Vile Evil Hides Under The Veil Chapter 2011: Ivor and Hettie Return

A week had passed.

On the shores of White Raven Island within Labh Salem, the morning light began to filter through a thin veil of clouds. The rhythmic sound of waves hitting the coastline filled the air, accompanied by a sharp, salty breeze.

Eren stood motionless upon a high cliff edge, overlooking the modest harbor with his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

Below his vantage point, a magnificent black vessel had recently dropped anchor at the pier. Eerie runes were etched into its hull, pulsing with a soft, rhythmic glow. The ship’s sails, colored in shades of dark emerald and tarnished gold, flapped gently in the maritime wind. Positioned at the prow was a figure Eren recognized instantly, despite the years of separation.

"Ivor Ossan," Eren whispered, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You actually showed up."

Ivor’s appearance remained largely unchanged since their days in Anfang, though his presence had grown significantly more lethal. His hair had grown long enough to be tied back loosely, and his gaze held a new, razor-sharp focus. His golden armor radiated in the sunlight, the complex engravings upon it serving as silent testaments to countless bloody encounters.

Standing behind him was a woman characterized by her shimmering hair and porcelain skin. Her eyes emitted a faint light, her mana clearly heavy with the taint of demonic power. She wore robes that struck a balance between the refined grace of a witch and the chaotic aura of a fiend.

"Hettie is here too," Eren noted, his eyes narrowing with a touch of dark mirth. "It seems she is still dedicated to my service."

He reflected on the moment of her transformation. Back in Anfang, he had granted her a second chance at life on a mere impulse. Now, she had evolved into a unique entity—a hybrid of witch and fiend, tethered to his command by the indelible mark of his demonic influence.

As the ship’s gangplank descended toward the dock, Eren leaped from the cliffside. This casual descent was executed with such precision that he landed effortlessly right by the vessel’s side.

Upon Ivor’s descent, the local Rankers and merfolk guarding the area stiffened with apprehension. Though Ivor’s name meant nothing to them, his aura was suffocating—a heavy, prestigious pressure that felt like blood-stained gold, marking him as a man forged in the fires of constant combat.

When Ivor finally stepped onto the dock, his golden eyes locked onto Eren’s.

"Eren Elijah Idril," Ivor said, greeting the butcher with a visible grin. "Still breathing and still causing chaos. You realize you’re currently on your second consecutive suicide mission, don’t you?"

Eren let out a soft laugh. "It isn’t that I seek death. It’s simply that the rest of the world refuses to let me live. I’m just doing my best to return that sentiment… and the favor."

Ivor gave a knowing smirk. "I’ll make sure I’m never the one you’re returning favors to. Regardless… this one," he gestured toward Hettie, "was quite eager to see you."

Hettie approached with deliberate, slow steps. She remained silent, her gaze fixed on Eren with an expression that wavered between absolute loyalty and a hint of bitterness—likely due to his long silence before summoning them. A flash of red sparked in her eyes before she regained her composure.

"I have missed your presence, my liege. I am grateful you finally reached out to us," she stated, her voice devoid of emotion yet strangely earnest.

Eren gave a curt nod. "You should settle in on the island. The coming days are going to be incredibly chaotic."

He turned his back to them and signaled for them to follow.

"Follow me," he commanded. "We need a private place to speak. There is much to discuss—and even more to prepare."

The trio moved away from the shoreline, leaving the sound of the crashing tide behind them.

***

Eren escorted Ivor and Hettie to a secluded chamber located near the heart of the island’s main base. The room was understated, constructed from dark timber with expansive windows facing the ocean. A large meeting table occupied the center, littered with various maps and documents. The faint aroma of the sea lingered in the air.

Ivor took a seat opposite Eren, leaning his elbow on the table, while Hettie stood behind him like a silent sentinel.

"Well," Eren began, reclining in his seat. "What have you brought for me, Ivor? I’m hoping for something substantial, as I’ll need every resource you can provide."

Ivor grinned. "I brought everything I could manage," he replied. "And perhaps a bit more."

Eren raised an inquisitive eyebrow but remained quiet, allowing Ivor to elaborate.

"There are over two thousand witches and warlocks currently on that ship," Ivor explained. "Every one of them belongs to the Order of the Root. They are seasoned, faithful, and ready to act on your word."

Eren nodded, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Initially, he had estimated that Ivor could only sway around five hundred members. He had clearly underestimated Ivor’s influence and talent within the organization. Ivor possessed a unique brand of persuasion; while he rarely allowed for debate, his directness often yielded results.

Ivor wasn't finished yet.

"That is only the beginning," he added. "Three additional vessels are scheduled to arrive within the next few weeks. They are bringing another five thousand members of the Root with them."

Eren’s eyes sharpened. This news far exceeded his expectations. Witches and warlocks were distinct from standard Rankers and other mana-users, especially here in Labh Salem. Many possessed Skill Trees derived from the witch goddess, granting them a versatility that made them formidable all-rounders. It was common for a witch or warlock to possess two or three times the combat power of a peer on a different Path to Power.

Possessing seven thousand such warriors would cause his military strength to explode. It was as if Eren had asked for a simple drink only to be given a monsoon. The potential for power was palpable.

"That… that’s nearly your entire organization, isn't it?" Eren asked, looking directly at Ivor.

Ivor smirked. "Nearly? You’re being modest. It is the entire coven."

Eren leaned forward, his interest piqued. "You’re telling me the Order of the Root is relocating its entire strength to White Raven Island? I asked for assistance, but I never imagined the coven would commit this heavily to my cause."

Ivor nodded solemnly.

"There is a reason for such a move. We have already laid the groundwork. By the time the final ship docks, the entirety of the Root will be stationed here. We’ve organized them into our standard structure—over a hundred captains, all A-Rank like myself, each leading a unit of a hundred. We also have five newly ascended S-Rank captains among the ranks."

Eren drummed his fingers on the wood, contemplating the scale. "And the three late-stage S-Ranks? The coven heads—are they committed to this?"

Hettie was the one to respond this time. She stepped forward with a look of pride, clearly pleased to deliver the news.

"They will arrive with the final fleet," she confirmed. "They are prepared to dissolve the Root entirely. If you accept them, they will abandon their pasts and pledge their total allegiance to you."

Eren tilted his head. "Ending their coven is a massive sacrifice. What is their price?"

Hettie met his eyes squarely. "They witnessed my transformation. They desire the same for themselves."

"You mean…"

"Yes, my liege," she giggled, nodding. "They wish to become fiends. They have come to believe in your vision and the path you are forging."

Eren studied her for a long moment before glancing at Ivor, who gave a silent nod of confirmation.

"You will command more than just an army," Ivor noted. "You will have zealots. The members of the Root are obsessed with the Young Demon Emperor. They believe you can guide them beyond the limits of typical demonic beings in Labh Salem. That is why they mobilized the moment I shared your plans."

Eren leaned back, a slow, predatory smile forming on his lips.

"Very well," he said. "Let’s see what kind of havoc we can wreak with seven thousand witches and warlocks behind us."

A brief silence fell over the room, broken only by the muffled sound of the tide. Eren stood up.

"See that they are settled. Task assignments will begin once I have conferred with the captains. We are short on time before the Sabbath. If the Root is truly mine to command… then I will ensure they advance further on their demonic paths."

Ivor rose as well, a glint of excitement in his eyes. Hettie wore a subtle, inscrutable smile as she followed the two men out of the hall.