The Kingmaker System
Chapter 298 - 297. Time For Final Act (1)

Chapter 298: 297. Time For Final Act (1)

I stepped out of the barn, carrying the child securely in my arms. The night air was cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the battle we had just left behind. Behind me, Lyall remained inside to remove Zale’s shackles and extract the information we needed—the demon’s name and the details of their contract.

The child stirred slightly, his small hands clutching a fistful of my cloak. His voice was hesitant, uncertain. "Who was he?"

I glanced down at him, his wide eyes filled with fear and confusion. "He was the one being used by the bad guy," I explained gently. "The one who cursed you."

His grip on my cloak tightened, fingers trembling slightly. "I-Is he going to die then?"

I smiled, shaking my head. "No," I reassured him. "I’ve helped him out, so he’ll go back home. We’ll probably meet him in the future."

The child’s eyes widened in wonder, his fear momentarily replaced by awe. He studied my face as if trying to understand how I could say such things so casually. I simply smiled at him, letting the moment ease his worries.

Minutes later, Lyall stepped out of the barn, his expression unreadable but his presence steady. He handed me the information I needed—everything about the demon and the contract binding him to this place.

With that, we set out.

The path ahead was clear, yet the weight of what lay before me settled heavily in my chest. This was the final act, the last move in this dangerous game. I had made every preparation, considered every possibility, but in the end, it would all come down to the moment itself—how well I could execute my plan and, more importantly, how well I could protect those who needed me.

Failure was not an option.

We landed in the forest clearing, the crisp night air heavy with an ominous stillness. My gaze lifted to the sky, where black mist curled like a beacon, rising in thick tendrils from the ground. A signal. A warning.

The stench of burning flesh hit me next, acrid and suffocating. My eyes fell on the source—a knight’s lifeless body, engulfed in writhing black flames. The mist pouring from it stretched high into the air, leaving a dark trail like a scar across the heavens.

I shifted, stepping in front of the child to block his view. He shouldn’t see this. Not yet.

Lyall stood beside me, his posture tense. My gaze met his.

"Once the curse is lifted, take the child and leave immediately," I ordered.

Lyall’s jaw tightened. His lips parted as if to argue, but he swallowed the impulse. Here, now, there was no room for defiance.

"Yes, Master," he said, though I caught the flicker of unease in his eyes.

Beside him, the child glanced between us, his small fingers curling into his sleeves. He didn’t speak, but he sensed it too—the weight pressing down on this place, thick as a storm about to break.

A ripple of energy brushed against me, cold and suffocating, a presence unlike any other. My Dragon’s Mana roiled inside me, restless, resisting.

The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed in the clearing, followed by slow, deliberate footsteps.

Then, from the darkness, he emerged.

"Welcome, Dragon," the demon greeted, its voice slipping through the night like oil, thick and unctuous.

I exhaled evenly, forcing my shoulders to remain relaxed, though my eyes were already scanning him. The figure before me was clad in dark armor, his massive sword dragging against the earth as he walked. The blade vibrated ever so slightly, resisting the grip that held it.

Not surprising. The man wielding it wasn’t himself.

Crown Prince Arian.

Possessed.

I had almost expected my Patrons to intervene, to assign me the task of saving him, but no such decree had come. I supposed that meant, in their eyes, I was still the better bet—even if it meant sacrificing Arian here and now.

[Goddess of Wisdom reminds you that you were the one who asked them to put their bets on you.]

[Defender of Divine Glory says that they all have placed their bets on you as per your word.]

[Giver of Gifts trusts your capabilities and prays for your victory.]

I sighed through my nose. "Thanks, guys," I thought dryly.

Arian’s fiery orange eyes were gone, replaced by endless black voids. His sword trembled in his grip, the dragon’s essence within it raging, as if it wanted to be free—to tear the demon apart.

"You arrived right on cue," the demon chuckled, tilting Arian’s head slightly. "You wouldn’t have figured it out if not for that little fish, right?"

I met his gaze, unflinching. "Yes, you were being so discreet about it," I said, glancing at the cursed blade. "I never would have guessed you were planning to kill me."

The demon’s grin widened, sharp and knowing.

"I suppose we should start by removing the curse, hm?"

"Yes."

The demon’s gaze slid toward the child. His blackened eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he observed the small figure clinging to Lyall’s side.

"It’s been a while, little one," he murmured, lifting a hand and beckoning him forward.

The child did not move.

The demon clicked his tongue. "I can’t remove the curse unless I touch him," he whined, as if put upon.

I forced my expression to remain impassive.

I stretched my hand toward the child. "Come here."

He hesitated but obeyed, his tiny fingers wrapping around my forefinger. He pressed close, his small frame trembling against me as he peeked at the demon from behind my coat.

"He looks much healthier now," the demon mused, tilting Arian’s head to the side. "I suppose an older dragon’s affection works wonders."

"Enough chitchat," I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

The demon pouted mockingly before his lips curled into a smirk. His black eyes gleamed as he reached out for the child.

The boy flinched but did not let go of my finger.

I stepped forward with him.

The demon’s smile widened as he watched us approach, but then, slowly, he began to move.

Backwards.

Toward the burning corpse.

My expression darkened.

"Where the hell are you going?" I demanded.

"You want the child free of the curse, don’t you?" he said lightly, stepping closer to the smoldering body. "Then send him here."

The child’s grip on me tightened.

I exhaled slowly, my fingers twitching at my sides. I had no choice. Not yet. For now, he still held the advantage.

The child looked up at me, his eyes pleading.

I met his gaze, then took another step forward, leading him toward the flames.

"Not you, Dragon. Only the cursed," the demon said, his grin splitting wide, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth.

I narrowed my eyes at him before glancing down at the child. His small hand clenched my finger so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His whole body trembled, his breathing quick and uneven.

I gently cupped his cheek, tilting his face toward me. "Don’t worry, I’m right here," I murmured. "If he does anything, I’ll get you."

The child’s lips quivered as he shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He wasn’t just scared—he was terrified.

I lowered myself to his eye level, holding his gaze. "Trust me, child," I said firmly.

He sniffled, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. Then, with clear reluctance, he nodded.

Slowly, painfully, he released my finger and took hesitant steps toward the demon. Every few steps, he glanced back at me, his wide eyes searching mine as if clinging to a final thread of reassurance.

I remained still, my expression calm but unwavering. I would not let anything happen to him.

He reached the demon, the charred corpse lying between them like an omen.

The demon’s smile stretched wider, full of amusement and something far more sinister. Then, with deliberate slowness, he raised his foot and pressed it down on the dead knight’s chest.

At that moment, the black mist surged.

The swirling tendrils, once lazily drifting, suddenly moved with purpose. They slithered like living serpents, coiling around the child and the demon. The boy stiffened, his breath quickening as he turned to me, panic flashing in his eyes.

The mist didn’t stop there. It coalesced, drawing downward and merging into the ground, forming an enormous, intricate incantation circle that pulsed a deep, bloody red.

The child let out a frightened whimper and took a step back, but the demon was faster.

With a swift motion, he reached out and grabbed the boy’s arm.

The child yelped in fear, struggling instinctively, but the demon’s grip was unyielding.

I stepped forward, stopping just at the edge of the circle. My instincts screamed at me not to enter, the sheer malevolence of the spell radiating like heat from a fire.

The demon’s other hand clamped over the child’s mouth.

Then, he clenched his fist.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, violently, he wrenched his hand back—and from the child’s mouth, something emerged.

A massive, writhing red snake.

I watched in silence, my muscles coiled, ready to strike at the slightest sign of danger.

The child convulsed, his body swaying. Then, through the bond, I felt it.

The darkness inside him—tainting his very soul—was gone.

His energy was clean. Pure.

Relief flooded through me.

The boy’s legs buckled. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious, his tiny form unmoving.

The red glow of the incantation circle pulsed violently before retracting, the black tendrils retreating into the corpse.

The dead body, once a conduit of corruption, now lay motionless, no longer emanating darkness.

A slow, pleased sigh escaped the demon’s lips.

"There, all done," he said, stretching his arms with a lazy grin. Then, his eyes flicked to me, glinting with unmasked excitement.

"Now, it’s just you and me, right, Dragon?" he beamed.