From a Broken Engagement to the Northern Grand Duke's Son-in-Law

Ling was dead.

A perfect hole punched clean through her chest, edges still smoking from the force of my technique.

For a heartbeat, the arena fell silent—even the bloodthirsty crowd stunned by their champion’s sudden demise.

Then the roar returned, louder than ever.

“WOOOOOOOOOO!”

The thunderous approval washed over me as I stood above Ling’s corpse, her lifeless eyes reflecting the arena’s harsh lights.

I reached down and carefully extracted the key hanging from her neck—a simple silver chain that held my true objective.

Click.

The necklace parted with a soft sound, and I palmed the key. This was it: the key to Hasilan’s warehouse, the artifact I’d traveled so far to claim.

She never would have surrendered this willingly.

I studied Ling’s face, peaceful now in death. Strange how someone who’d held the title of champion could fall so easily.

But then again, she’d never faced Enoxia’s techniques before. To most fighters, they were nothing short of apocalyptic.

The problem was, they were nearly as catastrophic for me.

I glanced down at my hand, noting the subtle tremor that ran through my fingers.

A few more uses of that technique and I might find myself permanently crippled. If only I’d been able to use my bow instead… but sometimes the direct approach was the only option.

“Can’t be helped,” I muttered, clenching my fist until the trembling stopped.

The cold metal of the key bit into my palm, grounding me in the present moment. 

The pain could wait. What mattered now was securing Hasilan and extracting myself from this den of criminals before my presence attracted unwanted attention.

From the Five Gangs to Pepia the Count of Madness—there was still so much I needed to confirm.

“Champion! Champion!”

The crowd’s chant followed me as I walked toward the fighters’ quarters, but I’d already moved beyond their world of blood and coin.

Hasilan awaited—Death Veil’s divine artifact.

And while I was fetching it, dealing Artezia a humiliating blow seemed like an excellent bonus.

* * *

Clang!

“You’re really saying we can leave?” The fighter’s voice carried disbelief and desperate hope in equal measure.

“Yes. Find your freedom.”

“...God above.”

I moved through the holding area, unlocking every cage and freeing the men and women who’d been trapped in this nightmare.

None of them had chosen this life—every single one had been captured, kidnapped, or coerced into these blood-soaked games.

“However, I’d appreciate a favor in return.”

The same fighter who’d spoken before stepped forward. “What is it? After what you’ve done, I’ll help however I can.”

“I’m planning to wage war against the Five Gangs. Will you stand with me?”

He looked me up and down with a dubious look. “Honestly? Doesn’t look like you need help.”

Honestly, I was confident I could take them all on by myself.

They were nothing more than street thugs, really.

I might not have reached Grandmaster rank yet, but I could steamroll the lot of them alone.

The problem, however, was that I had no time.

I couldn’t afford to sit around playing tag with some gang punks. Especially when I had a bad feeling about the situation.

I didn’t even know exactly what those “red gems” were.

And that was hardly the only unknown in all this. The Duke of Artezia wasn’t the type to leave things to chance.

He must’ve prepared something I had no idea about. Something he’d save as a last resort.

First, I would use these fighters to test the waters. If they ended up dying?

Well… at least I could avenge them.

“I have other business to attend to,” I said aloud, masking my calculating thoughts. “Consider it a personal favor.”

“Yes, well. Alright. Should we kill them all?”

“Leave two or three alive from each group. I’ll need to question them.”

“Right.”

The fighters nodded and began filing out of their cages.

I tossed a heavy coin purse toward the group’s apparent leader.

Clink!

He caught it with both hands, staggering slightly under the unexpected weight. The others gathered around, staring at the purse with confused expressions.

“What’s this for?”

“Wages,” I said simply. “You’ve earned payment for the work you’ve done here.”

“You could have kept it all.”

“My conscience was bothering me.”

And it might be funeral money, I added silently. Consider it hazard pay.

“Take it quickly. I need to collect my own earnings.”

“Yes... thank you.”

Their subdued voices followed me as they departed the underground arena.

They’d likely encounter spectators on their way out, but I couldn’t worry about collateral damage. People who found entertainment in others’ suffering had made their choice long ago.

I had more pressing concerns.

“Building a warehouse in a place like this,” I muttered, examining the wall beside the fighters’ quarters. “Clever bastards.”

To casual observation, the small rectangular gap was just another imperfection in the stone. Even I wouldn’t have noticed it without foreknowledge from my previous life.

I reached into the space, feeling about until I found the hidden mechanism.

Click.

The wall split apart with mechanical precision, revealing a concealed vault beyond.

“Impressive engineering.”

I smiled and retrieved Ling’s key, inserting it into the lock with careful precision.

Click.

Gears turned, mechanisms engaged, and the vault door began to swing open.

Ancient hinges protested as brilliant golden light spilled forth, forcing me to shield my eyes against the sudden radiance.

“Damn.”

After the initial dazzle faded, I lowered my hand and surveyed the treasure within. 

Mountains of gold coins created glittering peaks throughout the chamber, but my attention fixed immediately on the artifact resting at their center.

Hasilan.

The thread seemed to pulse with its own inner light, beautiful and terrible in equal measure. I’d heard whispers of Death Veil’s divine artifact even during my time as Artezia’s hound, but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.

Finally.

I approached the artifact surrounded by gold, taking it into my hand. It felt as if the very air around it could cut.

With this, I’d have a genuine chance against the Demonkin.

But as I secured Hasilan, my gaze drifted to the vast wealth all around me.

“What a waste,” I sighed, surveying the fortune that could have funded House Praha’s operations for years.

The rebellion had stretched our resources thin, and this treasure could solve those problems permanently.

Unfortunately, I had no practical way to transport such wealth. Hiring workers was a gamble, and in this country crawling with criminals? There was no guarantee they’d transport it safely.

You can only take what fits in your pockets.

But as I prepared to abandon the gold, something caught my eye—a small ring nestled among the coins, its golden surface nearly invisible against the surrounding treasure.

“What’s this?”

Curiosity hooked me forward, coins crunching under my boots as I retrieved the seemingly mundane piece of jewelry.

The moment my fingers closed around it, recognition hit like lightning.

“Ha... haha.”

A Dark Relic. Not just any Relic—one with infinite storage capacity.

I slipped the ring onto my finger, testing its weight.

Technically, only the Emperor was permitted to wield Dark Relics, but the Emperor was hardly in a position to object.

Besides, I could use it discreetly.

“Ram’s Ring,” I whispered, savoring the irony. “What a windfall.”

The Dark Relic was more famous than most people realized. Ram, the Count of Gluttony, supposedly distributed these rings to his most trusted subordinates. Any scholar of demonology would recognize the description.

With this, I can take everything.

I activated the ring’s power, feeling the familiar tingle of demonic energy flowing through the metal.

Whoosh!

Light erupted from the ring, and the entire treasure hoard vanished into its infinite storage.

The chamber stood empty, leaving only stone walls and the lingering scent of old gold.

Perfect.

* * *

Meanwhile, chaos consumed the Five Gangs’ leadership.

Unknown assailants had appeared without warning, systematically destroying their operations throughout the city.

When intelligence finally reached the bosses, they learned the attackers were somehow connected to the underground arena.

Bang!

“What the hell is that crazy bitch Ling doing?!”

Gang boss Vax slammed his fist against the table, wood splintering under the impact.

The arena fighters weren’t just destroying property—they were killing his people and stealing everything of value. At this rate, there wouldn’t be enough tribute to send to the Duke’s estate.

If their payments fell short... Vax shuddered, remembering Duke Artezia’s creative punishments for failure.

“I don’t know why Ling’s gone rogue,” he growled, “but we need to catch those bastards now.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Bob, the only other surviving boss.

“What do you think? We tear them apart!”

Bob maintained his calm demeanor. “And the red gems? The team we sent to Python got wiped out too.”

“Those idiots couldn’t manage basic Aura control!”

“Right, those idiots are dead. So what about the gems? Are we just giving up?”

The red gems were Duke Artezia’s assignment, but their ultimate destination was Count Pepia himself.

If they redirected their remaining forces to handle the arena situation, they’d leave themselves vulnerable to the Count’s wrath.

With limited personnel and crises erupting on multiple fronts, the gang leaders faced an impossible choice.

“We kidnap him,” Vax decided. “And kill that damned daughter of his.”

“Then he won’t create the gems.”

“He doesn’t need to know she’s dead. We tell him we’re holding her hostage, that he needs to complete the gems to save her life.”

Bob snorted. “What a demon.”

“Shut up. If this job fails, you’ll die alongside me.”

“Fair point.”

Bob stood casually, straightening his jacket. “You handle Python’s daughter, while I defend the gang.”

“Kill every last fighter. That money-grubbing whore has clearly betrayed us.”

“Did you really think someone that greedy would stay loyal forever? Fine, I’ll protect what’s left of our organization. The other bosses are probably finished anyway.”

“Don’t worry about them. We only kept them around as decoys.”

“True enough.”

Bob grinned and headed for the exit, pausing only when Vax called after him.

“Don’t you dare lose. If you think you’re going to die, take the Duke’s medicine.”

“I was planning to anyway.”

Bob pulled a small bottle from his jacket, shaking it so the contents rattled against the glass. Red pills clinked together, emanating an aura of raw demonic energy.

“I’ve been curious about this for a while,” he mused. “What I’ll become.”

The same demonic corruption that birthed a Gargoyle in House Praha now waited in a simple medicine bottle—ready to turn desperate men into monsters.