The Successor of the Underworld is a Cheat Player

The Successor To The Underworld Is A Cheat Player 60

“I had to visit my hometown, and the militia there were training with those eyes and techniques.”

The candidates were naturally picking up on that.

The exchange with Dante.

It was a matter of interest for all of Rasiel’s people.

Though under different leaders, ultimately, they were the three rival organizations that had to compete.

Given the long-standing rivalry between Dante and Rasiel.

“…Really.”

However, their expectations weren’t too high.

Because they knew their candidates.

Because they had heard rumors about Dante.

They had put aside all expectations and patiently awaited that day.

“You know… Can we really…”

To be able to accept the outcome calmly if Rasiel’s candidates were to lose.

“Can we win?”

But upon seeing that sight, hidden emotions surfaced.

“Are we really going to win?”

It’s possible.

Such hope.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

It was making the hearts of everyone watching the training race with excitement.

Candidates, sweating profusely despite performing simple movements repeatedly.

“Hey.”

Sein, who had been lying lazily next to them, rose and gestured towards the organization members.

“You… called?”

Feeling naturally compelled to raise his voice in the presence of Sein’s dignity and charisma.

“Why are you staring like that?”

“Ah… If it was impolite, I apologize. We didn’t realize.”

“No.”

A smirk played on Sein’s lips.

His gleaming white teeth.

“You just here to watch?”

“….?”

“Wanna spar with the kids?”

“….!”

Sein pointed at a few candidates.

“Will that be alright?”

The organization members of Rasel were confident in their skills.

They were individuals with combat experience, to the extent that there were rumors of a maid of Rasel who could single-handedly raze a village in Zone 10.

Being such individuals, they couldn’t contain their excitement.

“But Dante is coming today….”

“Ah, don’t worry about that.”

They were also slightly wounded in pride by the news of the main gate security breach.

“Well, please.”

Realizing they could compete against the candidates, they reluctantly took their positions.

Before they knew it, the candidates who would be their opponents were standing before them naturally.

“Oh, by the way….”

Sein raised his sword as a signal for the duel and said.

“Our folks don’t know the meaning of ‘moderation’.”

Crash!

In an instant, one of the organization members was sent flying.

*

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A procession of carriages devoid of splendor.

Yet, the stark appearance of the carriages was so militant that it evoked thoughts of tanks rather than carriages.

Hee-yah!

Horses clad in armor neighed loudly as the carriage came to a halt.

On one corner of the carriage, the prominently displayed emblem made them feel how proudly they held themselves.

“The shimmering exterior remains the same.”

The figure stepping down from the carriage.

“Disembark.”

At his command, dozens of carriages simultaneously swung their doors wide open.

Rohan Demorus.

He was none other than the guild master of Dante.

Clank, clank.

The sound of armor began to echo in front of the main gate of Rasiel.

Onlookers had long disappeared after catching a glimpse of Dante’s emblem.

“They’re not coming out to greet us.”

“That’s their pride, you see.”

A young man suddenly standing beside Rohan remarked.

“What else is there in Rasiel besides flaunting that same pride?”

“Your tongue is smooth. A man without skill risks losing it if he mocks others recklessly.”

Chuckle.

Rohan smiled slyly.

“You possess that skill, so that too is a boast.”

“Thank you.”

Yet, as if to say, Rohan’s smile vanished from his face.

“You may mock me smoothly now, but I hope for the day when I can do the same to you.”

The man next to him, higher than Rohan.

-Demorus.

If he were to stand at that center, Rohan would have to bow even lower, beyond what he could bear.

To be under Demorus’ dominance meant even non-existent knees would kneel.

“I will keep it in mind.”

Clank, clank.

In the meantime, the carriages continued to pour out people as if pouring out everything.

“Are the children prepared?”

“What preparation is there to speak of?”

“Domos.”

At Rohan’s voice, a youth named Domos shuddered and bowed his head.

“Do not overlook Rasiel.”

“……”

“Rasiel also exists under the name of Demorus. Its value should be acknowledged.”

The youth remained silent.

“Rebellion may arise.”

Understanding it as Domos’ rebellion.

Knowing it as a refusal to acknowledge Rasiel, Rohan spoke.

“But it will be acknowledged.”

Rohan had already been to Rasiel once.

And on that day, I saw the owner who had been causing a commotion in the back alleys these days.

“Saint Demorus. That scoundrel must be Rasiel’s true heir.”

Saint.

“You need not worry.”

Damos lifted his head.

“Be it Saint or anyone else, to me, they are mere mortals.”

Damos spoke as if he had transcended humanity himself.

“May he not succumb to arrogance.”

Rohan seemed to acknowledge that.

And finally,

Marching.

A crowd of dozens stood behind Rohan in formation.

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Dante’s combatants.

And the contenders.

The very presence of Dante instilled immense awe and fear, as if the name alone carried great worth.

March, march.

They advanced towards Rasiel’s main gate.

Gulp.

The guards swallowed hard, taking their stances.

Though I had seen it before, I had to endure.

Refrain from retreating in fear.

“It’s Dante’s Rohan Demorus. Here for the exchange prior to the duel.”

Rohan’s words felt like a ton of bricks.

“Open the gates.”

“Welcome to Rasiel.”

Creeeak-!

Rasiel’s main gate began to open.

*

*

*

March! March!

The procession led by Rohan, in honor of Dante, resembled the ranks of soldiers marching onto the battlefield.

Weight.

Gravity.

And then.

Thud!

Destruction.

If there were to be a depiction of all that, it might just be their very appearance.

On either side, Rasiel’s organization members stood ready.

A psychological warfare of not yielding to each other.

It was the beginning of the prelude to the interchange.

Despite the lack of composure, he feigned composure.

Even though he was scared, he feigned confidence.

“Sure.”

It seemed that Rohan was not entirely pleased with it.

“This is Deimos.”

Deimos.

Ultimately, things existing under that one name.

Knowing that each one must possess its own value, Rohan spoke thus.

Firmly.

Rohan stopped in his tracks and clenched his fist.

A line that also came to a halt.

“Long time no see around here.”

A voice coming from the opposite side.

There stood Alman, the master of Rasiel.

“View it as a joyous occasion, why be fearful.”

“I wonder where that crybaby from the past went.”

“….”

It was the first time.

That something akin to fear had touched Rohan’s steely face.

“When I was soulbound to Gaju….”

“Enough.”

Interjected at that moment was Damos.

“I am Dante’s master. I hope you will show respect.”

“Oh, so you’re the little brat that Rohan boasts about.”

Crackle.

Even Damos’ face seemed to show a hint of fear.

“Feeling upset?”

“I am also a candidate for Deimos, a soldier to replace Dante. I ask for your respect, Master Alman.”

“So, you’re the one Rohan brags about. Where….”

In that instant.

Kwaaaah-!

A massive surge of energy emanated from Alman’s body like a tidal wave.

It wasn’t the usual pleasant-looking Alman that everyone knew.

“Are you fooling around without knowing when to hold your tongue.”

In Damos’ eyes.

In everyone’s eyes.

Alman appeared like a demon.

A shudder.

My stomach churned, as if I might vomit.

That was it.

‘A monster.’

It was nothing less than a monster wearing a human disguise.

Kwaaaaah-!

But when Rohan also unleashed his magic, Alman’s appearance seemed to return to normal soon after.

“This is a place for children to interact, Alman.”

Once again, Rohan, wearing his iron mask, spoke.

“Don’t go too far with nonsense. And Damos.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Apologize to Master Alman.”

“…!”

Rohan was firm.

“I will offer my apology.”

“It’s not only the fault of the poorly educated kids, it’s also the fault of the reckless ones. Let it go.”

“….”

Damos’s face turned pale.

“Hwiyou, our Master has quite the sharp tongue.”

At that moment, everyone’s gaze turned towards the voice.

Snow-white hair.

And eyes burning like fire.

But most striking of all was the lack of anything discernible from him.

“I mean, who dares mock my tongue like a dog? If it were me, I would have cut it off.”

For some reason, nothing could be felt from him.

“Cook, cook.”

Laughter began to echo from somewhere.

Distorted Dante.

“Anyway, welcome. Dante.”

Alman intervened, trying to defuse the situation.

“Drink and eat to your heart’s content.”

Alman spoke loudly.

“Guests at Rasiel’s are treated generously.”

The restaurant, lavishly adorned as Alman’s words, was filled with food.

Exquisite delicacies that were hard to come by even in the lower districts.

Even fish dishes that had become truly scarce were abundant.

Gulp.

Sounds of swallowing could be heard here and there.

“Did Dante say he was poor? Why are they like that?”

The candidates of Lasciel murmured.

“They’re not poor, but more like ascetic. They only eat combat rations.”

“Wow. They’re insane.”

The grandeur in the garden completely vanished, and in the eyes of Dante’s candidates, only food seemed to fill them.

“Ahem.”

But everyone straightened up at Rohan’s fake cough.