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40_Midnight's bell

Chapter 40: Same but different

{Andromalius’s pov, The full moon of the twelfth moon]

Ever since that banquet ended, Mikhail has been locking himself in the office with the paperwork and studies. Having heard from the Librarian, they have been borrowing so many strategy scrolls and tactic books. It’s worrisome that they won’t share the burden with us at least.

“What the matter, growing weak now Anromalius?” The spark between our weapons clashing has woken me from the constant dutiful thinking of being what best chancellor I would make.

To be honest, this exchange of power between me and Furcas is nothing but a minor distraction from the lack of work because of their overbearing nature taking over since the return.

It is scornful still to see that even when returning the power from the distant prime, Furcas has combusted the mana hastily. Even as a weapon maker, his form is still lacking far too much from their majesty's frozen weapons.

“I have lost interest in this sparring.” With that said, I slice the tip of Furcas’s flame sword. It’s just mana coated by a unique authority’s flame, it’s beyond pathetic at this point.

I will have to learn to retain my poisonous authority not to cause much of a disadvantage for my allies. So just focusing enough corrosion poison on my mythril lance is enough to break any weapon with ease.

“You have grown susceptible to those duties of a watcher, I am disappointed.” Furcas discard the cinder sword, the flame burning as the scorched completely makes a permanent spot on the training ground. The recovery has decreased greatly from the effect it seems.

“Put that flame out, the training ground has been recovering too much from your playing already.” The flame is ever-burning like Furcas prime before his exile, it’s unimaginable how their majesty’s blood has made a great decay of time to wane like nothing. If I remember correctly when the great war happens, we didn’t taste such a miracle even.

[ "Am I the result of mortal and angel intercourse? Obviously not. I am...it's difficult to explain, but I am a mocking attempt to create an archangel." ]

Ha…a mocking attempt. Lord Sariel, you have played something far greater than you will ever understand fully.

[ "I don't think God will ever because he has returned to the chamber and barred anyone from entering." ]

If any of the Ars Goetia would hear this, I doubt any of them was happy. The light of salvation has closed since my choice once before. I shouldn’t be so greedy to close another.

“Fine, fine we don’t want to make that small one angry.” Furcas scoffs annoyingly.

“As I said before, your form needs work on mastering. You are only promoted this far because of Mikhail’s generosity. Saudade’s knight battalion commander, what an earful way to name someone incompetent as you.” I give once again general advice about his fighting; this time, I needn’t remind him of the difference between our authorities.

“That was why you were my lord in those previous days, Andromalius. Your words are irritating sure but I find them to be somewhat learnable.” Furcas chuckles, the cracking flame inside of the skeleton turning to a yellowish kind of emotion. Was it not the flame to tell the temperature and his well-being anymore? What is the flame trying to tell now?

“Though you are saying of being weak to take the 72nd spot out of us, why do you hide such power from them?” A whimsical note from Furcas. Maybe because of the previous loss, make his mind become mad.

“What in the past should be left in there? I don’t wish to dwell as I am now their majesty’s chancellor. I think besides yourself none of us would matter on the falling stone wall as Ars Goetia.” I refute Furcas’s maddening story of old. Truthfully the decision that came from that age was just a little humility I had left as God’s angel.

Cloud of ashes gather from the sky as the silent bell rings, Ash knows to make his entrance as overwhelming as possible. As the servant seems unpleasantly chokes by plague gas, he stops the authority from damaging further. At least he knows when to stop as it comes to their majesty’s law.

If it’s the case then wouldn’t my poison emitted from the early days cause some trouble to clear out? Such a shame, they might never tell me of the damaging property and the cleaning method of my authority.

“Well, well look at what we have here. The knight commander and the chancellor are taking a break, what caused such a precious event to happen?” The royal messenger, Ash makes a generous bow.

“Royal messager, it wouldn’t be an unpleasant day without your presence here. How is the delivery process?” I answered back as if filling a point of the survey in my today report to account for their majesty's harsh measure of complement.

“Quite well, chancellor.” Ash chuckles, his eyes sharpening over Furcas. I can guess well what he scared coming from the mouth of this simpleton of a knight.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Never have I known to your stop here, Ca-“ Just I guess, the pitch black feather sends through the skeleton knight, spilling feathers and as it emits a poisonous catastrophe.

Ars Goetia’s envoy, the origin of “plague”,…by many names does Cain comes to know by the years. Only those who survived the great sealing may know of his true name.

“I expected the name Ash to come out of your mouth or you wish for a bedridden sick that get you to be pardoned from the front line?” Ash threats Furcas with a powerful curse, I am not going to step into this idiotic argument between these two.

“I was going to say your title but your phony name fits more, isn’t it?” Furcas ideally lies, and Ash takes scoffs as he regains the composure before.

“Unlike you, my entitlement to my work balance is what I take pride in,” Ash says while removing the mask of a harpy. The flesh by dark magic…no, I have taken too much of Mikhail’s lessons to distinguish truth from common misconception. This should call a constructed corpse from alchemy.

“I see...” Furcas sighs. I guess our discussion should end at this moment, I don’t have reason to prolong this.

“Were you serving as Lysander’s messager like the Librarian? My old friend is a very charming one so I can’t you.” Furcas suddenly spurts out. I am also curious about that, but I never ask. I remember only Stolas was taking in that time because of monarch Abadon’s request.

“No, I am abided by Kryos, not his father.” Taking off the harpy’s skin fully, Ash answers.

“What could the arrogance child ever do to make you submissive to its contract?” I inquire as this is unbelievable for me as well. I don’t understand how the irresponsible one is able to make him submit.

In thousand years more I doubt Kryos can ever win against Ash’s magic or he would be wiser than the one responsible for Ars Goetia’s diplomacy.

“Curiosity” Ash answers shortly

“Did he have forbidden knowledge? Or creative mind to create countless magic?” Furcas demands an explanation.

“No, you have taken the kid too high, he simply had the audacity to chase me around when I was traveling. For millennia of following me, I guessed to reward him with ‘timely’ cooperation, later it turned to a long time partnership before even I was aware of such.”

So in a time when Kryos was just a prince, he traveled far and wide from the dragon tribe to mortal kingdoms. Countless times he and Cain would meet again and again, to the point of irritation that Cain decide to play along and abide by granting one wish whenever they met.

Those wishes that Kryos made always caused Cain to be curious, maybe to the point of admiration. For the 100th time, Cain made a permanent contract with Kryos. Instead of a foreign affair minister, Kryos made Ash the royal messenger; so that Cain would continue to travel even when being Kryos’s servant.

“Then what about Andromalius, why are you becoming their servant?” Ash asks at the end of his story.

“I am also curious about what makes you decide such a decision. In the year off serving you still, I never saw you bowed to any.” Furcas chimes in.

“I did not have such a relationship with their majesty…not now at least,” I answer in reluctance. To think it clearly I always view Mikhail as the salvation; to make this place better and make my selfish wish I once betrayed comes true.

In return, Mikhail sees my support only as shallow adoration; many times when they were making bold choices, they asked me to reconsider taking back my support against them. For some sovereigns like them, it’s unthinkable how much they have been holding under lord Sariel’s control.

“What!?”

“But you two seem so close together, even to the point that you take care of their bidding.” Furcas crafts so many fabricated pieces of evidence that I begin to falsely believe him.

“No, that was my duty as their caretaker and this kingdom’s chancellor.” In the end, I refute and face the reality.

“I was worrying about forming a love triangle, maybe it would come true?” On the other hand, Ash begins to write a love story between me and Kryos fighting to win Mikhail's affection. How the forbidden love struggles between the modest but serious gorgon uncle and the flamboyant but carefree young prince.

“I already have three wives and offering a consort spot to the sovereign would consider treason, no?” I shot down it immediately, but if his ideas become book some days…I will burn every since copy of it.

They continue with the nonsense from noon to dusk, in which the servants begin to light the torches to beckon to the coming night.

“Let's cease this for now. I am going to write my esteem report to their majesty.” I say turning away in the middle discussion of delusions.

Walking onto the hallways, the servants as usual bows at every step they come across me. But this day something cheeky must have happened for their mood to be cheerfully received, it wouldn’t be strange if it relate to this noon story.

Coming out of the office, Librarian makes a turn out its way to greet me.

“Great evening, Chancellor.” The librarian speaks as if it can’t contain its joy like before.

“Evening to you too, Librarian.” I greet it with a bow.

“Their majesty is ready to listen to your report, I have received quite a story from them.” Spreading its “wings”, the door opens behind it.

“I see…don’t extort them too much they are going to face difficulties in the near future,” I advise.

“That’s the story I have recorded. So I am going to edit something to them worth recording, good bye Andromalius.” Turning away it returned to the locked library.

“Rest well, Stolas.” I turn my back to the office door

Opening the door, I am greeted by Mikhail at the office desk again. They have worked diligently but still have the mind to spare for Librarian’s entertainment. They look so tired yet still warm enough to welcome with a cup of hot tea and cookies that are baked over for some mana recovery.

“Here is the report of today, Mikhail.” I put the report on the right of the desk like usual.

“Please place it here, sir Andromalius,” Mikhail answers as he takes the seat back to his work. His hand and eyes cooperate as extremely synchronized as if they are one, and the paperwork reduces at an amazing speed.

“Have the plan done?” I inquire while taking a drink, the herbal tea slides smoothly through my dried throat.

“Yes, I have done the preparation to kill Barachiel, her death shall start the chain event for the better of our kingdom.” Mikhail sighs tiredly while answering.

“I will do this not just for me but us as Saudade whole. Please don’t push yourself so much, you are my precious chancellor after all.” In the end, Mikhail looks at me with concern. It reminds me of the old memory I share with lord Lucifer.

[ "I care about our future, Andromalius,"

" I need your help in doing so. Can you do it for us, not just for me?" ]

The same meaning but the feeling is different, lord Lucifer is the one who only uses affection to serve his ambition, and comrades are something of use to complete the same goal of his. Mikhail on the other hand genuinely shares the concern with every unfortunate soul, his words are true when it comes to protecting what we have been working toward,

“I am sure you will, your majesty,” I concluded.

The end