The Oracle of the Villainous Baby - Chapter 117

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 117
“Hmm… Where could she have hidden it?”
Belial entered Bunny’s adorably decorated room and murmured softly to himself, his eyes rolling lazily about.
It seemed that when the summoned Phoenix was away, it was typically kept by the head of the Clan.
In any case, Bunny was growing properly as the Demon King’s seed.
The problem was that there were no signs of awakening whatsoever. As if something were blocking that awakening.
‘Or perhaps she simply doesn’t wish for it.’
But if that were the case, shouldn’t she relinquish her position as Demon King?
All this time, Belial had been carefully observing Bunny’s movements. And there was something peculiar about them.
‘Prophecy…’
Especially that ability.
Prophecy was an ability the Demon King did not possess. And Belial remembered a nameless lower Demon Clan Member who wielded such an ability openly.
“What else did you leave behind for our precious seed?”
A lower Demon Clan Member who had caught the eyes of the higher ranks and was finally selected as the nanny of the next Demon King…
“Luriel.”
Luriel was weaker than anyone. Yet at the same time, she was a being that the Demon Clan—who believed only in strength and innate bloodline—could not help but love.
That bold woman who had discovered a fragment of the heart that yearned for humanity, and created an order and law in the Demon Realm just like in the Human Realm.
“But things will no longer go as you wished.”
Being swayed by the remnants she left behind ends here.
As Belial slowly surveyed the surroundings, he discovered a gray rabbit doll lying neatly on the bed, and he walked slowly toward it, grasping the doll’s head and lifting it carelessly.
He noticed a small distortion of magical power in the rabbit’s belly, and with a smirk, he thrust his hand inside.
The small rift in magical power resembled a pouch, but it was not an actual pocket on the rabbit. The one who created this doll had simply made it appear that way.
As he inserted his hand, he felt a vast subspace within.
He began to search for something by moving his hand about.
Nothing.
Soon something caught at his fingertips.
“Found it.”
Crackle—!!
Belial pulled out an old leather notebook, heedless of the terrible sparks that burned his hand, a cruel smile spreading across his lips.
“…Yes, so you hid something like this here.”
Belial licked his lower lip lightly.
Crackle, crackle—!
Even as his hand turned blackened by the savage sparks, Belial paid no mind and attempted to open the notebook wide.
Crackle! Crackle!
But the more he applied his hand, the more ferocious the sparks became.
Belial’s eyes narrowed.
Belial attempted to drive away the energy using his own magical power, but the notebook’s rejection was far more violent.
It was strange. By his knowledge, Luriel was not a Demon Clan Member with this level of capability.
She was not skilled enough to construct and employ magic of this magnitude.
To construct something of this level, one would need to be skilled enough to rival Belial, who was among the handful of most powerful in the Demon Realm.
“All you could ever manage was lower-tier magic and that bizarre prophetic ability of yours… yet how are you resisting and refusing like this?”
How could she possibly defy him with such force?
Belial’s eyes narrowed to slits as he released his grip, and the notebook tumbled onto the bed.
Scorching steam rose from his palm. He shook his hand lightly against the billowing heat, his eyes narrowing further.
‘But there is one way.’
A method by which even a lower-tier Demon Clan Member could wield power surpassing all others—save the Demon King herself.
Life.
Nothing created in this world possessed greater power than that.
Life, once created, carried boundless strength within itself.
In other words, there was only one way to bridge the gap of birth: to offer one’s life as the price.
Magic forged through the sacrifice of one’s own life possessed tremendous power in itself—so formidable that no countermeasure existed unless one poured in an equivalent life force.
Only the Demon King, heir to their god and creator, could stand against such power.
“Did you… use your life as the price?”
Belial’s slender, elongated fingers brushed against the notebook.
Crackle!
Once again, a defiant spark erupted.
‘Yes, that’s it.’
Only after arriving at the answer did I sense the faint magical energy of the Young Lady emanating from the notebook.
He slowly dragged his hand across his face, then smiled wickedly.
“I wondered where you’d gone, yet you were right under my nose all along.”
Belial reached out again, seizing the notebook firmly.
Crackle-crackle-crackle!
Violent sparks erupted from the notebook once more.
Belial ground his teeth, his eyes narrowing even further.
“Just as you deceived me… are you now deceiving your own master as well? How delighted our King would be to learn of this.”
Crackle….
At his sinister, whispered words, the sparks diminished slightly.
“I thought it was merely a notebook left behind as a gift, but in truth… it was a relic forged by grinding away life itself.”
Crackle….
“What exactly are you whispering about, that our King remains intoxicated by childish games, nestled in the embrace of humans?”
Belial brought the notebook close to his face, speaking with subtle menace, his eyes narrowing.
Crackle, crackle!
Though the sparks intensified, Belial’s expression remained unmoved as he continued with ease.
“Our King has already perfected her vessel as the Demon King. She is no longer so weak as to have her life threatened by demonic energy. It may cause some pain at first, but it is necessary. That is… no, she shall become a magnificent sovereign.”
Crackle-crackle-crackle!
Despite the violent sparks, Belial’s sharp fangs protruded slightly.
The Man burst into laughter.
Like one lost in rapture, he suddenly spread both arms wide and threw his head back.
“At last, it is time for our god to trample upon the footsteps of the hero who painted the world in peace. With the insignificant Human Realm beneath her feet, it is time for us to emerge beyond this world. Night shall descend upon the sky, and it shall be humans who crawl into the underground.”
Belial spoke, spreading wide the hand that held the notebook.
He stared at the notebook floating in midair before continuing, his voice cold and deliberate.
“This nauseating farce of peace ends now.”
The room fell silent except for the crackling of sparks and Belial’s voice.
“Long ago, the humans who stole our power founded a nation and branded the Demon Clan as evil. They condemned the mixing of Demon Clan blood with their own. Centuries passed, and now a descendant of those humans has been born into the Demon Clan’s embrace.”
A half-blood of Demon and human.
Such miraculous beings, rare even in birth, are born possessing power that transcends both human and Demon Clan alike.
In human reckoning, in those distant ages when the world still basked in peace and maintained its balance, there came a day.
That half-blood, despising the Demon Clan member who killed their mother, became a hero who founded a nation and drove the Demon Clan away. The Demon King of that era accepted the wishes of her motherless child and withdrew into the Underground World.
“Do you truly believe hiding and protecting the King will change anything? Luriel.”
Belial posed the question softly toward the floating notebook.
The sparks crackled and diminished slightly once more.
Belial’s eyes narrowed.
“No, you won’t be able to protect anything. What’s truly needed for the Demon King’s awakening is ultimately great despair. Suppressing the demonic energy like this will only cause it to explode far more catastrophically later.”
Crackle… crack!
The sparks dwindled further at Belial’s words.
“You don’t understand, but the Young Master will endure unimaginably difficult times ahead.”
“…So you’re saying you’ll leave?”
“You can survive without me, but the Young Master cannot. I’m sorry.”
Belial gazed at the diminishing sparks, his eyes narrowing as he slowly opened his mouth.
“You once said that our King would one day kill the most precious thing with their own hands. You also said you didn’t want your beloved ‘Young Master’ to fall into that despair.”
His words flowed with sharp thorns, accompanied by a smile both beautiful and cruel.
“If you truly meant that, you should never have asked me to come here. You should never have sent the King to this place.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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