Chapter 63: The Royal Capital Knights
Misha panicked a little.
He wanted to push the Hero’s hand away, trying to extricate himself from this awkward and controlled situation. But he had to hold the sword in front of him, so he could only twist his body awkwardly, reaching his free hand over his head to push Lance’s hand away with all his might.
“You… I advise you to be careful,” Misha threatened forcefully. “I have a weapon in my hand!”
“Mm.” Lance didn’t even open his eyes, simply going along with Misha’s words. “I support you stabbing me to death.”
Misha: “…”
Misha felt Lance was looking down on him.
But he had no choice.
Lance had grasped his weakness effortlessly. Lance knew very well that Misha wouldn’t actually hurt him. And unless Misha really fought with lethal intent, he definitely couldn’t beat Lance.
That meant, unless Lance truly did something unforgivable, he was always safe in front of Misha.
Misha closed his eyes angrily.
He still held the sword and made up his mind that, at least for tonight, he absolutely would not move this sword away.
He didn’t need sleep and wouldn’t fall asleep casually. But he had to cooperate with Lance, pretending they were both asleep. He didn’t want to stare at the Hero’s hateful face all night. Even if he couldn’t sleep, he… he could close his eyes and pretend.
Anyway, it wouldn’t be long before dawn. Once the sun rose, he would definitely grab this hateful Hero and demand the rest of the information!
Misha hadn’t expected to fall asleep again.
For him, this was almost an impossible occurrence. Not to mention, this time he slept even more deeply, without the intermittent waking of the previous sleep. In fact, by the time he came to his senses and opened his eyes, it was broad daylight.
Misha couldn’t figure it out.
He couldn’t possibly fall asleep twice in one night due to Arlo’s “potion.” Before, he had suspected that Lance used some method—like illusion or magic—to make him drowsy so he could go destroy the Gate. But this later time… the Gate was already destroyed. Lance wouldn’t use that magic on him again, right?
Besides, what magical spell was that? As a Demon Lord proficient in countless spells, Misha hadn’t noticed a thing.
It was incredible; Misha found it strange himself.
He sat up in bed and turned to look beside him.
The Hero was gone. The equipment and clothes the Hero had placed by the table yesterday were also gone. Misha sat in a daze for a moment, groggily thinking about the events of the previous night—the Hero talked to him so much; surely it wasn’t a tactic to stall for time to escape?
Misha looked at his hand.
The Hero’s sword was still in his hand.
Rubbing his groggy head, Misha stared blankly at the sword for a while. The sword looked unremarkable, no different from a broken iron sword sold by a roadside blacksmith for one silver coin. But it shouldn’t be the sword Lance took from the Dwarven Clan.
If Misha remembered correctly, the sword the Dwarf City Lord Ocean gave Lance as a reward looked ordinary but was newer and seemed to be made of better material. The sword currently in Misha’s hand was somewhat worn; the grip was frayed, and the scabbard bore several slash marks from battle. This seemed to be the sword the Hero took from the Blessed Land.
The Hero had kept such an ordinary, broken sword with him all this time. Judging by the wear, it had been used for a while. Misha naturally thought—maybe this sword was brought by the Hero from his original world, and it might retain some information related to the Hero.
Misha glanced carefully at the closed door. After confirming no one would barge in, he narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to use the Demon Lord’s Eye to see if any magic from the Gate to Another World remained on the sword.
But as soon as he opened his eyes, he was startled by the twisted magic adhering to the sword.
Starting from the longsword in his hand, dark purple twisted magic diffused outward, almost filling the entire room. But it wasn’t magic inherent to the sword itself; it was more like it had been forcibly attached to the blade due to some event. For example—Lance used this sword to forcibly destroy the Gate to Another World.
Arlo had said the Gate might be damaged by Ancient Magic, but never mentioned a way to completely destroy it. But Misha thought, anything in this world, whether a miracle or not, could be easily destroyed if one possessed absolute “force.”
Yes, as long as Lance’s own power was strong enough, he could smash the Gate even with a broken rock.
This was practically ironclad proof that Lance destroyed the Gate. If someone could perceive the magic remaining in the surrounding space like he did, Lance would be exposed in an instant.
Thinking of this, Misha actually sighed in relief.
Fortunately, he couldn’t help thinking.
Arlo didn’t have this ability, and ordinary humans couldn’t do it either. Powerful mages might, but given his understanding of human mages, he feared there were few in the entire world who could do this.
The elven town was so remote and backward; surely they wouldn’t run into one just by stepping out the door?
Misha restored his human vision.
He sighed, unable to understand why things had suddenly turned out like this overnight.
The Hero chosen by the gods became the enemy of the gods.
And he, the Demon Lord of the Divine Realm, was actually helping the enemy of the gods hide his identity.
Damn it, is the Demon Lord’s job always this tiring? He never wants to leave the Divine Realm to be a Demon Lord again!
But fortunately, there was at least one thing that comforted him.
At least Lance hadn’t discovered his identity as the Demon Lord yet.
Once he figured out the Hero’s purpose, whatever this Hero wanted to do or however he tried to toss this world around naturally had nothing to do with him.
That was for the gods to worry about. At that time, he just needed to trick the Hero into the Demon Lord’s Castle, find a random opportunity to let the Hero “kill” him, and he could return to the Divine Realm.
Since things were already like this, he didn’t care about face anymore. He didn’t need to die heroically; he just needed to successfully deal with this mess.
Misha stood up holding the Hero’s sword. Before he could reach the door, he heard a noisy commotion outside, mixed with chaotic footsteps. Thinking the Hero had caused some strange trouble again, he felt nervous and hurriedly opened the door, almost bumping into the person standing right outside.
It was a knight in full plate armor, wearing a helmet that revealed only a pair of eyes through the slit. The eyes looked extremely cold, staring straight at Misha.
Misha: “…”
Knight: “…”
Misha: “…Hello?”
The knight turned back around, obviously not wanting to talk to Misha.
Misha: “…”
He carefully looked into the town, realizing that knights were patrolling every few steps outside. The motionless knight at his door must be standing guard.
These knights were well-equipped and dressed uniformly. Whether it was the ornaments they wore or their capes, a clear crest was visible. And that pattern… hmm, Misha had seen it on Ashby’s butt before.
Oh, no, it was Ashby’s pants.
Or rather, Samuel’s pants.
That meant these knights were people sent by the Church.
Misha didn’t know how the elves contacted the Church so quickly. Judging by the number of people sent, the Church took the destruction of the Gate extremely seriously. If they didn’t investigate thoroughly, they probably wouldn’t let it rest.
Knowing the truth, Misha was very nervous.
He should have been an irrelevant bystander in this matter, yet he was forced to be associated with the real culprit. Not only that, but he also had to assist the culprit in hiding the truth, lying and doing things against his conscience.
But since the Church’s people were here, they… should be able to leave, right?
As long as they left this place, he wouldn’t be exposed for his poor lying skills, and the Hero wouldn’t be easily exposed. After all, except for him knowing what kind of terrifying person this Savior Hero was, others shouldn’t be able to see through the Hero’s disguise.
So Misha took a step back and slowly shrank back into the room.
The knight seemed to find him strange, looking back to eye him oddly several times. Misha could only give an awkward smile to the knight while quickly closing the door, wishing he could pack his bags and run immediately.
He didn’t want to stay in this place anymore.
He would go persuade Samuel and Arlo later. Their goal was to urge the Hero to save the world quickly. This place was too chaotic with too many issues; they shouldn’t stay here any longer.
Misha had just closed the door and hadn’t even sneaked to the bed when he heard a burst of knocking. Startled, he jumped over, thinking the knights wanted to question him. Then he heard Samuel’s overly excited voice.
“Divine Envoy Misha!” Samuel shouted. “Are you awake!”
He sounded way too happy. The tone didn’t sound like the Church had sent people to solve a problem; it sounded more like the culprit had been caught.
Wait.
Misha paused, subconsciously turning back to look at the empty, intact bed in the room.
He hadn’t seen the Hero since he woke up. Could it be the Hero had been caught?!
No, no, no, the Hero was so cunning, how could he be caught!
Samuel being so happy must be because of something else!
Misha took a deep breath, suppressing the nervousness in his heart, and opened the door.
“Samuel.” He even squeezed out a dry laugh. “Is something the matter?”
“Divine Envoy Misha, the Royal Capital Knights have arrived.” Samuel couldn’t suppress the smile on his lips. “My brother wants to meet you. Lord Lance and Divine Envoy Arlo have already gone over.”
Misha instantly sighed in relief.
Fortunately, the Hero was fine.
He knew Samuel’s brother was the Captain of the Royal Capital Knights. His personal arrival was enough to show the importance the Church and the King attached to this matter. Since the legendary Savior Hero and Divine Envoys were here, it was naturally normal for the Knight Captain to be curious and want to meet them.
So Misha nodded and said, “I’ll change my clothes first.”
Wearing an enthusiastic and excited smile, Samuel said, “You’d better change into a more formal outfit… um, if you have one.”
Misha frowned in confusion. “More formal? Why?”
Samuel cleared his throat. “Besides my brother, there is also a big shot.”
Misha: “A big shot?”
Samuel: “In a little while, the High Priest will also arrive.”
Misha: “…”
Wait, the High Priest?
The one… whom he and Lance had casually lied about, describing as a Royal Capital Boxing Champion who was even better at fighting than Arlo?
And Samuel said Lance had already gone over impatiently…
The Hero couldn’t have gone over to see what the invincible human High Priest looked like, right?!
Misha gasped, regretting the lie he had told once again.
“There’s another piece of good news.” Samuel added, “The High Priest is a very powerful mage.”
Misha’s brain was written full with the words “Boxing Champion”; he could barely hear what Samuel was saying.
“He is proficient in the Art of Insight,” Samuel said. “As long as he goes near the Gate to Another World to take a look, he will definitely be able to catch the true culprit of this matter!”
Misha: “…”
Wait, Art of Insight?
Could that be magic similar to his Demon Lord’s Eye?!
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