Chapter 206 – A New Painting (2)
"Leave Harkman like this for a few days, until he’s completely drowned in pleasure."
"Should we continue entertaining him as we are now?"
"What about the training for the women?"
"It’s already been taken care of."
Everything—from the women’s appearances to the alcohol and food—was prepared according to Harkman’s preferences. But the most important element was the atmosphere.
If the women treated him as they would his master, the Grand Duke, with sweetness and devotion, Harkman would never be able to pull himself away from their embrace.
"I didn’t know he was so indulgent in pleasure."
"It’s not pleasure he seeks—it’s to fill a void."
"A void?"
"Being by the Grand Duke’s side makes it seem like he has everything, but that’s far from the truth. Grand Duke Clarke is a very greedy old man."
Harkman himself was a man full of greed, but his master was far more insatiable. As a result, all rewards granted to him were merely things that had lost the Grand Duke’s interest.
"A greedy knight who could only watch as his master indulged in the best of everything. It’s not hard to understand the void he carries."
"Then, don’t tell me the things prepared today…"
"The alcohol, the food, the women—they’re all to Grand Duke Clarke’s taste."
It was human nature to fill what was lacking.
The way to satisfy Harkman’s emptiness was simple.
Treat him like the Grand Duke.
It was a form of hospitality that could only be provided within Tobaron, where the Grand Duke’s eyes couldn’t reach.
Once Harkman realized this, Kamel’s value would skyrocket—because he would become the only means to fill that void.
"Has there been any mention of the ‘item’ yet?"
"Not yet. They haven’t brought it out."
"The Grand Duke—that old man—would never part with such a precious ‘item’ so easily. He’s clearly stalling for time, looking for an excuse to refuse."
"What should we do?"
"Everything will be resolved once we win over Harkman. That ‘item’ is in his possession."
When Harkman came looking for him, that would be the moment for Kamel to claim what he needed.
Until then, he would continue drawing the outlines of his new plan.
Seated at his desk, he swiftly reviewed the information that had piled up over the past two weeks. After carefully analyzing it, he wrote down the necessary orders and handed them over to Rengua.
As Rengua checked the documents one by one, he cautiously asked,
"Do you have plans for a patrol?"
"I’ll need an escort."
"Shall I bring Knight Wiley?"
"What about Lyon?"
"It’ll be difficult. He needs the ‘item’ to recover."
"Has Wiley fully recovered?"
"Yes. He’s completely healed. However, to the outside world, Knight Wiley is still believed to be unconscious."
"Of course."
The reason why Wiley, the commander of Etor’s knights, who had been brainwashed into becoming Kamel’s subordinate, had not appeared in public was simple—he was keeping Etor’s cavalry unit tied down in Blyer.
For the past ten days, Etor’s emissaries had been desperately trying to issue an emergency recall order to the cavalry, but the process had been repeatedly delayed under the pretext of Wiley’s injuries.
"What’s the status of the operation in Etor?"
"It’s practically in its final stages. The nobles have requested our protection, and under the guise of guarding the borders, we’ve stationed our forces in Etor. The process of securing the nobles’ allegiance should be completed within a week."
"There’s no need to delay any further, then."
During Kamel’s two-week absence, Etor had been under relentless attack from mysterious madmen, a ploy orchestrated by the shamans’ nest.
Once known as Etor’s finest warriors, these berserkers had become mere puppets of the shamans, slaughtering their own people. And Etor lacked the military strength to stop them.
With both its knightly order and elite forces paralyzed, the only power they could turn to was Kamel.
The moment they requested Blyer’s assistance once more, Blyer’s army entered Etor under the guise of offering aid—without a single drop of bloodshed.
Now that Wiley, their knight commander, had also been turned into Kamel’s pawn, Etor was effectively under his control.
"Bring Wiley to me."
"Will he serve as your escort?"
"It’s too soon to openly place him under my command. I’ll send him back to Etor with the cavalry. Through him, I’ll control Etor."
"Then, for your escort…"
"From the report, it seems the production of ‘Red Knights’ has been successful. Is that correct?"
"Yes. Thanks to the insight you provided, we managed to create them. However, they’re still in the early stages…"
"How many have been produced?"
"Three units."
Red Knights.
A new form of bio-weapon, created by evolving berserkers—who had been born from the ‘Stone of Madness’—using puppetcraft.
Unlike ordinary voodoo dolls, these were created by binding powerful bodies to shapeless shamanic constructs, making them a superior version of the Van Dyke puppets.
The experiment had been born from Kamel’s idea—to repurpose berserkers who had been broken in battle into voodoo puppets.
Because they possessed the bodies of knights, they could wield aura.
Because they were still alive, their bodies could be engraved with various spells.
This granted them extraordinary combat capabilities.
"You achieved success in such a short time."
"Both berserkers and Van Dyke puppets originate from the same root—madness. It was only thanks to your wisdom that we realized this. How did you know?"
"I knew someone who was obsessed with the ultimate evolution of voodoo puppetry."
"Huh? Who was it?"
Kamel simply smiled at Rengua without answering.
"Can they be mass-produced?"
"It’s possible if we have enough materials and time. But the resources are rare, so large-scale production will be difficult."
"Then we just have to secure more materials."
"The higher the quality of the materials, the more quantity we’ll need to compensate. It’s hard to estimate how much would be required…"
"I’ll make sure there are so many corpses piled up that you won’t be able to measure them."
For a brief moment, Rengua flinched, lowering his head at the sharp glint in Kamel’s eyes.
That gaze sent a chilling sensation through him.
What exactly was his lord thinking?
When he cautiously lifted his head, he saw Kamel silently staring at the map, his eyes fixed on Beneta.
Moments later, when Kamel summoned Wiley Grimes and the Red Knights, they appeared before him.
"Wiley Grimes."
"You called for me, my lord."
"Return to Etor with the cavalry. Reorganize the army and await my orders."
"..."
"Your condition?"
"No issues."
Wiley, under the effects of brainwashing, showed little emotion.
Yet, even he seemed full of life compared to the Red Knights standing behind him.
Their dull, lifeless gray.
Kamel observed the Red Knights, sensing a deep, lifeless gray emanating from them. These evolved forms of berserkers had disturbingly expressionless faces.
"They’re still living beings, correct?"
"And yet, they are beings without thought."
Kamel nodded and reached out his hand toward the Red Knights.
From the Ring of Subjugation, a black sapphire gleamed.
[Subjugation Control]
Since they were alive, they could be subjected to subjugation. Since they lacked independent thought, they offered no resistance.
As the black light enveloped the Red Knights, they bowed their heads in submission. A satisfied smile formed on Kamel’s lips.
As expected, it worked.
With a mere flick of his finger, one of the Red Knights moved to Wiley’s side.
He hadn’t issued a direct command, yet it followed the order as if it had been instinctively given.
"Keep it by your side at all times, like a bodyguard."
"Understood."
"I won’t see you off. Depart within the day."
With that, Wiley left with the Red Knight.
Kamel tested the remaining two Red Knights, making them move in various ways, then stepped outside with them.
They responded to his hand movements so precisely that they truly seemed like living puppets.
Rengua, his face filled with disbelief, asked hesitantly,
"Can you truly control them at will?"
"If a being is fully swallowed by subjugation, [Subjugation Control] allows for extensive manipulation. They are living puppets, which makes complete subjugation possible."
"Even so, to dominate them in a single attempt… That’s incredible."
Kamel had plenty of experience controlling subjugated entities even before his regression. He had even perfected the most optimal way to use this ability.
"You’ve placed sensory spells on the Red Knights, correct?"
"Of course. Their sight and hearing have been amplified twentyfold beyond that of a normal human. They will serve as your eyes and ears… No way. Are you saying you can also share their senses?"
"There’s a range limitation. But if I were to remove that limitation… it would mean giving up control."
Kamel turned his gaze to Rengua and spread his fingers.
"I can share the senses of up to two of them, regardless of distance. Even their pain."
That was why he had assigned one to Wiley.
***
Another day passed.
Kamel was now on his way, moving quickly toward the location where Rengua was waiting for him.
Bersen Clarke—the ruler of Demtor.
The Grand Duke Clarke had reached out through a crystal sphere.
On his way to his quarters, Kamel made a brief detour.
Aside from Harkman, he had scattered other baits in various places. One of them was about to take the bait.
"Samuel Barber."
There was something Kamel needed to obtain from the Courier.
Under a large, lush tree, a man in a black hat sat at a makeshift table, leisurely enjoying tea time.
As Kamel approached, Samuel ran a rough hand over his mustache, visibly displeased by the visit.
"Do you still have business with me, Lord?"
"Whether I do or not, this is my land."
"Once our settlement is finished, even if you ask me to stay, I’ll leave. So if you have nothing important to say, go tend to other matters."
"Have you given my offer any thought?"
"If you mean information about the ‘guest,’ I’ve already answered. My answer is no."
Guest.
He was referring to the visitor to the Witch’s Forest.
Two days ago, during an intentionally leading conversation with the cunning lord before him, Samuel had let slip a crucial detail—the existence of a boy.
Kamel had deduced this by recognizing the Twilight Leaf Tea Samuel drank during tea time and using it to infer his visit to the Witch’s Forest.
The more Samuel spoke with him, the more he felt like he was being ensnared in a conversation trap. So after that slip-up, he had tried to avoid engaging in any further discussions.
But Kamel kept offering new terms, constantly trying to extract information about the boy.
Today, Samuel planned to ignore him and let the matter pass.
Until—
"Don’t you want to know why the Black Market’s settlement keeps getting delayed?"
"You know the reason?"
"Of course. We can trade."
"...Hah."
The moment he answered, he regretted it.
He had been caught again.
It was infuriating how Kamel always managed to pick at the most tempting curiosity.
It was nearly impossible to ignore him.
"I still won’t tell you anything about the boy."
"Even when it concerns your safety?"
"My… safety?"
When Kamel nodded, Samuel scoffed and gently stroked his mustache.
"Who would try to capture me?"
"If a trap were set, it would be possible."
"Do I look so foolish that I’d fall for a trap I know exists?"
"What about there?"
Kamel pointed toward a spatial portal.
Samuel’s eyes narrowed.
"You’re saying they laid a trap on the other side of the portal?"
"Has the Black Market ever delayed a settlement for three days before? Normally, they either pay immediately or tell you to come in person. They never ask you to wait."
"If they tried to capture me, they’d lose more than they’d gain."
"Not if Demtor is backing the Black Market."
…Demtor?
Why would they…?
"Because of the ‘Forest’s Information.’"
"They’ve known for years that I serve as a courier for the Witch’s Forest. If they wanted to capture me for that reason, they would’ve moved long ago."
"The situation has changed. Aren’t you curious why the Grand Duke’s chief knight has come to Tobaron?"
"…"
"We are preparing for war against the Witches."
At that, Samuel shot up from his seat.
For someone bound to the Forest by deep ties, those words sent a chill down his spine.
Were they planning to recreate the massacre of that fateful day?
"Samuel Barber, the Errand Runner of the Forest."
"Before hunting the witches, shouldn’t we first take care of the dogs they raised?"
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I want to collect your life’s worth in a different form later."
Samuel silently sipped the last of his tea, then let out a small chuckle.
"Your silver tongue is too smooth—it makes me doubt everything you say. But if I were to run away now, I’d carry the label of ‘coward’ forever. Can you handle that?"
"Follow me. I’ll show you the proof with your own eyes."
As Kamel turned and walked away, Samuel hesitated for a moment before setting down his empty teacup.
Then—he vanished into thin air.
In the blink of an eye, he was walking right behind Kamel.
Shortly after, they arrived at what looked like a villa.
Rengua was already waiting outside to greet them.
Inside, a communication crystal—sent by Arcane—was glowing.
[How dare you keep me waiting. Arrogant brat.]
The voice made Samuel instinctively step back.
It was none other than Grand Duke Clarke.