Please note: This chapter consists of sensitive parts that may be disturbing or traumatizing to some readers. Continue on your own discretion or skip this if you feel uncomfortable.
The red firelight reflected Garlan’s pale face lying in Heimos’ arms, and his lips were even more faded. Yet, the lines drawn with blood red paint on the neck became redder under the firelight, and formed a sharp and extreme contrast with the pale skin.
The child laid quietly in his arms, with sickly lips and cheeks, and a weak breath. The droopy eyelashes were like fragile broken butterfly wings, and it was as if he would stop breathing in the next second.
The blood on his wrists and ankles intertwined with the red lines drawn. In the dark night, one couldn’t see clearly. At first glance, a large puddle of blood was seen, as if blood was going to flow out and exhaust this small body.
Heimos even saw that the hands of the child in his arms were stained with blood, and the horrifying blood red stained the boy’s eyes red. At this moment, his brain was blank, and he dumbfoundedly stayed in place at a loss.
With a clatter, a small cyan bottle was thrown on the ground and rolled in front of him.
Heimos subconsciously grabbed the bottle and glanced up.
King Camos, who threw the item to him, didn’t look at him, but had his head turned away, scanning the surroundings with a pair of piercing tiger-like eyes.
On the opposite side, those devoted believers had already rushed from all directions. Their faces were distorted. They had a look of not being afraid of death and rushed towards them like lunatics.
“Apply this medicine for him,” King Camos said solemnly in a clear-cut voice.
Warriors, who had fought on the battlefield for many years, would have the habit of carrying medicine with them, especially medicine for injuries such as cuts and open wounds. Camos, who was a king but was accustomed to fighting on the battlefield, naturally took it with him, and it was definitely the best medicine.
After speaking, he looked at the crowd of devoted believers who came over and snorted mockingly. In his eyes, those people were like clay chickens and pottery dogs1(Actual word: 土鸡瓦犬) It is a metaphor that refers to completely useless people., and decayed tree stumps.2(Actual word:朽木枯株) It is a metaphor for a decayed, useless person or thing.
Even when a group of ants gathered, it was still a group of inferior ants.
He pulled on the reins and clamped his legs over the steed under him. The horse that had been fighting with him on the battlefield for a long time had already been in harmony with him. When Camos moved, it immediately bowed its head and rushed towards the crowd like a thunderbolt.
Speeding forward on the destrier3Also known as a war horse., the mighty king raised his sword aloft.
The huge sword that was as wide as Camos’ two arms together, reflected the thunderous cold light in the dark night. This sword that had been dunked into the blood of enemies countless times was being waved down like a sickle in the hands of the Grim Reaper in the dark—
Without any fancy skills, King Camos lightly slashed the nearly a hundred devoted believers who came rushing towards him.
At this time, dozens of people who rushed to the front were severely ripped apart, and their chests were split open, revealing visible deep wounds. They fell to the ground, unable to live any longer.
King Camos slashed the devoted believers who were rushing up to him. His eyes were full of contempt when he looked down at those people.
The king of beasts wouldn’t be afraid when the number of rats were ten hundred times his own.
For King Camos, no matter how many people rushed up, this mob was made up of those who were scum and weak.
And in fact, it was the truth.
King Camos stood before the bonfire on horseback. He was alone and invincible.
The devoted believers who rushed up one by one were slashed to death by his sword. Countless mutilated corpses piled up in front of him, and numerous people who were cut, rolled on the ground and screamed in pain.
Even the most terrifying and craziest followers of the An-Ki Cult were shocked by the power of King Camos. They stopped in their tracks, hesitated, and cowered.
They stood still. Their faces turned blue, and they looked at the man who was riding a horse by the bonfire with bated breaths.
The King of Aaron Landis, known as the “Lion King” by the world.
The lion-like king looked down at them with scorching eyes, contemptuously and arrogantly. He regarded them like ants.
The fire was jumping, reflecting light on the side of King Camos’ cheeks. The blade of the big white sword in his hand dripped with blood, frightening the followers at first glance.
In the dark, King Camos rode on the ground alone, and his whole body was untouched for several meters.
When he was there, no one dared to take a step closer to him.
Those cult followers were all blocked by King Camos, and Heimos had time to help.
He hurriedly poured out the white lotion from the medicine bottle and wiped it on Garlan’s bleeding wrists and ankles, and then used his teeth to tear off a few strips of cloth from the hem of his clothes and bandage the wound with the medicine.
The light-colored cloth strips were quickly stained by the blood that was still leaking out, but fortunately, it didn’t take long for the medicine to take effect. The blood puddle eventually stopped expanding.
Heimos breathed a sigh of relief. He stretched out his fingers and put them in front of Garlan’s nose. The breath that touched his fingers lightly gave him a sense of peace.
There was a little lotion left in the medicine bottle, and he poured it all out and gently rubbed the scabs on the throat of the child in his arms.
Thinking of the scene he saw from afar not long ago, he still felt distressed in his heart.
Just a little bit, just a little bit short—
The fragile throat of the child in my arms would have been slit.
At that moment, he even thought he had seen the blood spurting out from Garlan’s throat into the night sky.
If it hadn’t been for King Camos shooting an arrow through the palm of the black-robed man and immediately causing the dagger to be dropped, he was afraid he would be holding onto a cold corpse at the moment.
The child was in his arms now. With a small body, soft and warm, it made him reluctant to let go.
But precisely because of the warmth, the thought of the possibility of the person in his arms becoming cold, Heimos felt an unbearable feeling.
He held Garlan and turned his head to look.
In the dark night, the young man’s eyes slowly swept over the believers who wore similar black and blue robes around him. The fire fell into his pupils, making the golden-red eyes feel like some kind of palpitating cold flame was burning within them.
It wasn’t bright, but it seemed to come from the abyss, giving off a very terrifying feeling.
Just when the believers could no longer bear the fear of the Lion King from the bottom of their hearts, some began to retreat and others turned around.
The first believer who wanted to turn around and run wildly just turned his head, but before his body could follow, his eyes looked straight, and his whole person froze in place.
Countless warriors wearing leather armor and riding war horses stood neatly behind them at some unknown time, the sharp silver spears in their hands flashed with a forceful cold light in the darkness.
The group of warriors who followed King Camos on countless battlefields stood there quietly, and the blood-seeking aura emitting from them overwhelmed everything.
They stood in the dark; they were the invincible iron and blood warriors under the Lion King.
The believer, who was mentally defeated almost instantly, felt his feet weaken, and he fell to the ground.
Then, more and more believers who wanted to turn around and escape, saw the countless knights behind them and began to collapse. They either slumped on the ground or screamed and ran away. Some even tried to rush into the dense forest not far away, wanting to use the terrain to get rid of these warriors.
On the dark horse, the brown-haired king raised the big sword in his hand into the void ahead.
That was the king’s silent command.
The warriors who had been standing still, moved, and for an instant, with just a sprint, their silver spears pierced the throats or chests of the believers who tried to escape.
It was a totally one-sided battle.
Not one was spared.
This was the silent kingship commanded by the sword that slashed in the air in King Camos’ dynasty.
The loyal warriors meticulously carried out the orders of their king.
The screams of the believers who enshrined this altar sounded from the wide sacrificial platform. They screamed and prayed to their God to save them. However, the God that they had dedicated countless flesh and blood to didn’t appear, let alone rescue them.
They could only run away, and then fall one by one under the warriors’ silver spears and swords.
Ironically, these believers eventually dyed this black slate that was used to sacrifice to the gods, with their own blood.
But no one would sympathise with them. When these believers sent the innocent and weak children to the altar, their bodies and even their souls were already imprinted with the mark of sin.
These sins could only be washed away with death.
Camos scanned the surroundings, but the bloody scene didn’t move him at all.
His long experience on the battlefield had already carved his heart into stone. He was the patron saint of his people, but to his enemies, he was like a devil.
There were women and children among these believers, and Camos didn’t have the intention of letting them go. He, who had wiped out the An-Ki Cult, knew that these seemingly weak and harmless women and children, as long as they entered the cult, were no less brutal than men—these seemingly pitiful women and underage young believers had personally sent countless innocent children to the altar and to hell.
These women and children were not worthy of sympathy.
It was impossible to let them go because of pity today. They’d already been thoroughly brainwashed and would not repent at all. This would only lead to more innocent lives being lost in their hands in the future.
What Camos wanted to protect had always been the kind, upright, and orderly people among Aaron Landis. These believers with blood on their hands were not the people he wanted to protect, but criminals he must wipe out. They had seriously jeopardized the safety of Aaron Landis.
It didn’t take long, and the screams one after another gradually disappeared. After all, most of these followers of the An-Ki Cult were ordinary people. The devoted believers were no better than regular people. Facing the guards of King Camos who had stepped on the bloody sea of corpses, they had no power to fight back.
With a wave of Camos’ great sword, he chopped one of the leaders, who was trying to escape, to the ground.
The believer clutched the deep visible bond wound in his chest, coughed up blood, and stared viciously at Camos on the horse.
“King Camos who persecuted my cult…”
He was vomiting blood and gasping, making intermittent noises.
“We are not going to perish… An-Ki is here. My cult is… God is watching us.”
He looked at Camos with hatred, and said something like a curse.
“The persecutors of God… Oh king of violence, you will receive retribution, and this kingdom will also receive retribution… God will not forgive you, God will bring disasters on the land of Aaron Landis… We curse you, curse Aaron Landis…”
The last intermittent sentence was not finished, and the long sword penetrated deeply into his chest, causing the believer’s voice to abruptly cease.
King Camos drew out his big sword and indifferently swung the bloody blade on his shoulders.
He looked down at the corpse and grinned arrogantly. The tall and majestic figure made people think he was a superior being.
“I am the King of Aaron Landis, no matter who it is, as long as you are in Aaron Landis, you have to obey this King’s orders, and your God is no exception.”
He said in an understated tone of voice.
“If your god is dissatisfied, let him come to me, and I will answer.”
He was the King of Aaron Landis, he would protect this country and his people.
To the one who wanted to harm Aaron Landis, even if it was the so-called God, he dared to fight against it!
As night fell, the morning sun had risen from the distant horizon.
The brilliance of the morning light shone, and the golden-brown hair of King Camos, who was riding a horse, illuminated like the burning sun.
Ziemuer got off his horse and walked over quickly.
He frowned as he saw the little prince with blood on his hands and feet, and a weak breath.
From the very beginning, he didn’t approve of Garlan, as a prince, taking personal risks for the children of low-level civilians. Even now, he thought as such. However, Garlan, who he had always thought would be almost incapable of doing anything in the future, was instead able to do such a thing. It really surprised him, and his perspective somewhat changed.
Even if Garlan’s behaviour was not in compliance with the rules, at least the child’s courage in the face of danger made him appreciate the boy.
Although the little prince usually looked squeamish and ignorant, he was still reliable during critical moments.
The priest of Shamash thought as he leaned over and wanted to take Garlan from Heimos. But just as he stretched out his hand, the young man who had been holding Garlan, sitting quietly on the ground, suddenly raised his head and glanced at him.
The cold breath that flicked through those golden-red eyes made his heart palpitate for an instant.
After being startled in place for a while, Ziemuer’s expression became serious.
“Prince Heimos, please give me His Royal Highness Garlan. He needs a better arrangement.”
Heimos lowered his eyes, said nothing, and didn’t move. Only his lips tightened, and the bits of black hair scattered across his forehead cast a deep shadow in his eyes.
He got up without saying a word, grabbed Ziemuer’s horse, put Garlan on it, and then jumped onto the horseback by himself.
When Ziemuer wanted to speak, a voice came from next to him.
“Ziemuer, let him take care of Garlan,” Camos continued, “You have to help with the follow-up. Over there, you have to deal with the group of children.”
Ziemuer glanced at the corner of the altar, where there was a group of children. Half of them were petrified and had fainted, while the other half were crying.
“Yes, King Camos.”
He replied, took another deep look at Heimos, then turned and walked towards the others.
The sun rose, the day passed, and then slowly sank into the horizon.
After a busy day, King Camos finally took care of the follow-up work. He gobbled up the dried meat while talking vaguely.
“How is Garlan?”
“The prince is faring well. There is no danger, but he has lost too much blood and needs to rest for a while.”
“That’s good.” Camos breathed a sigh of relief.
“Where is Heimos? Is he still there?”
He had countless affairs on hand, so even if he was worried about Garlan in his heart, he had to work hard to deal with other matters first.
He heard that Heimos kid was with Garlan all day.
Tsk, why can that boy accompany Garlan? Yet he had to be distressed about his injured little brother while being so bitterly busy?
Tch, it’s so uncomfortable.
Ziemuer frowned and then spoke, “…Speaking of this, King Camos, I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Because of some accidents, the living environment of Heimos, compared to the ordinary royal children, was very different from a young age… Maybe his excellence beyond others is precisely because of his experiences that are different from ordinary people. However, those experiences brought him not only outstanding talents, but also some other problems.”
Ziemuer remembered the look Heimos had given him not long ago. Even he was startled and his heart trembled.
Yes, he had always been extremely satisfied with Heimos’ outstanding aptitude, but Heimos was only twelve or thirteen years old, and for him to actually have those kinds of eyes, it was simply—
By now, he had to admit that in terms of mental strength, Heimos was probably inferior to Garlan.
“Prince Heimos, he seems to be beginning to develop in the direction of paranoia. And… En, maybe it is my illusion, but I feel that his paranoia seems to have a tendency based on His Royal Highness Garlan. If this continues, I’m afraid it will be bad for both princes.”
Ziemuer looked at King Camos as he spoke..
“So, King Camos, I think, for these two princes, it would be better to keep both of them at a distance from each other.”
Apologies for the late update!
Hope everyone is well? :0
- 1(Actual word: 土鸡瓦犬) It is a metaphor that refers to completely useless people.
- 2(Actual word:朽木枯株) It is a metaphor for a decayed, useless person or thing.
- 3Also known as a war horse.