Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The castle was simpler than expected. It seemed that the huge structure was only built for the purpose of serving as a military fortress, and it had no superfluous decoration except for the emblem of the Dragon Empire as well as some decorative swords, which hung from the wall.
They walked along the corridor to the room where Grand Duke Owen was. The eerie corridor echoed with their footsteps. Only one side of the corridor had its windows open, and the light came in through the high and narrow gaps of the windows, falling on some decorative shields on the other wall. It cast a hazy halo over the shields.
The guards and servants along the way saluted the visitors, and their apprehensive expressions showed that Grand Duke Owen, though awake, was by no means in good condition.
At the door of the grand duke’s room, an old man in white robes with blue trimming pushed the door open and walked out.
Graeme stepped forward and nodded at the old man. “I have brought the guests whom the grand duke wishes to see.”
The old man, Scholar Holman, raised his eyes to the line of people in front of him and spoke with a hint of disapproval in his voice, “I did not know there were so many people. The grand duke is not doing well…”
“The grand duke wants to see them,” Graeme repeated. “As far as I know, Scholar Holman, you are responsible for healing the grand duke’s wounds, not selecting his guests.”
“Reducing visitors is part of the healing process!”
“Holman! I am just a little hurt, and I am not dead yet! Let the guests in, do not stand in the way!” Another voice came from the room.
“Well, you lot may go in—as quietly as you can.”
Grand Duke Owen, a tall and sturdy old man with thick hair and a thick beard, was lying on the oak bed in the middle of the room. He looked at the guests sharply.
Sunlight shone in through the window. It should have brightened the room, yet the room was still dim. The darkness was everywhere. Everything in the room seemed to be covered with a shadowy veil, and even where the sun shone directly, the floor appeared dull as if something was covering it.
There was another person in the room. It was an expressionless silver-haired woman in a white dress. She stood next to the grand duke and lowered her head slightly as if she were the maid in charge of his household. When the visitors came in, she looked up only a little before bowed her head again without stirring.
“Ah, here you are,” said the old man in bed, laughing. His voice was calm and powerful. It did not look like he had been mortally wounded and nearly died. “The Prince and Princess of Izzo… Ah, I have heard your story. It was not easy for you to get here. How are things in your country? And you… the mystery group from the Basilica of the World Tree… You people are so mysterious. I asked the best scholars to look it up but no one knows a thing about the Basilica of the World Tree. You seem to have appeared out of nowhere.”
“Grand Duke Owen…” Charlemagne stepped forward and bowed before the legendary old man in bed, despite being a royal himself. “I heard that you were badly wounded, but now it is a relief to see you recovering.”
“Ah-ha, what nonsense recovery.” Owen laughed. “I am just hanging in there for the time being to see both of you and your mysterious friends.”
Grand Duke Owen’s sight then fell on Hao Ren. “I heard that you were just strolling through Black Pine Forest and easily won against a Gorgonian Lord?”
“It’s just a couple of special abilities that we have.” Hao Ren laughed. “We have eyes that can see straight through the dense fog in Black Pine Forest, and we happen to have some experience dealing with ancient weapons like Gorgonian Lords.”
“Some experience…” Grand Duke Owen chuckled at that. “Haha, that is an understatement—do you know how many people in the world can walk straight through Black Pine Forest like the lot of you? How many more can defeat the Gorgonian Lords? One Gorgonian Lord can destroy an entire regular army, let alone defeat it, but you…”
Charlemagne suddenly realized that the grand duke seemed to be focusing on Hao Ren, so he could not help interrupting, “Grand duke, excuse me for interrupting, my sister and I have an important mission. We need to meet Princess Constance as soon as possible.”
“She’s on the frontline now, but she knew that you were coming,” said Grand Duke Owen, waving his hand. “Do not worry, she will see you soon. Patience, young man. Patience is the most important quality, understand?”
Charlemagne opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but Awenna interrupted, “We understand.”
Then she whispered a few words to Charlemagne. He glanced at the silver-haired woman beside Grand Duke Owen with a little surprise and nodded.
“You and your Basilica of the World Tree,” Grand Duke Owen said, turning his attention back to Hao Ren. “I think it is not just a ‘hidden organization?”
Hao Ren did not know what the grand duke had in mind. “What do you mean?”
“Are you…” Grand Duke Owen frowned like he was trying to organize his sentence. “Do you have any old legends, prophecies or something that brings you back into the world at a particular time? The change of epoch, for example. Ha, shouldn’t a hidden organization like yours bring this up after seeing me?”
“Oh…” Hao Ren patted his head. “My apologies, that should be the way. But are you sure you do not want to stabilize your wound first? You may not live till tomorrow in this condition.”
Charlemagne and Awenna stared in disbelief at the grand duke, who was lying on his bed, full of energy with no sign of weakness. The silver-haired woman, who had been keeping her head down from the beginning, finally raised her head and gave Hao Ren a quick glance.
The grand duke froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Hahaha… You are interesting…”
“Grand Duke Owen, you…” Charlemagne could not stop himself. “Now you…”
“As I have said, I am only alive for the time being,” said Grand Duke Owen, looking at Charlemagne. “It is just that the average person cannot see it.”
Then he turned to Hao Ren and said, “You are right, I am dying. But how can you tell?”
“Never mind that,” said Hao Ren bluntly. “Let us see your wound.”
“It may be very frightening,” said the old general, laughing. “There are ladies here and young girls too. Do you really want to see it?”
“Yes, I would like to see it,” said Rheia, stepping forward and pointing at Grand Duke Owen’s chest. “Open it. The bandages and ointments are useless.”
Grand Duke Owen swallowed his smile and nodded in silence. Meanwhile, the silver-haired woman moved forward and gently lifted the blanket from his body.
The old general’s upper body was covered with a thick bandage, but there was no blood seeping from beneath it.
The silver-haired woman brushed her hand lightly over the bandage, and the thick bandage broke open, revealing the shocking truth below.
The flesh on Owen’s chest had festered and mutated. A twisted lacerated wound was on his right chest, and the flesh around the wound had turned dark purple and sunken in as if it had been eaten away by strong acid. The most frightening thing was that the wound and the festering flesh around it were moving!
The rotting mutated flesh was wriggling like it was alive, expanding its festering range. And in between the rotting flesh and the normal flesh, tiny spikes as well as teeth grew, ripping and devouring the healthy flesh around it.
Just a glance was enough to turn Awenna pale, and she stepped back immediately—but at least she did not scream.
“It hurt a lot at first, but I do not feel anything now,” Owen said, glancing down at his chest. “They are gradually replacing my body. A part of my nerves has been ‘eaten’ by them. Well, it is a relief.”
“Have you not tried any other treatment?” Charlemagne looked frightened but asked in a calm voice.
“We did try to cut away the rotten flesh, but it grows back immediately. So it will not help even if we dig the whole thing out. It seems to be rooted not in the body, but in my soul,” said Grand duke Owen in a cool manner. “We have tried ointment, magic, and even elvish blessings, but the change is irreversible. Only Scholar Holman’s secret skill has had a little effect on me. He cut part of my soul so I can now talk to you soberly, but it will not last long. I can already hear small voices buzzing in my head. Those blasphemous words are gnawing their way through Scholar Holman’s shield…”
