The Eternal Night Peninsula, hundreds of kilometers away from the Benevolent Heart Clinic.
It was a completely different scene.
This was the territory of human civilization, one of the most prosperous and wealthiest lands on the Ogriss continent—the Silver Moon Kingdom.
In the capital, the Corvinus Duke's Mansion.
Inside the luxurious deliberation hall, the atmosphere was suffocatingly oppressive.
The fire in the fireplace roared, casting flickering light and shadow upon the portraits of ancestors hanging on the walls, as if rows of silent eyes were watching the restless descendants in the hall.
"Is there still no news?"
Sitting in the main seat was an elderly man with graying hair and a majestic countenance.
Duke Auston Corvinus.
This man, who controlled nearly a third of the kingdom's military power, currently had a rare haze in his hawk-like eyes.
"Re... reporting to Your Grace."
Below, a middle-aged man dressed as a butler answered tremulously, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.
"The third wave of messenger ravens sent to meet Knight Captain Gareth... has also lost contact."
"It has been a full ten days since the knights entered the Eternal Night Peninsula."
"Reasonably speaking, even if the mission failed, Knight Captain Gareth should have sent someone back to report."
"But now... there is no news at all."
"It's as if... they've vanished into thin air."
"Useless!"
Auston Corvinus slammed his hand onto the armrest. The armrest, crafted from century-old Golden Phoebe nanmu, instantly turned to powder.
"A bunch of useless trash!"
"Fifty black iron knights! Led by a gold-rank powerhouse! They even carried the 'Blade of Judgment' bestowed by the church!"
"Such a lineup would be more than enough to wipe out a small orc tribe!"
"And now you're telling me that they went in to eliminate a defenseless waste, and they... disappeared?!"
The duke's roar echoed through the hall, scaring the surrounding servants so much they didn't dare to breathe.
On the other side of the hall.
A handsome young man wearing a magnificent formal suit, though with a hint of effeminacy in his features, stood before a massive military map.
His finger was gently stroking the area on the map marked as "Extremely Dangerous," a region perpetually shrouded in mist.
The Eternal Night Peninsula.
He was Lancelot Corvinus.
The duke's most beloved youngest son and the mastermind who designed the trap to frame Victor.
At this moment, the face that always wore a gentle smile showed an expression of "solemnity" for the first time.
"Father, please calm your anger."
Lancelot turned around. His voice was still elegant and refined, but anyone could hear a trace of unease within it.
"Knight Captain Gareth's loss of contact is indeed extraordinary."
"But what's even stranger is..."
He paused and took a deep breath.
"The ace scouts I sent to investigate the situation, 'Night Owl' and 'Black Blade', have also... disappeared without a trace."
"What?!"
This time, even Duke Auston could not maintain his composure.
If the disappearance of the Black Iron Knight Order could be explained by encountering a powerful pack of magic beasts,
then the disappearance of 'Night Owl' and 'Black Blade' was completely beyond his understanding.
Those were top-tier assassins the family had spent a fortune to cultivate!
One specialized in stealth and reconnaissance, the other was a master of lethal assassination!
Working together, they were more than capable of assassinating an earl!
How could they vanish into such a small place of exile without even making a ripple?
"Could it be... that waste?"
An absurd thought flashed through Lancelot's mind, but he immediately shook his head, dismissing the possibility.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
He knew Victor all too well.
Although the boy had shown amazing learning talent since childhood, he was an utter mediocrity when it came to battle qi and magic.
Add to that the fact that his leg had been personally broken by Lancelot before being thrown into that godforsaken place...
By now, he should have long since turned into a pile of white bones.
"Father, uncles."
Lancelot forced himself to calm down and began to analyze the situation.
"I believe Victor himself is not worth fearing."
"The real problem lies... within the Eternal Night Peninsula itself."
"That place has been a forbidden zone since ancient times. Legends say an ancient god fell there, causing spatial instability and monster mutations."
"Knight Captain Gareth and the others likely ventured too deep and triggered some ancient restriction or disturbed a slumbering, terrifying entity."
This explanation sounded reasonable.
The other high-ranking family members in the hall nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, that must be it."
"How could that waste possibly have such capability?"
"It seems we underestimated the danger of the Eternal Night Peninsula."
"Your Grace, I believe we should suspend operations and plan carefully. It is not worth losing more manpower for a waste."
Auston Corvinus's face was grim, and he remained silent.
Although he also felt this explanation was the most likely,
for some reason, an unshakable unease lingered in his heart.
It was as if a pair of invisible eyes were staring at him from the distant darkness.
That feeling made even this battle-hardened veteran feel a sliver of a chill.
Just as everyone was discussing and preparing to categorize the matter as an "accident,"
"Report—!!!"
A guard suddenly rushed in, crawling and stumbling, his face filled with terror.
"Duke! It's bad!"
"Knight... Knight Captain Gareth... he's back!"
"What?!"
The entire hall instantly fell silent.
Lancelot's pupils shrank violently.
"He's back? Where is he now?!"
"At... at the gate..."
The guard's voice was trembling as if he had seen something extremely horrifying.
"He... he's alone... he crawled back..."
...
In front of the grand gates of the Corvinus Duke's Mansion.
All the guards looked as if they had seen a ghost, keeping a wide distance; not a single person dared to step forward.
Before them,
a man covered in blood, his armor shattered, looking more wretched than a beggar, was struggling to crawl across the cold stone floor like a maggot.
One of his legs was twisted at a bizarre angle, clearly broken.
His other hand was a mangled mess of flesh and blood, forcing him to use only his elbow to support his forward movement.
But these were not the most frightening parts.
The most terrifying thing was his mental state.
Saliva dripped from his mouth, his eyes were vacant, and he would occasionally let out meaningless, idiotic chuckles or scream in terror like a complete madman.
"Hehe... street lamp... I'm a street lamp..."
"Don't... don't come over... don't saw me with the chainsaw..."
"Ah—! My head! My head is going to be snipped off!"
When Lancelot led the group of high-ranking family members to the gate,
this was the scalp-numbing scene they witnessed.
"Ga... Gareth?"
Lancelot looked at the man on the ground, who no longer looked human, and his voice changed pitch.
Was this really the gold-rank powerhouse who had once been so high-spirited and could sever a waterfall with a single strike?
This was clearly a beggar escaped from a madhouse!
"What happened?!"
Duke Auston's face was so dark it seemed it might drip ink.
"What on earth happened?! Who wounded you like this?!"
Gareth seemed to hear a familiar voice.
His vacant pupils struggled to focus, looking toward Lancelot.
Then,
he smiled.
A smile more hideous than weeping.
"Hehe... Young Master Lancelot..."
While giggling, he pulled something from his breast, shakily handing it over.
It was a...
blood-stained and brain-matter-smeared...
Black Iron Sword badge.
"He... he told me to bring a message..."
Gareth giggled, intermittently repeating the words that had echoed in his mind countless times like a devil's whisper.
"He said... the clinic's doors... are always open for you..."
"He said... the next medical fee... will be your... lives..."
With that,
Gareth could no longer hold on; his eyes rolled back, and he completely lost consciousness.
Dead silence.
A deathly silence fell over the front of the duke's mansion.
Everyone stared blankly at the badge, at the golden knight who had been turned into an idiot.
An icy chill shot from the soles of everyone's feet straight to the crowns of their heads.
"Clinic...?"
"Him?"
Lancelot muttered to himself, his face as pale as paper.
He finally realized.
He...
seemed to have made an...
irreparable mistake.
"Impossible... this is absolutely impossible..."
He took two steps back, despondent, and bumped into someone.
It was the family's Chief Advisor, an elderly man with a goatee.
The old man's face was equally solemn. He supported Lancelot and looked at the crazed knight captain on the ground, speaking slowly in a raspy voice.
"Young Master Lancelot."
"It seems we were all wrong."
"That waste..."
The old man paused, a deep sense of wariness and fear flashing in his eyes.
"Not only is he not dead,"
"but... he seems to have obtained some kind of... power we cannot understand."
"An entity that can easily crush the Black Iron Knight Order and drive a gold-rank powerhouse insane..."
"is not something he could do on his own."
The old man took a deep breath and spoke the most likely, yet most despair-inducing, guess.
"Unless..."
"He has sided with an... evil existence that is even more powerful and terrifying than we can imagine."
Rate on N.U.
