strokinit Chapter 135 : Lovan Tree Prison (6)
Chapter 135 : Lovan Tree Prison (6)
Once the battle ended, a heavy silence descended upon the prison.“Whew... I thought I was a goner.” Lancelot collapsed to the floor, breathing raggedly.
His tone was playful, but the fine tremor in his hands betrayed how taxing the fight had been. The demon’s tongue he’d blocked at the end must have carried devastating force.
Still, his insistence on smiling showed just how desperately he wanted to hide his exhaustion.
“Hey, Captain, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” Lancelot’s gaze carried suspicion.
I had a good idea why. Probably because of what he’d seen when I used my demonic energy.
With a small scowl, I shoved my still-trembling hand into the pocket of my trousers.
“Louis, are you okay?”
“...Young Master.”
As if Lancelot’s question had been a signal, the others began approaching me one by one, their faces etched with concern.
His needless remark had everyone worried.
“I’m perfectly fine, so save your concern. In fact, I’m in better shape than any of you.”
I did my best to appear unfazed as I rose to my feet. I could have rested longer if I’d wanted to, but I had no desire to linger here.
Take a break in a prison littered with corpses? If we were going to rest, it might as well be in a warm inn.
The best we could hope for was a room that wasn’t caked in filth. Even so, that would be a vast improvement over this place.
I nodded, certain of my decision.
Just then, Mihaila crouched down beside me. “You know, there’s something I haven’t heard yet.”
“And what’s that?”
“Who you people are.”
“I’m Louis Berg, third son of House Berg. Currently working hard to become the son-in-law of House Praha.”
“Praha? Ah, the North? You’ve come a long way,” Mihaila murmured, nodding to herself. “But aren’t the Bergs a family of spearmen? Why are you using a bow?”
“Because I have supreme talent for it.”
“Oh, how obnoxious.” A faint smirk played on her lips. Mihaila let out a soft chuckle and added under her breath, “I’ll admit, you’re a damn good shot.”
“One last question,” she said.
“You certainly have a lot of them. Go on.”
“If I join you, where are we headed next?” Her eyes held a little sparkle to them.
I met her gaze, paused for a moment, then answered, “The Demonic Realm.”
“Wow!”
A brilliant smile spread across Mihaila’s face, her eyes curving into joyful crescents. It was, without a doubt, the most radiant smile I had seen from her yet.
“Are we going hunting?” she asked.
“It’s a hunt,” I replied.
Of course, our main objective was to rescue the Grand Duke. But to draw her in, I had to use the promise of hunting Demonkin.
And just as I expected...
“Hah... This is fantastic.” She squirmed with pure ecstasy.
I shook my head, a sense of revulsion washing over me. To get excited at the thought of killing Demonkin... She was a type of person I would never understand, not even if I lived a thousand years.
Perverts are a bad influence on children, after all.
* * *
I had imagined us peacefully sipping fruit juice in an inn.
The reality that greeted us after we emerged from Lovan Tree Prison via the submarine was a contingent of knights standing in perfect formation, waiting for us.
Judging by the crests on their armor, they belonged to the Royal Knights of Lovan.
“Halt! Stop where you are!” shouted the knight at the very front of the formation.
From his tense expression, it was clear he believed we were the perpetrators of whatever had happened inside the prison. They probably thought it was nothing more than a riot staged for a prison break.
My eyes flickered to the person trailing behind me: Mihaila Trominia.
Regardless of anything else, her presence alone made us criminals who had aided a jailbreak. Of course, if we explained the full circumstances and an investigation was conducted, we would eventually be exonerated...
Even if the Grand Duke had met with my master, his life could be in danger at any moment.hing: those people hadn’t been the ones to kill the prison guards.
The squad leader silently surveyed his surroundings and took a deep breath.
It seemed chaos was about to descend upon the continent.
* * *
Meanwhile, at that very moment.
A loud explosion echoed through the Artezia Duchy as a stone shard shattered, its fragments scattering across the floor.
“It seems they failed.”
Duke Artezia stared at the exploded stone and murmured softly.
He had handed over the catalysts because the Twelve Nobles had said they needed them. It appeared their attempt to establish a foothold had been a failure.
The only silver lining was that only one of the two catalysts had shattered.
“Pepia must have survived. He wouldn’t have died there. Does that mean Ram is the one who was killed?”
Watching that repulsive frog, the Duke had always thought he would die someday. But he hadn’t expected it to be now.
“Utterly pathetic.”
With a cold glint in his eyes, the Duke lifted his polished shoe. He brought it down with force on the stone fragments rolling across the floor.
The shards pulverized into dust and scattered on the wind.
“Does this mean two of them are dead already?”
To think that those creatures, with their grand ambitions of devouring the continent, were this incompetent. He felt a surge of shame just for being the same race as them.
“Shall I call for the attendants, Your Grace?”
“No need. Forget the attendants. Just prepare a hot bath for me today.”
The Duke waved a hand at the approaching maid and shrugged off his robe.
The bathtub was filled with blood. As the Duke submerged himself, the crimson liquid began to diminish as if it were being absorbed directly into his skin.
“Huuuh.”
He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out, and black hair began to grow where gray strands had been. Rejuvenation.
Now, no one would ever guess the Duke was a man of fifty.
He watched the drops of blood trickle down his hair. The metallic scent reminded him of the day he first became Demonkin. The unfamiliar ruins and the artifact.
And the strange voice that had whispered from it.
He had trembled in fear at the time, thinking it was a cursed object. But now he knew.
It was the voice of the Demon God.
“It was an honor to receive His blessing,” the Duke murmured, his eyes flashing.
Becoming emperor, becoming Demonkin—it was all for the sake of the Demon God.
Though two of the Twelve Nobles had died in the process, nothing had changed.
“All unfolds according to the Demon God’s will,” the Duke murmured, sinking deeper into the tub.
The hour of the Red Moon approached.
Soon… all too soon.