The Requiem Of An Empress 39 1St Tuor: Apademak

The other Rounds couldn't agree more, since their worries were a.s.suaged by the mere knowledge that the Emperor had come to their aid.

Still, Iophiel was curious apropos something, so he questioned the knight commander.

"If there are five incoming individuals, and one of them is the Emperor, was the rest composed of the Demon n.o.bles?"

By good luck, Mikhail could now clearly survey the figures of the approaching individuals, enabling him to answer Iophiel's query correctly.

"Israfel and Jibrail are together with the Emperor. I presume that the remainders are Demon n.o.bles by virtue of Khamael's scroll reacting." The older Percival responded, keeping his gaze on the horizon.

Meanwhile, Duke Cynan contemplated on the information as he brought his left hand up to touch his chin. It wasn't the case that he's perturbed, but simply puzzled.

"My Lord, Sir Sagramore and Marquiss Morholt should have been travelling with Lord Claudas. What happened to the minister then?" Iophiel inquired, turning his attention towards the arriving group.

Mikhail did not fret over the thought that Zelel was along, because he was cognizant of the latter's strength. Furthermore, his accurate awareness of his knights' propensities allowed him to hypothesize what truly happened.

"Israfel and Jibrail probably didn't heed Zelel's words, and went running off on their own."

"I could actually see what you're saying, My Lord," Iophiel replied, enervated by only speculating how the Prime Minister spent his time babysitting two of their rowdiest comrades.

All of a sudden, a cough was heard at the far behind of the four Rounds. It came from Khamael who finally roused from his repose. He hoisted his body into a sitting position as he scrutinized his surroundings.

The Knight Commander noticed the knight's awakening, so he decided to address Khamael right away.

"Khamael, His Majesty is on his way here. You should stand up."

Mikhail's tone didn't have an ounce of concern, even coming off cruel by the urgency that it posed.

Withal, Khamael didn't mind it, silently adhering to the command as he rose from the uncomfortable dirt of a seat. He proceeded to saunter en route his companions who were facing southwards. Once he completely traversed the short distance, the younger Percival, who was yawning to rid his body off of the sleepiness, stood casually beside his brother.

On the other hand, Sarakiel observed the interactions between the siblings with his eyebrows furrowed.

'Can't he ask first if his brother is feeling well or not? And this Lord Khamael does not even show that he is upset!' Duke Helian frowned, p.i.s.sed at the insensitive Mikhail, and discontented on behalf of the obliging Khamael.

Muddled, Sarakiel just redirected his eyes to the group who's about to show up, else he would grumble regarding the commander's unfair treatment.

"They are almost here," Mikhail announce while he straightened his posture, and the other Rounds mirrored his action.

Concurrently, Israfel and Jibrail's acceleration increased two-fold to be capable in joining the rank earlier than the Emperor's advent, owing to the requirement that they ought to salute along with their comrades. Delightedly for the duo, they arrived in the nick of time, settling themselves at the left end of the line.

Mikhail has to lead the greeting, so he cleared his throat ahead of speaking.

"Your Majesty, Rakshena Ast Sacra Efidarum V-"

The knights' jaws stiffened when the Emperor came into full view.

Oblivious of the Rounds' reactions, the monarch lightly ceased his advance by using his right foot as a break. He made it look effortless, except it contrasted the patches of blood that was riddling his s.h.i.+rt, and the streams that were still flowing down from the orifices of his eyes and nose.

"Volhn Ohnia, What happened?!" Mikhail hollered in astonishment, glaring at the knights who had accompanied the Emperor. However, they refused to reply and meet his gaze, in fear of being admonished with a crime that they didn't perpetuate.

Perceiving the two stooges' behaviour, the Knight Commander hurriedly turned towards the monarch, hoping to be enlightened. Nevertheless, as usual, the Emperor wanted to divagate the topic.

"Enough of your ruckus. Take out all of your scrolls, and see if they match the Demon n.o.bles that I caught." The monarch uttered while he nighed Iophiel, Kahamel, Haniel, and Sarakiel, descrying their difficulty to breathe in the presence of Sovereignty.

One by one, he bestowed them with immunity from the harmful effects of his ability, and unhesitatingly returned to linger a meter in front of the rank.

Mikhail was exempted for the reason that his grimoire, that was blessed by the Pravinxoten temple, has a permanent protection from the non-magical skills of the Emperor.

"I decline, Your Majesty. You must be healed first." The Knight Commander blatantly defied the order, earning him the exasperated sigh of the Emperor.

"Are you going to be this insistent, Mikhail?"

"Your well-being is of priority."

"Your priorities are in disarray. We should be focusing on the mission."

Still and all, Mikhail did not back down on the redundant argument.

"Sarakiel!" He yelled, prompting the Duke to share his sentiments.

"I will concede with the Knight Commander, Your Majesty."

On the verge of taking his first step, Sarakiel was halted when the Emperor clicked his tongue all the while ruffling his hair. The monarch groaned forasmuch as his knights were too stubborn for his liking. He did not want to get indignant, but more pressing matters were waiting for their resolution.

"Your obstinacy and the persisting activation of Sovereignty are the things that are presently giving me an arduous time. If you covet for my misery to desist, then expedite the elimination of the Demon n.o.bles. I would also stab myself every second that the lot of you waste."

Knowing the Emperor's temperament, Mikhail was aware that he would be honest to his claim. They had no choice but to obey, even if it was against their will. Henceforth, with gritted teeth, Mikhail directed the Rounds.

"Check your scrolls, hurry!"

The owners Iophiel, Khamael, Haniel, and Jibrail did as they were told, taking out their scrolls from where they kept it; Israfel's scroll was in the Emperor's custody. Then, by order of seat, they reported their findings.

"The scroll is vibrating, albeit slightly, Your Majesty."

"There is no reaction from mine."

"The scroll in my possession is also quivering, Your Majesty."

They bided for the response of the last person, Jibrail. Withal, a few seconds have pa.s.sed, there was still no word from him.

"Jibrail, why are you not answering?" Mikhail queried Jibrail who remained silent.

The Emperor brought three Demon n.o.bles with him, and adding Sabnock, there were a total of four n.o.bles. Iophiel and Haniel's scrolls were resonating with their targets, and the scroll that would be utilized for Decarabia was in the monarch's person. Accordingly, they concluded that Jibrail might be in owners.h.i.+p of the scroll for the final demon.

"Umm, My Lord, a moment," Jibrail said as he searched his whole body for the scroll, yet it was for naught. Nervously laughing, the knight spoke, "Ah-hahaha, I seem to be missing mine."

"Come again?"

"It's missing. M-my scroll is missing."

"Missing? Are you suggesting that you lost it?" Mikhail reiterated his question out of obfuscation, anger slowly creeping up his countenance.

In an instant, Jibrail grovelled on the dirt afore the Emperor. They were in a mission that was crucial to the survival of many citizens, yet he had the audacity to be negligent, losing one of the key items. Humiliation, it was nothing but a humiliation for the knight.

"I profusely apologize, Your Majesty! I did not mean to squander something of great importance!" He bayed as he b.u.mped his head on the ground, clearly repentant of his sin.

Jibrail was antic.i.p.ating a reprimanding packed with enmity, though it was simply the Emperor's footsteps that he harkened.

"Here."

"Yes?"

Jibrail looked up, his eyes falling on a familiar scroll.

Subsequently, the Emperor also threw one towards Israfel. The two knights were confused about what had just occurred.

"This is yours, Jibrail. I picked it up inside the forest." The monarch indifferently declared as he handed the scroll to the knight.

"But I thought it was Israfel's?"

"I never said that the scroll I presented to the two of you was Israfel's. The one responsible for Decarabia is you, Jibrail."

Alleviated thought he might be, Jibrail felt more contrite. In addition to losing the scroll, the Emperor was the one who found it no less.

"I will properly accept punishment for this, Your Majesty."

"The punishment for you and Israfel will be due once we return to Atharia."

"If that is your wish, certainly, Your Majesty." Jibrail accepted his fate, bowing to the Emperor once more before embodying a knight's demeanour.

"Let's proceed." The monarch announced to the knights as the tension enveloped their circle.