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Chapter 16: The Theocracy of Lurtra Receives a
Landless King
"For me to go against a nation... I need one of my own."
Leornars leaned back in his chair, eyes skimming
over the faded parchment of available quests on the guild board. As he flipped through them lazily,
his ears caught whispers from a group of higher-
ranked adventurers nearby.
> "Another adventurer was attacked last night, just
outside the church."
"You think it's the Black Acer again?"
"Has to be. That killing method... no doubt."
The group exited the guild hall, their steps hurried
and cautious. Leornars's expression shifted-
subtle, but sharp. A smirk curled the corner of his
lips.
> "Heh... now that's interesting."
Without much thought, he plucked a low-tier
herb-gathering quest from the board. Stacian
sighed but took the slip to the receptionist anyway.
Moments later, they were out of the guild and
heading toward the nearby forested hills.
---
Under the mellow sun, the pair combed the forest
edges, quietly plucking the needed herbs.
"Stacian von Whatsoever," Leornars suddenly said,
brushing dirt from a glowing leaf. "Tell me about
this world. Its foundations. And the power players
holding it up."
The sudden question made her blink, caught off
guard.
"...Alright." She straightened up and began, her
voice clear yet thoughtful.
> "This world is called Miltz Ulria. It's divided into
four main continents.
First, the Demon Continent, the largest. Then,
there's Ultoria, where we are now—home to four
nations: Durmount, Lurtra, Seraphim, and
Stamvolech.
The third is the Ulria Continent—a haven for demi-
humans like elves, dwarves, beastkin, and spirits.
Finally, there's Kultolvia, my homeland. The
continent of legends—the Heavenly Kings, Demon
Lords, and the holy and cursed bloodlines of
Avantalian and Avantris."
Leornars nodded along silently, prompting her to
continue with a look.
---
> "The gods created this world and left its
management to the Monarchs of Concept. These
monarchs then birthed the Heavenly Kings, who
govern balance.
But... demons are the remnants of a fallen Dark
God. Avantalian and Avantris bloodlines descend
from him. My race—the White Demons, or Holy
Demons—trace back to Minum, the Goddess of Life
and Fertility."
A subtle hum escaped Leornars as he processed
the structure of this world.
"And what of the Monarch who was sealed?"
Stacian looked hesitant but answered.
> "One Monarch was sealed over 2,000 years ago...
The others feared his vision. No one knows where
he was hidden."
Leornars's eyes narrowed. That just confirms my
suspicions...
"And blessings? These 'divinities' the gods offer?"
> "Blessings are divine contracts—unique powers
granted by the gods. But abusing them halves your
lifespan. It's a double-edged sword."
---
> "I don't care about the gods," Leornars thought
coldly. "I care about power—mana and skills. The
rest is noise. Strength equals destruction.
Destruction... is freedom."
Suddenly, a rustle came from the bushes behind
them.
In one smooth motion, Leornars flung a dagger.
A thud.
He calmly approached the source. A man lay on the
ground, a knife still in hand—stabbed cleanly near
his shoulder.
"Hmph... off by two inches," Leornars muttered. "I'll
correct it next time."
He knelt, gripping the man's shirt.
"Who are you?"
The man coughed, blood on his lips, and fell to his
knees.
> "Please... save my daughter. I—I don't have
anything to offer, but take all I have. Enslave me if
you must. Just... please..."
Leornars froze. His cold expression flickered.
Memories surfaced—faint, but sharp.
A homeless man. A firelit night. A second chance.
---
Leornars froze. His cold expression flickered.
Memories surfaced—faint, but sharp.
A homeless man. A firelit night. A second chance,
once offered to a boy thrown away.
His grip loosened.
"...Where is she? Who has her?"
The man explained, hurried and broken. Leornars
placed the gathered herbs neatly on the ground.
"Stacian, mend him. I need to have a conversation
with whoever dares to trade slaves in my world."
His irises shifted—red at first, then deepened to
abyssal black. His aura exploded outward, dark and
seething. The air around him warped; the ground
decayed with each step.
Steam hissed between his teeth as his hair swayed
in the darkening air.
> "Ascian. Bellian. Awaken."
The forest echoed with his voice like a roar from
the underworld. Two undead emerged from the
shadows, their hollow eyes locking onto their
master.
> "They'll beg for death before I'm through with
them," Leornars muttered, walking off like
judgment itself.
The man behind collansed in tears. bowing.
---
The man behind collapsed in tears. bowing.
> "Thank you... Thank you..."
---
Meanwhile, in the Kingdom of Durmount
The training fields echoed with the clash of
wooden swords. Sahara Kurnov practiced alone,
sweat dripping from her brow.
"I wonder what happened to Leornars..." she
murmured.
A stern voice interrupted.
> "Never say that name within these castle walls."
It was Princess Selrose, arms crossed.
"Huh? Why?" Sahara asked. "You know him?"
> "Know him?" Selrose scoffed. "He was summoned
like you—a rarity. The king saw his potential and
locked him up.
He escaped. Killed dozens. Then vanished.
Rumor says he was last seen in a nearby town.
When our knights arrived, they found the lord
dead... his daughter slain... and a Holy Demon
missing. Witnesses claimed a white-haired boy
took her."
---
Sahara blinked. "All that in how many days?"
> "Two weeks."
"...TWO WEEKS!?" she shouted.
> "He's considered either our greatest threat... or
our last hope, depending on who you ask."
Sahara stared at her.
"You tried to enslave him," she said flatly.
Selrose laughed bitterly. "Yeah... we're in trouble."
As Sahara looked up at the sky, her hand tightened
on her sword.
> "Leornars... where are you now?"
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