Chapter 124
Bet-Huda the Malformed
“A Demon?!” Mikael said in surprise, as he steadied himself from the damage he took.
“Yes, the power source of the Demonbane Cannon is the stomach of this Demon. This is a secret not even the Hero knows.”
“Bet-Huda the Malformed. One of the Ur-Nagud. We managed to capture it about 2 years ago.” the Advisor said.
“It took us thousands of lives, including that of the son of General Huber,” the King added. His expression morose.
Mikael remembered faintly of Marc Huber. He was an exemplary Knight who would sacrifice his life for the Kingdom.
“From it, we know the hierarchy of the Demons. Only those capable of speech, the Named Demons, can be counted as one. Like us, they have something similar to Captains, Colonel, and Brigadier. Respectively in their language, Ur-Turav, Ur-Kulak, and Ur-Nagud. Demon Lords who they call Maluk Sedi in their language, acted as the Generals, while at the top is the Demon King,” he paused to press the gravity of this fact. “The existence whom they call Faraum.”
“For them, the Demon King is not just their leader, but also the representation of their religion. Their belief given form; their zealotry given name.”
“I have never seen a Demon as stubborn as this, cut apart like a pig and yet it lived,” a figure dressed in black walked towards them. Despite the protruded stomach on him, he walked with the even pace of a soldier.
“Well met, Your Majesty,” the man greeted Mikael’s father, arms firmly tucked inside his coat.
“Y-you?!” Mikael knew this person, but he did not expect a man of his middling Nobility rank would be here. Especially showing such disrespect towards the King. “Insolence!”
The man smiled, and then shrugged as if the Prince did not matter. “You haven’t told him about me, Your Majesty?”
“…one thing at a time, Greenfield,” the King answered.
“Well, Prince. Just as other countries have their secrets, we also do,” the man said. “And my family is one of its secrets. It is our job to handle unsavory things. Currently, it is my job to keep this abomination in the eyes of the Goddess in check.”
Not he or she. The man regarded the creature as an it. Mikael noted.
“Months have passed with it in chains and yet its spirit never surrendered,” Alrond said. “It is quite impressive.”
The old man then turned to the thing who had been eyeing them in an eerie calm.
“Did you feel the tremor when we shoot the Demonbane Cannon, Bet-Huda?! Can you see the future of your ilk when we unleashed destruction upon them? How does it feel to know that you will have a role in the demise of your brethren?!”
The Demon looked at the tiny creature before its eyes and let out a roaring laugh.
“HAHAHAH!! Do you think the deaths of my brethren could rouse my emotion, little human? Such trifling matter would not even cause Our King to bat an eye?” it paused briefly, its reptilian eyes swiveled in good humor. “Such lies you tell yourself, human king,” the Demon spoke with vitriol. “We Demons do not love. We breed as needed. And we fight as needed.”
“How long has it been since you humans have fought us? How many years? And yet the only time you have managed to breach the center of our continent is when the Immortal King risked his life and managed to kill one of our Maluk Sedi. Even then, he did not manage to even have a glance at the full prowess Our King!”
Its laughter was low and halted, like the sound of rock falling off a cliff.
“Ah, the Immortal King. That man is more like us than you,” the thing said with glee. “But funnily enough, it was not us who ended his reign,” the Demon laughed. “It was his own people! How droll! How absolutely droll! Oh, I still cannot hold my laughter every time I remember it!”
“Shut your mouth!” Gerard raised his arms and the men managing the jail cranked a machination that was powered by Essence Crystals. Blue sparks snaked their way into the devices stuck into the wall.
“AHAHA!! AAARGH!! HAHAA!!!” The numerous giant staffs speared into its body let out lightning that burned its insides. Its laughter mixed with bellows of pain caused the young Prince to reel.
“You are food. Nothing more. A bit smarter than most, but at the end of it all, all of the Races are food. This Frontline of yours is a smorgasbord for us! Granted, some of the Demons might not see you as just food. Perhaps a worthy prey? Just like how you humans hunt great beasts to feast on their flesh.”
“That is all you are. Food!” the thing roared, rattling the chains that bound its arms and caused the wizards around the creature to strengthen the seal. “YAARGHH!!!”
“Writhe! Scream! Cry! You will never be free of this seal!” Alrond roared. “This seal was crafted by our Archmages and held in place by the best of the best. You will not ever be free until we squeeze out everything from you!!”
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“No matter what power you have, you are nothing but pawns of the Gods.”
The creature raised its head, ignoring the searing pain that burned its body.
Its expression of mockery suddenly turned solemn, its eyes looking straight at them. For some strange reason, this was a lot more unnerving than its earlier outburst.
“I am Bet-Huda, Ur-Nagud of the Unborn Foal Banner…” The thing growled, rattling the chains which bound him. “I am Bet-Huda, Faithful of Nakir-Sud-Mara, Worshiper of the Seven-Eyed, the Warbringer!!”
“Im Faraum!!” the Demon called out to its object of worship. Its King. “Warbringer! Landbearer! Truthseer! I, who am not worthy to call The King’s Most Profound Name, ask you, Im Faraum!! May you visit judgment upon these lowly humans!!”
Gerard raised his arm again in anger, and the staffs once more fried the Demons’ inside. The smell of rot and burned flesh filled the dungeon. With a string of loud cries, Bet-Huda fell limp from exhaustion.
The mages fell onto the ground from overuse of their Magic. All of them pale from tiredness. But one of them held an amulet that glinted slightly. On his face was a trace of worry and impatience.
“Hatshena Tal, Im Faraum. O, Rot Shachem…Hatshena Tal,” the monstrous creature said, its voice tinged with longing. “Rot Shachem…Hatshena Tal.”
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Away from the unsavory happenings deep under the Palace, Nick was standing in front of a fallen tree, his breathing ragged and his hands bleeding.
Nick and gashes were apparent on the poor tree, as it was hit by a sword many times until it was no more tree than firewood. There was no trace of refinement or techniques on the marks as if some child was whacking at the tree in anger.
“I assume it did not go well?” Connie said.
Nick threw his sword away and sat on the stump of the tree, holding his face with his bleeding hand.
“It’s gone. Milady’s traces. The books that she was reading. They were gone. Burned away during the arson a few years ago!!”
“Ah,” Connie rubbed her chin with her thumb. She knew from his inflection that the man was referring to her mother and not her “That does not bode well.”
Nick stopped rubbing his face with his hands. “What do you mean?”
“This might just be me overthinking things. But if I’m not wrong, the library was burned not long after the death of my mother, correct?”
Nick’s eyes widened. He was stupefied by the implication.
“Are you saying that her death might have something to do with what she found in the library?”
“I don’t know. This is just conjecture at this point,” Connie said. “But now there is no more clues about my mother that we have. This trail is at a dead end.”
“No! You promised!”
“I did. And I have done as I promised,” she said in response.
“Are you not angry at knowing that someone might have murdered your mother?!”
Connie gazed at the man who had lost his manners from anger. “My mother was a kind person, unlike me,” she said calmly. “And I do want to know the truth about her death. But if the truth killed you - someone who was cherished dearly by my mother - how could I face her then?”
“…I…I…”
“We have tried our best, but it has been too long. The trail had gone cold,” she added again. “Perhaps it is for the better. The future belongs to the living, you should calm yourself down and think about what you should do next.”
After saying that, Connie left the disheartened Nick alone to think.
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A few days after the eventful visit to the Palace, the rewards were delivered.
Martell put on his rewards on his right hand, the very image of a bourgeois little boy. As for the monetary rewards and the deed to the land she wanted, Connie stored them safely inside her Item Ring.
Today also happened to be the day the Al-Khemiyan entourage were returning to their own country.
“You should have waited for a few more days, then we could leave together,” Connie said to Prince Abbas.
“Unfortunately, we have already delayed our departure for too long. Much had happened for such a little time,” he answered. “We must return before the next season comes.”
“Yes, the cold does not welcome us,” his wise wife embraced Connie tightly. As she was about to do the same for Illumca, Illumca stiffened. She, however, did not refuse the hug. Though she did not return it. It was a great move forward for her.
“You are all welcome to visit us in Al-Khemiya. We will show you true hospitality.”
Martell was having trouble with the couple’s son, who did not want to be separated from the Beastfolk boy. As for Akula, she was having a talk with Kim Sooyoung.
“Have you decided?” the girl asked.
“…I have. Yes,” the Centaur said.
“Then, I wish you luck,” the Otherworlder gave her a small hug before entering the carriage.
They saw them off just outside the city and watched them rode eastward until they vanished into the horizon.
As they were about to return to the city, Akula gave Connie a tap on the shoulder.
“Connie, can you go with me for a bit?”
Connie met her gaze and shrugged.
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Akula galloped through the plains with Connie following behind her with the horse she bought for her wagon, whose name she barely remembered.
The two did not talk all along the way, and Connie did not ask where she was taking her.
“We are here,” Akula said when they arrived at a cliff where they could see Courandhel. Connie dismounted from the horse, tied him onto a nearby tree, and walked up to the Centaur.
“This is the place where I first saw the city. When I first laid eyes on it, I was so excited I shouted in happiness. I have never seen something so big and so wondrous in all my life,” she shared with a faint smile. “But when I was inside, I find out that it was really different from what I expected.”
Akula stood silently a few paces before Connie. Four hooves planted onto the ground. She never liked the feel of the soil here. It was wrong. It was salty and strange. And the people spoke with forked-tongue and hidden daggers.
“I met so many different people. Good men, bad men. From the lowborn to the highborn. But only some managed to keep my interest.”
Within the few weeks she arrived in Courandhel, she had experienced more than she had experienced in the twenty turns of seasons in the Grasslands. She had been charmed by an evil Hero, trapped and then saved. She fought a man so strong he destroyed half a forest with one move. He was charged for helping in killing said Hero and then now touted and honored for killing that same Hero.
And it all started with meeting the young girl before her.
“And one of them is you.”
“Oh? How so?”
“I had a chance to talk with the Hero of Calendia when we visited the Palace. I asked him the same thing that I asked the King.”
“What is a Hero,” Connie repeated the question. “And…what is his answer?”
Akula shook her head, a helpless look showing from above her veil. “That meeting you caused him to doubt his path.”
“Is that so? Then are you going to ask me the same question again? My answer is still the same.”
“No. I am going to ask you a different one.”
Akula turned to her, her face was stern and her eyes aglow with resolution.
“Tell me this, Connie,” Akula took out the fearsome Sukheri from her Item Ring on her thumb and swung it once. The force of her swing sundered the air.
“Are you evil?”