I will be crowned king

"Well, that seems to be...Ambassador Maurice Périgord?!"

In the bustling banquet hall, a girl wearing a turquoise green dress brightened up and looked at the elf ambassador who was walking into the hall.

His dress looked a little messy, his steps were frivolous, and his figure, which was taller than human beings, seemed a bit staggering. The bright lights made his complexion as pale as lime.

Morris walked into the hall and closed the door behind him.

Are you sick, or are you just not feeling well?

The girl blinked in confusion, but the next second she suddenly realized that this might be a good opportunity to make the elf ambassador fall in love with her!

Reminiscing that the elf ambassador who was taken care of so well by her fell in love with her at first sight, all her friends around her looked at her with despair and jealousy... The girl immediately stepped forward and pretended to be concerned and asked her:

"Oh, my dear Lord Maurice Périgord, you look a little uncomfortable. Is the weather in Clovis making you uncomfortable?"

The girl who was thinking about the other person being fascinated by her tenderness completely forgot that the other person had been living in Clovis City for several years. She was so excited that she even began to think about the next development.

Now that he is at his weakest, what kind of sweet words and promises will he use to beg others to take him to a quiet room and take care of him carefully?

"Click."

Morris, whose body was twitching slightly, pulled out the revolver from his arms, and pressed the black muzzle against her smooth forehead.

well?

The girl whose heart was filled with pink had a sweet smile on her lips, not realizing what was happening in reality.

"boom!"

There was a gunshot, and the unconscious girl lay down among the flowers blooming on her forehead, a smile frozen on her face.

The entire banquet hall fell into a bewildered silence, until a richly dressed lady noticed a girl with a similar appearance lying on the ground, and fell in a pool of blood in despair, letting out a heart-rending wail.

“Eaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…!!!”

In front of the screams and gunshots that echoed throughout the castle, the stunned guests finally realized what had happened.

"My daughter——!"

Along with the lady's screams, the entire hall fell into chaos; the well-dressed guests instantly turned into panicked rabbits, pushing each other and hiding behind them.

"boom!"

The grieving lady and her daughter fell together. No one in the panicked crowd dared to look back. They even more desperately pushed away the guests blocking the way and fled further into the banquet hall.

Fear engulfed their reason, so much so that they forgot that there was only one entrance to the entire hall, that as long as they shouted, there were three companies of Guards outside the door, and that Maurice Périgord, who was blocking the door, had only one in his hand. Just a gun.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!..."

In the chaos, the elf ambassador with his head lowered was shooting aimlessly, and screams were heard from the crowd pushing each other to escape; except for one or two unlucky ones who were hit by lead bullets, many more were knocked down. They were trampled on, pushed away, and their heads were bruised and bloody on exquisite tables, chairs, and brightly colored knitted carpets.

"Boom!"

She kicked over a middle-aged man who almost knocked her over. Standing in the crowd, Lisa tried her best to protect the cake in her arms. The scene in front of her reminded her of that stormy night at Thunder Castle.

It was the same chaotic scene, the same chaotic wailing. In the heavy rain, our own people only fired a few shots, chasing away the "Imperials" like rabbits.

Gun, where's Lisa's gun?

Lisa suddenly had an idea and was stunned for a moment. She turned around to find the weapon she had specially put in the piano case; but the moment she turned back, a figure suddenly pounced on her.

"Ahhhhh~ I finally found you!"

The little maid Angelica, who was crying, hugged Lisa and buried her little head in her chest. Lisa, who could not move, was held in her arms.

"Don't be afraid, lovely Miss Lisa, don't be afraid!"

The panicked little maid just hugged Lisa, and with a voice that was about to cry, she didn't know who she was comforting. She crawled under the table on the messy carpet, and her exquisite cake skirt was dragged by her without any scruples. on the ground.

"Don't be afraid, lovely Miss Lisa, Angelica will protect you!"

Lisa, who was tightly hugged, stuck her head out and looked at the little maid who was about to cry with confusion.

"Click, click, click..."

Morris, who had fired the last lead bullet, found that the revolver in his hand was not smoking as usual. Confused, he pulled the trigger and pointed the gun at himself.

"boom!"

The next second, a roar exploded behind the door of the banquet hall.

The unconscious Morris' shoulder was bruised and bloody by the shot, and his whole body staggered forward half a step.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Continuous gunfire blasted the door into pieces, but not a single lead bullet could touch Morris again; his tall back stood motionless, as if there was an invisible wall blocking him behind.

"boom!"

A loud bang like an explosion blew open the dilapidated door. Laurence Bernat, armed with a flintlock ax in one hand and a revolver in the other, stood in front of the door. The mute but gentle sigh came from under his low-hanging three-cornered hat:

"Two hundred years before the Saints' Calendar, an Old God sect held a special ceremony in the countryside of Edland."

"My mother was seriously ill, and the local church and doctors were unable to do anything. So this poor fallen man prayed to the old gods, willing to use everything he had in exchange for his mother's life."

"He succeeded."

Morris, who was standing there, seemed to be stimulated by something. He was stiff and turned his head behind him with an action that was definitely not possible for humanoids. His cervical vertebrae sounded like the gears of a pocket watch. Voice.

His eyes were covered with purple bloodshot eyes, and the blood vessels on his face bulged one by one, like a wriggling snake squirming on his face. His open jaws allowed transparent viscous liquid to flow out of the corners of his mouth uncontrollably.

"This poor woman's mother's disease was cured and she was even healthier than before, but she also became a sacrifice to the three old gods with all sanity wiped out."

The elf ambassador turned his head and stared at Lawrence. He raised his right hand and pointed the palm of his hand at his face. Cordorian, who saw this scene, rushed out from behind Lawrence and raised his hand to shoot.

"boom!"

The lead bullets shot out of the gun flames exploded in the air without warning, turning into deep and dark flames.

The flowing fireworks wandered through the air like tentacles, and then swooped towards the judges standing outside the gate.

"The person who drinks this potion will be devoured by the power of the Three Old Gods within 192 seconds. He will have power comparable to a fifth-level spell caster and become a pure killing machine until the effect of the potion burns away his life force. !”

"Seriously, Captain, can we wait until the fight is over to explain this little encyclopedia?!"

Cole Dorian roared and pulled the trigger, waving a shiny black cane and rushed towards Morris, who was still standing there:

"With such a rigid setting introduction, even "Clovis Truth" is no longer popular!"

"clang!"

There was a sound of metal collision, and the cane that was swinging out of the afterimage exploded with dazzling sparks in the air, but it did not touch Morris' body.

Without any surprise or hesitation on his face, Cole raised the "dagger" revolver and stabbed Morris in the head.

The gunfire rang out, but it was Cole Dorian who flew out; the figure wearing a black leather trench coat hit the wall hard. The cracked wall and the falling masonry left no doubt that this one blow was enough to take him away. life.

At this moment, Lawrence did not go to rescue Cole, but took the opportunity to point the muzzle of the flintlock ax at the elf ambassador:

"It's called...a gift from the old gods!"

"boom!"

Scattered lead bullets exploded into sparks one after another in the air. The tall elf ambassador suddenly took a long stride and dodged all the lead bullets with an extremely exaggerated gesture.

There was a panicked scream in the hall.

"Everyone, please be quiet!"

Cole Dorian emerged from the pile of rubble. Having started the bloodline of the Holy Grail Knight, he picked up his cane and rushed towards Maurice as if nothing happened. He still had the extra thoughts to shout to the crowd:

"Those who don't want to die, listen clearly: we are the inquisitors of the Inquisition, and this Maurice Périgord is an old god!"

"Stay where you are and don't move until we get rid of this big trouble!"

The scorching hot flint-hair ax hit him head-on. Morris raised his head back very naturally; his arms stretched out to both sides were as close as a cane to draw across.

He stepped forward, like stepping on a drum, "commanding" the sparks of lead bullets exploding on the floor to follow his steps closely.

Black and profound flames bloomed at his fingertips, and as he stepped away from the two inquisitors and spun his body, they spread around, continuously exploding small and dazzling sparks on the ground and in the surrounding mid-air.

"boom--!!!!"

Among the people who were exclaiming, Mace Honnard, who was still sitting calmly at the table, looked at the black flames exploding in the banquet hall as if he were appreciating fireworks, and even had the mood to "teach a lesson" to Anson beside him:

"Dear Anson, have you noticed - even if he loses his mind, a conjurer still has an absolute advantage within the scope of his control."

"Excellent sense of distance, ever-changing spells that can distort reality...all excellent conjurers, but also an excellent artist."

"And for an 'artist', his enemies are more often... more like a part of his work."

At the moment of the explosion, the expressionless Lawrence blocked Cole Dorian behind him, and the black flames washed away like a tide, burning his body.

"call--"

The next second, the inquisitor wielding a flintlock ax to split the flames stood upright in the sea of ​​​​fire, striding towards Morris who was still standing there, his body still exuding bursts of green smoke left by the burning.

"Lawrence Bernat, the most experienced inquisitor of the Truth Seeking Order, possesses the bloodline power of the 'Knight of the Wild Hunt' and has unparalleled resistance to physical damage, which complements the ability of another descendant of 'Executioner Dorian' …”

Taking a sip of coffee, Mace Honnard looked at the nervous Anson with a gentle smile on his lips:

"Dear Anson, don't be so excited; tonight's party has just begun, and it has not yet reached its peak."

"I have been preparing for it for a long time, so I hope that at the moment when it is the most dazzling, you can end it - as a teacher's thank you gift to his most outstanding student."

The most dazzling moment...

Anson, who suppressed his inner nervousness and pretended to be shocked, forced a smile under the gaze of the black mage, as excited as a child being taken to see a play for the first time by his parents.

"clang!"

The straight cane was once again blocked by the invisible "wall". This time, Cole Dorian suddenly twisted the handle of the cane, and a beam of silver light popped out from the side of the cane and struck Morris' head.

"It's not a cane sword but a cane spear - you didn't expect that?!"

Morris, who was standing sideways, managed to dodge the falling blade, and Cole Dorian, who was laughing wildly, rushed forward with a spear in one hand and a revolver in the other, his rapid figure like lightning.

This is the true strength of the "Holy Grail Knight" genius Cole - as long as he is not injured, he has almost twice the physical strength of an ordinary person's peak state.

For a few breaths, Morris, who was close to a fifth-level spell caster under the influence of the potion, was forced by the inferior inquisitor into a situation where he could only dodge desperately and had no time to cast spells.

"This is also the sorrow of all spellcasters except for a very small number of blood mages." Mace Honard sighed:

"Without the power of blood, we are always at an absolute disadvantage in terms of physical strength - even if we have super reaction speed and the power to distort reality and spy on people's hearts, we cannot make our bodies stronger."

Anson, who kept a stiff smile, twitched his throat forcefully.

"boom!"

The dark flames bloomed again. Cole Dorian, who had almost completed the dodge in ten seconds, and Lawrence behind him, pulled the trigger at the same time. Twelve lead bullets that were enough to blow off a human head exploded with the roar of the dragon, tearing the flames into pieces. Countless fragments.

This time, Morris, who was desperately trying to dodge, was unable to complete the spell - he had run out of magic.

Conjurers need to prepare in advance to cast spells, and as an ordinary elf ambassador, it is impossible to prepare dozens or hundreds of magic spells for a life-and-death battle that only occurs with a one-in-10,000 chance. The black flame that just exploded is his last resort. of "inventory".

A conjurer without magic is just an ordinary person with a particularly good sense of distance. It is impossible to have a speed faster than a gifted person and bullets.

"Plop!"

Morris, who was shot through the abdominal cavity by a lead bullet, collapsed on the ground. Lawrence, gasping softly, came to his side and put the "dagger" on his head.

"Maurice Périgord," lamented Lawrence, with a hoarse voice:

"I know nothing about your past, but no matter what happened, you were just a used, poor elf. You became a pawn that was used on the road of no return for the Old Gods, which led to the inevitable fate."

"I, Laurence Bernat, in the name of the Inquisition and the authority given to me by the Ring of Order, hereby declare: Your fall, this is..."

"Beep——!!!"

The ominous inquisitor's whistle sounded like a devil's howl, exploding over the castle!