The Requiem Of An Empress 10 Mien: Δ?Λο?「Dolos」

"Please be civil and ask us how we feel about your antics."- d.u.c.h.ess Tristan rarely spoke of any disapprobation towards the operations a.s.signed to the knights. Withal, it seems that the Emperor went past the reasonable threshold of despotism that she was willing to tolerate.

"Why would I when I am aware of your perspectives?"- The Emperor's governance dictates that his Knights have a say in the final verdict of matters concerning the Empire since he highly values their opinions. Howbeit, in this particular issue, he isn't inclined to yield dominance.

That query, or rather statement, obtained him the discontented glares of the four knights.

"I am sincerely hoping that you're all cognizant that my heart is also aching for our comrades whose lives are in imperilment.", The Emperor uttered, sounding as if he was delivering a propaganda.

Israfel scowled at the Monarch's little speech.

"Your sympathy is lacking substance, you jest. You're working your pets to the bones whilst you're sitting comfortably in your throne, then incessantly spout nonsense of false compa.s.sion? What a hypocrite you are, Your Majesty."

"Phrasing 'Your Majesty' after insulting me doesn't count as a show of respect, Marquis Morholt."

"Labelling a command as a request doesn't count as us doing you a favour, Emperor Seraphiel."

The two people stared at each other, refusing to back down on their words.

'Oh, here we go again.' Iophiel nearly wanted to slap his face upon witnessing an addition to the many pointless banters that these companions of him have had. In the end, he is the only person inside the room who can mediate the mental skirmish.

"Israfel, apologize to His Majesty. You were out of the line."

Needless to say, Marquis Morholt knew that he committed the offence. He was simply accommodating his shortcoming of having an obdurate personality. The knight lowered his head and stated his apologies.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I know that it is not right to lash out on you. However, please be sensible enough to notice that you haven't elucidated your reasoning behind this behest."- Israfel's articulation fell short of a plea and came out as a criticism.

Nevertheless, The Emperor prefers reprehension above bootlicking.

"I will enlighten everybody of the circ.u.mstances the moment that this ordeal concludes. For now, I'm compelling the four of you to take your seats on the audience side."

***************************************

Sarakiel became curious of the contents of the scroll when Mikhail's aura hosted a terrible killing intent. The image of receiving the direct focus of the aura terrified him. Thus, he waited until his captain could share the purpose of the scroll in lieu of asking first.

When he found his calm next to letting a few seconds pa.s.s, Percival lobbed the scroll to Sarakiel; the latter caught it with one hand.

Duke Helian glided his eyes on the golden pa.s.sage, dispirited by the end of it. He gawked at the parchment he was holding as his stomach felt like it was churning. He swallowed his saliva prior to speaking.

"Isn't this a necromancer's spell for controlling the dead?! To be more precise, this spell can turn a creature, who recently lost its life force, into a higher undead and give the caster the authority to command an army of them for a limited time. Did the Emperor already deduce that we will die in this mission?"

The Duke suppressed a moan that was threatening to spill out of his mouth. He was at a loss on how to deal with the discovery.

'You were the one who forbade us from practising and utilizing the art of necromancy! You said that it was inconsiderate and vile to manipulate the dead! What is this farce?!'- Presently, a storm of thoughts was wreaking havoc in his mind, justifying the indignation he was conceiving.

"Sarakiel, let's not delve into it too deeply."

Mikhail's detached voice that suddenly resonated in the air left Sarakiel no room to compose himself, so his response displayed his indifference.

"Y-yes?"

"The Emperor wanted me to use this, right?"

"I think so... My Lord. I'm really sorry."

Sarakiel clenched his fists fiercely tight that they almost went white. He held himself accountable for taking the role as the herald of the Emperor's uncertain modus operandi. The knight coveted to allude the termination of the plan. Withal, he cannot seem to formulate the sentence needed to convey it perfectly.

"Don't worry. It's not your fault." Mikhail a.s.sured his subordinate that the blame was not on him after seeing the remorse on his visage. He sauntered towards Duke Helian and took the scroll out of his grip. Succeeding that, he ignited the scroll with his pitch-black flames.

"I won't acquiesce to that b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a man. I hope he'll have a d.a.m.n hard time scouring the continent for my replacement. Let's go hunt, Sarakiel."

The Duke bowed his head to indicate his agreement, resolving to have the same degree of determination that his comrade possessed.

"I will aid you to your victory, Lord Mikhail."

"I'll entrust Ronove to you."

"Roger that."

With that, they dashed through the forest straight ahead, destroying everything that blocked their paths, to reach the centre of the island as soon as possible.

A while of quietude enveloped the surroundings when the two knights left the edge of the woods. The last piece of the black parchment that has yet to burn into ashes landed on Khamael, and a dim light engulfed his body.

***************************************

'From where did I read that?'

Lauviah hurriedly returned to her mansion once she fulfilled all of her duties for the dier. The instant she arrived at her home outside of the castle, she scampered in the direction of her enormous library and raided every single bookshelf.

'I can solely remember the words psalmus David domino, or was it domine?'

Even though she'd already fiddled away hours of her time and made a disarray of her formerly organized archives, her rummaging ended up for naught.

'Not here? Then I'll try the libraries inside the castle.'

Countess Lukan's inquisitiveness went beyond the 'genuinely curious' stage. Her main objective was to obtain a clue of the Empress' ident.i.ty.

'Or if possible, something that will garner her the bad blood of the n.o.bles. If only I wasn't being monitored, I wouldn't have gone and apologize to that degenerate.'

Countess Lauviah Lukan loathed the woman who took her position as the Empress of the Empire.

'I was the crown princess! I was supposed to claim the throne as the mother of the Empire!'

She acted prim and proper as a facade to secure the respect of the aristocratic party. She even goes out of her way to solve the problems of other people, a phoney of a martyr. Unbeknownst to them, she harnesses an ugliness in her heart that is second to no one.

Well, disappointment will surely devastate her when she realizes that her efforts wouldn't bear any fruit under plenty of grounds. The Emperor himself didn't acknowledge her role as the crown princess in the first place. The 11th seat in the Knights of the Round Table was given to Lauviah as a compensation for her loss in the compet.i.tion for the throne. Her facade doesn't work as exemplary as she thought, exposing her emotions like the paragraphs of an opened book.

In the room where she was all alone, Lauviah was boiling with indiscriminate madness.

"I will drag that woman down to hottest pits of h.e.l.l!"

***************************************

The two knights reached a wide clearing in the forest where an unusually large crow and a similarly-sized primate are hanging around.

"It appears that preys antic.i.p.ate their predators now. How nature has changed."

Mikhail unsheathed his sword and a.s.sumed a battle stance.

"It's time for carnage."

"⬛⬛⬛!"

"Shut your trap, bird brain."

"⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛."

"I don't f*cking understand a term that's coming out from that filthy beak of yours."

'Is this even a conversation?'

Sarakiel stood, unmoving, behind Mikhail who kept on responding to Malphas even though he cannot comprehend what it was saying.

'Still, the more uncanny thing here is, why are there no other demons save for these two?'

Malphas, the raven black crow, is in command of an army measuring up to forty legions while Ronove, the primate, has twenty. Those account for a force totalling nearly a million soldiers. It won't be befuddling if a crowd of demons and monsters jumped on them in an instant, yet the knight wasn't able to sense the presence of other beings, tribe people included, except for the four of them.

'I guess their confidence in dealing with us with just the two of them isn't baseless. Are we that easy of an opponent?'

Sarakiel extended his right hand in front of him, as if to grab an invisible object. With his eyes closed, he started to gather mana in his hand. He waited until the amount was ample for a summoning before casting a spell.

"Cresco, le Blanc."

A blinding light, imitating the colour of a clear sky, bosomed from his hand and gradually took on the form of a sword. Sarakiel veered it hard on the side, shattering the illumination like it was gla.s.s.

'Unfortunately for you demons, we aren't as kind as you think.'

A coal-black hilt reared with an inky star diopside pommel; topped by a rain guard decorated with a network of vines to hold the misty white blade; it is the holy sword le Blanc.

Although the knights have their own weapons of preference, the Emperor bestowed a holy sword to each and every one of the Rounds and designated them as a veiled symbol of authority.

Duke Sarakiel Helian is a notable genius in his proficiency with the bow, but when the odds are against him, he borrows the Emperor's power by wielding a claymore named le Blanc.

As if on cue, Mikhail and Sarakiel disappeared in a blink. They abruptly appeared on top of the heads of the demon n.o.bles.

Percival, with both of his hands gripping the handle, swung the sword down in an attempt to cut Malphas' body. However, the crow, that was somehow clutching a spear with its left wing, parried the blade weakly. The knight then descended on the ground and prepared to block the incoming attack of Malphas from above. He put one of his hand on the hilt, another on the tip of the blade, and endured the weighty strike of the Demon n.o.ble. Mikhail pushed with all of his strength to ward off the demon's weapon laterally. Malphas staggered, but managed to regain its balance in a jiffy.

"That was heavy, you tw*t!"

"⬛⬛⬛���⬛⬛⬛."

"Crows don't speak, they squawk. Act like a bird you whiny sh*t."

"⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛."

Mikhail dashed towards Malphas, vaulting a meter away to meet the creature eye-to-eye. He did not spot that a magical orb instantly materialized on his right side. Lacking in foothold, Mikhail quickly placed his sword on the right to counter. Since the Demon n.o.ble exceeded him in magical power, the beam that came out of the orb catapulted him to a tree. The trunk was significantly dented, flaunting the explosive impact.

Luckily, Mikhail was able to conjure a spherical s.h.i.+eld in the midst of his flight, earning him no injuries. He stood up and stared at Malphas who exclusively stared back at him devoid of any hostility.

'Again? Three times that my sword met his spear, and in all of those occasions, that b.a.s.t.a.r.d was trembling. Is it the same with Sarakiel?', the knight was bemused of his observations, s.h.i.+fting his gaze towards his comrade in the process.

He discerned that something was off when Sarakiel remained motionless in the middle of the field.

"Sarakiel! Are you hurt? What's the matter?", he shouted just enough for Duke Helian to hear.

Mikhail breathed a sigh of relief when his ally turned his head to confront him. Though he did that, the look on the eyes of Sarakiel, which were burning with rage, kept him on edge. He readily made his way to Duke Helian's location.

"What is wrong with you?", Percival immediately asked, so that they could address it at once.

Regardless of his open-mindedness, the knight captain could simply treat the ensuing utterance of his subordinate as preposterous.

"Ronove, that Demon n.o.ble is unconscious, and Malphas is being influenced by a powerful hypnosis spell. Who could've done these measures?"