The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 222. I Will Come Find You, No Matter What (1)

Leo bit his lip hard as he watched Cain swing his sword toward him. His vision swam.

Moonlight streamed down from countless moons, and the air was filled with dark blue petals, swallowing the surroundings.

The swordsmanship of a master who had reached the pinnacle of Imperial Sword Arts distorted Leo's sight with every movement.

"Master, in the center!" Rigor's voice rang in Leo's head.

Claaang!

With Rigor’s assistance, Leo managed to parry Cain’s blade.

Just blocking the sword was enough to tear his grip apart. Blood slowly oozed out from between the thin gauntlet wrapped around his hand.

...Cain Latorre, Leo thought.

Cain Latorre was the loyal servant of the Malevolent Emperor, and at the same time, his grandfather’s old friend. A figure from over fifty years ago was now bearing down on him in a form that felt all too real.

The situation itself was bewildering.

Leo had no idea why the Imperial Palace from half a century ago had appeared before him, nor why he had taken on the form of his grandfather, Halo. He had simply moved according to instinct.

After cutting down countless demonic monsters, he had finally reached the main palace—only to find Cain Latorre waiting for him.

Claaang!

Cain raised his sword and erased one of the moons.

Petals that had been hiding behind the moon brushed past Leo, but he gritted his teeth and endured the blow head-on. He couldn’t block everything. All he could do was take the attacks in a solid, unyielding stance.

Cain’s Imperial Sword Arts were so unpredictable as to be impossible to read, constantly shifting in form. And yet, the situation wasn’t entirely unmanageable.

It’s so familiar, Leo thought.

Leo wondered why Caron’s face came to mind in the middle of the fight. He didn't know whether Cain’s swordsmanship resembled Caron's, or if it was Caron who resembled Cain.

But what mattered was that, thanks to having crossed swords with Caron before, he could somehow put up a resistance.

Thud!

Leo stomped down, infusing the step with mana. A portion of the staircase collapsed beneath them, causing Cain’s balance to falter slightly.

He couldn’t let that opening go to waste.

Boom!

Leo summoned a vortex that blocked off Cain’s rear. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, driving his sword toward Cain’s chest.

Crack!

Leo didn’t forget to use Rigor’s power either. A burst of icy cold shot from Rigor and froze Cain’s legs in place.

It was an inescapable strike. Cain’s retreat was sealed, and his movements were restricted. Leo had no doubt that this attack would land cleanly.

But the monster before him shattered that perfect calculation with insulting ease.

Boom!

All the petals Cain had scattered in the air exploded at once. A tremendous shockwave ripped through both Cain and Leo.

It was a decision made in a split second. Even the one who cast the spell—Cain himself—suffered internal damage, but it achieved the goal of deflecting Leo’s attack.

Leo coughed up blood, trying to stay conscious. He knew it was all an illusion, but the pain felt all too real.

Cain had been standing close, so he had to have taken a similar hit. And yet, that monster...

Thud!

“Argh!” Leo shouted.

With the back of his blade, Cain struck Leo hard across the thigh. He said with a snort of disapproval, “Your lower body is still weak."

Leo glared up at him, eyes wide with fury. He wasn’t the only one with internal injuries. Cain had blood trickling down the corner of his mouth too.

But those eyes...

Those eyes gleamed with madness. There was something familiar about them.

Even his eyes... It’s just like Caron, Leo thought.

Those eyes, just slightly unhinged—clearly not quite sane—but undeniably similar to Caron’s.

Perhaps that was why Leo suddenly found himself wide awake, his senses sharp. He adjusted his stance and drew a steady breath.

“You truly are my grandfather’s... no, a friend who once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me in battle,” Leo said.

Cain scoffed and clicked his tongue, looking thoroughly unimpressed. He remarked, “If you're going to act, at least put some effort into it. Who the hell are you trying to imitate?”

“What do you mean, acting? I don't know what misunderstanding you're under,” Leo replied calmly. “My name is Halo Leston.”

Cain paused, squinting, and then muttered, “...You really need a good beating. I should’ve known better than to think you'd grown up.”

And with that...

Thwack!

It began with a punch to the gut. Then a brutal, merciless beating followed.

“Your chest is wide open. The chest! Chest! Chest!” Cain shouted.

Wham!

“This time it’s the leg! Waist! Ah, you’re wide open everywhere!” Cain continued.

Wham!

“Argh!” Leo scrambled to draw more mana, but Cain clung to him like a mad dog. He couldn’t even swing his sword properly.

Cain used everything at his disposal—blade, pommel, elbow—every close-quarters technique imaginable.

...Is it too early for me to pass the Coming of Age Ceremony...? Leo wondered. Despair crept into his mind.

Cain Latorre moved as if he knew Leo’s every thought, every move. It was like hitting a wall. No, it was worse than that... It was like standing before a colossal, immovable barrier.

The helplessness, the frustration of fighting something beyond him, and the relentless fists... They all told Leo that this was Caron.

No, Leo corrected himself; this could only be Caron.

“I’ve got to go thrash the Malevolent Emperor soon, so I’ll let you off easy,” Cain muttered. “If that bastard weren’t around? Since this is just an illusion anyway, I’d’ve just rammed a sword right into your gut.”

“C-Caron?” Leo stuttered.

“No? I’m Cain Latorre,” Cain said.

“...Argh! D-Don’t lie. Y-You are definitely Caron...” Leo continued.

At that, Caron grinned and drove another punch into his ribs, saying in a soft, almost affectionate tone, “I’ve never lied.”

Indeed, Caron could swear to the heavens that he'd only ever told the truth. It was just that Leo didn’t understand it.

“Besides, this is just an illusion, right? No marks will be left behind. That’s what makes this a perfect crime,” Cain said.

“Hey, Caron. Can we talk like—” Leo began, but was cut off.

“I told you, I’m Cain,” Cain interrupted.

And so began a loving beatdown directed at his dear cousin.

***

At the entrance to the main palace, Caron studied Halo's—no, Leo’s—battered face with an amused grin.

Halo was a complete wreck. His face was covered in bruises, and somehow, the fact that it looked like Halo’s made it even more satisfying to see.

“That’s what you get for badmouthing me to my face,” Caron said cheerfully.

“I told you, I didn’t know it was you at first! I thought you were really a vision of Sir Cain Latorre...” Leo replied.

“So if it hadn’t been me, you’d have gone on badmouthing me? You want another punch?” Caron asked.

“I’m going to tell on you to the head of the household,” Leo answered.

“Go ahead. It's not as if there’ll be any evidence left behind,” Caron said, chuckling as he teasingly nudged Leo and began walking forward.

The moment Leo had appeared in Halo’s form, Caron understood what this trial was meant to test.

They were meant to face the Malevolent Emperor together.

And so, Caron entered the main palace at Leo’s side.

The palace gleamed with golden decor, but the air was thick with ominous dread. Even earlier, Caron had felt the overwhelming presence of dark mana radiating from deep within. It was something that could no longer be dismissed as mere illusion.

Step. Step.

Their footsteps echoed down the vast halls. No one guarded the place.

Caron found that detail eerily accurate. The illusion had recreated history rather well. In real history, the only one who had stood guard here was Cain Latorre himself.

“Are you nervous?” Caron asked casually.

Leo slowly shook his head and answered, “I was just thinking about Grandfather... He must’ve walked into this place right after cutting down his dearest friend. What must he have felt?”

“You really are a considerate grandson,” Caron said with a smirk. “Trying to understand your grandfather’s heart.”

In real history, Halo had entered this throne room alone. He had confronted the Malevolent Emperor single-handedly, and dethroned him. No one knew what exactly had occurred between them.

I was already dead by then, Caron thought wryly.

He thought that perhaps they could uncover the truth behind that day.

However, what nagged at him was the thick dark mana that had been pulsing since earlier. Caron didn't know if a dragon’s illusion magic could really replicate dark mana to this degree, but it felt far too real—just as it had on that day.

“Guillotine,” Caron said.

"Yes?" Guillotine answered.

“Be ready to fight at a moment’s notice. That goes for you too, Leo,” Caron said.

With that warning delivered to his group, Caron stepped up to the massive doors before them. Beyond them lay the emperor’s throne.

He had passed through this place more times than he could count in his previous life. It was all too familiar.

Creak.

Without hesitation, Caron pushed open the doors and stepped inside.

A deep crimson carpet that was as red as blood stretched toward the throne. Caron stepped on that carpet.

In the previous illusion he'd seen through the Pledge Stone, the throne had stood empty.

But this time, it was different. Now, someone sat on it.

“At last, my loyal knight and the one who will drag me down from this throne have arrived.” A voice oozed with dark mana, heavy and oppressive.

Caron looked up at the throne.

There sat a man draped in imperial golden robes, so long they brushed the floor. His skin was pale as white jade, and his hair was black and flowed down to his shoulders. And his eyes glowed gold, steeped in malice.

There was no mistaking him. He was the one who had defiled Cain Latorre’s legacy to his final breath, the Malevolent Emperor. That face was impossible to forget.

Caron gave a twisted smile and dropped to one knee, forcing his rage into formal words. “I greet Your Greatness, you bastard."

He paid his respects to his former sovereign with a bow dripping in blasphemy. It was the most sacrilegious salute a knight could give.

Step.

But the Malevolent Emperor only spread his arms wide, a bright smile blooming on his face as he descended the stairs one slow step at a time.

“Cain Latorre... my pitiful hound. At last, you’ve come before me with your sword drawn,” he said.

Shhhrrrk!

From behind the Malevolent Emperor, hundreds of tendrils of dark mana burst forth, surging through the air and beginning to corrupt everything around them.

The Malevolent Emperor had once been a servant of the Demon King of Havoc—one of the few humans the Demon King had truly cherished.

Crack!

The throne he sat upon began to blacken as the dark mana consumed it. The once-glorious gold tarnished and lost its luster, the sickly hue of decay spreading like mold across the chamber.

Crash!

A chandelier that was attached to the ceiling crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.

Caron wondered if this was the same presence Halo had once faced.

Demon Kings were known to offer mortal beings what they most desired in exchange for a cost. But this man had already ruled from the continent’s mightiest throne—an absolute monarch with the power to wipe out millions with a flick of a finger.

That made Caron wonder what the emperor had desired.

“I’m glad to see you still seem like the beast you are,” Caron said with a cold smile. “I really should thank the dragons for this.”

“Oh? And why is that?” the Malevolent Emperor asked with amusement.

“Because they’ve given me the chance to tear Your Majesty limb from limb, even if only in illusory form,” Caron answered, then stood up from his kneeling position. “I did think about how to best kill you.”

A murderous aura rolled off him, thick and suffocating.

Guillotine, his sword, responded with alarm. "Owner, don’t lose yourself. The Authority of Slaughter might consume you."

“My mind has never been clearer,” Caron replied.

The seas within Caron surged. Seven seas, seething with fury, rippled outward in an instant, filling the chamber with their pressure.

The Malevolent Emperor’s eyes glittered with intrigue as he watched. He remarked, “You still cannot reach me with that power. And yet, you intend to charge at me anyway?”

“You sure talk a lot for an illusion,” Caron retorted.

“Illusion, hmm... Perhaps that’s how it feels to you,” the Malevolent Emperor said.

He halted halfway down the staircase, gazing down at Caron with leisurely confidence. Then his smile deepened.

“But let me correct your assumption. My presence here is not thanks to some ancient dragon magic. I am here because I will it so. If you thought I could be bound by their spells, you have grossly underestimated me,” the Malevolent Emperor said.

The air snapped as his dark mana surged again.

“Cain Latorre, my loyal dog. Tell me—how do you like the new life you’ve been given? Have you enjoyed the freedom you once so desperately longed for?” the Malevolent Emperor asked, then flicked his long, pale finger and added, “Whether I am an illusion or reality is irrelevant."

Clank. Clank.

From every corner, Death Knights clad in Imperial Guard armor rose to their feet. A storm of dark mana spiraled within the palace.

And at its eye, the Malevolent Emperor whispered toward Caron, “What matters... is that the one standing before you is me. Is that not so, my faithful hound?”

The voice of the Malevolent Emperor echoed inside Caron’s mind.

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