Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 549

It was the fourth day after the occupation of Serandia. There was a strange atmosphere around the Allied Forces’ camp, where the despair over the many deaths simmered together with the euphoria from victory. The Allied Forces were forced to make camp in Serandia, not just to endure the winter, but also to recover from the aftermath of the battle.

The bodies that could be recovered were identified and transferred to their respective units for proper funerals. Delphine Izadra’s body was missing. Given the nature of the battle, it had been assumed that more bodies were bound to be missing than found.

Clack... Clack...

After the battle, Ellen, Sabioleen Tana, Heinrich, and other elite members of the Allied Forces, who had been out securing the area around Serandia without any proper rest, finally returned to the camp.

“Rest, Heinrich. The Allied Forces will spend the winter in Serandia,” said Louise von Schwartz, Swordmaster, once they returned to camp after dealing with the surviving monsters together with her knights.

“Sister... May I go see my friends for a moment?” Heinrich asked.

Louise looked at Heinrich quietly.

Friends... Was he trying to confirm the safety of his friends in this war? If he discovered someone’s death, it would be hard to bear.

“There are things better left unknown—” Louise began cautiously before stopping herself. She wondered if she was treating him too much like a child. Whatever happened, he would find out eventually, so there was no benefit in delaying the inevitable.

“Yes, you should see for yourself,” she said instead. “You can stay there for a few days if you wish.”

“Thank you.”

Having him stay at the Kernstadt military headquarters made little difference as it, too, was surrounded by death.

“But sister... aren’t you going to rest?” Heinrich asked hesitantly.

Louise shook her head. “I have duties as a commander to fulfill.”

Though she participated directly in battles, Louise had many responsibilities and people to care for, especially after having been forced to kill her two brothers with her own hands.

Still mounted on her horse, Louise took in Serandia and its surroundings. The landscape was filled with nothing but corpses.

Her gaze lingered on the large, inexplicable craters scattered around the battlefield. Everyone knew they looked strange, but no one questioned the headquarters about them.

What were those scars on the landscape? Who had left traces of such massive destruction, which had already been there when the Allied Forces arrived?

Pondering this question silently, Louise returned to the Kernstadt military camp with her knights.

***

Having someone witness a death was confirmation enough. Second-year student Delphine Izadra was dead. First-year student, A-10 Cadina Aine, was dead.

Even if someone’s death had not been witnessed, though, those who had not yet returned were presumed dead. Third-year student Ard de Gritius was such a case. Ard, who had dueled Reinhart the Demon King before, hadn’t returned, days after the battle had ended.

Third-year students like Adriana and Rudina, who had been waiting for their classmate to return, could only weep when they learned of Ard’s death.

“He’ll come back! He might be at another camp! Why do you think he’s dead? He might not be!”

“Rudina... please...”

Rudina wept with hatred for the world, and Adriana, suppressing her sobs, embraced Rudina as she cried.

Adriana had not been able to reciprocate Ard’s feelings for her and had once left the Temple because of it. However, even though she could not reciprocate his feelings, Ard de Gritius was still a precious friend and comrade to her, and she couldn’t help but mourn his death deeply.

The Royal Class was small, and most were highly skilled combatants, so there were no more casualties or missing persons.

Casualties among the lower grades were inevitable. Already, three first-year students had already lost their lives before this, and Cadina Aine’s death in this battle meant that they were the cohort with the fewest remaining members.

The Royal Class was small, so any single death hit everyone harder.

Funerals were held under the guidance of the teachers and mentors.

Only Cadina Aine’s body was found. The bodies of Delphine Izadra and Ard de Gritius were not recovered. The moment Ludwig saw Delphine die, he knew that there was no way to recover her body.

Delphine, who had awakened the rare and unique power of spirit magic, had met a tragically absurd death.

No one was safe on the battlefield. At the funeral, some wept over the deaths of others, while others felt a strange fate hanging over them, as though they might one day meet the same end.

Ludwig sat alone in a corner, a bandaged stump where his right arm used to be, staring blankly at the ceremony. Scarlett, too, was slumped over, crying and wailing as the ceremony, missing the deceased’s body, carried on.

Scarlett, who was struggling to breathe, was comforted by Cristina and Louis Ankton. She was as miserable as Ludwig.

Though Scarlett had saved Ludwig first, in the end, Ludwig had lost his arm trying to save her from a horde of monsters, and Delphine had lost her life. Scarlett couldn’t help but blame herself for everything. Her guilt drove her to the point of self-harm, and she had even attempted to strangle herself in her quarters, but Ellen had sensed it and intervened in time.

There were those who could no longer fight because they were dead, and those who could no longer fight because of permanent injuries. Ludwig, having lost an arm, was one of the latter.

Delphine Izadra, along with Lanian Sesor, had been one of Ludwig’s first friends. Lanian Sesor, too, was staring blankly at the funeral ceremony, not even thinking of playing something.

Everyone was precious, but some were especially so. Ludwig had spent the most time with Delphine and Lanian. They had traveled together, and though they sometimes quarreled, the two of them were ultimately the most precious people to him. Now, though, he had lost one of them because he was weak. It was his weakness that caused him to lose her.

Without Delphine’s intervention, both Ludwig and Scarlett would have died in that battle. While trying to save each other, someone ultimately had to die.

Ludwig looked at the faces of those attending the funeral. Heinrich von Schwartz, now part of the Kernstadt military, was in attendance, looking grim. If Heinrich had been there, he could have blown away the giant monster from the waist up the moment it appeared, saving Scarlett instantly.

When Scarlett had fallen into the middle of the horde of monsters, he could have scorched the area around her and rescued her. No—he could have exploded the first monster that had attacked them, the one with the psychic attack, with a mere gesture.

It didn’t have to be someone with a supernatural power—any skilled mage could have done it.

The tragedy had occurred because support from the mages in the back line had halted momentarily. However, they couldn’t be blamed for that; they were saving lives elsewhere.

It didn’t have to be magic, either. If Ellen had been there, she would have cut through the monsters with her divine sword, slicing through the wave of monsters instantly without getting bogged down by any single one.

It didn’t have to be a hero with a divine sword. If only he had reached Master class himself. If only he had been able to envelop his blade with mana. If only he had been strong enough to resist the first monster’s psychic attack just a little more.

If the first monster hadn’t screamed, Scarlett wouldn’t have stepped in. None of the events that followed would have happened. It wasn’t the fault of those who did not step in to help. Someone got hurt, someone died, trying to save him.

It was his fault. All because he was weak.

Weakness, on the battlefield, is a sin.

In a world where only violence holds value, failing to wield it well meant failing to protect anything. That was why weakness was unforgivable.

‘It’s all my fault.’

Ludwig looked at his missing right arm. Being weak was a sin, and he had become even weaker.

Even without his right arm, he could still use Mana Reinforcement, but there was no way he could perform as well as before. All his learning and experience would not translate as well.

He had lost because he was weak, and now he was even weaker. He would only lose more in the future. No—he might not even be able to participate in any future battles.

Was this the end for him? Would his last act on the battlefield be to endure the misery of ignoring his friend’s death while running away to save another friend?

Did he have to become even more miserable? He had tried, but it had been no use.

‘This is my limit. I’ve lost my arm. It’s over now.

‘Wait... is it really?’

Suddenly, Ludwig recalled words he had heard long ago.

“Things like ‘I’ll do my best even if I lose’ are just excuses made up by someone who is prepared for defeat. Thinking that you at least tried hard, and that you’ll just do better next time... Isn’t that just creating a safe corner for your defeated self to escape to?”

That was the day Ludwig had sought guidance from the Demon King because he thought he would be at a disadvantage in the tournament. That was what the Demon King had said to him.

This was all back when Ludwig still thought Reinhart was just someone who tried hard. Back when he might have even respected him.

He didn’t know whether the Demon King had been hiding his true power all along. But in the end, this wasn’t his revenge to take.

There were too many people in this world who were stronger than him.

All he had ever been allowed—all he had been able—to do was kill monsters. But he couldn’t even do that properly, and he had lost both Delphine and his right arm.

He hated the Demon King. Ludwig wished for a chance to take revenge, if he could.

He hated the Demon King. But those words back then, not to make excuses in preparation of defeat, were true.

“I’ve lost my arm, so it’s over. This is my limit. I can’t do any more.”

Those words would not improve anything.

“Even if you don’t get results, you have to believe. Even if you lose, you have to fight with the resolve to win. Only then will you have even the slightest chance at a better outcome.”

No matter what kind of being the Demon King was, such words could never be wrong.

‘I’ve lost my right arm, so what? I still have my left.’

He had lost Delphine, but if he gave up now, he’d only lose someone else and drown in helplessness again.

Ludwig took his eyes off the funeral ceremony and stood up.

He made his way to the armory and gripped a sword with his left hand.

It felt unfamiliar.

With his right arm gone, even his balance was off.

He didn’t know if he could fight using only his left arm.

‘Yeah...’

There was no need to tell himself that he would try.

‘Reinhart.’

Ludwig clumsily raised the razor-sharp sword, its edge glinting coldly, and pointed it into the air.

At some point, he had returned to his old mindset.

“Someone like me... This is all I’m capable of... This is the best I can do...”

He had fallen back into the mindset he’d had during his first year—living with the heart of a loser.

His weakened resolve had made him truly weak.

Faced with overwhelming despair and terrifying beings, Ludwig had regressed into that old self, the self that sought only small, fleeting comforts.

That was why he was weak.

He knew full well that strength couldn’t simply be drawn from the size of one’s resolve.

But with a small heart, any power one could ever hope to gain was small.

He had to think bigger. Different from before.

Even if the outcome was already decided, he had to aim higher.

He couldn’t do everything, but he had to believe he could.

‘I won’t have the mindset that I can’t reach you anymore.’

The source of it all.

The one who embodied all this sorrow, hatred, and despair.

Ludwig had once given up on all thoughts of revenge, believing it was Ellen’s role to confront him.

But not anymore.

He had lost his right arm and only had his left. But even so, Ludwig made up his mind.

He may never be a match for the Demon King. He may never reach someone who had ascended to the heavens.

But, according to the words he’d once heard, that sort of thinking was just a ready-made excuse for failure. He did not need an excuse for defeat, but a vow for victory.

This was not about failure.

It wasn’t about losing.

It was about running away, about never even believing he could fight in the first place.

He would discard such excuses, such cowardice, such resignation.

‘I will...’

As he recalled the Demon King’s words...

As he recalled the Demon King’s teachings...

‘I will...’

Ludwig resolved in his heart.

‘Kill you.’

***

At the very moment when Ludwig had turned his back on the funeral, gripped his sword with his left hand and vowed not to give up, Ellen was sitting in her tent, staring at nothing.

She had been the last to hear the news of her classmates’ and comrades’ deaths.

She was always the last to return. She had no choice in that matter. That was just how it was for her.

Command had deemed this battle a great victory. No—an overwhelming victory.

The forces they had to face were weaker than expected, and with the timely completion of Titan, the Serandia campaign ended with even fewer casualties than anticipated.

If future battles proceed like this, the end of the Gate Incident could be in sight. However, faced with the horrific events hidden within that victory, it was hard for Ellen to fathom what victory even meant.

Someone else would die. These funerals would occur after every battle.

It was fortunate that not many had died. But someone else would inevitably die, and that included people Ellen knew.

Twenty thousand dead was indeed small, considering the battle they’d had to endure. Yet Ellen had to retreat to her tent, unable to bear the full brunt of the funeral directly.

It wasn’t just the fear of sensing the deaths of her classmates and juniors.

“If only I...” Ellen muttered quietly, covering her face with her hands.

After witnessing and observing countless deaths, and now facing the news of the deaths of people she knew, Ellen couldn’t help but collapse.

“If only I hadn’t been there... If I hadn’t been there, it would have been fine...” 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

She should have just died. In that cold, blizzard-ridden ancient castle of Epiacs. She should have been killed by Radia Schmidt.

However, because of her excessively, unreasonably excellent senses, she had reached Master class at that moment and survived. That was why all this happened.

If she had been killed there, she wouldn’t have been able to pursue the truth about Reinhart, and the situation would not have spiraled into the Gate Incident.

She would never have discovered that he was the Demon King. If she had died at Epiacs, the truth would never have been revealed, and there would have been no misunderstandings.

Not believing in Reinhart was a sin. Therefore, not dying where she should have was also a sin.

If she had just died at Epiacs.

If she hadn’t gone to the Temple in the first place.

If she hadn’t loved Reinhart.

If she had been indifferent from the start and remained uninterested.

If she had died at Epiacs, or if she had said one thing to show that she believed in Reinhart.

It would have been too hard to believe him, but there were still people she trusted.

Reinhart was the son of the Demon King who had died fighting her brother. It was hard to believe they had been deceived by such a person, but still, if she had believed in him, none of this would have happened.

All this sorrow and tragedy originated from her, and nobody even knew that she was the cause.

Scarlett believed Delphine’s death and Ludwig’s injury were her fault and had tried to strangle herself, but Ellen had stopped her. She had prevented Scarlett from ending her own life. Seeing that, however, made Ellen realize she was experiencing even more self-destructive impulses than Scarlett.

Overwhelmed by immense guilt, Ellen eventually reached such thoughts.

‘Someone like me shouldn’t have existed.

‘It would have been better if I hadn’t been born. If I hadn’t been born, none of this would have happened. Perhaps my existence itself is wrong.

‘If only I... if only I hadn’t been in this world...’

Despite having stopped Scarlett from killing herself, Ellen wept alone in her tent, repeating these self-destructive words in her mind.

The Demon King, the Hero, the Emperor, and the Princess... Every single one of them believed they were the one who had turned over the hourglass of destruction.

As the war intensified, such self-reproach could only grow stronger.

***

It felt like being hit on the head with a hammer.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered, stunned by Sarkegar’s report. “Are you sure you didn’t see it wrongly...?”

“Your Highness, I wouldn’t deliver such information lightly.”

Sarkegar had given me news about the situation within the Royal Class.

Ard, the guy I had tussled with at the beginning of my first semester, had gone missing. And missing meant dead.

First-year student Cadina Aine was dead, and Delphine Izadra was also dead.

Ludwig had lost an arm, and his right arm at that.

I was afraid to hear news about the Royal Class, but I couldn’t avoid it.

Delphine should have survived until the end. And although Ludwig would die in the end, he never suffered an injury like losing an arm.

I was stunned, as I listened to the news of someone’s death and the irreversible, critical injury suffered by someone who shouldn’t have been injured.

I knew that the unpredictability of battle meant that no one could be sure who would live and who would die. However, this truth was only driven home by the death of a friend and the critical injury to another.

‘How could something like this even happen to Ludwig? And Delphine died, too. Does that mean Ludwig could also die in battle at any time? Has Ludwig’s role been completely erased?

‘Is that okay? Did this happen to Ludwig because I have Alsbringer? I didn’t take it from him, though. Rather, Alsbringer chose me. But is this why Ludwig lost his arm?’

The one who should have been the protagonist had ended up being pushed into the background of the story, and had eventually lost the ability to fight.

‘Did I take too much from him?’