The Second Son of the Marquis Wants to Laze Around
Chapter 127: Demon Pope & The Darkness

Chapter 127: Demon Pope & The Darkness

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...

Calming down after unleashing his fury, the Pope gave a cold glare toward his trembling subordinate.

"Send a team to the site of the Artificial Dungeon. I want confirmation—go see with your own eyes if it’s really been destroyed," he ordered with a voice sharp as a blade.

The subordinate bowed deeply. "Understood."

Of course, the Pope knew that making such a move might draw the attention of the Three-Race Alliance. But at this point, he didn’t care.

Their grand plan was still progressing steadily, though now the timeline had become uncertain. Originally, the next Demon Lord Selection Ceremony was supposed to take place thirty years from now. But with recent events...

"We might not have that much time," the Pope murmured to himself.

"You better bring back good news," he added in a low, threatening tone as his subordinate vanished into the shadows.

Once silence returned to the prayer hall, the Pope let out a long, deep sigh. He turned back to face the massive statue of the Goddess Fulcier. For a moment, he simply stared up at her stony gaze, seeking some sort of comfort—or perhaps courage.

Then, without another word, he moved behind the statue to a large platform that elevated the sculpture high above the temple floor.

Reaching out with his gloved hand, he pressed a hidden switch embedded into the side of the stone pedestal.

—Click!

—Rrrrrumb...

A mechanical grinding sound echoed through the chamber as a circular slab of the floor behind the altar slowly shifted, revealing a dark staircase spiraling downward into the earth.

Without hesitation, the Pope descended.

The narrow passage was pitch black, oppressive and cold. With a flick of his hand, he conjured a small ball of flame to light the way, illuminating the old, jagged walls covered in strange carvings and dried blood-like markings.

He walked carefully, the path winding deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Finally, he reached a large stone door at the end of the descent. Pulling out a strange, rune-inscribed key, he unlocked the door and stepped inside—sealing it shut behind him.

Inside the chamber was... nothing.

Just darkness. Even the flame in his hand barely lit the space, as though the shadows themselves were devouring the light.

He snuffed out the flame.

Then, kneeling in the center of the pitch-black room, he clasped his hands and lowered his head—waiting.

...

–Hssshhh...

Suddenly, an unnatural wind brushed past him. The air turned ice-cold.

Then, it began.

[ꦲꦶꦭꦺꦴꦩꦸꦱꦶ ꦱꦸꦭꦺꦴꦮꦺꦤ꧀]

A whisper. Twisted syllables, like a broken language, reached his ears—a voice from beyond comprehension. Words no normal creature could understand.

The Pope’s body trembled slightly. He stayed kneeling, eyes closed tightly, head bowed in reverence and fear.

"The seal has been broken," he reported in a low voice.

[ꦧꦸꦠꦏ꧀? ꦱꦿꦶꦩꦶꦢꦺ ꦗꦩ꧀ꦧꦺ]

"No, we... we still don’t know the details. All I can confirm is that someone released her."

[...ꦒꦤ꧀ꦠꦶ ꦲꦶꦢꦶꦢ ꦥꦸꦭꦶ]

"I’ve already dispatched people to investigate," the Pope replied immediately.

[...]

A long pause, as the voice fell silent.

[ꦱꦗꦮ ꦏꦤ꧀ꦝ ꦱꦶꦩ꧀ꦧꦺꦴ]

"...Y-yes," the Pope stammered. "As of now, approximately 85% of the plan has been successfully carried out."

He wiped a cold sweat from his forehead. But even then, he made sure not to mention the escaped mutated monsters from the Abyss Prison. He didn’t want to anger the voice further. Not now.

[ꦥꦸꦤ꧀ꦝꦺ ꦱꦁꦠꦼꦏ ꦩꦶꦁꦏ]

Then the whisper changed tone. It sounded like it was talking more to itself than to the Pope.

[ꦩꦭꦺꦴ ꦏꦸꦤ꧀ꦛꦶꦱꦶ ꦗꦸꦤ]

The Pope’s eyes widened at the next command.

"You want to... skip the Demon Lord Selection Trial altogether?"

[ꦏꦿꦶꦩ꧀ ꦱꦶꦭ?]

"N-no! Of course I can do that. I just—" he caught himself, then immediately changed his tone. "The people might object... but I will handle it."

[...ꦱꦺꦴꦮꦸꦏꦺ]

"Y-yes! Yes! I’ll tell them it was a divine revelation from the Goddess," the Pope said quickly, bowing even lower.

The voice let out what sounded like a pleased hum, then spoke more instructions in its ancient, eldritch language.

[ꦩꦶꦤꦸꦱꦶ ꦲꦁꦠꦶꦭꦶ ꦏꦺꦏ]

"Understood," the Pope nodded repeatedly. "We will search for her. No matter what."

The whisper continued, giving him a stream of chilling commands. The Pope nodded non-stop, answering one after another.

"Yes."

"I will."

"Of course."

"No worries."

"I understand."

"It will be done."

Finally, the voice faded—its presence lifting like a storm cloud leaving behind the cold aftermath of dread.

[ꦕꦸꦏꦶꦗꦸꦏ꧀]

"Rest well, my lord," the Pope murmured respectfully.

Silence returned to the chamber.

The Pope slowly stood and left the room, carefully locking it behind him. As he emerged back into the stairway and sealed the entrance again, his entire body trembled.

He let out a shaky breath.

It felt like he’d survived a brush with death.

Even after so many years... he still couldn’t get used to hearing that voice.

"I pray I never have to come here again..." he muttered, hugging his arms to his body as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

With that, he turned and quickly made his way out of the darkness, back toward the surface.

...

...

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_____

(Extra)

Location: Valmont Household.

In the grand laundry corridor of the Valmont Mansion, five young maids bustled about with baskets of clothes piled high in their arms. The air was filled with the warm scent of soap and drying linen. Despite being in the middle of their duties, their voices were hushed in excited whispers—like little birds chattering behind the garden hedge.

Gossip was as natural among the maids as breathing, especially when something interesting—or scandalous—came up.

"Did you all see Madam Isadora this morning?" whispered Milly, the most energetic one of the group, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she hugged a bundle of towels against her chest.

"Yes, I did! She looked absolutely beautiful—like, shockingly beautiful!" gasped Tina, the wide-eyed youngest maid, nodding with enthusiasm.

"I know, right?" added Fara, adjusting the laundry basket on her hip. "And the Marquis too! Lord Cedric looked nothing like usual. Both of them... it’s like they transformed overnight!"

The group huddled closer, the hallway echoing faintly with their giggles and excited murmurs.

"Today’s hot topic," Nina, the serious one with glasses, said with a smirk, "is definitely the miraculous glow-up of our lovely Lord and Lady Valmont. I mean, most of us didn’t even know they used to look like that!"

"You’ll be even more surprised if I tell you something," said Lana, lowering her voice mysteriously.

The others immediately leaned in, eyes wide.

"I’ve seen their real appearance before," she whispered.

"Whaaat?! No way!" Milly gasped.

"You’re lying!" Tina exclaimed. "You were just as shocked as I was when we saw them this morning!"

"N-No! I mean I didn’t see them in person— I saw their portrait!" Lana corrected quickly, waving her hands. "You know that huge painting in the gallery hall that’s always covered with that white sheet?"

"The one next to the weird flower vase?" Nina asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, that one! I got curious and peeked under it once when I was dusting. And I swear—the Marquis and Madam in that painting looked exactly like they do now!"

"No way... are you serious?" Fara whispered, clutching her mop like it was a holy relic.

"It’s true! I promise!" Lana nodded quickly. "I even asked Senior Liane about it."

"Wait, Senior Liane knows about this too?" Tina asked in disbelief.

"Yep. She said that ten years ago, the madam was known as the most beautiful noblewoman in the social circles. I didn’t believe her at first..."

"Why not?" asked Milly, blinking.

"Well, you know... the madam’s usual figure and all," Lana said carefully, hesitating to finish the sentence out of politeness.

But they all understood what she meant.

Madam Isadora, in recent years, had gained quite a lot of weight. Her round cheeks and wide figure were a familiar sight in the mansion, and it was hard for anyone to imagine her as a dazzling beauty.

"I still don’t get it..." Fara muttered, tilting her head. "If she was that beautiful, why didn’t she stay like that? Why did she... you know... let herself go?"

"I think it was because of love," Lana said, shrugging.

"Love?!" Milly blinked in confusion.

"I mean, I heard from someone that the madam actually gained weight on purpose—so she could match her husband."

"...Huh?" Tina tilted her head. "That doesn’t make any sense."

Lana leaned in dramatically, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Apparently... when she married Lord Cedric, he already had a round figure. And instead of dieting or complaining, she–"

Just as all five girls gasped and leaned closer in stunned silence—

"What are you all doing?!"

"EEK!!"

"YAAA!!"

The shout made them all jump like cats caught in the pantry.

Standing behind them, hands on hips and frown deep enough to break stone, was Head Maid Gertrude—a stern woman in her late forties with a reputation for catching slackers like a hawk snatching mice.

"Stop loafing around and get back to work! The laundry won’t clean itself!"

"Y-Yes, Head Maid!!"

"S-Sorry!! We’ll get back right away!!"

The young maids scrambled like scattered chicks, tripping over baskets and bumping into each other as they fled down the hallway.

Gertrude sighed, shaking her head. "Young girls these days... too much imagination, not enough scrubbing."

...

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(Item Information)

Seraphina’s equipment:

High-Level Ancient Artifact

---

Name: Solara Bracelet.

Rank: Purple

Type: accessory (Bracelet)

Effect – mana concealment.

• it conceals the wearer’s mana from being completely detected, as long as the wearer does use it mana, either by casting magic or using Aura.

• Be note that the effect deactivated the moment the wearer uses mana intentionally.

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