The Second Son of the Marquis Wants to Laze Around
Chapter 110: Seraphina Wulfhart (3)

Chapter 110: Seraphina Wulfhart (3)

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"Skip," a calm voice interrupted her mid-sentence, cutting through her seething anger like a blade through silk.

"Wha—?" she blinked, startled.

"You don’t need to continue. I can guess the rest," said Eren, his tone bored and emotionless.

Seraphina’s glowing eyes dimmed into a dull of confusion before turning into a glare, as she turned toward the human who now sat casually on a plastic monobloc chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He leaned back lazily, head resting on his hand with an uninterested half-lidded gaze—as if her painful story was nothing more than a background noise to him.

The audacity made her eye twitch in rage. The sheer disrespect of it.

Useless, who had been observing silently through its screen, nodded knowingly. It understood her frustration and even felt a tinge of sympathy. After all, it was also a victim to it’s Master’s Skips.

Ignoring her glare, Eren asked with sudden interest, "You said the Fulcier Church was involved in your downfall? That they helped your brother and the rebels frame you and capture you, correct?"

"...Yes," she said through clenched teeth, her voice sharp with hatred at him. "They were part of it."

"How sure are you?" he asked, his tone probing now. "Did you do anything that could have been considered a forbidden or a sin? Something that directly violated the church’s teachings?"

"Of course not!" she snapped. "Even as a demon, I studied and memorized the teachings of Goddess Fulcier."

Her words were laced with irritation. How dare this human question her? She knew very well whether she had committed any divine sin or not.

"...But you don’t believe in the Goddess," Eren reminded her quietly. "Didn’t you say you were an atheist?"

Seraphina’s face flushed red, her pride dented by her own earlier confession when she was telling her story.

"Y-Yeah... but I was forced to learn their teachings if I wanted to become a Demon Lord," she muttered, looking away.

Eren’s already dull eyes grew even duller at her answer, but he let it slide and returned to his point.

"So, you were framed by the church, your brother, and those backstabbing cheaters of yours. Do you have any solid proof that ties them together?"

Seraphina didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she pointed down at the glowing red magic circle beneath her.

"This," she said. "This magic circle was made using ancient runes."

Eren followed her gaze, observing the intricate symbols carved into the dungeon floor.

"Magic circles that use these types of old runes are considered high-tier magic," she explained. "Only the most powerful families or clans can use them—especially the church."

In modern times, common magic spells were cast using simpler, more standardized runes. Ancient rune magic, however, was a rare and powerful form of spellcasting created during the Third Era. Most of it had been lost in the Divine War, and the few surviving spells were guarded fiercely—hoarded by elite clans like the Wulfhart or institutions like the Fulcier Church.

Useless had even informed Eren before in the past that some of these ancient magic spells were held in secret by powerful noble families or the Alliance Council themselves.

"I’ve studied every ancient rune spell known to the clans. I can recognize each one and who it belongs to," Seraphina continued. "But this one..." she pointed again at the floor, "this rune pattern—it’s nearly identical to the ones used by the Demon Lords."

She elaborated that those who have been selected as new Demon Lord after the trials, like her, they would gain access to powerful spells stored in the Demon Church archives. These spells had been handed down from the First Demon Lord, and only those who became the Demon Lords could learn them.

But this particular magic spell runes beneath her was unknown to her. She had never seen it in the archives.

Curious, Eren turned to his system.

’Useless, what do you think?’

[She’s telling the truth. I detect no lies. And she really does recognize the spell’s hand.]

Eren’s eyebrow rose.

’Hand?’

[Yes, "hand." Every spell has a creator, and those creators leave behind there Mark in a form of runes signature—like a handwriting style. The structure of the runes, the flow of magic, the circle’s construction... it’s like a fingerprint left behind by the original caster who created the spell]

Eren was impressed. He glanced again at the crimson circle beneath him.

’So... this spell was created by the First Demon Lord himself?’

[Yes.]

Looking back at the fox—or maybe half-fox, half-wolf—woman, Eren asked once more, "Is there anything else?"

Seeing that he was still pressing for more answers, Seraphina frowned, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"... Yes. The dagger that my brot— I mean, that traitor used to stab me... it was a magic artifact. One that seals both magic and physical strength. I’ve seen it before. It was locked away in the Fulcier Temple—supposedly out of reach, only accessible by either the Demon Lord... or the Church Pope."

Seraphina was no fool. She had a sharp memory and could recall almost every artifact, spell, or piece of ancient history she had studied during her time with the church. She had always been a diligent student since childhood. After all, if you wanted more power, you had to gain more knowledge. That was the lesson drilled into her by her old mentor—knowledge feeds power, and power demands effort.

Eren rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his brows drawn together. "Do you have any idea why the Church got involved? Why they helped the rebellion take you down?"

"I don’t know," Seraphina muttered, looking away with a pout, clearly irritated by his non-stop questioning. "Maybe someone from the rebellion... like a high demon or noble... managed to bribe or convince them. Promises, money, power—take your pick. It’s always someone hiding behind the scenes pulling the strings."

"Isn’t your brother the one pulling the strings?" Eren asked, confused.

But Seraphina just let out a derisive snort. "Hah! Him? Don’t make me laugh. That coward isn’t smart or brave enough to stab me in the back on his own. No way he’d have the guts to betray me... unless someone else convinced him to do it."

Her lips curled into a bitter smirk. She was confident in her judgment—after all, she had handpicked and ruled over every subordinate under her command. None of them, not even her half-brother, were a true threat on their own against her power.

Eren narrowed his eyes, his voice calm as he spoke again. "Are you really sure about that?"

Seraphina turned her head sharply toward him.

"I mean," Eren continued, "you keep talking like the mastermind is definitely someone from the demon ranks... but what if it wasn’t? What if the one pulling the strings was someone from the Church?"

Seraphina frowned deeply. "What are you implying? That the Fulcier Church was the one manipulating everything from behind the scenes?"

She didn’t want to believe it. Those "neutral" priests never involved themselves in demon race politics and conflicts. They always stood on the sidelines, claiming to follow only the will of the Goddess of Power. Why would they suddenly change now?

Eren shrugged casually. "I don’t know. It’s just... your story feels off. You said you ruled for seventy years, crushed rebellion after rebellion, and the Church never once stepped in. Not once. And then suddenly, during this last rebellion, not only do they get involved—they directly help your enemies?"

"That’s because the Fulcier Church follows the doctrine of strength," Seraphina replied stiffly. "They don’t care about demon civil wars or faction conflicts. As long as the strongest wins, that’s what matters to them."

"But when you were betrayed, they interfered," Eren pointed out, one brow raised. "And not just interfered—they gave your brother a high Tier artifact and openly supported the rebellion."

Seraphina’s lips pressed into a tight line. She had no comeback. Her mind was spinning.

Eren noticed her sudden silence and the way her ears drooped slightly. A small, knowing grin tugged at his lips.

"Tell me something, ex–Demon Lord," he said, leaning back in his chair, fingers laced together, elbows resting on the armrests. "If the Fulcier Church hadn’t interfered during that war, if they hadn’t handed over that artifact, would you have won?"

Her golden eyes widened for a split second. Then she frowned, deep in thought, imagining a different version of the past.

If that dagger hadn’t been used... if her brother had resorted to something else, like poison or brute force... she might’ve survived. She might’ve won the battle, and even if she had lost, she could’ve won the trial and kept her throne.

But instead... during her public trial, the Church Pope had stood by the rebels’ side. He had accepted all the evidence—both real and forged—as if it were unquestionable truth. As if logic and reason suddenly mattered in demon land.

Which was absurd.

Since when did the followers of Fulcier—the Goddess of Power and Strength—start judging demons with "logic and reason"?

Seraphina had thought the Pope was being stupid... or at least, inconsistent. But then, she remembered something that made her fists clench.

During the trial, she had invoked the ancient right to challenge her accuser—a sacred duel to prove her worth and strength as the Demon Lord.

But the Pope had denied her.

"A heretic who is not of pure blood and a liar does not deserve to prove anything."

Seraphina’s hands trembled in fury as she recalled those words.

’Like What the hell was that? Are they followers of Fulcier or followers of Sanin?!’

She bit her lip so hard it nearly bled. Her mind screamed with the realization that maybe—just maybe—the Church had never been neutral. Maybe they had been lying all along.

’Neutral, my ass!’

Eren saw the fire burning in her eyes, the barely contained rage, and smirked with amusement.

"Yes. The church must’ve lied and plotted everything from behind the scenes, using the rebels as a convenient cover. I mean, come on—they’re demons. Of course they’d lie about being ’neutral.’"

Seraphina narrowed her eyes at the sarcastic remark, glaring at him with irritation. She wanted to argue back, but couldn’t find the words. Mainly because... he wasn’t wrong.

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