Kashchey began to split apart, phantoms peeling away from his body one after another.
Before each of these spectral forms, a shadow stood locked in a stalemate with him.
"The dead… should not insist on clinging to presence."
His voice was a cacophony — countless tones layered into one, indescribable and alien.
Yet the shadows did not yield.
The Sarkaz King must never be allowed to fall into Kashchey's grasp.
When Kazdel had collapsed, this Black Snake had played no small role in its downfall.
And now he sought to steal the Sarkaz King's authority, to seize the crown…
There was no reasoning left. Only battle remained.
The shades moved to strike.
But suddenly, as if their connections had been severed, they froze — stuck like puppets with strings cut.
So, the Contract has taken effect.
The pact Satan had forged was not merely to sustain his vessel or broaden its abilities.
Its true purpose had always been this moment.
To make the Sarkaz Kings… "crash."
Their strength flowed primarily from the Sarkaz's sea of consciousness. The Contract disrupted that channel.
Even so, Kashchey did not lower his guard. His eyes remained fixed on the shadows, inert yet still radiating dreadful pressure.
He dared not attack them directly, lest unforeseen consequences erupt.
Better to let the deadlock hold — and leave the rest to the Black Snakes outside.
---
"Looks like victory is mine, wouldn't you say~?"
Satan smiled through the fissures spreading across his body. With his face already a web of cracks, the grin was grotesque.
The living runes etched across his form had gathered into his hands, now split wide open — no longer hands at all, but an unspeakable amalgam. As though the hands of countless people had been layered and fused into one abomination.
Theresa drew forth a blade of pure shadow from nothingness and leveled it at him.
"Don't point such hollow toys at me, Princess…"
The Sarkaz King's power had already been sealed away by the Black Snakes.
This was the fruit of Satan's long, meticulous preparation.
Step by step, he closed the distance between them.
He kept one eye on the Doctor as well — only to notice the hooded figure steadily retreating, ever since Satan had entered the chamber.
…What is that one scheming?
His thoughts were a blur; with no power to read minds, the Doctor's purpose was a mystery to him.
No matter. All I need is the crown.
When Theresa swung her blade down, Satan caught it effortlessly in one hand, clamping the dark edge in his fused grip.
"…"
Something felt wrong.
This Sarkaz King… isn't she too weak?
Still holding the blade, Satan yanked her toward him, while his other hand lunged upward — reaching for the crown upon her head.
If his hand touched it, his victory would be complete.
With a single touch, Kashchey could seize the authority of the Sarkaz King.
But just then, the ambiguous figure known as the Doctor finally spoke.
"The ritual is ready, Your Highness."
---
"..."
Kashchey felt the wrongness immediately, yet he still reached for the crown.
He could not tell whether the Doctor sought only to trick him, buying Theresa a moment's reprieve.
But whether it was deceit or a bluff, it made no difference.
This might be his only chance to steal the Sarkaz King's mantle.
Next time, whether it was the Royal Court or the Senate, they would do everything in their power to obstruct him.
Now he had caught them unprepared. Next time, they would be vigilant.
---
Kashchey's hand brushed the black crown.
At once, a flood of crushing malice surged through him, nearly bringing him to his knees.
It was the wrath and hatred of the Sarkaz, a torrent seeking release.
But ever since suffering at the hands of the Seaborn Swarm, Kashchey had studied carefully how to stave off corruption.
I cannot consume you… but I can pass you along.
The tall hat upon Satan's head began to warp, exuding an unsettling aura.
It no longer looked like a hat at all.
It resembled a crown.
The Sarkaz King's crown.
---
The Doctor, who had been watching in silence, finally acted.
He began to chant, reciting Sarkaz incantations in an ancient, cryptic tongue.
"Succession… begins."
---
Of course, Kashchey never fully trusted the Doctor.
Black Snakes hidden in the chamber lunged for him — only to vanish from Kashchey's senses in an instant.
What trickery is this?
At that moment, Ascalon stirred from slumber and rose to her feet.
No — not Ascalon. A Black Snake wearing her skin.
If I cannot control your body, then let us see how Black Snake Ascalon fares in combat.
The creature charged the Doctor with terrifying speed.
But Theresa's sharp command rang out:
"Stop!"
The Black Snake's grip on Ascalon faltered.
Conflicting commands disrupted its control, leaving the woman's limbs uncoordinated. She collapsed to the floor in a heap.
The snake possessing him shifted focus, desperate to suppress Ascalon's awakening consciousness.
The Sarkaz King's shadow still lingers…
Most of the Black Snakes were occupied — some locking horns with the shades of past Sarkaz Kings in the Sarkaz consciousness, others maintaining Satan's manifested hands, and many more had never even come to Kazdel at all.
Kashchey had no strength to spare for tightening control over Ascalon.
---
Meanwhile, far from the battlefield, a Cautus child lay sleeping in a hospital bed.
Anxious medics surrounded her, their eyes fixed upon the air above her head.
There, a black crown floated silently.
---
"Theresa… you're a fool. To pass the Sarkaz King onto a child? Have you lost your damned mind?"
"Do you not understand that the crown corrodes the mind?! If you wouldn't entrust it to your brother, and would rather give it to some foreign child, then why not place it in my hands?"
"I swear to you, the Ursus Empire would have become the Sarkaz's sanctuary!"
"Look at the Wendigos, cannibals once, and yet they've become one of our empire's most trusted legions. If Ursus can accept them, then why not the rest of your kind?"
"…Your ideals disgust me."
"…So that's it. This was your scheme all along."
"You let me touch the crown, just to dump those poisonous emotions into me — sparing that child the burden of Sarkaz hatred."
"Heh… in the end, it was my own greed that played me."
"But don't think Rhodes Island has anyone left who can stop me."
"I'll take my leave — and claim the Chimera."
---
"…Specter of Babel, you are terrifying indeed."
"To weave such a plot, to leave so many contingencies… and yet I cannot fathom why Theresis was the one who prevailed."
"Forbidden knowledge, ancient secrets… just what manner of thing are you, truly?"
"…Very well. You've convinced me."
"…Then the Contract stands."
"I'll spare the child. But when she succumbs — when she becomes nothing but the Sarkaz King's puppet — that will be the day I strike her down."
---
The merchants departed Kazdel. The devils of Kazdel vanished. The struggle of the twin kings had ended.
And in a hidden chamber, a red-haired Sarkaz man in a tailored suit idly rolled a chess piece between his fingers.
A king, crowned in black.
Flickering, half-illusory, yet real.
I've profited… but only a little.