Chapter 19
Grinning, he rolled up his sleeve before the Head Maid could refuse or say anything.
On the inner side of his white right arm, vivid lines of various colors were neatly engraved. At a rough estimate, there were at least ten of them.
The Head Maid asked with eyes wide in shock.
“What is this…?”
“This side has the most. There are some on the inside of my body, too.”
Even though she knew it wasn’t the right atmosphere, she couldn’t help asking out of sheer curiosity.
“How many in total?”
“I stopped counting after seventy.”
More than seventy oaths.
Even to me, who had traveled across the continent, met all sorts of powerhouses, and been through every hardship imaginable, it was an absurd number. A genuine exclamation of awe escaped my lips.
‘I knew he wasn’t ordinary…’
Today, too, I pondered.
‘Just what the hell is this guy and where does he come from?’
Lu spoke to the Head Maid, who sat with her mouth hanging open, as if to comfort her.
“Don’t be too shocked. It’s also proof that he keeps his promises extremely well. If he had ever broken an oath and let a single word slip, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“Mr. Lu, I understand what you’re saying, but…”
“Well, if necessary, he could swear an even stronger oath. Something like ‘kill anyone who tries to pry information out of me unconditionally’ or ‘torture them.’ Any condition would do.”
A gentle yet irresistibly compelling voice spoke.
“Let me see that egg, too.”
It seemed the Head Maid had no other choice.
“Afterward, I’ll help disguise Miss Daizy as well.”
This was exactly why quick-witted people were so annoying.
* * *
Thud, thud.
At the same time, a man slowly advanced down a long, silent corridor, illuminating it with a lantern flame.
The artificial light from the Purified Magic Stone, imbued with demonic power, was twice as bright and vivid as candlelight. It was as if it could dispel all the darkness within the villa.
The man who slowly traversed the corridor came to a stop before his destination: the bedroom.
He knocked lightly on the door, but there was no response. After waiting a moment, and hearing no sound even after twenty seconds, he cautiously opened the door.
The room was dark.
The man extinguished the lantern and stepped inside the bedroom. The bed was empty, so he turned his gaze to the sofa, where an unusually long and sturdy figure was leaning back against the chair with his eyes closed.
It was his superior, the man who wielded the greatest power in the Pen Rota Empire: Grand Duke Raphaello Jenail Pen Rota.
The man, D’ Shero, let out a silent sigh of relief.
‘He’s finally asleep.’
Covering him with a blanket would disturb the precious rest that Grand Duke Raphaello so rarely enjoyed.
It was his first sleep in three full days. Gazing at his dangerously sharp profile, like a sheer cliff face, D’ Shero quietly closed the door and left.
The raging storm battered the windows, embracing the villa’s darkness. It would be nice if that rain could serve as a lullaby.
Please, at least tonight, let his hero sleep without nightmares.
* * *
But D’ Shero’s wish did not reach him.
Drip, drop.
As Grand Duke Raphaello listened to the irregular rhythm, he stared at the hazy light flickering along the ceiling and thought.
Another one of those damn dreams.
His ragged breathing gradually calmed. As his reddened vision cleared, he recognized the face at the edge of his sight.
It was D’ Shero, his aide and a skilled warrior, sighing in relief with eyes bloodshot from fatigue.
[Supreme Commander, the effects of the seem to be kicking in. For the next two hours, your breathing and pulse will return to normal, and you’ll enter a *catatonic state.]
- A state where physiological functions weaken, making one appear dead while still alive.
This was a dream.
It was also the hell he had endured four years ago.
In the dream, he was merely a bystander, powerless to do anything but watch his own mouth move on its own.
Raphaello steadied his breath and asked D’ Shero, who stood at his side.
[How many pills are left?]
His voice was so low and hoarse that it sounded unfamiliar even to himself.
[The one you just took was the last.]
was a potent hallucinogen, a type of narcotic. Refined into a painkiller, it was a precious drug on the battlefield.
And now there were none left.
[Then that means we have to anticipate and resolve every difficulty within the next two hours.]
D’ Shero nodded gravely.
Severely wounded during the raid on the enemy camp, he had teetered between life and death for two days before finally opening his eyes that morning.
Perhaps because it was a wound inflicted by demonic energy, his recovery was unusually slow. The raging fever blinded and deafened him to the point where he couldn’t even command, let alone get out of bed.
[What’s the situation over the past two days?]
[Supply lines have been wrecked one after another, effectively cutting off our supply route. There’s no other major damage, and the soldiers’ morale is holding steady. As per your orders, Supreme Commander, I’ve summoned all the commanders thirty minutes ago.]
With the Supreme Commander down and supplies severed, things couldn’t get any worse.
They were now right in front of the enemy’s stronghold. After overcoming countless hardships, they had reached Queen Island.
Once they crossed that mountain swarming with demons like crashing waves, they could reach humanity’s greatest enemy and war criminal, the great mage Mephisto.
Just one mountain to cross.
They had been so close.
As his callused hands clenched the fabric, weary voices drifted from the adjoining command tent behind him.
[Supreme Commander’s recovery is progressing very slowly. The demonic energy emanating from Mephisto’s魔城 seems to be greatly suppressing his natural healing abilities. Supreme Commander Raphaello will need at least a week to focus solely on recovery.]
[A week? Are you serious? Do you think that devil will just sit idly by while he recovers? We don’t have enough supplies left for our hundred thousand troops to hold out here for a week!]
[Did you say we need a week’s grace period? Then supplies won’t be an issue. The soldiers will keep pressing forward, forward. The troops will dwindle faster than the supplies run out…]
[Shut your trap, you son of a bitch! Are you suggesting we sacrifice the lives of a hundred thousand men like that?]
It didn’t feel good to just watch his allies grow restless.
With D’ Shero’s support, Raphaello slowly rose from the cot.
[Wouldn’t it be better to rest a bit more before moving?]
[You know better than anyone that we don’t have time for that.]
Ten years. The war had dragged on for a full ten years.
The endless war had given wings to a hero who had once been mere chess pieces.
It was ironic. The more disastrously his allies were defeated and the front lines pushed back, the greater his influence over the Mado Alliance became.
Before long, he was called the Supreme Commander of the Mado Alliance.
Supreme Commander Raphaello.
Humanity’s hero.
The king who commanded the battlefield.
Raphaello’s presence had an immense impact on this army.
Thus, he had to wrap up the meeting swiftly within two hours and show his face to the troops. He needed to boost their morale and take one step closer to victory.
From the approaching tent, slightly calmer voices could be heard.
[We’ll have no choice but to use the cliffside ravine after all.]
[You mean the one connected to the underground of Mephisto’s castle? How could we use a path that barely lets one person through at a time? And with a few gargoyles standing guard, crossing it is out of the question.]
[It’s not the army crossing. It’s a person. Just one person.]
[Hah! Are you suggesting we assassinate Mephisto?]
[Who could possibly assassinate a devil like that? It’s enough to draw Mephisto’s attention. The demon army follows only his orders. While that person buys time striking from behind, we advance down the hill and push the front lines…]
Raphaello quietly entered the tent.
The first thing he saw was a broad back.
The owner of that back, standing at the head of the table, was listening intently to the grave back-and-forth discussion over the map.
Flanked by two officers with pallid, sunken faces, they kept talking without pause.
It was the position he himself should have held. But when he couldn’t be there, only that one man could stand in for Supreme Commander Raphaello.
Anderte.
He was Raphaello’s sword, his one and only partner.
[It’s worth trying.]
Anderte nodded.
[But anyone less than a formidable force will just die on that cliff. It’s a plan that could amount to nothing, so sending someone too exceptional…]
[…Supreme Commander?]
Twelve pairs of eyes turned to Raphaello.
Some sighed in relief, others in worry, but Raphaello paid them no mind. Without hesitation, he walked forward and stood before his partner.
The man called the emperor’s sword.
One of the Mado Alliance’s commanders, the precious comrade who had endured ten years of this hell alongside him. Brother, family, partner, and the other half of his soul.
[Anderte.]
Anderte turned to face him.
