A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 148: The Shadow Assembly (6)

The tightly sealed door of the gathering hall opened, and a girl stepped inside.

“That must be... the Demon King candidate.”

“...Is she covering her face?”

“Hmph...”

The black mages, who had expected to finally see the face of the veiled Demon King candidate, showed obvious disappointment when the girl entered wearing a mask.

“You called for me, O Great Shadow.”

“......”

“Your disciple, Ember, answers your summons.”

But the moment she spoke, there was no longer any need for proof.

The mere fact that she so casually referred to herself as the Great Shadow’s “disciple” was evidence enough—she was the one and only Demon King candidate.

“Great Shadow, if I may, I’d like to make a suggestion.”

Unable to let it slide, the Shadow Witch spoke up in a low voice.

“According to the new policy announced by the Great Shadow, all participants of this gathering must reveal themselves.”

“......”

“And indeed, everyone here has shown their face. If the ‘candidate’ alone refuses, wouldn’t that raise concerns of fairness?”

Her argument was perfectly valid.

“...Forgive me, but the executives are all hiding their faces.”

That is—assuming Ember’s statement hadn’t been equally true.

“This is a hierarchical society, is it not? The identities of executives must be protected...”

“Then by that logic, shouldn’t mine be protected as well?”

“Surely you don’t mean to conceal your face from everyone... until that day?”

“If possible, I think that would be best.”

The tension between the Shadow Witch and Ember quickly turned icy—enough to make even onlookers feel uneasy.

...Now what?

Even Whitney, who had by now grown somewhat used to playing the role of the Great Shadow’s proxy, found himself frozen, unsure when to interject.

“Both sides make a fair point.”

At that moment, the Death Knight—who had been quietly watching—cut in with a sharp voice.

“Considering matters of security and such, it might be wise for the Demon King candidate to remain hidden.”

“Right?” Ember responded with a bright smile, but her face stiffened slightly at the words that followed.

“However, if she remains so thoroughly hidden... one must question whether she is truly fit to become the Demon King.”

“......”

“The Demon King is meant to rule from above. How can you hope to dominate if you refuse to show yourself?”

Just as Ember had made valid points earlier, so too were the Death Knight’s arguments sound.

“And as for why we, the executives, do not show our faces—it is because we are meant to support the Demon King from the shadows.”

“Oh? But what does that have to do with—”

“When the Demon King stands at the front, we must be behind. That is our role.”

Though slightly tinged with personal opinion, his reasoning was still solid.

“So everyone’s that curious to see my face?”

“It’s not a demand.”

“Maybe she’s just not wearing makeup? If that’s the case, I’d be happy to help! I’ve always wanted to try makeup on someone your age!”

“...I—I’m good with cosmetics, too.”

With that, a slew of colorful remarks emerged from the executives—though they all carried a single intent: stop stalling and remove the mask.

“Well, perhaps I should’ve shown a bit more restraint...”

To the executives—who had fought viciously over the candidacy—Ember, who had suddenly appeared and ended the succession war in one stroke, was nothing short of a thorn in the side.

But under the Great Shadow’s direct command, her identity and whereabouts had remained completely shrouded. They’d never had a chance—until now.

They weren’t about to waste it.

“So this is how it’s going to be...”

Still, Ember had one person she believed in.

“Great Shadow, what should I do?”

The Great Shadow—the one who had chosen Ember and stood as an absolute figure to all black mages.

Under his protection, Ember was certain the executives would be silenced.

“Ember. Reveal your face.”

“...What?”

“Remove your mask and show your face.”

And so, when the Great Shadow—seated with chin resting on hand—gave that order, Ember could only question her own ears.

“Great Shadow...?”

She blinked several times, her voice confused.

“W-what do you mean...?”

“......”

“Are you... being serious right now?”

But the Great Shadow remained unchanged.

I need to make sure it’s really the girl I saw before.

And that was no surprise—because the one seated on the throne wasn’t the Great Shadow himself.

It was Whitney, filled with quiet suspicion.

“Candidate, you’re not ignoring the Great Shadow’s command... are you?”

“......”

“We respect your authority and ability, yes—but only [N O V E L I G H T] because the Great Shadow himself acknowledged them.”

Still staring in disbelief, Ember’s face twisted as the Shadow Witch added her voice to the pressure.

Then, at last, her hand slowly rose toward her mask.

“...Quite the sight.”

“...Tch.”

The Death Knight muttered quietly, recalling his own similar humiliation earlier, and Ember flinched slightly.

Her trembling hand finally reached the mask.

“...Oh?”

“Hm...”

“So that’s her...”

As her face was revealed to the room, all eyes turned toward Ember in interest.

“I didn’t get a chance to dye my hair today...”

Black hair. Black eyes. A foreign look, unlike anyone else in the room.

“...Is she from the Eastern Continent?”

“Seems that way...”

“Didn’t know Demon Kings could come from there.”

Some looked on with wonder—others, with curiosity. Those who had served in the East glanced at each other, exchanging knowing glances.

“...I thought so.”

And in the midst of the suddenly restless gathering, Whitney’s quiet, chilling voice rang out.

“...?”

It was soft, yet sharp—and everyone turned toward him in confusion.

But even through their perception-interference curses, they couldn’t discern anything further.

“Hahaha...”

Still, despite the enchantments, everyone could feel it: the Great Shadow was smiling—darkly.

***

“Ember. You may put your mask back on.”

Time passed in silence, all held still by the oppressive aura of the Great Shadow.

At last, Whitney spoke again, his voice relaxed and calm.

“We’ve decided to move up the Demon King’s resurrection.”

He turned his attention to Ember.

“Today’s agenda is to set the time and place.”

“......”

“Do you have any thoughts?”

Ember, who had already hurried to replace her mask, lifted her gaze to the throne.

“...About the Demon King’s resurrection.”

She paused, gathering her thoughts, then spoke with formal care.

“As I’ve mentioned before—there’s only one possible location.”

“......”

“Um... but is it really okay to say it here?”

She hesitated, but Whitney simply nodded.

“Then... yes. I’ll speak.”

Looking around with slight unease, she lowered her voice.

“The Demon King’s resurrection site is in the Northern Continent.”

“......”

“In one of the harshest, most dangerous remote regions.”

The expressions of the black mages darkened with every word.

“How does she know that?”

“...Shh.”

Some murmured their doubts, but none dared voice them too openly.

The Great Shadow had summoned her—there had to be meaning in that. Perhaps his goal was to use Ember’s authority to restore order after recent chaos.

The more perceptive had already come to this conclusion.

“So... where exactly?”

Even the executives, like the Death Knight who now asked with an impatient tone, didn’t believe this was Ember’s idea.

Obviously, the Great Shadow had chosen the location—but they couldn’t question Whitney directly. So they turned to her.

“Hmm...”

After a brief pause, Ember sighed and finally answered.

“An Icy Mountain Range. Known since ancient times as a sacred territory of dragons.”

At those words, silence fell.

“The territory is ruled by the Dragon Lord. Even if all the executives went together, there would likely be heavy casualties.”

“......”

“If I and the Great Shadow joined, that might change things...”

The northern region—especially the frozen central range—had been a dragon domain long before the first Demon King.

And the dragons, then as now, declared absolute neutrality.

That neutrality was protected by overwhelming force—so even the first Demon King, in his early days, had no choice but to sign a non-aggression pact.

And the current Dragon Lord? Known as the strongest in history.

If even the Great Shadow had chosen that place—it meant there had to be a reason it couldn’t be anywhere else.

“Pardon me, but—may I ask why?”

“There’s an artifact there. One capable of unifying all the scattered powers of the Demon King.”

The Jester’s question drew a decisive answer.

“I heard we’ve moved the schedule up...”

“......”

“I believe we’ll need to act before the end of this year.”

Another blow. As the black mages realized they had to conquer the Icy Mountains, Ember continued.

“May we ask why?”

“...It’s simple.”

Her next words rendered all prior debate among the executives utterly meaningless.

“A white mage is currently in talks with the Dragon Lord—trying to form an alliance.”

“What’s his name?”

And at that moment, Whitney’s expression hardened like never before.

“Count Robert Ringaarden.”

Because at last—his father's whereabouts and true intentions, once only hinted at in Lumen Ordo, had been fully revealed.