Chapter 150: Master of the White Dragon Throne (5)
Jurgen Ferdinand had descended into the dungeon through the gates of Varehein City.
Once inside, he injected a serum infused with the core essence of a monster wave.
The targets were the Monster Lords residing on the 30th, 40th, 50th, and 60th floors.
This serum was a significantly improved version compared to earlier prototypes, requiring a longer time to fully take control of its host.
However, once the serum took effect, the infected Monster Lord would transmit madness and hatred for humans to other monsters.
Although it fell short of the raw power of an actual monster wave core, its utility was undeniable.
‘And on the 70th floor lies a Dragon, the Monster Lord of Lords. If I can inject it, I could obliterate Varehein City.’
Even for a 9th-circle master like Jurgen, this was an immensely dangerous endeavor.
A single mistake could result in grave injury or death, yet he had resolved to see it through. The potential reward was far too significant to abandon.
With his mind set, Jurgen descended to the 61st floor. But it wasn’t long before he began to regret his decision.
—
“Jurgen Ferdinand!”
Just as he felt the space around him ripple, a familiar voice rang in his ears.
Jurgen instantly recognized that this wasn’t all he had to worry about.
Shrrrk!
A massive force surged toward him.
With no time to spare, Jurgen drew his sword, channeling his innate ability, Wave Domination, and enveloping his blade, Ashblond, in an aura blade.
He swung his sword with all his might to intercept the incoming attack.
BOOOOM!
“Urgh!”
Though he managed to block the strike, the sheer force still sent him stumbling backward.
Barely.
Had he been a fraction slower or weaker, the blow would have sent him flying outright.
However, being overpowered wasn’t the most shocking part.
What truly rattled him was the realization that Martin Adalbert was here.
‘Why is he here? He should be focusing on becoming the family head!’
For the direct heirs of any of the three great noble families, becoming the head of their house was their ultimate goal.
To achieve this, they were expected to pour every ounce of their time and energy into preparation and competition.
Martin was finally on the cusp of realizing that dream—so what in the world was he doing here?
The situation defied all logic, leaving Jurgen momentarily paralyzed by disbelief.
But he couldn’t afford to remain stunned.
Martin was already a significant threat, but there was also the undeniable presence of another 9th-circle master nearby.
Based on the circumstances, it could only be Barthez, the elder of the elven village.
If Barthez joined the fray, even escaping would become impossible.
Of course, escaping from Martin alone wouldn’t be easy either.
Martin could teleport, making it nearly impossible to evade him without inflicting significant damage.
However, dealing a serious blow to a 9th-circle opponent in a short amount of time was an almost insurmountable challenge.
‘At least I came prepared with plenty of artifacts… but even using them against him won’t be easy.’
Finding an opening to utilize his artifacts against someone of Martin’s caliber was another daunting hurdle.
—
“A Ferdinand heir sneaking around with suspicious syringes—what an obvious invitation to trouble!” Martin exclaimed, laughing loudly.
Almost simultaneously, Martin swung the holy sword Clariel, sending a golden arc of energy hurtling toward Jurgen.
Grit.
Jurgen gritted his teeth.
The sheer force emanating from the golden slash sent a chill through his entire body.
Still, he mustered all his strength, swinging Ashblond to counter Martin’s attack.
BOOOOM!
Golden energy clashed with the aura blade wrapped around Ashblond, scattering sparks like fireworks.
‘Overpowered again?!’
Jurgen’s stance was slightly disrupted from the previous clash, but this time he had poured even greater strength into his counter.
Yet, the force behind Martin’s attack was overwhelming, driving Jurgen back and carving deep grooves into the ground beneath his feet.
He was completely outmatched in terms of raw power.
‘Even if his mana reserves exceed mine, the difference shouldn’t be this stark between two 9th-circle masters.’
Although shaken, Jurgen forced himself to remain calm.
As he studied Martin, it didn’t take long for him to notice something.
Martin’s immense power wasn’t solely his own—Clariel itself was brimming with a terrifying force.
“A so-called 9th-circle master relying on the performance of a sword. Don’t you feel any shame?” Jurgen sneered.
“I think shame lies with someone sneaking into another’s domain to play with dubious concoctions. As a fellow heir of a great noble family, I’m embarrassed on your behalf,” Martin retorted, a mocking smirk on his lips.
“Now I see! You were the one behind the rampage of the Monster Lord on the 50th floor, weren’t you? What will the Imperial Court and the Ferdinand family think when I reveal this? I’m eager to find out!”
With those words, Martin swung Clariel again, unleashing a barrage of golden slashes that rained down indiscriminately.
“Do you think I’ll just keep taking this?”
Jurgen activated Wave Domination, a pure destructive force often hailed as the strongest among innate abilities.
Combining his innate ability with his aura blade, Jurgen unleashed a sharp, concentrated slash.
Shrrrk!
The wave-like strike of Ashblond tore through Martin’s golden slashes, shredding them effortlessly.
But Jurgen couldn’t celebrate.
Martin had teleported, reappearing right in front of him.
Clariel’s blade came crashing down toward his chest with terrifying speed.
Jurgen, in a desperate bid to block the strike, thrust his sword forward with all his might.
The exertion caused his muscles to tear, but he ignored the pain.
BOOOOOM!
The clash produced a thunderous explosion, sending shards of aura blade scattering in every direction.
A powerful shockwave rippled outward, shaking the very ground.
“Kuhk!”
Jurgen narrowly avoided having his heart pierced. But that was as far as his luck went.
Once again, he was forced back, his body carving a deep groove into the ground, and his stance completely collapsed.
But Martin didn’t allow him any time to recover. Sensing an opportunity, Martin relentlessly shifted his sword to target Jurgen’s vital points.
—
“Duke Ferdinand is a man of honor! He swore he wouldn’t touch me until the Klaus family was wiped out! There’s no way he’d break that promise, so it must have been the First Prince who ordered this nonsense! Am I wrong?”
Even as he unleashed a flurry of strikes, Martin continued speaking, his voice loud and mocking.
Jurgen’s face twisted further. The disparity between the two was clear—Martin had the leisure to attack and taunt simultaneously, while Jurgen was entirely consumed by defending himself.
‘If only he didn’t have that damned sword!’
Jurgen’s blade, Ashblond, was one of the finest divine swords in existence. But against Martin’s Clariel, it fell woefully short.
—
“The Adalbert family distinguished itself in this civil war by suppressing the Second Prince’s faction! Many lives were sacrificed in loyalty to the Empire. And now, the heir to the throne conspires in the shadows? This treachery is disgraceful!”
Jurgen’s frustration only deepened at Martin’s words.
The power disparity was maddening enough, but what stung more was that Jurgen couldn’t refute Martin’s accusations.
The Adalbert family had not yet rebelled; their involvement in the war was born from loyalty, not ambition.
Everything Jurgen and the First Prince feared was rooted in speculation. Their distrust stemmed from the simple truth: if Martin acted when the Imperial family and the other noble houses were weakened, the balance of power would collapse.
—
“Say something, Jurgen! If you can defend yourself, let’s hear it!”
Martin’s taunts continued, but Jurgen stayed silent. It wasn’t just that defending his actions was impossible—he simply had no room to respond.
The space around him was bathed in golden radiance, illuminated by Martin’s overwhelming strikes. He knew the moment he let his guard down, he’d be torn apart by those golden slashes.
‘And Barthez is approaching as well…’
He had to escape before the elven elder arrived. But how?
Merely defending against Martin was already a monumental task. Using an artifact to create an opening for escape was out of the question.
—
“I’ll capture you and hold the Imperial family accountable! I can’t wait to see how the First Prince reacts!”
Hearing the mention of the First Prince, Jurgen’s eyes flashed with intensity.
Martin, seemingly worked up with excitement, trembled slightly. That tiny lapse in composure—fleeting as it was—did not go unnoticed by Jurgen.
The moment was brief, but it was all Jurgen needed.
Fending off Martin’s strike, he poured mana into his left arm, concentrating it to the limit.
And then, he detonated it.
—
BOOOOOM!
‘Not yet!’
Leveraging his innate ability, Wave Domination, Jurgen harnessed the shockwaves from the explosion, amplifying their force to disrupt Martin’s offensive.
The blast neutralized Martin’s golden slashes, forcing him to focus on defense.
This brief opening was all Jurgen needed. Activating an artifact concealed in his pocket, he vanished into a rift in space.
Through a warp spell, Jurgen ascended to an upper floor, escaping Martin’s clutches.
However, in his desperate flight, he failed to notice one critical detail—the faint smile playing on Martin’s lips as he watched him flee.
—
After Jurgen’s Escape
Not long after Jurgen disappeared, Barthez approached Martin.
“You let him go on purpose, didn’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“He’s a 9th-circle master and a direct threat to you. Killing him when you had the chance would’ve been in your best interest, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re absolutely correct, Great Elder. But Jurgen can’t die yet. If he dies now, the balance between the Ferdinand and Klaus families will collapse.”
A 9th-circle master was an irreplaceable asset. If Jurgen were killed, the Ferdinand family’s strength would be severely diminished.
Martin knew that Werner von Klaus, the head of the Klaus family, had the ability to exploit such a power vacuum and strike a decisive blow against the Ferdinands.
—
“While I want the Klaus family to win, I don’t want it to be a landslide. Both sides need to keep fighting for as long as possible, exhausting their strength in the process.”
“A smart strategy. And I assume you gained something else out of this encounter?”
Martin nodded leisurely, his gaze falling to the spot where Jurgen had stood moments earlier.
There, lying on the ground, was a syringe.
—
“What’s that?”
“I slashed his pocket while pressuring him. He was too preoccupied with defending himself to notice.”
With a wave of Martin’s hand, the syringe floated into the air and came to him.
“Artificially triggering a monster wave is as vile an act as forcing someone to commit suicide—if not worse.”
“I agree.”
“Now I have leverage over the First Prince. With this evidence, I can expose him at any time, and when I do, his political career will be over.”
“Are you going to reveal it immediately?”
“Not yet. If I act now, the only one who benefits is the First Princess. I’ll wait and let the situation play out naturally.”
With this, Martin could now ascend to the position of family head without worry.
—
“Of course, I’ll need to clean up the mess Jurgen left behind first.”
The fact that Jurgen had brought the syringe here meant he had already used it on the Monster Lords of the upper floors.
“I’ll need your help cleaning this up, Great Elder.”
“It’s no trouble. With our kin now living in Varehein City, preventing a monster wave is in all our interests.”
Barthez’s tone was calm and resolute.
With that, the two 9th-circle masters quickened their pace, preparing to ascend and neutralize the chaos Jurgen had sown.