The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 226. His Tomb (2)

"What a magnificent sight," Sabina murmured softly as she looked out at the mountain of demonic monster corpses piled before Cain's tomb.

There was nothing particularly grand about the tomb of Cain Latorre. It was just a single headstone, and a staircase leading down into the earth.

On the headstone, carved in Halo's handwriting, were the words:

"The tomb of one who finally attained the freedom he longed for."

"My brother made this tomb himself," Sabina said.

"Grandfather did?" Caron asked.

"He dug it with his own sword and crafted the stone chamber using an artifact. It's nothing special. Ah, although of course he placed a barrier. He personally asked the former Master of the Magic Tower to install it, so no one could approach it easily," Sabina answered.

The two of them spoke as they slowly descended the stairs. The trail of demonic monster corpses continued all the way down.

Sabina examined the marks left behind on the corpses—signs of swordsmanship. They had been cleaved in a single stroke with overwhelming power. It was as if someone had swept through them like a tidal wave. It wasn't difficult to deduce what style had been used.

It's the Oceanwolf Sword Arts, Sabina thought.

It was the signature technique of the Oceanwolf Knight Order and the Ducal Family of Leston. There was no mistaking it—the traces left behind were clearly from the Oceanwolf Sword Arts.

However, Sabina couldn't determine whose sword it had been. Judging by the remains, the monsters had been slain in a single blow. There had to be over a hundred of them, so Sabina wondered how many people in the family were even capable of doing that.

Perhaps it was Halo, or one of the elders. No one else could possibly explain this situation.

But even so, this wasn't the Oceanwolf Sword Arts of the current generation. The style was older—far older.

Was there someone in the family's history who vanished into legend? Sabina wondered.

Various possibilities ran through her mind, but in the end, there was only one conclusion.

Whoever had wielded this sword was waiting inside Cain's tomb.

Sabina turned to Caron with a casual glance, then asked, "Is there a reason you rushed here so suddenly?"

Caron gave a slow nod and answered, "I just... felt that I had to come quickly."

"Why is that?" Sabina asked.

"It's hard to explain... I guess you could call it instinct? But more than anything, Guillotine wants to," Caron replied, giving his sword a light shake.

"I'm telling you, there's a familiar energy coming from here. Trust me on this," Guillotine said.

"A sword that drags its master into danger. Doesn't that make it a demonic sword?" Caron asked with a smirk.

"You're the only madman in this family who'd call the First Ancestor's sword demonic," Sabina replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I take after you, Aunt Sabina," Caron said.

"Haha, what a funny comment. But even I wasn't quite as mad as you," Sabina said.

Light-hearted banter to ease the tension was practically a tradition in the Ducal Family of Leston.

With teasing smiles, the two continued their descent until they finally stepped into the stone chamber.

And at that moment...

"Caron. Stand behind me," Sabina said sharply as she stepped forward.

Whoosh.

An immense surge of mana radiated from the center of the stone chamber. It wasn't dark mana—but that only made it all the more bewildering.

It was Azure Mana. Pure and pristine Azure Mana.

"May I ask who you are?" Sabina asked, and to her own surprise, formal speech slipped from her lips. Even she couldn't help but show respect in the presence of such power.

A soft voice echoed from the darkness a moment later. "You must be that child's guardian. You've had a rough time of it, haven't you? Not that I invited you here, but... You're welcome all the same."

"Please tell us your identity," Sabina requested.

"Hmm, let's say I'm a lingering wraith of the ducal house... Will that suffice?" the voice answered.

Caron narrowed his eyes, channeling the power of Pluto to pierce the shadows. Pluto had always been his sight in the darkness—but this time, something felt off.

Meow.

Pluto couldn't track the voice's source. That meant this presence was beyond even its perception.

"If you truly are a wraith, then I have even more reason not to let this slide," Sabina said, her tone firm.

The voice beyond let out a slow sigh before saying, "Didn't Gratia say anything? That scatterbrained dragon... Always forgetting the important parts. Alright, what's your name?"

"...Sabina Leston," Sabina asked.

"That's a fine name. I'm glad to know a warrior like you exists in the house during this era—it eases my mind a bit. But Sabina Leston... This moment isn't for you," the voice added.

"Were you the one who killed the demonic monsters outside?" Sabina asked.

"Hmm. That's right. Not long after I awakened, that damned Demon King of Havoc began causing trouble. Luckily, there was a fine body stored here, so I'm borrowing it for a bit," the voice explained.

Sssshhhhh.

With those words, the stone chamber filled with a gentle blue glow. The darkness lifted, and a man stepped into view—missing his right hand.

"...Ha," Caron exhaled, unable to stop the laugh that slipped out when he saw the man's face.

It was Cain Latorre. That was unmistakably his own face.

If not for the immense Azure Mana radiating from the figure, it would've been easy to mistake him for a Death Knight.

Sabina reacted the same way. Her expression twisted with fury, more intense than ever before. She said coldly, "You've crossed a line that should never be crossed."

The wraith in Cain's form merely shrugged and replied, "The Demon King of Havoc came here trying to steal this corpse, so I didn't have much choice."

"You... What are you?" Sabina asked as her grip tightened around her sword, ready to unleash her aura at any moment—but before she could, Caron stepped in front of her.

"Lady Sabina, let me handle this," Caron interrupted.

"You don't know what he is. It could all be some trick of the Demon King," Sabina said.

"I'll be fine," Caron said as he smiled calmly, eyes fixed ahead. "I can vouch for who he is."

Whoosh.

Guillotine, resting at Caron's hip, began to resonate with powerful intensity.

Sabina felt the resonance in her bones—and in that moment, something clicked. With a sigh, she sheathed her sword and took a step back.

Her gaze lingered on Cain Latorre—the man who had once been her brother's dearest friend. Cain had deserved peace, at least here.

And yet... Sabina wondered why fate had to desecrate even his corpse.

"My brother would never have allowed this," she said bitterly.

"I'm a wraith now," Cain replied, his voice calm. "So I'll ask him for forgiveness myself."

"I'll give you two some space. But remember this—no matter who you are, if you bring harm to Caron... I will cut you down without hesitation," Sabina warned.

"Amazing attitude," the wraith said with a small nod.

"Ha..." Sabina exhaled deeply, turned around, and walked out of the tomb.

And so, within the stone chamber, only two figures remained—Caron, and the wraith wearing Cain's face.

A quiet silence passed between them.

The one to break that awkward silence was none other than Caron. "So first the doppelganger, and now this. Is imitating my old face the latest trend or something?"

The wraith chuckled and replied, "I only did what I could to protect this poor soul's body. I left behind a fragment of my consciousness through ancient magic—without it, I couldn't interact with the physical world at all."

"So you decided to possess a corpse. How is this any different from the dark mages?" Caron asked.

"Dark mages summon beasts. Me? I kill every one of those damn things I see," the wraith answered.

"Oh, now that's something I like," Caron said with a faint grin as he stepped forward. The closer he got to the wraith wearing Cain's face, the more violently Guillotine pulsed at his hip.

"Ah, right," the wraith said with a sheepish tone. "I guess I should apologize. Possessing your corpse without permission... Sorry about that. But really, I had no other choice. You get that, right?"

"Of course, of course. Honestly, it's a lot better than letting that bastard Demon King of Havoc turn my body into a Death Knight," Caron said.

"Haha! My descendants have a generous heart. If it were me, I'd have cursed them out!" the wraith said.

"Do you want me to do it?" Caron asked.

"Hey now, I'm your ancestor," the wraith answered.

Caron gave a sly smile and said, "Cursing old folks is kind of my specialty."

The wraith let out a laugh, then glanced down at Guillotine, his voice softening. "It's been a long time, Guillotine."

Whoosh.

Guillotine roared in response, "Owner, let me ask you for a favor. Please!"

"What is it?" Caron asked.

"Punch that guy in the face for me!" Guillotine replied.

"That guy's face is mine, though," Caron said.

"Do you think I care?" Guillotine retorted.

Guillotine really had no idea how to express affection properly.

With a small shake of his head, Caron gave the sword a light swing toward the wraith and said, "Guillotine says he wants me to plant a fist in your face."

"That's because it's a demonic sword. Even after all this time, it's still a demonic sword," the wraith explained.

"Ah, so Guillotine is a demonic sword after all," Caron remarked.

He straightened his clothes, his posture now composed. Though the man before him wore the form of Cain Latorre, Caron had long since realized the truth of who resided inside.

"It's an honor to meet you, First Ancestor," he said.

It was Rael Leston, the First Ancestor of the Ducal Family of Leston.

As Caron offered a respectful bow, the wraith—no, Rael Leston—gave a small smile and nodded.

"The honor is mine, to meet one of my descendants—" Rael began, but was cut off.

Whump!

Before Rael could finish, Caron drove a fist into his gut. He grinned brightly as the wraith wheezed in surprise.

"First Ancestor or not, you don't get to play with my corpse and walk away unpunished. That punch was well-deserved," Caron said.

***

"Ha, our dear bastard descendant packs quite a punch," Rael said.

"Mind changing your face, please?" Caron asked.

"Why?" Rael replied.

"Because it feels like I'm hitting myself, and it hurts," Caron explained.

"Hmm... But I rather like this look," Rael replied with a mischievous grin.

Flaaash!

With a burst of light, Rael's appearance shifted. A young man with blond hair, blue eyes, and a noble air stepped forward—the very image of the Ducal Family of Leston's First Ancestor. He looked exactly like the portrait hanging in Azureocean Castle's office.

"Is this better?" he asked, still smiling.

"Can I say something?" Caron asked.

"Go ahead," Rael answered.

"You look way more punchable in person," Caron commented.

"Now, now. It's not good to be jealous of your ancestor," Rael teased.

Caron had been wondering why the face seemed so familiar—until it hit him. The man looked remarkably like himself. Shockingly so, even.

From his features to the aura of mana he radiated, it was uncanny. Anyone who saw them side by side could easily assume they were brothers.

"What remains here is just a fragment of my consciousness," Rael explained. "I sealed it in the Sea of Beginnings using ancient magic."

"Then the voice I heard back then..." Caron trailed off.

"Yes, that voice was mine. I made it so that if any descendant destroyed the Pledge Stone and reached that place, my consciousness would awaken naturally. I couldn't have my dear descendant dying just because of some Coming of Age Ceremony, could I? Think of it as... insurance," Rael explained.

"So people had something like insurance back then too," Caron said.

"Of course. Though it looked a bit different from today's version... Still, it worked out, didn't it? If not for me, you and your younger brother—" Rael said, but was interrupted.

"He's my older cousin," Caron corrected.

"Older cousin, then. Either way, you both would've been in deep trouble. So be grateful and respect your great First Ancestor," Rael said.

Caron had expected the First Ancestor of the Ducal Family of Leston to be some majestic, charismatic figure. Instead, he got this cheeky, sharp-tongued man.

But there was one thing he now knew for certain.

The madness that was flowing through their bloodline—this wild spark that burned inside them all—had started with this man. That glint of murderous intent in Rael's blue eyes said it all.

"Do you want to sit?" Rael asked, gesturing his chin toward the back.

There was only one thing there: A coffin.

"There's not much else to sit on around here. But I'll make an exception and offer it to you," Rael said.

"That's my coffin," Caron said.

"Oh, is it? Well then, do I have your permission?" Rael asked.

"How could I pass up the chance to sit on my own coffin?" Caron replied, smirking as he sat down.

He'd often wondered what it would feel like to come face-to-face with his previous life's corpse. But now that he was actually sitting on its coffin, it felt... ordinary. Nothing special. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Just a touch bitter.

And so, the ancestor and his descendant sat side by side on the descendant's coffin.

"If you went so far as to leave behind a part of your consciousness," Caron said slowly, "then I'm guessing you prepared something. Right?"

Rael nodded with a quiet smile, then said, "Of course. A gift for the worthy heir who'll carry on my will."

"Your will?" Caron asked.

"To erase the Demon Realm from this world. I couldn't destroy it myself—but you have to," Rael answered.

"We have the same goal," Caron said.

"Exactly. And that is why I like you even more," Rael replied.

Even if it hadn't been the mission of his family, or his ancestor's dying wish, Caron would've still aimed to bring down the Demon Realm.

After all, no one in this world hated demonic monsters more than him.

"Oh, before I give you your gift," Rael added, his voice lowering slightly, "There's something I need to tell you."

"Go on," Caron said.

"Your past self—that is, the man known as Cain Latorre..." Rael began as he raised a hand and pointed at his own chest.

"Cain Latorre should never have existed," Rael stated.