A Demonic Covenant Reforged in the Ashes

The Ultimate Crimson

A man speeds through the sky, his back adorned with enormous, dragon-like wings that beat rapidly, generating a tremendous gust of wind. Although he appears to be only eighteen or nineteen, his body is drenched in blood as he flies toward the far reaches of the empire’s border.

“Huff… huff… huff…”

The panting man maintains his high velocity.

Around his neck, a decorative collar inscribed with densely packed black runes has almost entirely turned transparent, leaving only faint traces of dark markings—a clearly ominous sign. This is evidence of his runic bond being nearly exhausted, and now, he has pursuers right on his tail.

“Third Wing Pillar: Dimensional Demon Beast: Wing Expansion!”

Almost as the man begins to slow due to the dwindling runes, a female voice rings out from afar in the sky.

The man manages only to twist his head, but he lacks the strength to dodge the fragments that fly from the seemingly transparent wings at his back. Like countless shards of broken glass, the fragments tear into his body before transforming into transparent chains that tether him to the very fabric of space, binding him in a cross-like shape against the sky.

“Ha… ha…” “Huff… huff…”

Both of them breathe in unison, trying to recover their strength.

Both the man and the woman suspended opposite him have their necks encircled by densely arranged rings of runes, indicating they share the same profession—a unique, empire-exclusive occupation created by Ira known as the [Chancellor]. Yet at this moment, almost all of the man’s runes have turned transparent, while the woman still retains black runes on half of her neck.

“Huff… let me go, Haidilin.”

The man, regaining his strength, pleads, while the woman—bound to him—wears an expression of intense anxiety. She is earnestly preparing for battle, as though she is at a disadvantage.

“That’s impossible, Lord Ira…”

Haidilin says, addressing him with utmost seriousness as a fellow Chancellor. “This is Her Majesty the Queen’s command; Lord Ira, you must return to the empire…”

Yet Ira retorts with a wry tone, “Think about it—how could her handwriting possibly be that awful? If she could write so badly, her father would crawl up from the dead just to beat her.”

Haidilin falls silent for a moment before gently advising, “Teacher, even if you go back, no one can do anything to you… Just go back and explain everything clearly.”

She was once his student, but unlike him, she must first obey the Queen’s orders—a rarity in the empire.

In truth, Ira had never mentioned that he wasn’t a native of this world at all, but rather a traveler from [Blue Star]. In this realm of [magic], [magical power], [magic crystals], and [monsters], he rose to become an esteemed mage and, for reasons both extraordinary and mysterious, an archmage. Eventually, through even more astounding circumstances, he became the world’s first [Chancellor]—serving not only as Chancellor but also as the Queen’s teacher, a title that gave birth to the very occupation.

Over time, countless events unfolded: he turned the tide in the war against the demons and popularized the [Chancellor] profession. Aside from refraining from exploiting the domains of livelihood and basic technology, Ira used the wisdom of his previous life to make remarkable strides in this world. Naturally, some of his forward-thinking ideas angered the nobles; coming from an enlightened era, his thoughts inevitably clashed with the aristocracy. He had assumed that his own faction, one of the largest noble families, had reached some understanding with Duke Caligula of the noble faction… but that proved not to be the case.

“It probably wouldn’t be Caligula… that bastard, although my enemy, wouldn’t do something to truly provoke me. It must be one of his other foolish nobles,” he muses helplessly, bound by the void chains. Burning bridges would benefit neither side.

“If only Yuser were still alive; Isabella is still too immature…” Ira sighs.

“Lord Ira, even if you are the Queen’s teacher, saying that is not appropriate…” Haidilin begins, then adds, “You once said that when we Chancellors draw on demonic power, there’s a cost—it makes our emotions unstable, potentially leading to aberration, so we must remain calm.”

Clearly, she hopes he will regain his composure.

“Do you know how many hours I work in a day?”

Ira asks. Haidilin knows it’s around twenty hours. Yet, without waiting for an answer, he continues, “If I obediently return to the empire, it will put me, Her Majesty, and the non-radical nobles in a difficult position.”

Haidilin finds this hard to understand; she cannot fathom compromise or the exchange of interests, and thus she struggles to grasp the complex relations between the Ira faction and the noble faction.

“Look, so many of my pursuers are merely my students pretending to chase me; once they tire me out, I won’t pursue them further—only you, stubbornly, have followed me all the way here, right?”

Ira says helplessly.

“Anyway, you’ll never die…” he adds with resigned irony.

Haidilin remains silent for a long moment before finally speaking, “But that is no reason for you to escape, Lord Ira; no matter what, rebellion is wrong.”

“Believe it or not, quite the opposite…” Ira replies softly with his head bowed. At that moment, Haidilin begins to sense that something is amiss—a peculiar smell of sulfur emanates from his tone.

“It’s the empire that has betrayed me.”

Speaking so calmly, Ira lifts his head. His vertical pupils—reminiscent of a [dragon]—lock with Haidilin’s gaze, and the runes on his neck have mysteriously shed their black and transparent hues, turning into an extraordinarily, intensely blood-red.

“First Wing Pillar: Crimson Dragon: Wing Shatter!”

“……”“……”“……”

At the moment this calm command echoes, the demonic mana (magical power) coursing along the Chancellor’s spine springs into action. It consumes part of the world incantations from his runic bond as a link, communicating with the World Tree, and surreptitiously harnesses a massive amount of magical power.

If the command were [Wing Expansion], this power would gently unfurl the Chancellor’s wings. But with the command [Wing Shatter], all that magical energy is expended at once in a devastating finishing move, shattering the wings completely beyond use.

“Lord Ira! Your body is—” Haidilin shouts, but before she can finish, the entire imperial border garrison witnesses an overwhelming crimson spreading across the sky, as if hundreds of [suns] had simultaneously risen over the empire’s frontier.