Book 5, Chapter 94


“Oi, you idiot!” Lawrence walked over, trying to pull the bottle away from Richard’s mouth, “Stop!”

However, Richard just swerved to avoid, “I’m just relaxing a little or I’ll be completely drained out. Depression is the true enemy of all life.”

These words were a famous saying of Emperor Charles, something that many people liked to distort for their benefit. Lawrence looked at the scant few droplets remaining in the bottle and shook his head, “You should be eating right now.”

“The food isn’t here yet,” Richard shrugged. He liked to empty a few bottles of alcohol after every major battle to unwind.

“Grr… Fine, what do you plan to do about that demon?”

“Blacklight? Nothing, I’ll just let him be. I don’t know why it was, but I didn’t feel like killing him.”

Lawrence frowned, “This isn’t Norland, Richard. That demon isn’t a mere child; he very well could find an opportunity to kill you if you let your guard down.”

“Then perhaps this is a test,” Richard mused, “If he really can kill me, I’m fine with that.”

“You arrogant brat… Tell me the truth, what’s with the pet?”

Richard just scratched his head, “Nothing, really. It was just an impulse. I didn’t kill him at the beginning, and since he’s so obedient now I don’t have the heart to do it anymore.”

“You do know that he’s likely demon royalty, right? He also looks fairly pure-blooded. If he’s seen…”

“If he’s seen?”

“The city will probably requisition him. A royal demon is worth far more than you can ever expect, and we need a specimen for research. It’s extremely difficult to catch his kind alive, and it could be the key to figuring out their weaknesses for future battles. You should know that demons are amongst the most threatening of all Daxdians because of their intelligence.”

Richard knitted his brows, understanding where Lawrence was coming from. He had collected and analysed the corpses of numerous Daxdians in his own battles so he could deal with them better. However, he had told the demon that he wouldn’t harm him, and the youth had been careful enough to follow both rules without once overstepping his bounds. What should have been a dangerous enemy felt more like a pet than anything else.

Even though he couldn’t disagree with Lawrence’s words, Richard felt a little uncomfortable. He didn’t want to accept a fate where his words would be broken, but it wasn’t like he could release Blacklight either. Who knew how many Norlanders would end up dead if the demon was let go?

“Requisition him?” he asked with a frown.

“Yes. If there is enough reason, Marshal Rundstedt has the authority to requisition any property in the City of the Unsetting Sun so long as he finds good reason for it.”

“I caught the demon, he belongs to me,” Richard remarked.

“It would be the same in any other stronghold. That being said, you would be compensated handsomely for him… Umm… Considering the entire war, I would be inclined to side with the city myself.”

Still frowning, Richard decided to give this some further thought. He had no real plans for the demon; in fact, he hadn’t even thought much about the kid. It was just that he was uncomfortable with someone he had caught being taken away by force.

“What?!” Richard suddenly stood up in fright, so fast that air rippled away from him. Lawrence was taken aback, almost dropping his scalpel on the floor, “You rascal, what the hell happened?”

“Something’s wrong, one of my followers is in the city!” As he said this, Richard was already running away. He quickly rushed into the inner sections of the city as he chased after Waterflower’s location, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t establish contact. His connection with her was very weak, to the point that he could barely even discern a general direction.

“Waterflower!” he called out regularly, but he got no response.


Within the inner sanctum of the city, at a tall shrine close to the central plaza. The stench of blood filled the air here, with a few dim torches illuminating the hall. The flames were a strange greenish-blue, half-transparent and not causing any smoke. They created a sickeningly sweet aroma from up close, but even that wasn’t powerful enough to cover the reek.

The depths of the hall were almost completely dark, with a faint silhouette of a gloomy man seated within. This was the legendary mage who was constantly beside Rundstedt, Hasting. 

Hasting looked tired, the dark circles around his bloodshot eyes almost purple in colour while his face was slightly swollen. Wet hair matted his neck and sweat-drenched forehead.

Within his hand was a huge gold cup with a stinky viscous liquid. He was gradually sipping from the goblet, his heavy breathing starting to stabilise.

A few metres away from him was a stone structure made of black rocks, with several layers of complicated spell formations engraved on top. At the centre of the formation was an aged warrior that had just awoken from his sleep.

“He’s fine now, carry him away,” Hasting said to a pair of warriors that walked in, causing expressions of delight to flood their faces.

The lead warrior walked over and bowed, “Your Excellency, we have another injured person that I fear only you can heal.”

“Why does it have to be me?” the legendary mage said with fatigue, “What happened to the clerics?”

“Her soul is protected by a powerful spell that the Church could not break. We need your expertise to assess whether she has sustained any soul damage.”

Hasting suddenly perked up, laughing sinisterly, “Those uptight pricks finally admit that they aren’t as powerful as me? Amazing. Just what kind of person can stump the priestesses there? I’ll have to see this myself.”

The legendary mage stood up, but even for this he needed the support of his chair. His entire arm was shaking with weakness. The warriors just watched on in awe; only a short while ago, the three legendary beings in the city including Hasting had held off the enemy’s five until the black sorcerers ran out of energy. Even worse was that Hasting had no opportunity for rest after the war, forced to heal the warriors whose souls had sustained the most damage.

Even though Hasting was extremely eccentric and bad-tempered, his contributions to the city caused everyone to venerate him just like Saint Lawrence had been once upon a time.


“Is this a joke?” Hasting roared angrily at the warrior who had placed a young lady on the formation, “A kid who isn’t even a saint? Whose idea was this?”

Despite Hasting’s apparent weakness, the saints present immediately felt a chill down their spines. The wrath of a legendary mage had a thunderous presence. The lead warrior immediately got down on one knee, “Your Excellency, she has been fighting alongside us for the past week. She is not a saint, but her might in battle is no inferior to our own. She killed three Daxdians before she was injured, and even then held off some opponents to reduce our casualties.”

“Oh?” Hasting simmered down, starting to evaluate the young lady in earnest, “Hmm… Seems like she has great potential, it’s worth me using my soul healing. Come, stand, you have helped me often in the past. If you are willing to speak up for her, I will do my best.”

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OMA's Thoughts

Translated By: Styles

Edited By: Theo

TLC'ed By: OMA