Devil Gambit-Chapter 62 : The Castle’s Legacy

In Kaela’s mind, a single thought looped quietly:

We’re safe now.

The Oni — the one who had hunted her for her eyes — was dead. Slain by Dirga with terrifying ease.

But deep down, she knew better.

Hell doesn’t let anything go.

If that creature wanted her God Eyes, others surely would too.

And for now... the safest place in Hell wasn’t a fortress.

It was Dirga.

"I read about this castle once," Kaela said, her voice soft as her eyes scanned the towering, dust-choked ceilings. Her golden irises reflected flickers of dying candlelight, pulsing faintly like stars on the verge of collapse.

"The one hidden deep in the Dusk Forest."

Dirga’s brows furrowed. "This place has a name?"

Kaela gave a small nod. "They call it the Castle in the Dusk."

Dirga exhaled slowly.

Figures.

Everything about this forest was shrouded in twilight — from the blackened trees to the soil that drank light like a sponge. It felt like the world had hit pause at dusk... and never resumed.

"It’s called that because it’s always like this," Kaela continued. "The shadows never move. The light never comes. Everything — the leaves, the trees, the air — feels stuck in a moment of dying sun. That’s why dark creatures flock here."

Her tone shifted — voice a little more hushed, almost trembling.

"And one of them was... Dracula."

Dirga blinked. The name landed with a strange weight.

"Wait. Dracula? Like the vampire?"

"Dracula the Devil," Saelari whispered, her glowing blue skin dimming as her confidence wavered.

Theryn’s predator-like golden eyes widened. "The Numbered Devil."

Dirga tensed.

That term. He remembered it.

Sasa had mentioned them.

The Devil King.

The Four Horsemen.

Then the Thirteen Devils — a hierarchy named after a playing deck.

Ace, King, Queen, Jack... down to Ten, Nine, Eight... all the way to Two.

Each rank stronger than entire worlds.

If Dracula was one of them...

Then this castle wasn’t just creepy.

It was cursed.

"But you can relax," Kaela added quickly, noticing the tension rising. "Dracula’s long gone. After he became the Number 2 of Hearts, he moved on. This place was abandoned... or handed down."

"Handed down?" Dirga asked, folding his arms. His voice was low, cautious.

Kaela nodded. "That’s what the legends say. He gave this castle to one of his Followers."

Dirga narrowed his gaze. "Follower? You mean like a servant?"

"Not quite. More like... someone he empowered."

She turned toward him, the gold in her eyes gleaming like liquid fire.

"The Devils aren’t normal beings. Their power system is different — Conceptual. That’s what makes them so terrifying."

"Conceptual?" Saelari echoed, frowning.

"Yes," Kaela said, her tone quiet but firm. "They manipulate Concepts — primal truths of reality. They refine Zarion into energy that reflects who they are. That’s why no two Devils are ever alike."

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.

"Their power doesn’t follow the world’s laws... it becomes the law."

Silence followed.

"And when they grow strong enough," she continued, "they can share fragments of that Concept. To grant power. To make Followers."

Dirga’s breath caught.

Lucian.

He remembered the overwhelming pressure that man radiated — like a storm wrapped in calm.

Too strong. Too composed. Too sharp to be merely human.

A Follower Of Asura.

Dirga had defeated him.

Barely.

And only because Lucian had burned through his own soul — consuming himself to grow stronger but fading with each second.

That fight wasn’t won through power alone.

It was survival. A battle of endurance.

A ticking clock where Dirga outlasted the inevitable.

He clenched his fist. The memory still carved into his bones.

This castle...

It wouldn’t be like Oru’Zek — the Oni who fought with brute strength and rage.

No.

This was different.

More dangerous.

More refined.

More devil.

"I hope we’re lucky," Kaela murmured. "According to the book I read, the Follower who inherited this place... they were punished. By someone. Their power sealed, and they were put into a deep sleep."

She glanced upward.

"But that was centuries ago. They might still be asleep — but the castle’s defenses might remain active."

Dirga didn’t like that word.

"Defenses?"

He glanced around. The silence here wasn’t just ancient. It felt enforced. Like something bigger, unseen, was watching.

"If that’s true... how did we even get in?" he asked.

Kaela shrugged. "Maybe the defenses only activate once the heart of the castle is disturbed. Or maybe we triggered something already."

Dirga’s mind spun with possibilities.

Could killing the Follower deactivate the castle? Or would it trap them further?

"So let’s say the castle is locked up," Dirga said, "what’s our move?"

"Simple," Kaela said. "We kill the Follower."

"Where are they?"

She pointed upward, her golden eyes glowing. "Top floor. At the peak of the castle."

Dirga followed her gesture with his gaze. Towers coiled into the heavens like jagged black thorns, scraping a blood-red sky.

It wasn’t a bad plan, honestly.

He’d already considered climbing to the top — scouting for a town or settlement from above. Maybe even using a glider spell to cross the forest faster than wandering on foot.

Risky... especially with three passengers.

But right now?

The priority was survival.

And ending whatever power still pulsed at this castle’s heart.

"Alright then," Dirga said, rolling his shoulder. Crimson Core floated behind him, shifting faintly. "Let’s go wake up the sleeping monster."

"Wait." Saelari’s voice cut through, soft but exhausted. "We’ve been running since yesterday."

Theryn nodded quietly. Her dark gray skin looked even more pale in the low light, and even Kaela’s golden eyes had dulled with fatigue.

Dirga glanced at them.

They were worn out.

Even if they could fight, their stamina had limits.

He sighed. "You’re right. Let’s head to the second floor. We’ll camp there."

"Fine by me." Saelari gave a small smile.

"Oh, wait—our gear," Dirga added. "Where’s the backpack?"

Without a word, Saelari lifted her palm. A rune circle bloomed in soft blue light, and fwoosh — the backpack reappeared on her back like a magician’s trick.

"This one?" she said, smug.

Dirga chuckled. "Yeah, okay. You win." ƒreewebɳovel.com

They continued through the winding hallways of the gothic fortress. The deeper they walked, the more surreal it became — stained glass murals of devils, portraits whose eyes moved, and carpets that muffled even the thought of a step.

A few more bat-creatures ambushed them in the dark, but with Dirga leading, none even got close. He dispatched them in seconds, his weapon shifting with his will.

Eventually, they found a spiral staircase wrapped around a cracked obsidian pillar. It led to the upper floor, quiet and colder.

The first room they checked was perfect.

Dirga opened the door cautiously — half-expecting a monster — but instead, found a dim, hollow space lined with dusty furniture and velvet drapes.

"Do the magic," Dirga said to Saelari.

She nodded, and once more, her runes glowed as the enchanted backpack unfolded and twisted — transforming into the tent they used before. Warm, quiet, and magically sealed from outside threats.

Inside, four sleeping bags waited, neatly arranged.

Dirga sighed in relief.

"Get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow... we go to the top."

And just like that, they closed their eyes — in the heart of the Devil’s Castle.

But far above them... something began to stir.

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