Read Novel Full Chapter 533: Lost Generals
Chapter 533: Lost Generals
"You have tapped into this world. What have you found?" the Unknown King asked the Alchemists.
"A world plagued by miasma," they answered as one. "It transforms people into demons and twists their thoughts. The vilest attributes of the demon kind come from it, and it erupts regularly from the mountains of their world. Our army would not survive prolonged exposure unless we brought the Rune of Light."
Their eyes shifted towards Isolde before returning to the Unknown King. They said nothing, but he understood what they were suggesting.
Dragons were the exception.
It would be reckless, even abusive, to demand Isolde’s dragons simply because they could survive where his army could not. He wouldn’t do it, and he had no need for an army in the first place.
"Will this miasma affect him?" Isolde asked the question already on his mind.
"We..." The Alchemists began together, only for their voices to trail off.
"...are not certain," Zaun finished.
"The Unknown King remains incomprehensible to us. We do not know how the miasma might affect him, and we have no intention of finding out." Zaun raised his head to meet the King’s gaze. "Those demons, especially their ancient gods, can feed on powerful emotions such as anger, fear and pain. Others feed on physical things—blood, flesh. There are several Demon Kings in that world. They could help."
"Please. I know you want me to stay, but do not make things up. Those Demon Kings will be glad to see one of their own die."
Zaun sighed. "Then you will take the Apostles with you."
"I agree," Isolde said. "Take the Apostles. All ten of them."
The Unknown King turned sharply towards her.
Isolde frowned at the sudden glare, confusion flickering across her face. After a moment, the King looked away.
"You don’t know what they just offered, do you?"
"No..." Isolde slowly turned towards the Apostles. "What does it mean?"
"Suicide."
Isolde’s eyes widened. "What?!"
"You made her queen and didn’t inform her?" The Unknown King turned his gaze upon the Alchemists, his eyes glowing with a piercing light.
Then he looked back at Isolde.
"It would seem they didn’t tell Godfrey either. The Apostles serve as barriers of mana that protect the Alchemists from the knowledge they carry. When an Apostle is separated from his Alchemist, or forced to remain in combat for too long, that protection weakens. Eventually, the knowledge floods into the Alchemist’s mind all at once, and they go insane."
He drew in a quiet breath.
"The damage is irreversible. The Alchemist must then be put down so another can take his place. Haven’t they shown you the trees?"
"Your Majesty..." Zaun began.
"Enough. I do not need your protection. That is all."
The Alchemists gave a collective nod before retreating from the throne room.
The Unknown King turned towards Isolde, but she remained where she was, staring at the doors through which they had disappeared.
"I never thought they were so fragile," she said quietly.
He said nothing.
Isolde eventually returned her gaze to him. "This might be the wrong moment, but I heard about the loss of two generals. I’m sorry."
The Unknown King’s eyes narrowed slightly, though he remained silent.
"I know you want to speak." Isolde held his gaze as he sat high above her on the throne. It had to be uncomfortable, keeping her neck tilted just to stare into that faceless helm of his. "You have my ears."
"Their souls did not transit to the Afterlife World. They remained suspended between life and death. The Alchemists believed that was a good thing at first, but the souls continued to deteriorate until what remained of them was worse than a mindless beast."
His voice softened.
"An honourable wait ended without honour."
"One of them held the banner. He was my bannerman. Where he stood, the Order could not fall. They looked at him, looked up at the banner he carried, and saw me. And I..." The Unknown King exhaled calmly. "I looked back at them."
His gaze remained on Isolde.
"The Healer made them move as though they were immortal. My knights felt protected whenever she was on the battlefield. Oh, they fought valiantly. Hundreds of thousands once roared her name, yet she died alone in a hallway, by the sword of someone dear to her heart."
Isolde’s lips parted. "She was betrayed."
"If only it were that simple. I look at him and want to take off his head for what he has done to my empire. At its peak, he broke its foundations. But I know of his sacrifice. I know the Order gained those very foundations because of him, and I know of his fierce loyalty. Knowing all of that invalidates my wrath."
For the first time in a while, the Unknown King drew his gaze away from Isolde. She must have had him spellbound by that face.
"The foundations I have left are these Alchemists. I will not live forever, and soon, I shall leave them."
"Godfrey will take care of them," Isolde said.
"Godfrey..." the Unknown King murmured.
Isolde watched him for a moment. "You want some time alone?"
"I do."
She nodded and withdrew from the hall. Once outside, however, Isolde stopped and looked back, watching the dark figure seated upon the golden throne as the knights slowly pulled the doors closed.
The gap through which she could see him grew narrower and narrower.
Then, for a fleeting moment before the doors met, she could almost see Godfrey’s blue eyes staring back at her.
Something inside her lurched so violently that she nearly threw herself towards the doors. It was an instinctive, forceful pull that bordered on physical pain when she refused to obey it.
With a soft thud, the doors shut.
***
Isolde eventually left the castle and rode a dragon to the much smaller one in the distance—the castle Godfrey had brought her to when she first arrived in Pathan.
There were fewer knights than she expected, but among them stood someone she hadn’t expected to see at all.
Toria.
She stood with her arms crossed, watching the woods.
Isolde wasn’t quite sure how to react when Toria noticed her. Toria merely gave a nod, and Isolde returned it with a small smile of her own.
A faint embarrassment crept over her. Toria must have known exactly why she had come here.
Even with a little warmth beginning to show in her cheeks, Isolde kept herself composed. Maintaining control over herself was hardly something new to her.
The knights continued paying their respects as she passed until she finally reached the room where she had stayed with Godfrey.
Isolde climbed onto the bed and lay down.
A strange comfort settled around her, wrapping itself around her almost possessively, yet gently. For a moment, she could imagine that he was still somewhere in the room.
Eventually she rose and wandered from one piece of furniture to another, touching familiar surfaces and allowing the memories attached to them to return. She finally settled onto the couch beside the wide window and watched the sun sink towards the horizon.
Her gaze drifted to the rings on her fingers, and a soft smile touched her lips.
Isolde had no idea when she fell asleep.
By then, the first moon of Pathan had risen—a silver moon with a narrow crescent that somehow gave off a dark light.
In her sleep, Isolde found herself watching Godfrey in a training room, boxing with Victoria. He was bare-chested and coated in sweat, breathing heavily, yet his feet never stopped moving as he slipped past her blows and answered with his own.
As Godfrey and his teacher continued their dance of fists and footwork, a smile slowly appeared on the face of the red-haired woman sleeping beside the window.
***
Meanwhile, the Unknown King stepped through a portal and entered a strange new world.
Volcanoes lined the horizon, relentlessly spewing black and red miasma into an already tainted sky. Even the plants struggled to grow beneath it, leaving much of the land sickly and barren.
The Unknown King marched steadily towards his destination, each step carrying him deeper into the corrupted world.
Somewhere ahead, he could almost hear a wicked chuckle.
The Demon King was expecting his guest.