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I looked at him intently. "Why do you think? I’m a Dragon. He’s a demon. We’ve been at war since the beginning of time."

Lyall’s jaw clenched as his thoughts churned. "But how could he influence those beasts?"

"Demon blood can do that," I replied, my tone colder than I intended. "It corrupts and controls, turning even the most docile creatures into frenzied monsters."

He tensed further, his knuckles white.

"Uncle Silas extracted the black liquid responsible for driving those creatures mad," I continued. "And the demon confirmed it himself—he gave some of his blood to the former Tyrant of Mordino. After that, he turned his attention to Sestia."

Lyall’s voice wavered with frustration. "But then... you could’ve—"

"Yes, I know," I interrupted, cutting him off sharply. "I could’ve killed him right away. But..." I hesitated, my voice softening. "The child’s life is on the line. If that demon dies before undoing the curse, then the child will be stuck with it for life."

Lyall’s anger was palpable now, a storm brewing beneath his stoic exterior. I could feel the protective instincts surging within him. The child meant something to him too—he was even younger than Lyall’s own daughter, waiting for him back at Ryujin mansion.

"So, what have you planned to do?" he asked, his voice low but charged with emotion.

"I’ll deal with him myself," I said, my words carrying the weight of finality.

Lyall’s gaze bore into me, his voice strained. "Is this why you were talking about a will? About... something happening to you?"

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the pain laced in his question.

I looked at him silently, without an answer.