Entry
The hammer struck the anvil.
Awakened from a thousand years of slumber, the Anvil that Births Thunder roared aloud.
It was a wave of mana. The ripple spread through the air, stirring awake the great vassals of Enkidu who had lain dormant for ages.
Open your eyes, and obey.
The feeble tricks of the Orc shamans, which had clouded the senses of the Swamp Mammoths, could not withstand even a heartbeat. Freed from illusion, the Swamp Mammoths bowed to the rightful command.
The first to notice the anomaly was Vandal.
Swinging the iron clubs in both hands, smashing Orc skulls as he went, he suddenly raised his head high. Vandal sensed it. He was no mage nor psychic, but instinct told him plainly.
At this very moment, the tide of battle was turning.
There was no logic, no reasoning. He simply felt it, and acted without hesitation.
"Ara-ra-ra-rai!"
The Ogre's war cry seized the attention of all nearby. Until now, Vandal had stood as a bulwark defending his allies. Now, he became a war chariot. Trampling, kicking, he charged through the Orcs of the Red Lightning Tribe.
"Ara-ra-ra-rai!""Ara-ra-ra-rai!"
His direct subordinates, the Ogre warriors, followed his lead. Their massed charge would surely wreck the Expeditionary Army's formation—but hesitation was not in their nature.
The Red Lightning warriors in the front reeled at the sudden onslaught, but in the rear, Yakuzan watched with a crooked smile. Vandal's charge was mere flash, he judged. With the formation broken, the Expeditionary Army would only suffer heavier losses.
But Yakuzan was wrong.
The Swamp Mammoths, who had been raging against the Expeditionary Army, all at once turned and crushed the Red Lightning Orcs underfoot. Some rolled on the ground deliberately, flattening dozens at once.
Chaos spread like fire. The Red Lightning formation cracked, trapped between foes before and behind.
Vandal struck the gap. The explosive charge of the Ogre warriors cleaved the battlefield in two.
Now even the soldiers felt the change. Chris, drenched in blood, lifted his head. Vandal shouted skyward:
"The prince and princesses have done it!"
That alone was enough. Chris, grasping the truth, bared a devilish grin and surged forward. He commanded his tamed Lycans:
"Break them!"
More than a hundred beasts roared as one. And above the Expeditionary Army, a magical blessing descended.
The Anvil that Births Thunder's army magic.
Through the Swamp Mammoths, the spell was broadcast, filling the Expeditionary Army with strength and courage. The Orcs among them forgot fatigue, pain—even fear.
The Red Lightning Tribe suffered the reverse. Amidst chaos, a curse spread among them, shrinking their spirits. Amplified terror shackled their feet, and the crushing weight of despair lowered their weapons. Their chieftains screamed themselves hoarse to no avail.
A force without order was but a mob. The Red Lightning Tribe, once a storm of violence, collapsed as though it had all been a lie.
"We must flee!"
A high shaman beside Yakuzan shouted desperately. Being a mage, he could read the vast mana flow emanating from the Mammoths. This was no coincidence—this was orchestrated fate.
This battle could not be won. Retreat itself was nearly impossible amid such turmoil; only massacre awaited them.
So they must abandon all. Sacrifice everyone here if need be—only the great chieftain must survive.
"As long as the great chieftain lives, we can rise again!"
Yakuzan understood. He knew it was the wisest choice. Yet he also knew it was impossible.
He turned toward the heart of battle. Through the scattering Orcs, one figure cleaved a path, hacking them down like straw.
"Ya—ku—zan!"
The thunderous roar made the shaman shiver unconsciously. Yakuzan locked eyes with the charging Vandal. More than a hundred warriors still lay between them, but they might as well not have existed.
"This is the end, it seems."
Yakuzan laughed bitterly. He gripped his lifelong companion, the massive black-iron sword that had carried him to the throne of great chieftain of the Red Lightning Tribe.
"Chieftain?" the shaman called. Yakuzan gave no answer.
Instead, with a savage smile, he charged toward the onrushing Vandal.
"It's over."
Ingong spoke with a sigh. Through the Anvil that Births Thunder, he shared the vision of the Swamp Mammoths, and so he knew.
Vandal had slain Yakuzan, the great chieftain of the Red Lightning Tribe. A few other chieftains remained, including Kairam, but none could ever become another Yakuzan.
Yakuzan's death broke the tribe's will. Orcs abandoned the fight, fleeing or surrendering. The Lizardmen, who had only come as mercenaries, had long since vanished without a trace.
Chris, bathed in Orc blood, raised a victorious cry. Ingong laid the hammer back upon the anvil, then looked naturally at the two slumped against it.
"We won."
Felicia sniffled, blood dripping from her nose, but smiled. Caitlin, dazed, rested her cheek against the anvil and murmured faintly,
"We won…"
She seemed to want to shout more passionately, but had no strength. She simply pressed her head down and twitched her shoulders. In truth, she wasn't leaning so much as sprawling over the anvil.
Felicia, in somewhat better shape, wiped her face with her hand and said,
"Shutra, put the Swamp Mammoths to sleep for now."
Only Ingong, controlling the Anvil, could do so. Best to avoid clashes with the Expeditionary Army.
But Ingong didn't lift the hammer again.
"Already did. The last strike carried that command."
"Good. Then we can collapse for a few hours without worry."
"Huh?"
Instead of answering, Felicia glanced toward Caitlin. Her trembling hand tried to reach her shoulder, but lacked the strength, and dropped weakly.
"Too much. I'll just say it. Sleep well."
So saying, Felicia fainted where she sat. Caitlin, too, rolled her eyes toward Ingong, whispering,
"Sorry."
She couldn't even add take care of things before closing her eyes as well.
Nothing to be sorry for.
Ingong didn't answer aloud. Fatigue crashed over him like a wave, making it impossible to keep his eyes open.
Might as well collapse myself.
And then—
[Level up.][Level up.]
"Huh?"
Regardless of his protest, the levels rose. White light engulfed him, restoring all stamina and mana drained by the anvil.
Bonus experience?
In Night Saga, finding relics or achieving feats often granted bonus EXP.
True—I even leveled up just from running early on.
He had subdued the relic of Enkidu, one of the six Elder Dragons, so it made sense.
He'd gained a level from their last defeat, bringing him to 13. And yet—
[Conquest leveled up.]
"What?!"
He hurriedly opened the skill window. It was true.
[Conquest Lv2][Under the King's Banner Lv2][Royal Knights Lv1]
Even Banner rose. Does it strengthen buffs? More targets too?
He longed to test it, but something else drew his eye.
Royal Knights Lv1.
It wasn't a passive like the protagonist-style skills, but an active like Under the King's Banner.
Judging from the name… a summoning skill?
Summon shining knights in armor, perhaps.
After indulging that daydream, Ingong leaned on the anvil with a long sigh. Though his stamina and mana were restored, mental fatigue lingered. It felt like after using Banner.
Subjugate, compel, rule.
The white-haired woman with the golden crown. This time, he hadn't just seen her—he'd shared senses with her.
That must have triggered Conquest's level up.
Who was she? What was this power of Conquest within him?
His head grew heavy again. His eyelids drooped.
It was the limit. He turned slightly toward Karak.
"Karak."
"Prince! You see? We won!" Karak shouted belatedly, watching the battle through the light windows.
So like him, Ingong thought, then slumped by the anvil.
"I'll leave it to you."
And promptly fainted, as if struck by a skill.
"Prince?! Prince!"
Panicked, Karak rushed to him, but Ingong gave no reply. Seira, who had stood silently nearby, approached.
"Warrior Karak, I'll tend to the princesses. You handle the prince and the Dark Elves."
Indeed, Delia and Katouin still lay collapsed. Except for Karak and Seira, the whole party was unconscious.
"Understood."
Karak swiftly obeyed, first lifting Ingong.
The white-haired woman smiled softly.
Her red-and-blue eyes held Ingong as she whispered:
"Knight of Conquest, you are my—"
But her voice did not reach. Her lips moved, then stilled in another quiet smile.
It was not yet time.
Darkness swept in and swallowed her.
"Prince, you awake now?"
Karak's voice was the first thing Ingong heard upon opening his eyes. Like any who had just roused, he groaned and sat up.
"Karak?"
"Here, drink first."
Karak handed him a waterskin. One gulp of cold water revived him somewhat.
"The sisters?"
"Over there."
Karak grinned, jerking his chin rightward. Ingong turned to see Caitlin and Felicia lying side by side upon a spread blanket.
I woke first?
He'd expected Caitlin, the strongest physically, to wake before him.
Ah—level up.
That explained it. Though his mind had been exhausted, his body had slept in peak condition.
Only two hours passed.
He glanced at his mini-map, then back to the two women. Seira, seated beside them, said,
"The princesses seem greatly fatigued. They will need to rest for some time."
"The Dark Elves too," Karak added, pointing at Delia and Katouin, who lay nearby with strained expressions. "But no real danger."
None had died. The mission was complete. All was well.
"You earned decisive merit in victory. Congratulations," Seira said formally. Karak blinked, then echoed,
"Congrats."
"Thanks. It was thanks to Caitlin and Felicia."
He looked at Seira as he spoke, and she smiled faintly at the mention of Caitlin's role.
Ingong added, "And you too, Karak."
"Heh, as long as you know."
Karak grinned his brutish grin warmly. Delia or Katouin would have scowled, but Seira, used to Orcs by now, only smiled faintly. Her voice softened slightly.
"The princesses will need hours more of rest. You too, Prince, should take it easy."
Indeed, Caitlin and Felicia wouldn't wake for at least three or four hours. Ingong nodded.
"Alright, then—wait."
"Yes?"
Instead of answering, Ingong looked around. There was the now-dim Anvil and altar, and beyond them, the door to the front chamber.
This is still a ruin.
And not just any ruin—one tied to Enkidu the Earth Dragon. They had skipped straight to the last chamber, but the truth remained.
Exploring ruins was never easy. Traps and guardians surely awaited.
But what if you're the master of the ruin?
This dungeon had existed from the start to guard the Anvil that Births Thunder—and Ingong now ruled that very anvil.
"Karak, grab the bag and follow me."
"Huh? Prince?"
Blinking in confusion, Karak asked, but Ingong didn't answer. He rose to his feet and stared at the door beyond the altar.
In Night Saga, the discovery of ruins was never meant for private gain.
One reported useful ruins to the Demon King's Castle, earned merit, and received an appropriate reward.
For the Demon King's children, merit was paramount. That system existed for their sake.
Of course, sometimes privatizing ruins was more profitable, depending on their type and nature. But the privatization of ruins carried enormous risk. If caught by the Demon King's Castle, not only would much of one's accumulated merit be erased, but one could also face fines or imprisonment.
Got a game over from that once, too.
Even so, the Castle wasn't completely merciless. To demand that the discoverer of a ruin hand over everything without keeping a thing would be too cruel.
Normally, when ruins with relics were found, the discoverer was allowed to officially claim a portion of relics, proportional to the ruin's scale.
And unofficially, you could sneak a bit more.
Hiding an entire ruin was far harder than hiding a few relics.
The discovery of the Anvil that Births Thunder was undeniably a monumental achievement. With three of the Demon King's children involved, the merit would be split, but even the divided portion was certain to be substantial.
But that was all. The Anvil could not be privatized.
It was one with the dungeon. Removed and placed elsewhere, it would never function the way it did here.
Shame, but nothing I can do.
That truth Ingong had learned precisely because he had conquered the anvil. The Anvil ran not only on Enkidu's lingering mana, but also on the massive leyline flowing beneath the dungeon. The dwarven Treasure Keepers hadn't abandoned it without reason.
But I can't walk away empty-handed, can I?
Sorry as it was to Caitlin and Felicia, with them asleep now was the perfect chance to collect relics.
The useful ones go into my inventory. The flashy junk for show goes into Karak's bag.
No evidence left behind, and the alibi was flawless.
Sorry, he thought, offering a silent apology to the sleeping Caitlin and Felicia, then entered the first chamber—the penultimate room under normal circumstances—with Karak.
This second room was far larger than the anvil chamber, with a ceiling nearly ten meters high.
"Wow, what a monster!"
Karak exclaimed like a child, pointing to the black giant in the center.
Ingong nearly gasped.
Good god, that's an Arc Golem! And in griffon form, no less!
A griffon—eagle's head, lion's body, wings spread. Before him stood such a creature clad head to claw in black armor.
Ingong's eyes hadn't deceived him: this was indeed an Arc Golem, a top-tier dungeon guardian.
If we'd tried to storm in head-on, we might have been blocked here.
Back during the Lycanthrope Subjugation, Caitlin could have smashed it with one blow. But Caitlin in her current state would have struggled.
Felicia's not really a battle mage either.
She was undeniably skilled, but her magic had mostly been supportive—enhancing allies, reshaping terrain—not raw combat power.
Karak, eyeing the statue-still Arc Golem, asked nervously,
"Prince, that thing's not gonna move, right? It's not suddenly gonna jump up and attack us?"
"It's fine. You and I are recognized as part of the dungeon."
With the Anvil's acknowledgement, they would appear as Treasure Keepers to the golem.
Instead of the golem, Ingong scanned the chamber.
"We need to find an armory or storeroom. This place is basically a fortress, so a treasury is unlikely."
Such storage was likely connected to this chamber or the one before it—being the safest place.
Karak nodded. "Makes sense. That anvil back there's the real treasure."
The entire dungeon existed to guard the Anvil, after all. As always, Karak understood quickly.
Seeing no passageways here, Ingong moved to the next chamber. This one was lined with many doors.
Guess the demons remodeled things after claiming the place.
It was quite different from the dungeon he remembered while playing as Locke.
Back then, I just smashed everything anyway.
After destroying the Anvil, he'd even collapsed the mountain, burying the dungeon.
"Karak, I'll check the doors on this side. You take the other."
"Got i—ooh! Look at this!"
No sooner had Ingong spoken than Karak, opening the nearest door, cried out. Ingong hurried over to see a room full of weapons and armor.
Maybe Karak's the protagonist, not me.
Snickering, Ingong entered the armory with him. The piece that had Karak enthralled was a massive suit of armor in the center.
"Prince, isn't this amazing? And it looks tough as hell!"
Even panting with excitement, Karak wasn't wrong. Ingong also found it impressive. A dragon's head adorned the chestplate, dragon-wing motifs decorated the shoulders, and faint mana radiated from it.
Armor for the Orc mercenaries, maybe?
It clearly wasn't dwarf-sized. At minimum, someone Karak's size would be needed to wear it.
Mass-produced, maybe…
But even a mass product from Enkidu's Treasure Keepers was leagues above Karak's current partial plate.
Examining it with the Anvil's authority, Ingong confirmed it carried no curse or harmful enchantments.
"Karak, want it?"
Karak's eyes went wide. He stammered, nearly speechless, before blurting,
"R-really? You mean it?!"
"Yeah. It's too big for me anyway."
Besides, Karak was his first underling. Strengthening Karak meant strengthening himself.
"Thank you! Thank you, Prince!"
Overjoyed, Karak began unstrapping his gear to try it on immediately. Watching fondly, Ingong turned his attention elsewhere.
Strangely, parts of the armory were sparse. It seemed the dwarves had taken dwarf-sized gear when they left.
Well, wouldn't have fit me anyway.
With that positive thought, Ingong began sweeping items into his inventory. The dwarves' departure offered a perfect excuse—no reason to hesitate.
I'll find use for these one day.
After all, the dwarf swords had just been crucial in activating the Anvil. Whether he used them, gave them to subordinates, or sold them, they were better had than not.
He piled in swords, shields, axes from shelves, then opened the chests on the floor. Most were empty, but some held visibly ancient gold coins.
Ancient currency?
Gold aside, their antique value was considerable. Without overthinking, Ingong dutifully filled his inventory.
After about ten minutes, having checked all the chests, a strong sense of dissonance struck him.
What is this feeling?
He had searched every shelf and chest, yet still felt he'd missed something.
What? What had he overlooked?
Can't ignore this.
His gaze fell on a central chest. Not for any obvious reason—just instinct. An undeniable pull.
He reached in and groped around. His hand found a catch.
Wait, a secret mechanism?
Click. He activated it, swallowing hard.
Yes—this is it. Protagonist's luck!
With a mechanical whir, the wall behind the chests slid open. A hidden vault for the true treasures.
"Prince?"
Startled by the noise, Karak approached, half-armored. But Ingong couldn't look away. His entire focus was fixed on the steel gauntlet hovering in the secret chamber.
"Enkidu's Gauntlet… Earthquaker."
The name echoed in his mind the instant he saw it.
The gauntlet reached up to the forearm, patterned after Enkidu. Black steel plates resembled dragon scales; the forearm was sculpted like a dragon's head.
"Wow… it looks incredible," Karak muttered in awe.
Ingong drew a deep breath and reached out.
[Level insufficient.][Mana insufficient.][Willpower insufficient.][Strength insufficient.][Endurance insufficient.]
Countless messages filled his mind at the touch. It was a relic far beyond his current ability.
But—
[Earthquaker recognizes you as its master.][Earthquaker's user set to 'Shutra.']
Earthquaker acknowledged him—the one who had conquered the Anvil—as its owner.
Yellow light like flowing magma glowed between its plates. The gauntlet shattered, then instantly reformed around Ingong's right arm. Automatic equip.
"You see that? It accepted you as master!"
[Strength +10][Mana +10][Endurance +10]
Part of Earthquaker's power activated. Clenching his fist, Ingong shivered at the strength surging through him.
Just wait. I'll grind until I can handle all of you.
At full capacity, it was surely an S-rank weapon. Like the Anvil, Enkidu's mana pulsed within.
A weapon that requires permission.
Now he understood why the dwarves had left Earthquaker behind. Without conquering the Anvil, he'd never have claimed it.
Exhaling, he dismissed the gauntlet and stored it in his inventory. Turning to Karak, he said,
"Karak, I need a word."
"You want me to keep your… mysterious magic for collecting stuff a secret, yeah?" Karak grinned knowingly. The genius Orc had clearly pieced things together from their journey. Ingong nodded gladly.
"Exactly. Don't tell the sisters either."
"Got it. Between you and me. Won't spill unless a blade's at my throat."
Risky, but realistic—and thus trustworthy.
Come to think of it…
Talking with Karak reminded him of something he'd forgotten.
Royal Knights.
The skill that appeared when Conquest leveled up.
What kind of skill was it? A summoning, as he guessed?
Only one way to know.
He stepped back, had Karak do the same, and reached into the air.
"Royal Knights."
At his command, the new power of Conquest flared.
[Royal Knights Lv1][Creating order of knights. Please wait…]
The moment the skill activated, a clear woman's voice rang in Ingong's head. He blinked in surprise.
Huh? "Create Order of Knights"? Is this like creating a guild?
While he was thinking, the order seemed to be complete (?), and a new window of light unfolded before his eyes.
[Royal Knights Lv1][Knight Commander: – ][Total Members: 0 / 2][Order Skill Lv1][Order's Blessing Lv1: Knights' HP +5%][Knight Training][ – ][Special Skill][Summon Lv1: Can summon the Knight Commander. (Limit: once every 3 days)]
Ooooh?
It resembled a guild system from an online game—but far better.
The real prize isn't the order skill.
A flat 5% increase to members' HP was good enough already. And that was just level 1; higher levels would surely enhance the effect, maybe even add entirely new abilities.
But what really seized Ingong's focus were the options below the order skill.
Knight Training.
Though no explanation was written, he knew instantly.
Train the knights. Make them stronger!
And Summon's incredible, too.
Once every three days, and only the commander, but still invaluable.
Maybe leveling it up will add uses—or let me summon regular members, too.
Excited, Ingong let his imagination run wild, muttering in admiration. Beside him, Karak—who couldn't see the glowing window—looked at him as though at a lunatic, the first in a long while.
Catching the unwholesome gleam in his underling's eyes, Ingong coughed loudly to cover his grin, then faced Karak.
"Karak, I've got a proposal for you."
"What's that, Prince?"
Blinking his large eyes, Karak asked. Feeling oddly embarrassed, Ingong coughed again and said,
"How about you stick with me? Stay by my side from here on."
"You mean… become a direct subordinate? Like those women, Seira and Delia?"
"That's right. I asked Chris—he said as long as you agree, it's possible."
Chris had actually said Ingong could just force it if he wanted; with his accomplishments, appointing a direct subordinate or two was his right. But Ingong wanted to respect Karak's choice. After all, they'd be together for the long haul.
Still… he won't refuse, right?
Watching nervously, Ingong saw Karak scratch his chin with a bored look—then grin.
"Well, sure. I like you, Prince."
Thank god. Ingong broke into a broad smile.
"Good. Then kneel here. There's a simple ceremony we need to do."
To fully use the Royal Knights skill, he had to perform a "knighting." Just as with the Anvil, the procedure came naturally into his mind.
Karak obediently knelt before him. Ingong steadied his breath, then drew a dwarf-forged sword from his inventory.
"Uh, Prince, you planning to rebel or something?"
Seeing the sudden blade, Karak leaned back warily. Ingong clicked his tongue.
"Relax. It's just the ceremony for knighting. Nothing to fear—just hold still."
"…Alright, I'll trust you."
And Karak truly stilled like a lamb. Even kneeling, his eye level was nearly Ingong's, but Ingong raised the sword and touched each of his shoulders in turn.
"Mighty Orc warrior Karak, I hereby name you my knight."
Simple words—but the effect was undeniable. At once, a flood of white light engulfed Karak.
"Ooooh?"
Different from Under the King's Banner. Brighter, denser, far more vivid.
[Royal Knights Lv1][Knight Commander: Karak][Total Members: 1 / 2][Member Info][Karak Lv24 (Rank: Soldier)][Knight Training][Karak Lv24 (Rank: Soldier)]
As the sole member, he was immediately assigned as commander. Smiling in satisfaction, Ingong opened the training tab.
So merit substitutes for EXP?
He could spend merit to boost stats or grant new skills. A king's reward, indeed.
Reading down the list, Ingong clenched his fist in excitement. Now he understood why Karak's entry bore the title "Soldier."
Promotion!
On reaching certain levels, a knight's rank could rise. Like a pawn's promotion in chess—or a class-up in games.
Good. Very good.
The strongest Orc in Night Saga had been the Orc Emperor, ruler of all Orcs. Maybe it was premature, but already Ingong pictured Karak standing shoulder to shoulder with him.
"Uh, Prince? We done here?"
Karak's voice pulled him back. Ingong quickly closed all the windows and nodded.
"Yeah, for now."
"Hmm. Feels weird. Like… my loyalty to you just got stronger."
"That's great, then."
Indeed—nothing bad about it.
I want more members. A female knight or two would be nice…
He thought briefly of Caitlin, but shook his head. Even Seira or Delia would be plenty.
Though what I really want are Vandal and Nayatra…
His subordinates when he played Zephyr. Impossible for now, but someday he'd reclaim them.
Yes. Someday.
Resolving himself, Ingong helped Karak up. Thanks to finding the armory so quickly, they'd already looted well, yet plenty of time remained before Caitlin and Felicia awoke. For now, exploring the dungeon came first.
"Let's check the next chamber."
Karak followed loyally without a word.
Perhaps because they'd found such riches early, the other rooms held little of note. And since Ingong wanted to leave some spoils for Caitlin and Felicia, in the end he took only the armory's weapons, Earthquaker, and a few dwarf ale casks.
After a thousand years, they must be priceless—assuming they haven't spoiled.
When they returned, Seira, tending to Caitlin and Felicia, leapt to her feet.
"You are back? I was worried."
"Oh, thanks. Nothing happened."
Her concern was unexpected, but the kindness of a beauty was always welcome.
Wait—her worry feels… different.
Her eyes had already shifted to Karak's new dwarf armor. Watching her, Ingong realized.
Ah, right.
As Caitlin's retainer, Seira naturally considered the relics partly Caitlin's share.
If I take too much, Caitlin's portion disappears.
A bit annoying, but also reassuring—Seira's loyalty to Caitlin was genuine.
Wish Karak were like that, too.
Touching Karak's nearly empty bag, Ingong said lightly,
"There wasn't much. And with the princesses here, I wasn't sure I should take anything first. So I only grabbed this armor and a few odds and ends."
"You discovered an armory?"
Seira's face brightened. Ingong chuckled and nodded.
"Yeah, lots of stuff."
Conscience pricked him—he hadn't taken everything. He'd left roughly thirty percent behind.
Still feel a bit guilty…
But now was the time for shamelessness. He tapped Karak's armored chest.
"This one I claimed as my official share. I'm giving it to Karak."
"To Karak, my lord?"
"Yeah. He's my first underling."
Seira glanced at Karak with a faint look of envy. Karak only grinned back.
"Anyway… how are the princesses?"
"They are only drained. With more rest, they'll recover. Best we spend the night here and rejoin the army at dawn."
The Red Lightning Tribe was shattered. No fugitives would track them here. Safe enough.
"Good. No need to push after a victory."
Chris might worry, but he'd endure.
He already knows we succeeded.
A day or two's delay was nothing.
"Then I'll prepare camp, Prince," Karak said, shedding the heavy armor. Ingong simply nodded.
The next morning, Caitlin and Felicia awoke—and, as Ingong expected, let Karak's armor pass without objection.
Neither seemed greedy for relics. Caitlin felt her contribution unworthy—still stung by failing to break the cliff passage. Felicia's interests lay elsewhere.
"Shame there weren't more relics, but we got plenty else. The Anvil, that Arc Golem—this is a massive discovery!"
Her eyes shone brightly, like Caitlin's often did.
No worries there.
Her boundless energy left Ingong only Caitlin to fret over.
"How's your body?"
"Better after a nap. You?"
"Same."
Exchanging warm words, they mounted the Phantom Steed Felicia had summoned. She clearly wanted to continue exploring, but sense held her back—she only cast wistful glances.
At Chris and Vandal's camp, the reversal of battle had sparked joy. Hearing of Ingong's approach, Chris rushed out, arms wide.
"Oh! My lucky charms!"
Before they'd even dismounted, Chris had swept Caitlin into a bear hug, then crushed Ingong in turn.
Gah!
With his sheer size and strength, the hug bordered on torture, but it was oddly pleasant. Releasing him, Chris nearly grabbed Felicia, but stopped short.
"A splendid feat, sister."
Lowering his arms awkwardly, he offered greeting. Felicia, bracing for a hug, flinched—then forced a proud smile.
"Well, it was me, after all."
Chin tilted high, pure princess. But she added, more quietly:
"Shutra and Caitlin helped a lot."
Her ears flushed red. Ingong only smiled politely, while Caitlin beamed at them all.
"The princes and princesses get along well. Good to see," Vandal rumbled. Felicia turned away, Chris grinned wryly, and said to Ingong and Caitlin,
"Rest well. I'll handle the trifles."
"'Trifles'? You mean mopping up the Red Lightning remnants?"
In games, defeating enemies was the end. But in reality, stragglers like Kairam remained.
Chris shook his head.
"That, yes. But also the swamp beasts. We'll have to negotiate with the Lizardmen."
They had sided with the tribe against the Demon King's army—an offense not to be ignored.
"It'll be settled in two weeks at most. As for the remnants, a garrison will remain here."
At "garrison," he glanced toward Vandal, then asked Felicia,
"And you, sister? What will you do?"
Without hesitation, she answered,
"Follow, of course. I've reports to make—about the Anvil, the battle, everything."
"For Caitlin and me, too, it'll be a long-awaited return."
Now Ingong understood.
They had completed their mission, crushed the Red Lightning Tribe, and earned glory. Only one task remained.
Return to the Demon King's Castle to report and be judged.
With Chris handling negotiations with the Lizardmen, Ingong, for the first time since arriving in this world, had free time.
Perfect chance for some grinding.
He had nothing else urgent, and survival meant one thing—becoming stronger.
Ingong was practical.
Thrown into a world that was a game—or like a game—what mattered most?
Why he was here? Who summoned him? Why the world resembled a game?
Wrong.
What mattered most was survival.
Dead, none of those questions could be answered. First live, then investigate.
Luckily, the path to survival was simple.
Grow stronger.
Strength meant survival. Strength meant value, and value meant standing. And standing meant opportunities.
He had earned his merit against the Red Lightning Tribe only because he'd grown strong enough to do so.
And he had means to grow stronger. Beyond that, he wanted to.
Time for a plan.
Until now, he had grown haphazardly. He had many tricks, but they were scattered, unfocused.
The core is Aura and Beast Fist.
He had chosen the path of martial artist. Not only for the S-rank technique, Beast God Fist, but also because of Earthquaker. S-rank technique and S-rank weapon together—destiny itself.
Telekinesis stays as a trump card and support skill.
For now, telekinesis was too weak to be useful in battle, but Ingong already had a clear image of how to employ it. He didn't plan to use it for direct attacks, but for other purposes.
Magic is a bit disappointing, but I'll keep it strictly as support.
In terms of sheer number, he had learned more spells than anything else—but they were all stuck at level 1.
But if I go down the path of a martial artist who can also cast spells, even low-level magic will be enough.
A few healing spells, a few buffs. Sometimes a surprise strike with magic.
That would suffice. Even if he was the protagonist, early on it was best to concentrate his efforts in one field.
Next is Earthquaker.
Glancing around to ensure no one was in the tent, Ingong opened his inventory. At the very top of dozens of weapons sat Earthquaker.
It must have an ultimate technique built in.
S-rank weapons always had their own unique ultimate move.
The Hero's Sword, wielded by the warrior Locke, carried the ultimate "Hero's Sword," unleashing an immense wave of Aura blades. When he played as Zephyr, his favorite weapons Dragon Slayer and Dáinsleif had "Dragon Strike" and "Curse of Death" embedded within them.
He'd never acquired Earthquaker in Night Saga, so he didn't know its ultimate move—but if it followed the pattern, it surely contained something worthy of the title.
Once I learn the skill to control ultimates… and raise my level and stats high enough, I'll find out.
Nodding to himself, Ingong closed the inventory window and exhaled. Normally he would have begun training immediately, but today he had one more thing to consider.
We're going back to the Demon King's Castle.
The fight against the Red Lightning Tribe had been simple—just battle them head-on. No negotiations, no compromise.
But the fights in the Castle would be different.
First of all, there are three factions.
He set a water cup, a dagger, and a kettle on the table before him.
The water cup was the 1st Prince, Baikal Ragnaros.The dagger was the 2nd Prince, Zephyr Ragnaros—his worst enemy.The kettle was the 4th Princess, Anastasia Necrion.
Though Baikal and Zephyr were full brothers, they each led their own faction. In a historical drama it would have been a classic struggle of legitimate heir versus talented younger brother, but Night Saga worked differently.
In the struggle for succession, birth order meant nothing. The one with the most merit and ability always stood on top.
Both Baikal and Zephyr were highly capable. And both had immensely powerful maternal clans backing them—so powerful that they could match or surpass the other royal mothers' families.
The Dragonbloods. The Draconians, said to carry the veins of the mighty Dragon race itself. Commanders of countless sub-dragon species, the Draconians were the strongest of the five maternal families.
Between the two, Baikal's the better choice.
Baikal was the dove, Zephyr the hawk. Perhaps because he was eldest, Baikal tried to treat the other royal children as siblings rather than enemies. Even when Ingong played as Zephyr, Baikal often invited the other princes and princesses to tea parties and balls.
Baikal remained relatively safe until the Lycanthrope Subjugation of Year 516. After that day, Zephyr fully revealed his demonic nature, sibling bonds crumbled, and Baikal was forced to take up arms—but until then, he had held to moderation.
If only the Draconians weren't mortal enemies of the Gandharvas.
The Gandharvas, Shuetra's maternal line, were the weakest of all. Their conflict with the Draconians was one reason. Already a small race, they had been reduced to less than half their numbers. They were enemies unto death.
As for Zephyr—I'll stay as far away as possible.
No good could come of closeness. He had gathered the second-largest number of royal bastards under him, but only until the Day of Massacre. After that, not a single child of the Demon King under his command survived.
And Anastasia… I'm not sure. Best to keep some distance.
4th Princess Anastasia Necrion.
Her mother, the 2nd Queen Titania Necrion, was the Queen of Succubi. Contrary to common image, succubi were enormously strong, tied as they were to humanity's primal desires of sex and sleep.
Anastasia had inherited the innate talent of the Enslaver, a natural temptress. She commanded the most royal bastards of all. In Night Saga, at some point both Felicia and Silvan were confirmed as members of her faction.
If I want to pull Felicia and Silvan to my side, there'll be friction.
No—Anastasia would surely try to snatch him from Chris's camp as well.
I'll have to keep my guard up.
A succubus—an Enslaver. If she deliberately deployed her charms, could he resist?
Next, the royal bastards.
Beyond the five queens, the Demon King had over ten concubines. Like the Goryeo king Wang Geon of old, it was to solidify rule. But it was almost as if he had gone out of his way to make each one a different race.
The bastards numbered around twenty. Unlike the children of the queens, they had no right of succession. They usually served as generals or administrators under the princes and princesses.
Faces and names surfaced in Ingong's memory—bastards who had once served under Zephyr in his playthroughs. Some had genuinely admired him, others he had personally liked. All of them discarded like dogs once their use was done. A forced event, unpreventable, one that had made him curse aloud every playthrough.
Daphne, the Dryad druid.Sylas, the Vampire blood knight.Celine, the High Elf great archer.
I'll save as many as I can.
Of course, right now Shuetra had no standing. They'd just spit in his face. He'd need more merit first.
This trip will be more reconnaissance than anything.
And in truth, he was anxious about Shuetra's current state. He had no idea how Shuetra lived at the Castle at this point.
Did he have attendants, maids? Did anyone take care of him at all?
In a sense, this is Shuetra's debut at the Demon King's Castle.
With the merit he'd earned, his treatment would surely improve. The other royals would have to reassess him.
It's fine. I'm not alone.
Chris and Caitlin were reliable allies, and Felicia, by her nature, would likely support him too.
Alright, time to grind.
Shaking off his tangled thoughts, Ingong stretched his arms and legs, then drew a deep breath. He began serious training in Beast Fist.
Next morning.
Before departing, Felicia went with her Dark Elves to survey the ruins. Chris led his men into the swamp to parley with the Lizardmen.
That left only Vandal, Ingong, and Caitlin in the camp.
Early, Caitlin came to his tent.
"Training starts today. Are you ready?"
She was serious, clad in a thick training robe unlike her usual garb.
"Anytime," Ingong replied with confidence.
Karak, looming beside him, leaned toward Caitlin.
"Push him hard, Lady Caitlin. Keep him from fooling around at night. He's still growing, and he stays up every night. Worries me."
It sounded less like a knight's concern than a nanny's. Ingong panicked—"fooling around at night"? If Caitlin misunderstood…
But there was no need to worry. Caitlin just shot him a teasing glance, then nodded to Karak.
"Don't worry. From today, he'll be sleeping soundly."
Her expression seemed to add, even if I have to force him.
And she wasn't bluffing. The training she unleashed made everything before feel like child's play. Exhausted, Ingong couldn't manage a single night of extra practice for ten days straight.
On the eleventh day—
[Beast Fist has leveled up.][Aura has leveled up.]
Beast Fist Lv.5. Aura Lv.5.
As the clear voice rang in his head, Caitlin's eyes sharpened. She studied him up and down, then chuckled lightly.
"You really learn fast. At this rate…"
She trailed off, glanced around, then whispered in his ear,
"You're ready to begin Beast God Fist."
It was still a secret, after all.
Ingong's face lit up. "Really?"
"Yes. You've reached the minimum. Honestly, I'm shocked—I've never seen anyone learn so fast."
He hadn't been able to start Beast God Fist before, but ten days' training had met the requirements.
Viva, protagonist's privilege.
Of course, he'd also invested skill points into Aura. Without that, even he couldn't have qualified so quickly.
Caitlin checked the surroundings once more, then said quietly,
"Beast God Fist is the evolution of Beast Fist. I'll teach you a new way to wield Aura."
Sitting opposite him, she extended her hands. Familiar with the ritual, Ingong interlocked fingers with hers.
"Let's begin."
Closing her eyes, Caitlin summoned a deep blue Aura. From the depths of his body, Ingong's white Aura rose, circulating along the path she set.
At first, it was like Beast Fist.
Then it changed, and he felt the depth.
Aura.
The power of life. At its ultimate, equal to the power of the soul.
Ingong hadn't reached its end, but he glimpsed it.
Conquest.
The violent power to subjugate, to dominate utterly.
That gave him a taste, however faint, of true Aura. For the first time, he felt he was touching it.
One minute, two minutes—or perhaps hours, days.
Lost in it so deeply he forgot time, Ingong finally opened his eyes.
Caitlin's face was before him, calm in meditation.
[You have learned Beast God Fist Lv1.][Beast Fist has leveled up.][Aura has leveled up.]
His understanding of Aura itself had deepened. He had broken through a wall.
And one last result.
[You have leveled up.]
A white radiance engulfed him.
Level up.
Ingong was now Level 14. Compared to a mere villager, his stats had soared.
But what thrilled him most was Aura.
I've been wrong all along.
He had thought that as his Aura level rose, he was finally seeing things clearly. But looking back now, he realized it was nothing more than the thinking of a frog at the bottom of a well.
And this will probably keep happening, won't it?
There would always be another mountain beyond the mountain. Yet instead of frustration, he felt exhilarated. His heart pounded, eager to see what realms lay ahead.
Caitlin.
Calming both his Aura and his excitement, Ingong looked at Caitlin seated before him. Through their still-interlocked hands, he could feel her Aura. And so he knew—
She had broken through the wall as well. Whether it was his influence on her or hers on him, both had grown. That much was certain.
As he gazed, Caitlin suddenly let out a deep breath. Wrapped in dark-blue Aura, she slowly opened her eyes, a graceful smile upon her lips.
"Thank you, Shutra. It's thanks to you."
While guiding his Aura, she had gained enlightenment herself. After years of repeating the same training, she had discovered a new and unfamiliar path within Beast God Fist.
With deeper understanding of Aura than Ingong, Caitlin could tell—while lost in trance, their Auras had harmonized, each guiding the other as if they were two, yet one.
A pleasant surprise.
And not only for them.
"Interesting."
The sudden voice startled them both. They turned, and there sat a man who made even the spacious training tent feel cramped in an instant.
"General Vandal?!"
Ingong blurted, startled. Vandal stroked his chin, eyes narrowing.
"Many were worried. The 8th Princess and the 9th Prince have neither eaten nor slept for days. Especially the princess's lieutenant."
"Days?" Ingong stammered. Caitlin, alarmed, glanced around as though to confirm the time.
Then another voice joined in.
"Matchless. Seira was real worried."
Karak was sitting beside Vandal. Even with his bulk, next to Vandal he seemed small, his presence diminished.
Ingong hurriedly asked, "Karak, how many days has it been?"
"Uh… it's just before dawn now, so… about four days? Come to think of it, aren't you hungry?" Karak rubbed his belly.
At the word, Ingong suddenly felt a wave of hunger. Caitlin, cheeks faintly red, stayed quiet—but clearly she felt the same.
Four days? We've been like that for four whole days?
Time had blurred—felt like a moment, or like years.
So that's what trance is…
It was a strangely refreshing sensation.
Anyway, first things first.
"I'm starving. Bring us something to eat. For Caitlin too."
Glancing at her, he caught the faint curl of her lips—she was hungry indeed.
Then Vandal, momentarily forgotten, spoke again.
"Why not eat together? I'm hungry as well."
"I'll fetch food then," Karak said, rising swiftly.
Vandal continued, "Both of you have grown stronger. It's no exaggeration to say you've crossed a wall. Congratulations."
As one of the strongest among the Blood Ogres, Vandal was also a master of Aura. His genuine praise drew a soft smile from Caitlin.
"Thank you, Vandal."
"The 9th Prince and the 8th Princess—both of you show great promise."
Their growth was dazzlingly swift. Especially Ingong's—worthy of admiration.
Ingong also caught the flicker in Vandal's eyes. Not only admiration, but competitive spirit. That was Vandal through and through.
He must have seen my level-up effect… Did he just think it was an Aura effect?
Since Vandal hadn't pressed the matter, it seemed he hadn't thought much of it.
"Food's here!"
Right on cue, Karak reappeared, carrying two large baskets of food. And behind him, Seira had also come, both hands laden with baskets.
Perhaps from fasting for four days—or from their breakthrough—once they began eating, they couldn't stop. Caitlin at first seemed shy, but with Vandal and Karak devouring food at such ferocity, she soon ate freely herself.
Less than half an hour later, all baskets were empty. Faces full and satisfied, they sat together.
"Since you both look well, I'll take my leave. Until next time," Vandal said, rising.
Caitlin, more relaxed now, added, "In a day or two, my brother will return. Unfortunately, this is as far as our special training goes. Better to spend the rest of the time reviewing what you've learned."
Even Seira could not know about Beast God Fist, so Caitlin lowered her voice further.
"I'll make more time later."
True to herself, she never said the name outright. Ingong nodded gratefully.
"Got it. Thanks."
Whatever political deal with Chris had started this, Caitlin had given him far more than he'd bargained for—especially her kindness.
I'm glad I met Caitlin and Chris first.
Otherwise, things might have gone as they did in Night Saga, with him throwing them to their deaths.
Speaking of which…
A thought came to him. He looked at Caitlin's warm gaze and asked cautiously,
"Uh, Caitlin… Can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"If it's uncomfortable, you don't have to answer."
"Just say it."
She was curious now. Karak munched fruit indifferently, but Seira began watching Ingong warily.
Awkwardly smiling, he asked, "What's with Chris and Felicia? They don't seem hostile, but there's some distance. Did something happen between them?"
From what he'd seen, they weren't openly antagonistic. Chris still called her "sister"—maybe mockingly, maybe not. Felicia seemed wary, but not hateful.
Felicia was someone he had to recruit eventually. If her relationship with Chris stayed strained, that would be a problem.
"Hmm… It's not really between Chris and Felicia. More like between Chris and Silvan. I don't know the details."
Her voice grew heavier as she spoke—clearly a long-standing source of trouble. But she brightened with a smile.
"Still, it's better now. You've gotten close to Felicia during this campaign, and Chris and she seem to get along better too."
Ingong agreed. Since the day of defeat against the Red Lightning Tribe, the two had actually grown closer.
Caitlin sighed softly, fiddling with her fingers.
"I'd like to be close with my other brothers and sisters too… but Father and Mother don't like me going to the Castle. This trip is my first in a long time."
Her mother, the 4th Queen Elaine Moonlight, he could understand. But Chris too? That hinted at something deeper.
Does Chris know? That Caitlin isn't the Demon King's child?
As the de facto king of the Lycans, Chris might well know the truth. Elaine may have told him, to keep Caitlin safe.
"I should go. You rest too, Shutra."
She rose. Ingong stood with her.
"Yeah. Thanks for everything these past days."
Though it had felt like only a minute, days had passed.
"See you," Karak said. Seira exchanged a glance with him; having been forced to spend so much time together, the two had grown closer too.
When Caitlin and Seira left, Ingong finally felt at ease and lay back. Karak shook his head, cleaning the baskets.
"At least use a bed. And wash, while you're at it."
"Yeah, thanks for… whatever you've been doing."
"Mostly just resting. And watching you, Prince."
Grinning, Karak left. Ingong ignored the scolding, closed his eyes, and sank into deep sleep.
Chris returned the next afternoon, right after Ingong's special training with Caitlin had ended. Judging by his bright face, negotiations with the Lizardmen had gone well.
Felicia came back that evening, still looking regretful about leaving the ruins, but schedules couldn't be delayed.
"The princes and princesses all performed impressively," Vandal said the next morning, seeing them off.
Chris gave a princely farewell, Felicia feigned regal aloofness, and Caitlin smiled openly.
At last Vandal faced Ingong, towering above him, and extended a finger.
"I look forward to seeing you again, 9th Prince."
"So do I, Vandal."
Ingong clasped the offered finger. Brief words, but meaningful.
Someday, definitely.
Vandal expected him to grow stronger. Ingong would answer that expectation—becoming strong enough to claim Vandal as his own.
Resolute, he nodded firmly. Felicia, watching, smiled wryly.
"What?" Ingong asked.
"Nothing. It just looked like a boy bonding with a wild beast."
She laughed, then summoned Phantom Steeds for their journey.
The return to the Demon King's Castle was simple.
Ride Felicia's Phantom Steeds to a teleportation circle, then return by transfer magic.
Such circles, capable of long-distance space leaps, were scattered throughout the Demon Realm.
The Night Saga setting materials even claimed they were the very reason the Demon King's Castle could dominate the realm. Ingong found it plausible.
The nearest circle was two days' ride by Phantom Steed. Flying the shortest route meant sleeping under the stars, but instead of hardship, it felt like camping together.
If everyone grows closer during this, all the better.
Chris and Felicia were still ambiguous, but he was sure Felicia and Caitlin had grown closer.
On the third day, they reached the tower housing the circle.
Though two days north, it was still a frontier post. The tower was small, sparsely staffed.
The sudden arrival of four royal children sent the caretaker into a panic. Chris ignored him and went about his business, Felicia even took it upon herself to operate the circle.
Both of them look oddly excited.
Chris seemed a bit subtle, but Felicia was obvious. At first she'd resisted going home—now she could hardly wait.
Thanks to the two, they spent less than twenty minutes at the tower. By the time Ingong realized it, the circle was already active.
As the chamber flooded with blue light, he instinctively shut his eyes. Unlike the dwarf portal, this time he clearly felt the shift—like riding a rollercoaster.
When he opened them, the scene was completely different.
Everything was larger. The chamber, the circle itself, the decorations—far grander, more ornate.
And most of all, the number of people gathered before the circle.
"Lady Felicia!""Welcome back, Princess!""You are as radiant as ever, Lady Felicia!"
Boys and girls in their teens and twenties swarmed her like fans around an idol.
"Hmph, coming out to greet me?" Felicia sniffed, trying for dignity—but her ears were red, her lips curved in a loose smile.
Her bastards and their followers?
It looked that way. Three or four were likely bastards, the rest their subordinates.
"Prince Chris.""Lady Caitlin, it's been long."
Though fewer, some also greeted Chris and Caitlin.
What about me?
Left out, Ingong looked at those still waiting outside the circle. Most ignored him. A few smirked nastily.
Well, that's clear enough.
He now understood Shuetra's standing—how he was regarded among the bastards.
Fine. I'll change it, one step at a time.
Drawing a deep breath, Ingong straightened his back.
Home, battlefield, and ground of destiny.
He had arrived at the Demon King's Castle.