Damn, I Have to Marry the Strongest Antagonist at the Start? - Chapter 557

Chapter 557: Chapter7-The Curse of the Dark Altar
The “Curse of the Netherlord”—a forbidden spell feared and known across the entire continent.

It was the ultimate curse from which even the mightiest of beings would flee in terror. Once cast, it was nearly incurable—an insidious affliction capable of breaking even the strongest wills. Even a grand archmage, a paragon of magical mastery, would find all mana sealed away, their boundless magical reserves rendered utterly useless.

When the curse erupted, the victim would bleed from every orifice, their flesh would rot, and their soul would disintegrate—an end so horrifying it defied imagination.

And such a curse could only be cast by one person—the High Priest of the Dark Altar.

It was through this very spell that the Dark Altar instilled dread across the lands, a name spoken only in whispers.

Leonchi stood in heavy silence for a long time. Finally, he sighed deeply, a heavy weariness etched across his face.

“Sigh… The ‘Curse of the Netherlord’ is ever-shifting in its form. Even the slightest misstep in deciphering it would render all efforts futile. A hair’s deviation leads to a chasm of failure.”

“I… I am not confident. Unless we can find the caster and extract the exact formula, there is no way to neutralize this curse.”

Hearing this, Ursula stumbled backward, her face drained of all color.

“H-How could this be…? Even you, High Priest, are helpless before it?”

“My mentor never provoked the Dark Altar… Why would he be targeted by such a curse?”

But that was a question no one could answer.

Empress Yevna let out a mournful sigh as well. If even Leonchi could not undo the curse, then there might be no one in this world capable of saving Eldritch.

As for capturing the caster?

The Dark High Priest was himself a grand archmage, a wielder of fearsome dark magic and voodoo arts. His skills were unpredictable, bordering on demonic.

Unless four or five grand archmage-level powerhouses joined forces, who could possibly subdue such a terrifying figure?

And even then, if they could truly capture the Dark High Priest—Eldritch didn’t have the time to wait.

“Master Leonchi… Please, think of another way. My mentor is crucial to the Empire’s stability!”

“If he perishes, the entire Empire will be thrown into chaos!”

Yevna understood better than anyone how vital grand archmage Eldritch was.

He wasn’t just her strongest protector—he had been the mentor of two generations of royalty, fiercely loyal to the throne.

If they lost this pillar, how could she possibly stand against her elder brother, the Thunder Knight Commander?

And if she were to lose her crown… how could her husband Owen still serve as her consort?

Sure, her husband was handsome beyond compare, but… he couldn’t exactly become the Thunder Knight Commander’s page, could he?

Leonchi remained silent for a long time, then slowly shook his head.

“Ah… You think I don’t want to save the old rascal? He’s one of my dearest friends. There are few left in this world who can still share a drink with me in peace.”

“But the chances of success… are just too low. If I try to purify the curse with holy magic, I might only hasten its eruption!”

“I daresay my research in holy magic is unmatched on this continent. I’ve battled the Dark Altar for decades—he curses, I lift. Over and over.”

“But in the end… I must admit defeat.”

“If the curse had manifested ten days earlier, perhaps I could have managed. But now… it has already penetrated the soul. There’s little hope left.”

His words cast a shadow over the entire room.

The dying Eldritch struggled to sit up, forcing a bitter smile at the Empress.

“Your Majesty… don’t waste your efforts. This old man… likely won’t see the end of the day.”

“Instead of toiling in vain… give me a bottle of good wine. Let me share a few last drinks with this old bastard. Let me go out with a bit of style.”

Seeing Eldritch in such a state, the Empress and Ursula felt as though their hearts were being torn apart.

“Is there… truly no way left? Must I just stand here, powerless, and watch my mentor pass away?”

The air inside the wooden cabin was thick with despair, heavy as lead.

Leonchi uncorked a bottle of medicinal wine and poured Eldritch a cup with his own hands.

The two old men drank in silence.

Just when all hope seemed lost, a small voice spoke up.

“Um… Big sister… Elena might be able to help Grandpa.”

Startled, everyone turned to the source of the voice, eyes wide in disbelief.

It was the little girl, Elena, holding a bottle of pitch-black liquid.

“Elena… you… you can help?” the Empress asked.

“Mhm!” Elena nodded earnestly. “My daddy made a ‘Universal Antidote’! I think… it can definitely cure a little curse like this!”

She held up the potion high above her head, puffing out her undeveloped chest with pride. Her face glowed with confidence.

Finally! She’d waited so long for a chance to speak!

And this three-hundred-year-old grandpa actually dared to call himself a master of alchemy? Couldn’t even handle a small curse? Shameless!

Her daddy, on the other hand—modest and humble. Clearly the greatest in every field, yet never once let her show off!

Seeing the black potion in Elena’s hand, the Empress and others began to feel a flicker of hope again.

All eyes turned to Leonchi.

Understanding their gaze, Leonchi took the bottle from Elena and examined it…

Then almost choked on his wine.

He looked at Elena, torn between laughter and tears.

“This… This isn’t an antidote at all! It doesn’t even qualify as a basic potion. It’s just stove ash mixed with salty mud and a bit of beetroot juice.”

“Little girl… Your father isn’t just a vet, is he? He’s also a bricklayer, I’d wager. These mud pellets are remarkably well-rounded!”

He shook the bottle, watching the black clumps swirl inside with exasperation.

Elena snatched the bottle back indignantly, clutching it to her chest like a precious treasure.

“That’s not true! Whenever I got sick as a kid, Daddy would always use this to make me better! He told me it could cure any curse in the world!”

Leonchi sighed, shaking his head.

“That was your father humoring you. Stove ash does have some medicinal properties, sure—but at best, it might cure a mild stomachache. It can’t undo a curse!”

“Alright, little one. Don’t cause more trouble. Old Eldritch doesn’t have much time left. Let me enjoy a few more drinks with him.”

Elena opened her mouth to argue, but the Empress gently pulled her aside again.

Hope extinguished once more.

Empress Yevna and Ursula exchanged glances, their expressions clearly stating what they thought of the man who called himself Elena’s father.

To fool even his own daughter—what sort of man was that?

Elena pouted and gave a silent snort.

Hmph. I’ll sneak the potion to Grandpa later. Then they’ll see just how incredible my daddy really is!

Or… if Grandpa dies, I’ll just dig up the body and feed him the potion then.

Fortunately, Eldritch couldn’t hear her thoughts. Otherwise, he’d likely have died on the spot in rage.

After several more drinks, Eldritch’s condition worsened. His voice was weak, but he let out a bitter laugh.

“Heh… I spent my whole life defending the Empire’s borders, and now I’m cursed… without even knowing who did it. What a joke.”

“Your Majesty… If you ever have the chance… please find out who was behind this.”

The Empress nodded solemnly, her gaze sharp as ice.

“Of course. Once I discover the truth, I will exterminate their entire bloodline. I will make sure they suffer beyond death!”

Hearing this, Eldritch smiled faintly in relief.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, a voice rang out from beyond the wooden cabin.

Loud. Arrogant.

“Hahahaha! Exterminate my bloodline? I’m afraid… you won’t get the chance!”

“This secluded valley… will be your grave!”

Before anyone could react, a violent magical shockwave ripped through the cabin, tearing the roof away and exposing everyone to the outside world.