Chapter 379: The Midnight King

A deep, frigid voice echoed through the bowels of the castle, vibrating across the walls as if the stone itself were speaking. Even with the torches lit, their light seemed to die before reaching the shadows. The flames flickered weakly, swallowed by the black stone that devoured every glimmer of warmth. This place didn’t want to be seen, only felt.

“I am the one who sees all. I am the King. Come to me in the throne room, and I will deliver the Final Judgment.”

The words didn’t just echo; they sank. The sound hit their minds like a weight, leaving a ringing stillness in its wake. No one spoke. The group exchanged quick glances, tension etched into every face. The mere thought that the Midnight King might be listening, watching, was enough to crack whatever sense of safety they had left.

Should they talk strategy? Choose positions?

“Is that really him?” Allison asked, her tone wary.

They all turned toward the corridor ahead, a long, lightless passage that stretched into shadow, touched only by the faint glow of distant torches.

“Then where’s the Witch?” Mason whispered.

Luke drew in a slow breath. His Demon Perception was pushed to its limit. None of them could rule out the possibility of invisible enemies stalking the edges of their senses. They stood in a tight circle, backs pressed together, reacting to every flicker, every faint scrape of metal or fabric.

“She’ll be with the King,” Erza said quietly, her voice steady but cold. Her grip tightened on the scythe. “Two bosses, side by side.”

Luke glanced at the timer hovering faintly before him.

[Estimated Time Until End: 01 hour : 31 minutes : 37 seconds]

They had only a short window to defeat both bosses, find the portal somewhere inside the castle, and escort eighteen hundred people safely through it back to Earth. He was nervous, tense, sweating. Luke rarely got this wound up during battles, but the stakes had never been higher. Everything would depend on him landing that arrow on the King, who they feared might be a powerful Rank D monster.

The thought lingered in Luke’s mind: he could miss, or the monster might summon some kind of magical barrier to block the shot.

The timing had to be perfect. They already knew that, depending on how things unfolded, someone might have to distract the King in combat long enough for Luke to take the shot. But now, things were taking an even more uncertain turn. Should they accept the invitation?

“We don’t have a choice,” Allison murmured.

He nodded once, jaw tight. The tension around them thickened, electric and alive. They moved. Slow, deliberate steps echoed across the ancient floor. The corridor ahead stretched like an endless tunnel, consumed by shadow. The torches lining the walls burned softly, their glow trembling across the slick, dark stone. The silence wasn’t empty; it was listening.

Their boots struck the floor in a rhythm too quiet, too careful. Each step seemed to come back a heartbeat late, the castle mocking them with its own distorted echo.

Sealed doors lined the passage. Others hung half-open, revealing thin slivers of black beyond, spaces that breathed, damp and cold, as if something inside waited for the right moment to move.

“We’re walking straight into his trap,” Luke murmured.

“Like flies into a web,” Erza replied, her scythe glinting softly as she held it close. “Let’s see what kind of spider waits at the center.”

Luke stood silent for a long moment, thoughts racing. What if they ran? They could try circling the castle, look for a window, a side passage, anything. But the fortress stretched into the abyss itself, endless, without edges, as if it had been carved out of the void. And even if he found an opening, it wouldn’t matter. The King’s voice had already proven he knew exactly where they were.

Still, the thought lingered. He could try a long-range shot, an arrow straight to the throne before stepping inside. A clean, silent kill. But some instinct warned him it would be useless. Nothing in this place was ever that simple. Beneath his layers of clothing, he felt Franky stir. The serpent slid up his shoulder, cool scales brushing against his skin. Part of its body slipped out through the collar, narrow eyes gleaming as it peered down the corridor, mirroring his own unease.

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The tension was suffocating. They pressed forward. The corridor stretched endlessly until finally it opened into a colossal double door, already ajar. Beyond it waited a faint blue glow. Inside, torches burned with ghostly flames that gave no warmth, casting a sickly light that barely fought the shadows. The air smelled of damp stone and something metallic, something ancient, like blood that had never dried.

Luke hesitated. One hand gripped his kukri, the other brushed the storage pendant. The bow pulsed faintly within its pocket dimension, as if it could sense what awaited them. Drawing it now would mean giving away his intent.

He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a second, forcing calm. His mind had to be still, like a lake without ripples. With no other choice, they stepped across the threshold. The moment their feet touched the floor, dozens of torches flared to life in a chain reaction, flooding the hall with sudden light.

Everyone flinched. What stood before them was overwhelming.

A vast circular chamber, built entirely of black stone, stretched upward into darkness so deep the ceiling couldn’t be seen. A faded red carpet cut straight through the center, leading to the heart of the room. From above, a golden chandelier hung impossibly high, holding candles of blue flame that burned almost soundlessly.