## Chapter 1281
"Excuse me?"
Raon’s brow furrowed into a deep scowl as he glared at the Bear Fire Demon.
"What sort of crackpot theory is that?"
He was willing to concede that the Silent Serpent Swordsman posed a significant threat. The man was, after all, a Transcendent whose movements defied conventional logic and prediction.
However, the notion that the entire world would face total annihilation simply because the Silent Serpent Swordsman perished felt devoid of any basis in reality. It sounded like a gross exaggeration—no, it sounded like a literal impossibility.
—To claim so nonchalantly that the world is ending...
Wrath let out a hollow, mocking guffaw, clearly finding the statement preposterous.
—It appears that furry beast, rather than you, has inherited the Authority of Pride!
The tiny monarch shook his head vigorously, deriding the Bear Fire Demon’s dire warning.
"Haaa..."
Burren let out a long, weary sigh, massaging his temples as if the sheer absurdity of their recent experiences was finally giving him a migraine.
"Just because you’re tagging along with us, did you forget your roots in Eden?"
Martha snorted derisively, closing the distance between herself and the Bear Fire Demon.
"Quit spewing garbage and get out of here!"
She barked at him to retreat, giving the Bear Fire Demon a firm shove.
"The end of the world..."
Runaan observed him with a focused, icy gaze, her expression reflecting total skepticism toward his claims of global ruin.
"U-um..."
Dorian gulped audibly, tentatively raising his hand.
"Shouldn't we at least hear him out? If he’s talking about d-destruction, we might want to know the details!"
His legs were visibly knocking together; the mere mention of the world ending seemed to have triggered his deepest anxieties.
"...Very well."
Raon gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"The sun hasn't crested the horizon yet, so you have time to explain."
He stared down at the Bear Fire Demon, who remained in a kneeling position with his arms folded.
"Explain exactly how the death of the Silent Serpent Swordsman leads to the destruction of everything."
Not even Great Demon Kings like Wrath or Pride—nor the undisputed titans of the continent like the Heavenly Demon or Derus Robert—spoke so casually about the world's end. Even after processing the dialogue of the other Swordsmen, Raon couldn't bridge the gap between the Silent Serpent Swordsman’s life and the fate of the planet.
"Th-the Silent Serpent Swordsman. No... the Golden Mask, the Red Demon, the Blue Serpent, the Green Serpent, and the Silent Serpent... they are all..."
The Bear Fire Demon’s jaw shook as he cataloged the Eden Swordsmen adorned with serpent-themed helms he had encountered.
"They are my flesh and blood!"
He declared himself their father and lifted his gaze. His eyes, shimmering like a disturbed puddle in a rainstorm, carried the weight of someone telling a desperate truth.
"Five sons?"
Evelyn’s eyes went wide with genuine shock.
"Did you have them back-to-back every single year?"
She tilted her head, seemingly far more fascinated by the logistics of their birth order than the impending doom of civilization.
"N-no. They were born as quintuplets. All at once. And then there is the youngest, who came later..."
The Bear Fire Demon blinked, momentarily thrown off by Evelyn’s line of questioning, but he provided the answer nonetheless.
"Not just four, but five at once? And then another? That’s absolutely insane!"
Evelyn let out a sharp, impressed whistle.
"Raon! We could totally do that too, right?"
She grabbed Raon’s arm and shook him, urging him to show some enthusiasm.
"Haaa..."
Runaan directed a wave of frigid energy toward Evelyn, her eyes glowing with a chilly, warning light.
"She really is missing a few screws..."
Martha squeezed her eyes shut, looking as though she had reached her limit for Evelyn’s antics.
"Ah..."
Even the weeping Bear Fire Demon went silent, his mouth hanging open as he stared at Evelyn in disbelief.
"Pay no mind to her..."
Raon sighed, rubbing his forehead to stave off a headache.
"Keep talking. Are you claiming that every serpent-masked swordsman we've fought is your son?"
He watched the Bear Fire Demon, the image of the Golden Mask Swordsman—the first one he’d met when Evelyn kidnapped him during her time as Merlin—flickering in his mind.
"Y-yes. Every one of them is my child. They were born with the innate talent for spirit possession, and because of that, Eden abducted them when they were very small..."
As he spoke, the Bear Fire Demon bit his lip so hard it began to bleed, the memory of that abduction clearly still a raw wound.
"They discovered I had a knack for magic as well, so I was dragged off right alongside them."
His voice grew thick with unshed tears as he described being taken into custody by Eden with his boys.
"Forced to watch them endure such agony, unable to lift a finger..."
He began to tremble violently, the ghost of that ancient resentment and trauma resurfacing.
"It was a living nightmare."
---
Vision is gone.
Sensation is gone.
Only one thing remains: sound.
"D-dad!"
"Aaaaah!"
"Please, save me!"
"Daddy!"
The voices of my children. The only thing piercing the void was the sound of them screaming for their father to rescue them.
My boys—beings more vital to me than my own heartbeat—were vomiting blood and begging for help, yet I was paralyzed.
Through sheer force of will, I tried to flex my deadened limbs. Eventually, my fingers twitched.
As I fanned the flames of my resolve to save them, my hands finally obeyed. But the moment feeling returned to my arms, a weight was pressed onto my head.
It was an Eden mask, plunging my sightless world into even deeper shadows.
"Daddyyyyy!"
I was thrust into a warped reality, the desperate cries of my sons still echoing in my ears.
A colossal horror loomed. A beast the size of a mountain. It was a Bearwolf—a creature with the face of a bear and the frame of a werewolf. This wasn't a common beast, but a Bearwolf Shaman, a master of primordial sorcery.
I didn't hesitate. I ran.
The Bearwolf Shaman treated me like a disposable plaything. It pelted me with boulders, ran me through with blades, and summoned storms of magic to batter me, all while howling in mockery.
Even as I was crushed, skewered, and burned by its spells, I refused to break.
Agony beyond the threshold of death washed over me in waves, but I endured, tethered to sanity by the memory of my sons' voices.
Yet, the Bearwolf Shaman was relentless. It invaded my consciousness with alien hallucinations until my very spirit began to fracture.
Just as I was about to collapse and be consumed by the beast, a figure wearing a black goat helmet stepped into my mental landscape.
"I suspected as much. You did well to make it this far."
The Evil Goat Demon, Syria Sullion. The man known as the most infamous rogue on the continent smirked, decapitating the Bearwolf Shaman with a casual flick of his blade.
"Feed."
Syria Sullion gestured with his chin toward the dissolving soul of the Shaman.
"If you truly want to rescue your boys, you’ll have to swallow that filth."
His lips curled into a freezing, predatory smile, indicating this was the solitary path to salvation.
"Graaaagh!"
I forced every scrap of the Bearwolf Shaman’s essence into my mouth, even as it slithered like sewage across the ground. My gut felt ready to burst and my skull felt like it was cracking open, but I would have endured a thousand times worse for my children.
As the sensation of a thousand maggots burrowing into my brain took hold, forbidden magical formulas and techniques flooded my mind. It was the inherited power of the Bearwolf Shaman.
"Useful, as I thought. Meet me on the other side."
Syria Sullion departed the mental realm, and as he vanished, I finally broke free from that twisted dimension.
"Haaa..."
I gasped for air, my eyes snapping open to find a clear blue sky—a sharp contrast to the chaos in my head.
"Mazel tov. You've been out for twenty years."
Syria Sullion stood over me, grinning as he held up two fingers.
"T-twenty years?"
The words didn't compute. To me, the struggle had felt far shorter.
"Actually, even longer than that."
Syria Sullion rubbed his jaw, suggesting the passage of time was even more significant.
"Th-then... my boys..."
"Deceased."
He shrugged casually, informing me that four of my five quintuplets were gone.
"A man named Raon Zieghart cut them down."
Syria Sullion gestured again with those two fingers.
"My children... dead..."
I had survived the mental hell of the Bearwolf Shaman solely for them. Hearing that the foundations of my soul had been destroyed caused my entire body to give out. I wanted to expire on the spot. I refused to accept it.
"N-no, that can't be..."
"Four died in those serpent helms. Two are still out there."
Syria Sullion flashed two fingers again, watching for my reaction.
"However, the fifth son currently wearing a mask is marked for death. And the youngest? He’s destined to become the engine that destroys this world."
He bared his teeth in a predatory grin, claiming that even the fifth would fall and the sixth—the youngest—would transform into a world-ending calamity.
"We have to intercept them. If you provide me with your assistance, I will ensure they are saved."
Syria Sullion promised that if I lent him my newfound magic, he would rescue the two remaining survivors.
"Two are still alive..."
I bit my lip, focusing on the fifth and the youngest. When I thought they were all lost, I wanted to deny it; now that there was hope, I desperately wanted to believe.
Furthermore, having absorbed the Shaman’s soul, I had gained fragments of knowledge about Eden. Syria Sullion’s words began to carry weight.
"I-I'll do it. I'll help. But..."
I pledged my total cooperation, my hands shaking as I balled them into fists.
"Where are they? Which masks are they hiding behind?"
The need to know their status overrode everything else. I lunged forward, grabbing Syria Sullion’s sleeve.
"The fifth is currently masquerading as the black serpent. The youngest is being kept in a high-security vault at Eden’s headquarters."
Syria Sullion answered instantly, as if he’d been tracking them long before he woke me up.
"A serpent mask? You said the ones who died also wore those..."
I tilted my head, confused by the repetition.
"Haven't you wondered why they shared that theme? They are all vessels for a single entity. A name that embodies pure despair..."
Syria Sullion’s smile widened as he saw my face go pale. He seared the name into my mind.
"Hydra. The Serpent of Despair, Hydra."
---
"Hydra..."
The moment the name Hydra left the demon's lips, a violent chill raced down Raon’s spine.
*I suspected something was off when they kept getting stronger with every new mask...*
He had never imagined the truth was this literal.
Hydra was a creature of myth, a harbinger of doom that had terrorized the world in the age preceding the Dragon of Destruction. It was a nine-headed serpent of varying elements; whenever a head was severed, its power would surge into the survivors. This trait made it an exponentially scaling nightmare to fight.
Legend held that when only the final head remained, the Hydra’s strength reached a level capable of unmaking the world. If the Silent Serpent Swordsman was the culmination of that power, the final form might rival the martial prowess of the Heavenly Demon or even Glenn Zieghart.
—Hydra!
Wrath let out a sharp hiss.
—If it is truly that beast, things just got interesting! That creature is the real deal when it comes to raw power!
It was a rare moment of the monarch acknowledging a worldly power, his expression twisting with intrigue.
*You're familiar with it?*
Raon swallowed hard, glancing at Wrath.
—I never crossed paths with it personally. However...
Wrath’s eyes narrowed into thin slits.
—The aura of despair it radiated was so potent it nearly triggered the birth of a new Demon King. I’ve always been curious about it.
He licked his lips, seemingly eager to witness the entity known as Hydra.
*If this is the truth...*
Raon bit his lip, his gaze lingering on the Bear Fire Demon.
*The coming conflict with Eden is going to be far more grueling than I anticipated.*
Even if Hydra’s power was just a step below the likes of Glenn or the Heavenly Demon, it would be a monster to contend with. Raon had only recently stabilized his position in the Absolute realm; facing something that surely stood at the apex of that realm—or beyond—seemed like a death sentence.
*Clearly, I can't afford to be complacent with my current strength.*
He had achieved massive growth through his encounters with Pride and the Heavenly Demon. It was a significant milestone, but for the sake of Zieghart's survival, he couldn't stop now.
*I need to move faster...*
Raon shifted his hand to the hilt of Heavenly Drive, his eyes falling on the red thorn bracelet—the parting gift from Pride.
*I have to awaken <Pride>.*
-
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