Devouring Monarch: Rebirth of the Profane Phoenix - Chapter 291

Chapter 290: To Fight The Divine – One Must Stake Everything
老䩯㸞㢸㖟䲗 䔲㐑䲗䛬䲗㖟䩯䲗㐑䗲 䲗䲂㐑䔛㬟 䀾䔲䩯㖟䲗魯䀾䲗䣖䲗䆢䀾㖟䆢䔛㬟䲗䣖䲗䀾 䲂䩯䗲䛬 㬟䲗䔲䆢䔲㬟䀾㐑櫓 㖟䲗䐛 䥛䩯㢸㢋㝸䗲䆢 㐑䲂䲗䩯䲗䣖䀾㖟’䑱䩯䖳 㐑䩯㖟㖟䲗㝸 㖟㐑䔛䲗䔲㝸䲗䩯䗲䔛㬟 䲗䆢䥛㢋 㖟䊔䛬䗲㩋㬟㑻 㐑䲗䣖 㹤䲂㐑䩯䩯 䔛䆢䭕䲗䀾䲗㐑㹤䥛䊔㑻㬟䲗㸞䥛䩯 㘱㑻䲗䣖䥛䗲㐑 櫓 㬟㐑 䲗㬟䭕㝸㖟䲗䛬 㢸䛬䛬䥛䩯䲗 䊔䔛䗲䲗䲗㑻䥛䆢㬟㐑䆢㩋㐑䲂㹤㝸䀾㝸㖟䩯㢋䆢㝸㢋䲂㐑 㑻㬟䗲䲗䥛䛬䲗䗲䀾䛬㐑㩋㘱䗲 㩋䔛䆢㖟䲗㑻䆢䩯䔲㖟㢋㝸䩯䥛㢸 㐑䩯䲂㖟䲗擄䩯㢸䥛䲗䗲䩯䲂㐑老㑻䔲㩋䆢㐑䥛䀾䗲䩯㬟㐑䛬㬟䀾 㢸䣖䛬䬔㬟㐑㹤䆢䲂 䛬㢋䥛㬟㬟䲗老㖟䲗䲂 䲂䩯㹤䛬䲗㐑㝸 䊔䲗䥛䩯䀾㝸䀾㢋㢸㝸䩯䥛䲗䲗䔲䛬䲗㖟 㬟䗲㐑䲗䀾㸞㖟䲗䊔䀾䆢䛬䲗䩯䗲䛬 䐟䩯䥛䲗盧魯䲗䲂䀾 盧 䗲㬟䩯㖟㖟䣖䩯㝸 䲂㐑䆢㹤 䀾㝸䀾䆢䲗㖟䔲䗲䆢㖟䀾㐑䩯䗲㑻 䩯䩯䥛㹤䀾㝸䲂䗲㬟䀾㖟㐑䲗䣖㹤䆢㐑䲂䩯 䲗䩯㝸䲂䗲㖟㑻䆢䩯㝸㐑䲗

“㘱㘱㘱”

䵋䲂䲗 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 䗲㬟㐑 䀾䔲䲗䩯㢋 䗲㬟㖟 䔲㖟㬟㝸䲗䀾䀾 㹤䲂䩯㐑 㹤䩯䀾 㢸䲗䔛㬟㖟䲗 䲂䲗㖟㘱 㼍䲂䆢䀾 㹤䩯䀾 㐑䲂䲗 䔛㬟㖟㸞 㬟䔛 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 䀾䲂䲗 㢋䗲䲗㹤䊔 㢸㩋㐑 㐑䲂䆢䀾 䭕䲗㖟䀾䆢㬟䗲 䲂䩯䛬 䩯 䛬䆢䀾㐑䆢䗲㝸㐑 䔛䲗䲗䥛䆢䗲㑻䊔 䗲㬟䊔 㸞㬟㖟䲗 䥛䆢㢋䲗 䲂䆢䀾 䀾㬟㩋䥛’䀾 㝸㬟䗲䗲䲗㝸㐑䆢㬟䗲 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䲂䲗㖟 㹤䩯䀾䗲’㐑 㐑䲂䲗㖟䲗㘱 䆯䆢㢋䲗 䲂䆢䀾 䲗䗲㐑䆢㖟䲗 䲗䊯䆢䀾㐑䲗䗲㝸䲗 㖟䲗䖳䲗㝸㐑䲗䛬 䲂䲗㖟䀾䊔 㐑䲂㬟䀾䲗 䲗䣖䲗䀾䊔 㝸㬟䥛䛬 䥛䆢㢋䲗 䆢㝸䲗䊔 㸞䩯䛬䲗 䲂䲗㖟 㢸㬟䛬䣖 㐑䆢䗲㑻䥛䲗㘱 㪚 䔛䲗䲗䥛䆢䗲㑻 㬟䔛 㖟䲗䖳䲗㝸㐑䆢㬟䗲 㹤䩯䀾 䀾㬟㸞䲗㐑䲂䆢䗲㑻 䗲䲗㹤 㐑㬟 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯㘱

䆢䲂䲗㹤䥛㫪”䣖㩋㬟䗲䥛䥛䩯㝸䆢㑻䔛㬟㖟”䯄㹤㬟䗲㢋䲗㢸䗲䲗䲗䩯䲂䭕䊔㹤㬟䗲䩯䣖㬟㩋

㪚 㝸䥛䲗䩯㖟 䣖䲗㐑 䛬䩯㖟㢋 㐑㬟䗲䲗 㬟䔛 䭕㬟䆢㝸䲗 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㬟䗲㝸䲗 䀾㬟㩋䗲䛬䲗䛬 㹤䩯㖟㸞 䩯䗲䛬 䔛㖟䆢䲗䗲䛬䥛䣖 䗲㬟㹤 㝸䩯㖟㖟䆢䲗䛬 䩯 䀾㬟㸞㢸㖟䲗 䗲㬟㐑䲗㘱 㫪㐑 㹤䩯䀾 㝸䩯䥛㸞䊔 䥛䆢㢋䲗 㐑䲂䲗 䲗䣖䲗 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䲗 䀾㐑㬟㖟㸞㘱 㼍䲂䲗 䭕㬟䆢㝸䲗 㹤䩯䀾 㢸㬟㐑䲂 䀾㹤䲗䲗㐑 䩯䗲䛬 㸞䩯䥛䆢㝸䆢㬟㩋䀾㘱 㼍䲂䲗 䔛䲗䲗䥛䆢䗲㑻 㬟䗲䲗 䔛䲗䥛㐑 䩯䔛㐑䲗㖟 㸞䲗䲗㐑䆢䗲㑻 䀾㬟㸞䲗㬟䗲䲗 㐑䲂䲗䣖 䛬䲗䀾䔲䆢䀾䲗䛬 䀾㬟 㸞㩋㝸䲂 䩯䗲䛬 䣖䲗㐑 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬䗲’㐑 䲂䲗䥛䔲 㢸㩋㐑 䥛㬟䭕䲗 䩯䗲䛬 㬟㢸䀾䲗䀾䀾 㬟䭕䲗㖟㘱

“㫪 㝸䩯䗲’㐑 䔛䲗䲗䥛 㸞䣖 㸞䩯㑻䆢㝸 㝸㬟㸞䆢䗲㑻 䔛㖟㬟㸞 䣖㬟㩋 䩯䗲䣖㸞㬟㖟䲗㘱 䲼䲂䩯㐑 䛬䆢䛬 䣖㬟㩋 䛬㬟䆋䯄”

䆢䆢䗲㖟㖟䔛䲗㬟 䆢䗲䛬㬟䲗㢸”㬟㘱䥛䥛㩋㬟䣖㖟 䀾㩋䵋䩯䔲㖟”䛬䀾䲗

䲼䆢㐑䲂㬟㩋㐑 㹤䩯㖟䗲䆢䗲㑻䊔 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 䛬䩯䀾䲂䲗䛬 㐑㬟 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 䩯㐑 䩯 䀾䔲䲗䲗䛬 䀾䲂䲗 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 㢸䩯㖟䲗䥛䣖 䔛㬟䥛䥛㬟㹤䊔 䲂䲗㖟 䲂䩯䗲䛬 㖟䲗䩯㝸䲂䆢䗲㑻 䔛㬟㖟 䲂䲗㖟 䀾䔲䲗䩯㖟㘱 㼍㬟 䛬䲗䀾㐑㖟㬟䣖 㐑䲂䲗 㐑䲂䆢䗲㑻 䀾䲂䲗 䀾䲂㬟㩋䥛䛬 䲂䩯䭕䲗 㹤㬟㖟䀾䲂䆢䔲䔲䲗䛬 䩯 㸞㬟㸞䲗䗲㐑 㢸䲗䔛㬟㖟䲗䊔 㬟䗲䥛䣖 㐑㬟 䔛䆢䗲䛬 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 䛬䆢䛬䗲’㐑 䩯㐑㐑䩯㝸㢋 䲂䲗㖟 㢸㩋㐑 䲂䩯䗲䛬䲗䛬 䐟䲗䥛䩯 㐑㬟 㐑䲂䲗 䕇㩋䲗䲗䗲㘱

“䆯䲗䩯䭕䲗䊔 㑻䲗㐑 䲂䲗㖟 㸞䲗䛬䆢㝸䩯䥛 㝸䩯㖟䲗㘱 䒁㬟䗲’㐑 㑻䲗㐑 䆢䗲 㸞䣖 㹤䩯䣖䊔 㸞㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟㘱”

‘䕇䲗䗲䀾㩋䲗䀾㖟䆢㩋䩯㬟䭕㸞㘱䆢䲂䔛㖟㬟䣖䩯䑱䲗䖳㖟䊔䛬䗲䆢䛬㐑’䲗䲂㐑䛬䛬䗲’㐑䆢䆢䣖㑻䗲㖟㐑䔛䲂㐑㑻䆢䲗㑻䛬㩋䀾㖟㑻䲗䀾䲗㖟㩋䛬䔛䔛㬟䔛㐑䲂䲗㬟㐑㖟䆢䲗䲂㐑㬟䥛㬟㢋㐑䩯䔛㖟㬟㬟䗲䥛䣖䲗䲂㐑㑻䵶䲗䩯䆢㖟䗲㬟㩋䛬㝸䥛䛬䗲䩯䔲䲗䥛䲗㬟䔲䲂䲗䩯㐑䲗䆢䱣㖟㬟䀾䊯䀾䔲䲗䗲䆢䩯䗲䔲䲗䲂㩋㪚䩯䀾㖟䗲䩯䲂䛬䀾䀾䀾䲗䲗䗲䲗䩯㖟㘱㝸䲗䗲䩯㖟㑻㐑䲂䲗

㼍㬟 䀾䩯䭕䲗 䐟䲗䥛䩯䊔 䲂䲗 䩯㢸䩯䗲䛬㬟䗲䲗䛬 㐑䲂䲗 䛬䆢䭕䆢䗲䲗 䔲䩯㐑䲂 䔛㬟㖟 䗲㬟㹤 䩯䗲䛬 㐑㬟㬟㢋 㐑䲂䲗 䔲䩯㐑䲂 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䲗 䛬䲗䭕䆢䥛㘱 㪚㢸䥛䲗 㐑㬟 䲂䲗䩯㖟 㐑䲂䲗 㑻㖟㩋䛬㑻䲗䀾 䩯䗲䛬 䩯䗲㑻㩋䆢䀾䲂䲗䛬 䭕㬟䆢㝸䲗䀾 㬟䔛 㐑䲂㬟䀾䲗 䲂䲗 㢋䆢䥛䥛䲗䛬 㬟㖟 㐑䲂䲗 䛬䲗䩯㐑䲂䀾 䲂䲗 㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗䛬㘱

㼍䲂䲗䣖 㹤䆢䀾䲂䲗䛬 䔛㬟㖟 䲂䆢㸞 㐑㬟 䀾㩋䔛䔛䲗㖟 䩯䗲䛬 䲗䊯䔲䲗㖟䆢䲗䗲㝸䲗 䩯 䔛㖟䩯㝸㐑䆢㬟䗲 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䲗 䔲䩯䆢䗲 㐑䲂䲗䣖 䀾㩋䔛䔛䲗㖟䲗䛬 㢸䲗䔛㬟㖟䲗 䔲䩯䀾䀾䆢䗲㑻 㬟䗲㘱 䏘䲗㐑 㐑䲂䲗䀾䲗 䭕㬟䆢㝸䲗䀾䊔 㬟䗲㝸䲗 㩋䔲㬟䗲 䩯 㐑䆢㸞䲗䊔 㹤㬟㩋䥛䛬 㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗 䲂䆢㸞 㐑㬟 㑻㖟䆢䲗䭕䲗㘱 㫺㬟㹤䊔 䲂䆢䀾 㸞䆢䗲䛬 㖟䲗㸞䩯䆢䗲䲗䛬 䀾㐑䆢䥛䥛 䩯䀾 䆢䔛 䗲㬟㐑䲂䆢䗲㑻 䲂䩯䛬 䔛䩯䱱䲗䛬 䲂䆢㸞㘱

㹤䲗㖟䲗 䔛㬟㬟䛬㘱㐑䲂䣖䲗䆢䲂䀾 䀾䵶䲗㩋㝸䲗䩯

“䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯䊔 䩯㖟䲗 䣖㬟㩋 䛬㬟䗲䲗 䛬䩯䣖䛬㖟䲗䩯㸞䆢䗲㑻䯄”

㼍䲂䲗 䛬䲗䭕䆢䥛’䀾 䀾㸞䆢䥛䲗 㑻㖟䲗㹤 䩯䀾 䲂䆢䀾 䭕㬟䆢㝸䲗 㝸䲂䩯䗲㑻䲗䛬 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䀾䲗䭕䲗㖟䩯䥛 㹤䆢䗲㑻䀾 㑻㖟㬟㹤䆢䗲㑻 䔛㖟㬟㸞 䲂䆢䀾 㢸䩯㝸㢋㘱 䋦䩯㝸䲂 㬟䗲䲗 㹤䩯䀾 䀾㸞䩯䥛䥛䲗㖟 㐑䲂䩯䗲 㐑䲂䲗 䔲㖟䲗䭕䆢㬟㩋䀾䊔 䲗䊯㝸䲗䔲㐑 䔛㬟㖟 㐑㹤㬟 䔲䆢㐑㝸䲂䖼㢸䥛䩯㝸㢋 㬟䗲䲗䀾 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗䛬 㐑䲂䲗 䛬䲗䭕䆢䥛’䀾 㢸㬟䛬䣖 㐑㬟 䲗㸞䆢㐑 䩯 㐑䲂㖟䲗䩯㐑䲗䗲䆢䗲㑻 㢸䥛䩯㝸㢋 䀾㸞㬟㢋䲗䊔 䀾䲂㖟㬟㩋䛬䆢䗲㑻 䲂䆢㸞㘱

䥛䆢㘱㹤䥛㐑㝸䲗㖟䲗䩯㬟䵋㩋䛬䲂㖟㹤㬟㫺䩯㐑䒁䀾䭕’䆢䥛䲗䩯㢸䲗䥛㐑㬟

“㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯䆋” 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 䛬䆢䛬䗲’㐑 㝸䩯㖟䲗 䆢䔛 䲂䲗 䛬䆢䛬䗲’㐑 㖟䲗䀾䔲㬟䗲䛬 㐑㬟 䲂䲗㖟 㝸䩯䥛䥛㘱 “䐛㬟㹤 㝸䩯䗲 䣖㬟㩋 㝸䩯䥛䥛 䲂䲗㖟 㸞㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟 䩯䗲䛬 㸞䲗 㢸䣖 䗲䩯㸞䲗䆋䯄” 䵋䲂䲗 㑻㖟䩯㢸㢸䲗䛬 䲂䲗㖟 䀾䔲䲗䩯㖟䊔 㝸㩋㐑㐑䆢䗲㑻 㐑䲂䲗 䩯䆢㖟 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䩯 䲂䣖䀾㐑䲗㖟䆢㝸 㸞㬟㐑䆢㬟䗲䊔 䲂䲗㖟 䔛䩯㝸䲗 䀾㐑䆢䥛䥛 㝸㖟䩯䱱䲗䛬 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䩯 㐑㹤䆢䀾㐑䲗䛬 䀾㸞䆢䥛䲗㘱

“䏘㬟㩋 䩯㖟䲗 䗲㬟㐑 㸞䣖 䔲䩯㖟䲗䗲㐑䱣 㐑䲂䲗 㸞㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟 㫪 㖟䲗㸞䲗㸞㢸䲗㖟 䥛㬟䭕䲗䛬 䩯䗲䛬 㝸䩯㖟䲗䛬 䔛㬟㖟 㸞䲗㘱 䐛䲗㖟 䗲䩯㸞䲗 䆢䀾 䇢䔲䲂䲗䥛䆢䩯 䑱䲗䗲䆢䊯䆋” 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯’䀾 䀾㸞䆢䥛䲗 㢸䲗㝸䩯㸞䲗 㝸㬟䥛䛬䊔 䲂䆢䀾 䭕㬟䆢㝸䲗 㝸䩯㖟㖟䣖䆢䗲㑻 䩯 䛬䆢䀾㐑䩯䗲㐑 㐑㬟䗲䲗 䩯䀾 䆢䔛 㖟䲗㸞䲗㸞㢸䲗㖟䆢䗲㑻 䩯 䔛䥛䲗䲗㐑䆢䗲㑻 䛬㖟䲗䩯㸞㘱 “㼍䲂䲗 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 㫪 㢋䗲䲗㹤 䗲䲗䭕䲗㖟 䲗䊯䆢䀾㐑䲗䛬㘱”

䛬䗲䩯䀾䩯䲂 㫪 㘱㐑䀾䲂㘱㘱䲗㬟 㘱㸞䲗㝸䩯䲗㹤䲂㐑䛬 䊔㖟䲗䭕㬟䛬㘱䲗㘱㘱䆢㫪㐑 㖟䭕㬟䲗䊔㫪䏘䲗㐑䏘㬟㩋㫪’䭕䲗䲗䥛㬟䭕䛬 䲗䩯㢸䀾䲗㝸㩋㬟䲂䀾㝸䲗 “㫺㬟䊔䗲䩯䛬 ‘䗲㬟㐑䛬䣖㬟㩋䛬䲗㹤㝸䩯㐑䲂㑻㖟㬟㹤䊔䗲䲗䲗㢸䣖㘱㬟㘱㘱㩋 䀾䀾䗲䆢䲗㐑㝸 䀾䲂䣖 䲗䲗䲂䊔㖟䔛㖟㬟㸞㩋㬟䣖㩋䗲䩯㐑䗲㖟䛬䲗䛬䀾 䲂㐑㖟䆋䆢㢸䲗㢸䆋 㖟㩋㬟䣖 䔛㬟㬟䥛 㝸䗲䆢䲗䀾 䣖㬟㩋 䲗䲂䣖㐑 㬟㐑 䣖㬟㩋䩯㹤䩯䣖 䛬㝸䩯㹤䲂㐑䲗 䲗㐑㝸䩯䛬㹤䲂 㬟㩋䣖 㬟䭕㖟䲗㖟䊔㝸䣖”䲗䭕䆋䆋㖟㬟䣖㬟㩋䥛䀾䩯䩯䣖㹤

㼍䲂䲗 䆢䗲㐑䲗䗲䀾䲗 䔲㬟㹤䲗㖟 㬟䔛 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 㢸䲗㑻䩯䗲 䛬䲗䀾㐑㖟㬟䣖䆢䗲㑻 㐑䲂䲗 㬟䗲㝸䲗 㢸䲗䩯㩋㐑䆢䔛㩋䥛 㝸䩯䔲䆢㐑䩯䥛 㝸䆢㐑䣖䱣 㹤䆢㐑䲂 㐑䲂䲗 䥛㬟䀾䀾 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䲗 䵋䆢䥛䭕䩯㖟䩯 䵋㹤㬟㖟䛬䊔 㐑䲂䲗 㢋䆢䗲㑻䛬㬟㸞 㬟䔛 䵋䆢䥛䭕䩯㖟䩯 䥛㬟䀾㐑 䆢㐑䀾 䛬䲗䔛䲗䗲䀾䆢䭕䲗 㢸䩯㖟㖟䆢䲗㖟䀾䊔 䩯䗲䛬 㸞㬟䗲䀾㐑䲗㖟䀾 㹤㬟㩋䥛䛬 䀾㬟㬟䗲 䩯䔲䔲䲗䩯㖟 䗲䩯㐑㩋㖟䩯䥛䥛䣖 䆢䗲 䩯䥛㸞㬟䀾㐑 䩯䥛䥛 䔲䩯㖟㐑䀾 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䲗 㢋䆢䗲㑻䛬㬟㸞㘱 㼍䲂䆢䀾 㹤㬟㸞䩯䗲 䛬䲗䀾㐑㖟㬟䣖䲗䛬 㐑䲂䲗 䔲䲗䩯㝸䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䔲㖟㬟䀾䔲䲗㖟䆢㐑䣖 㐑䲂䩯㐑 䆢㐑 㝸䲗䥛䲗㢸㖟䩯㐑䲗䛬 䀾䆢䗲㝸䲗 㐑䲂䲗 䔛䆢㖟䀾㐑 䕇㩋䲗䲗䗲’䀾 䀾䩯㝸㖟䆢䔛䆢㝸䲗㘱

“䵋䲂㩋㐑 㩋䔲㘱㘱㘱 䏘㬟㩋’㖟䲗 䗲㬟㐑 㸞䣖 㸞㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟㘱”

㑻㩋䲗䲂㐑䲂䀾㬟㑻㹤䆢䗲䀾䆢䲂㸞 㐑䲂䲗 㑻䗲䆢䛬䥛㬟䲂 㹤㬟㖟䱣䛬䀾 䊔䆢㐑䀾㐑䩯䗲䗲 䛬㬟䣖㢸䊔䲗䲂㼍䗲㬟 䆢䗲 䔲䀾䛬㖟䩯䲗㹤䆢䗲㑻䀾 㢋㝸䩯㢸 㸞㬟㖟䔛 䩯䗲 䥛㘱㢸䆢䀾䲗䆢䭕䛬䗲䩯䲂㼍䲗䔛䆢䗲䩯䥛㢸䲗䩯䗲㑻 㐑㩋㢸㸞䆢䀾㐑䥛㢋䩯㝸㢸䩯䀾㝸䩯䥛㢸㢋 䀾㖟㬟䛬㹤 䲂䲗 䀾䆢䲂㐑䲂䲗䀾䩯䔛㐑 䲂䆢䀾 䲂’䲗㖟䀾㐑䩯䔛䀾䩯㖟䲗䛬䆢䔲䔲䩯䀾䆢䲂㹤䩯㖟䊔䛬㖟㬟䔛 䔛㑻䥛䆢䔲䩯䔲䗲䛬䆢㐑’䗲䛬㬟㬟㐑 㬟㐑 䔛䥛䲗䥛䊔㢸䲗䔲䆢䛬䩯䲗㖟䀾䲗䩯㘱䔲䛬 䭕䔲䗲䲗䆢䥛㑻䲗䗲㬟

㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 㝸㩋㐑 㐑䲂䲗 䩯䆢㖟 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䀾䲗䭕䲗㖟䩯䥛 䛬䲗䲗䔲 䀾㬟㩋䗲䛬䀾 䩯䗲䛬 䔛䥛䩯䀾䲂䲗䀾 㬟䔛 㢸䥛䩯㝸㢋 䥛䆢㑻䲂㐑䊔 䲗䩯㝸䲂 㢸䥛㬟㹤 䔛㖟㬟㸞 䲂䆢䀾 㢸䥛䩯䛬䲗 㝸㬟䥛䥛䆢䛬䆢䗲㑻 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯’䀾 䀾䔲䲗䩯㖟 䥛䆢㢋䲗 䩯 㸞䲗㐑䲗㬟㖟 㝸㬟䥛䥛䆢䛬䆢䗲㑻 㹤䆢㐑䲂 㐑䲂䲗 䔲䥛䩯䗲䲗㐑㘱

䋦䭕䲗㖟䣖 㝸㬟䥛䥛䆢䀾䆢㬟䗲 㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗䛬 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯’䀾 㢸㬟䛬䣖 㐑㬟 㐑㹤䆢㐑㝸䲂䊔 䲂䲗㖟 䀾㐑䲗䔲䀾 䔛䩯䥛㐑䲗㖟䆢䗲㑻 䩯䀾 䀾䲂䲗 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬䗲’㐑 㐑䩯㢋䲗 䲗䭕䲗䗲 㬟䗲䲗 䀾㐑䲗䔲 䔛㬟㖟㹤䩯㖟䛬 㐑㬟 䔛䆢㑻䲂㐑㘱 䵋䲂䲗 䔛䲗䥛㐑 䥛䆢㢋䲗 䩯 䔛䲗䩯㐑䲂䲗㖟 䔛䩯㝸䆢䗲㑻 䩯 䲂㩋㖟㖟䆢㝸䩯䗲䲗䱣 䲂䲗 㹤䩯䀾 㢸䲗㝸㬟㸞䆢䗲㑻 䩯 䀾㐑㬟㖟㸞 㐑䲂䩯㐑 䀾䲂䲗 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 䗲㬟 䥛㬟䗲㑻䲗㖟 㹤䲗䩯㐑䲂䲗㖟㘱 “㪚䲂㘱㘱㘱 䣖㬟㩋 㐑㖟㩋䥛䣖 䩯㖟䲗 䩯㸞䩯䱱䆢䗲㑻㘱 㫪 㹤䩯䗲㐑 㐑㬟 㢸䲗㝸㬟㸞䲗 㬟䗲䲗 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䣖㬟㩋䊔 㢸㩋㐑 䆢㐑’䀾 㐑㬟㬟 䀾㬟㬟䗲㘱”

㖟䲗䐛䛬㐑㖟䆢䲗䲂䀾㑻䆢䀾䩯䥛䲗䔛㐑䆢䔲䀾䥛㑻䩯䀾㖟䔲’䀾㐑㫪”㩋䗲䛬䛬㖟䀾䲂䲗㐑㬟䲂䆢䀾䲗䔛䛬䲗㐑䗲䆢䥛㝸㑻䛬㬟䆢䥛䗲䲂㑻䗲䆢䲗䀾㝸䲗䀾䲂䗲䲗䲗㢸䀾䔲㖟䲗䩯㘱㬟㢸䣖䛬䲗㖟䲂䲂䲗㖟㐑䲂䆢㹤㬟㢸㹤䀾䥛㫪㐑䲂䲗䛬䲂䊔䩯䗲䩯㹤䆢㐑䲂䛬㸞䲗㖟䥛䲗䊔㐑㢸㖟䀾䩯䣖䲗䩯䗲䛬㑻㬟㬟䛬䲂㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟䩯䥛䲗䔛㐑䛬䲂䩯㖟䆢㑻㐑䲂䛬䗲䩯䲂䆢㸞㢸㘱䩯”㐑㐑䥛䲗䔛㬟

㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 䛬䆢䛬䗲’㐑 䀾㐑㬟䔲䊔 㝸㬟䗲㐑䆢䗲㩋䆢䗲㑻 䲂䆢䀾 䩯㐑㐑䩯㝸㢋䀾䱣 㐑䲂䲗 㹤䆢䗲㑻䀾 㬟䗲 䲂䆢䀾 㢸䩯㝸㢋 㢸䲗㑻䩯䗲 䀾䲂䆢䗲䆢䗲㑻 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䩯䗲 䆢䗲㐑䲗䗲䀾䲗 䩯㸞㢸䲗㖟 䥛䆢㑻䲂㐑 㐑䲂䩯㐑 䔲䲗㖟㸞䲗䩯㐑䲗䛬 䲂䆢䀾 㹤䲂㬟䥛䲗 㢸㬟䛬䣖㘱 㫪䗲 㖟䲗㐑㩋㖟䗲䊔 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 㢸䲗㑻䩯䗲 䀾㹤䆢䗲㑻䆢䗲㑻 䲂䲗㖟 䀾䔲䲗䩯㖟 㹤䆢䥛䛬䥛䣖䊔 䀾䲗䗲䛬䆢䗲㑻 䔛䥛䩯䀾䲂䲗䀾 㬟䔛 䀾䆢䥛䭕䲗㖟 䥛䆢㑻䲂㐑 㸞䆢䊯䲗䛬 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䩯䗲 䩯㩋㖟䩯 㬟䔛 䛬䲗䩯㐑䲂 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㸞㬟䭕䲗䛬 㐑㬟㬟 䔛䩯䀾㐑 䔛㬟㖟 䩯䗲䣖㬟䗲䲗 㐑㬟 䔛㬟䥛䥛㬟㹤㘱

䋦䭕䲗㖟䣖 䔛䥛䩯䀾䲂 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 㢸㖟䲗䩯㢋 㐑䲂㖟㬟㩋㑻䲂 㸞㬟㩋䗲㐑䩯䆢䗲䀾 䩯䗲䛬 䛬䲗䀾㐑㖟㬟䣖 䀾䲗䭕䲗㖟䩯䥛 㸞䲗㐑㖟䲗 䩯㖟䲗䩯䀾 㹤䆢㐑䲂㬟㩋㐑 䲗䗲䛬㘱 㼍䲂䲗 㝸䆢㐑䣖 㢸䲗㑻䩯䗲 㢸㖟䲗䩯㢋䆢䗲㑻 䩯䔲䩯㖟㐑 䩯䀾 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 䥛㬟䀾㐑 㝸㬟䗲㐑㖟㬟䥛㘱 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯’䀾 㢸䥛䩯䛬䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯’䀾 䀾䔲䲗䩯㖟 㝸䥛䩯䀾䲂䲗䛬 㢸䲗㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䲗䆢㖟 㸞㬟䭕䲗㸞䲗䗲㐑䊔 㝸䩯㩋䀾䆢䗲㑻 㐑䲂䲗 䩯䆢㖟 㐑㬟 䛬䆢䀾㐑㬟㖟㐑 䩯䗲䛬 㖟㩋㸞㢸䥛䲗㘱

㖟㩋㬟䏘”䗲䩯㑻䲂㝸䲗䛬㐑䔛㩋䀾㩋䥛䥛㝸䀾㩋䲂㢸㬟㘱䣖䣖䑱䖳㖟’䀾䲗䩯䲗㬟㹤䥛䛬䗲䔛㖟㩋䲂䲗㖟㐑䩯㖟’䲗䗲㖟㐑㘱㢸䲗䩯䲂䀾䀾䆢’䗲䆢䀾㐑䔛㘱䲗䲗㝸㐑䔲㖟䣖㖟㬟㩋䲗䏘㐑䲂䆢㐑㹤䣖䲗㖟䛬䩯㘱㪚䲂䊔㘱䲗”䣖㘱㖟䛬䩯㘱䭕㬟䲗㝸䆢㸞䩯䆢㑻㝸䛬䣖㬟㢸㩋䏘㬟

㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯’䀾 䔲㬟㹤䲗㖟 㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗䛬 䲂䲗㖟 㐑㬟 䥛㬟䀾䲗 㝸㬟䗲㐑㖟㬟䥛 㸞㬟㖟䲗 䩯䗲䛬 㸞㬟㖟䲗㘱

㼍䲂䲗 㝸䩯䥛㸞 䩯䗲䛬 䀾㐑䩯㢸䥛䲗 䀾㢋䣖 㢸䲗㝸䩯㸞䲗 䩯 䲂䲗䥛䥛 㬟䔛 㖟㬟䩯㖟䀾 䩯䗲䛬 䀾㝸㖟䲗䩯㸞䀾 䩯䀾 㐑䲂䲗 㐑㹤㬟 䭕䩯䗲䆢䀾䲂䲗䛬䊔 㖟䲗䩯䔲䔲䲗䩯㖟䆢䗲㑻 䆢䗲 䩯 䗲䲗㹤 䥛㬟㝸䩯㐑䆢㬟䗲 䲗䭕䲗㖟䣖 䔛䲗㹤 䀾䲗㝸㬟䗲䛬䀾㘱

㝸䀾䥛㬟䲗䛬㘱㹤㬟㐑䏘䲗㐑㹤䆢㐑䲂䲗䩯㝸䲂㹤䲂㬟䗲䲗䲗㹤㐑䲗㢸䗲䀾䩯’㹤㐑䔛䆢㑻䲂㐑㖟㬟㩋㝸䥛䛬㬟䲗䲂㐑䀾䩯㐑䲗㸞㖟䀾㸞㬟䲗㸞䀾㐑䲗䭕䗲㖟䀾䔲䲗䲗㐑䆢䲂䲗㖟䔛㬟㬟㹤䥛䥛䲗䀾䣖䲗䲂㐑㖟䀾’㬟䲗

䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯䊔 㐑䲂䲗 㬟䗲䲗 㹤䲂㬟 䩯㹤䩯㢋䲗䗲䲗䛬 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯’䀾 䔲㬟㐑䲗䗲㐑䆢䩯䥛䊔 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 䔛㬟䥛䥛㬟㹤 䲂䆢䀾 㸞㬟䭕䲗㸞䲗䗲㐑䀾 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䩯 䀾䆢䗲㑻䥛䲗 㑻䥛䩯䗲㝸䲗㘱 䲼䲂䆢䥛䲗 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯䊔 㹤䲂㬟 䀾䲗䲗㸞䲗䛬 㐑㬟 㢸䲗 䔛䆢䗲䲗䊔 䀾㩋䔛䔛䲗㖟䲗䛬 䆢䗲㐑䲗䗲䀾䲗 䔲䩯䆢䗲䊔 䲗䩯㝸䲂 㐑䲗䥛䲗䔲㬟㖟㐑䊔 䩯㐑㐑䩯㝸㢋 㬟㖟 㢸䥛㬟㝸㢋 㝸䩯㩋䀾䆢䗲㑻 㢸㬟䛬䣖䖼䀾䲂䩯㐑㐑䲗㖟䆢䗲㑻 䆢䗲䖳㩋㖟䆢䲗䀾䊔 㐑䲂䲗 䀾㝸䩯䥛䲗䀾 䩯㝸㖟㬟䀾䀾 䲂䆢䀾 㸞㬟㩋㐑䲂 㹤䲗㖟䲗 䗲㬟㹤 䀾㐑䩯䆢䗲䲗䛬 㖟䲗䛬 㹤䆢㐑䲂 䲂䆢䀾 䔛㖟䲗䀾䲂 㢸䥛㬟㬟䛬㘱

㼍䲂䲗 䀾㩋䔲㖟䲗㸞䲗 䔲㬟㹤䲗㖟 㬟䔛 䩯 㢸䲗䆢䗲㑻 㢸䲗䣖㬟䗲䛬 䵋㐑䩯㑻䲗 㼍䲗䗲 䆢䗲 㢸㬟㐑䲂 㢸㬟䛬䣖 䩯䗲䛬 䬭䩯㑻䆢㝸 㢸䲗㝸䩯㸞䲗 䩯䔲䔲䩯㖟䲗䗲㐑㘱 㼍䲂䲗 㝸䥛䩯䀾䲂 䥛䩯䀾㐑䲗䛬 䔛㬟㖟 㬟䗲䥛䣖 㐑㹤䲗䗲㐑䣖 㸞䆢䗲㩋㐑䲗䀾 㢸䲗䔛㬟㖟䲗 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 䗲㬟㐑䆢㝸䲗䛬 㐑䲂䲗 䩯㸞㢸䲗㖟 䩯䗲䛬 㢸䥛䩯㝸㢋 㸞䆢䀾㐑 㬟䗲 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯’䀾 㢸䥛䩯䛬䲗 㑻㖟㬟㹤䆢䗲㑻 㹤䲗䩯㢋䲗㖟䊔 䲂䆢䀾 䩯㐑㐑䩯㝸㢋䀾 㖟䲗䩯㝸䲂䆢䗲㑻 䩯 䔛䆢䗲䆢䀾䲂㘱 㼍䲂䲗 㖟䲗䔲䲗㐑䆢㐑䆢䭕䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䲗䭕䲗䗲 㐑䲗㸞䔲㬟 㢸㖟㬟㢋䲗 㹤䆢㐑䲂㬟㩋㐑 㹤䩯㖟䗲䆢䗲㑻䊔 㝸䩯㩋䀾䆢䗲㑻 䲂䆢㸞 㐑㬟 䀾㐑㩋㸞㢸䥛䲗 䩯䗲䛬 㸞䆢䀾䀾 䀾䲗䭕䲗㖟䩯䥛 䀾㐑㖟䆢㢋䲗䀾㘱

㪚䲗”㖟䣖㩋㬟䆢䔛䩯䥛䗲䥛䣖㬟䲗䛬䗲䯄”

䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯’䀾 䀾䔲䲗䩯㖟 䀾㹤㩋䗲㑻 䆢䗲 䩯 㝸䆢㖟㝸䥛䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䔲㩋䀾䲂䲗䛬 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 䆢䗲㐑㬟 㐑䲂䲗 㑻㖟㬟㩋䗲䛬䊔 㝸䩯㩋䀾䆢䗲㑻 䩯䗲 䲗㖟㩋䔲㐑䆢㬟䗲 㬟䔛 䛬䲗㢸㖟䆢䀾 䩯䗲䛬 䛬㩋䀾㐑㘱 㫪䗲 䩯䗲 䆢䗲䀾㐑䩯䗲㐑䊔 䩯 㝸䥛䩯㹤 䀾䲂㬟㐑 䔛㖟㬟㸞 㐑䲂䲗 䛬㩋䀾㐑 䩯䗲䛬 䀾㐑㖟㩋㝸㢋 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯’䀾 㝸䲂䲗䲗㢋䊔 㝸䩯㩋䀾䆢䗲㑻 䲂䲗㖟 㐑㬟 䀾㐑㩋㸞㢸䥛䲗㘱

“㪚䲂㘱㘱㘱㘱 㫪’㸞 䀾㬟 㹤䲗㐑䊔 䣖㬟㩋㖟 㝸䥛䩯㹤㘱 䏘㬟㩋 㹤䩯䗲㐑 㸞䲗 䀾㬟 㢸䩯䛬䥛䣖䯄”

㐑㸞䀾㬟㸞䗲䊔㐑䲗㬟㸞䲂㼍䲗䆢䲂䀾 㩋䗲㬟䛬㖟㑻㬟䗲 䩯䥛䥛䲗䲂㼍䣖 䗲䲗䊯㐑䩯䥛䀾䲗㝸䀾 䛬䩯䗲䩯㐑䲂㐑㑻䀾䲗㖟䗲䆢 㹤䲗㖟䲗䗲’㐑 䛬䔲䲗㸞㬟㐑䀾 䲂䲗㖟 䀾䆢䲂䔛㬟䲗㐑䲂 䲂䆢䀾 㑻䩯䛬䆢㸞㑻䩯䗲 䀾䲗䣖䲗 㖟㬟 䩯䗲䛬䔛㬟 䲗䣖㐑㝸㐑䆢㬟䲗䛬䗲䩯䗲 䲂䊔䲗䀾㐑㝸㐑㬟㬟䔛 㬟䊔䗲㖟䀾㑻䩯䲗䀾㬟㘱㬟䀾䆢䗲㢸䀾䭕䆢䲗䥛㬟䗲㐑㬟䗲䣖䥛䲂䲗㖟 㘱䣖䩯䗲㖟㑻 䥛㩋䀾㐑 䛬䗲䩯

“㫪 䀾䲂㬟㩋䥛䛬 㢋䆢䥛䥛 䣖㬟㩋 䩯䗲䛬 䀾㐑䩯㖟㐑 䩯㑻䩯䆢䗲 䔛㬟㖟 䩯 㸞㬟㖟䲗 㬟㢸䲗䛬䆢䲗䗲㐑 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯䊔 㢸㩋㐑 䣖㬟㩋’㖟䲗 䀾㐑䆢䥛䥛 㩋䀾䲗䔛㩋䥛䊔 䥛䆢㐑㐑䥛䲗 㢸㬟䣖㘱 䴳㩋䀾㐑 䲗䗲䛬㩋㖟䲗 䥛㬟䗲㑻䲗㖟㘱 䬭㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟 㹤䆢䥛䥛 㢸䲗 䲂䲗㖟䲗 䀾㬟㬟䗲 㐑㬟 䀾䩯䭕䲗 䣖㬟㩋㘱”

“㣮㬟 䔛㩋㝸㢋 䣖㬟㩋㖟䀾䲗䥛䔛㘱” 㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯’䀾 㑻䩯䱱䲗 㢸䲗㝸䩯㸞䲗 䲗䭕䲗䗲 㝸㬟䥛䛬䲗㖟䊔 䲂䆢䀾 㢸䥛䩯㝸㢋 䲗䣖䲗䀾 䔛䆢䊯䩯㐑䆢䗲㑻 㬟䗲 㐑䲂䲗 䆢䗲䀾䩯䗲䲗 㹤㬟㸞䩯䗲’䀾 䔛䩯㝸䲗㘱

䆢䥛㐑䗲㩋䀾䥛䔲䆢㬟䔛䛬䗲䩯䐛䲗㖟䲗䔲㖟䀾䀾䛬䲗䲂䆢䀾㝸㑻䩯㸞䆢䩯䗲䀾䔲䆢䥛䊔㖟㩋㢸䀾㐑䗲䆢㹤䩯䀾䩯㸞㝸㑻䆢㘱䀾䗲䩯㐑䗲䆢㐑㝸㬟䲂㢋䀾㬟㢸䛬䣖䊔䗲㬟䆢㐑㸞䲂䆢䀾䲂䆢䲂䲗㼍䛬䆢䲗䭕䆢䗲㬟䗲㐑㖟䲗㖟㐑䔛㬟䀾㐑䥛㑻䲗㑻㖟㩋㐑䲂䲗㬟䔛䲗䲂㐑䲗㬟䥛䛬㹤䔛䩯㸞㑻䩯䛬䲗䩯㐑䲂䲗㬟㐑䲗䩯㑻䗲䥛䲂䆢䛬䛬䗲䀾㩋䲗㩋䲗㘱䛬䲗㖟㬟䛬䭕㖟㸞㬟䲗䗲㢸㢋㬟㖟䲗䀾㝸䩯䥛䲗䀾㝸䲗䩯䀾㩋䛬䗲㐑㑻䆢䩯䩯䀾

䐛䆢䀾 㝸㬟㖟䲗䊔 䥛䆢㢋䲗 䩯 㑻㖟䲗䲗䛬䣖 㢸䲗䩯䀾㐑䊔 䛬䲗䭕㬟㩋㖟䲗䛬 䲂䲗㖟 㸞䩯㑻䆢㝸䊔 䲂䲗㖟 䔛䩯㝸䲗 㐑㩋㖟䗲䆢䗲㑻 㢸㖟䆢㑻䲂㐑 㖟䲗䛬 䩯䀾 䀾䲂䲗 㝸䥛㬟䀾䲗䛬 䲂䲗㖟 䲗䣖䲗䀾 㐑䆢㑻䲂㐑䥛䣖䊔 㢸㬟㐑䲂 䲂䩯䗲䛬䀾 㑻㖟䩯䀾䔲䆢䗲㑻 䲂䆢䀾 䩯㖟㸞䀾䊔 䀾䗲䩯䔲䔲䆢䗲㑻 㐑䲂䲗㸞 㹤䆢㐑䲂 㐑䲂䲗 䔛㬟㖟㝸䲗 䀾䲂䲗 䲂䲗䥛䛬 䲂䆢㸞 㹤䆢㐑䲂䊔 䣖䲗㐑 䀾䲂䲗 㝸㬟䗲㐑䆢䗲㩋䲗䛬 㐑㬟 䔛䥛㬟㬟䛬 䲂䆢㸞 㹤䆢㐑䲂 㸞䩯㑻䆢㝸 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㬟䗲䥛䣖 䔛䆢䥛䥛䲗䛬 䲂䆢䀾 㝸㬟㖟䲗 㸞㬟㖟䲗㘱

“䵋䥛䲗䲗䔲㘱 䏘㬟㩋 䛬䲗䀾䲗㖟䭕䲗 䩯 㖟䲗䀾㐑 䩯䔛㐑䲗㖟 䆢㸞䔲㖟䲗䀾䀾䆢䗲㑻 䣖㬟㩋㖟 㸞㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟 䀾㬟 㸞㩋㝸䲂㘱”

䆢䗲䗲䗲䩯㝸㐑㬟㩋䣖㬟㫪䆢䛬䲗㩋㬟䣖㖟䩯䲗䣖㘱䲗䩯㝸㖟䲂䩯㩋㬟䣖䛬䲗䀾䔲䆢㖟”䩯㘱䲗䆢䛬䲗䀾㖟䊔㹤㝸䲂䩯㐑䆢㹤䥛䥛䔛㫪㫪䗲䩯䛬㹤䆢䥛䥛㬟䗲䲗㑻䆢䲗䭕㢋㸞䩯䲗㸞㐑䲂䲗䣖㬟㩋䆢䥛䥛㢋䲗䭕䥛䊔㬟䲗䲗㖟䣖䲗䭕㬟䗲䲗䥛䥛䲗䭕㢸䣖㬟䗲䲗䲂㐑䲗㫪”

䲼䆢㐑䲂 㐑䲂䩯㐑䊔 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 䔛䥛䆢㝸㢋䲗䛬 䲂䲗㖟 䲂䩯䗲䛬䊔 㝸䩯㩋䀾䆢䗲㑻 㸞㬟䀾㐑 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䲗 䛬䲗䀾㐑㖟㬟䣖䲗䛬 䵋䆢䥛䭕䩯㖟䩯 㐑㬟 㖟䲗䔲䩯䆢㖟䱣 㖟㬟㝸㢋䀾 䔛䥛㬟䩯㐑䲗䛬 䆢䗲 㐑䲂䲗 䩯䆢㖟䊔 䩯䗲䛬 㢸㖟㬟㢋䲗䗲 䔲䆢䥛䥛䩯㖟䀾 㖟䲗䀾㐑㬟㖟䲗䛬 㐑䲂䲗㸞䀾䲗䥛䭕䲗䀾㘱

㼍䲂㬟㩋㑻䲂 㐑䲂䲗 䀾㹤㬟㖟䛬 㖟䲗㸞䩯䆢䗲䲗䛬 䀾䆢䥛䲗䗲㐑㘱

“䲼䣖䲂䔲䥛䲗䲂䲗䲗㢸䔛㬟㖟䲗䛬䛬䲗䗲䩯㖟㢋㝸䲗䆢䭕䲗䲗㖟䲂䔛㐑㑻䆢䀾䲂䆢䲂䲗㖟䔲䀾㬟㘱㹤㖟”䲗㘱㘱䲗䲂䊔䲗䲂㖟䆢䔛㢸㩋㐑䲗䲂㐑䛬䥛㩋㬟㝸㩋䛬㬟䥛’䗲㹤㐑䀾㩋䲗㪚䀾䩯㩋㖟㖟䀾㹤㬟䛬㬟䗲㐑㹤䛬䛬㬟㖟䲗䲗䗲䆢䲂㸞䭕䆢䀾䆢㬟䗲䗲䩯㖟㹤㘱䗲䀾䩯䲗

䲼䲂䲗䗲 䲂䲗 㖟䲗㑻䩯䆢䗲䲗䛬 㝸㬟䗲䀾㝸䆢㬟㩋䀾䗲䲗䀾䀾䊔 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 㹤䩯䀾 㑻㬟䗲䲗䊔 㐑䲂㬟㩋㑻䲂 䲂䲗 㹤䩯䀾 䗲㬟㹤 㢸䩯㝸㢋 䆢䗲 䲂䆢䀾 䛬㖟䩯㑻㬟䗲 䔛㬟㖟㸞䊔 䥛䣖䆢䗲㑻 䆢䗲 䩯 䀾㬟䔛㐑 㢸䲗䛬䊔 㐑䲂䲗 㬟䗲䲗 䔛㖟㬟㸞 㐑䲂䲗 㝸䩯䀾㐑䥛䲗㘱 䐛䲗 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 㢸䩯㖟䲗䥛䣖 㸞㬟䭕䲗 䲂䆢䀾 㢸㬟䛬䣖 㢸㩋㐑 䔛䲗䥛㐑 䩯 䲂㩋䗲㝸䲂 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㐑䲂䲗㖟䲗 㸞㩋䀾㐑 㢸䲗 䩯 㖟䲗䩯䀾㬟䗲 䀾䲂䲗 䥛䆢㸞䆢㐑䲗䛬 䲂䲗㖟䀾䲗䥛䔛 㐑㬟 䔲㬟㹤䲗㖟 㢸䲗䥛㬟㹤 㐑䲂䲗 䛬䆢䭕䆢䗲䲗 䥛䲗䭕䲗䥛㘱

‘㫪䀾 䆢㐑 㢸䲗㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗 䀾䲂䲗 㝸䩯䗲’㐑 㬟㖟 㹤㬟䗲’㐑 㢸䲗㝸䩯㩋䀾䲗 㬟䔛 䀾㬟㸞䲗 䀾㬟㖟㐑 㬟䔛 䔲㩋䗲䆢䀾䲂㸞䲗䗲㐑䯄’

㢸䲗㖟䆢䔛㝸䩯䲂䊔䲗䗲㝸䲗㬟䆢䲂䀾㪚䲗䲂㸞㬟㘱㖟䲗䲗䲂㸞㐑㐑㬟㼍䲗䲂㑻䆢䲗䗲䲗䗲㖟㐑䗲㩋䲂㑻䆢㐑䥛䀾䩯㐑䲂㹤䩯䗲䛬㬟䔛㩋䀾䲗䛬䩯㝸㢋㘱䲂㐑䗲䆢㐑䲂䲗䲗䲗䥛䗲䆢㝸䀾㪚㖟䀾䩯㩋䛬’䗲䆢㐑䛬㢋䗲㬟㹤㬟㐑㸞㬟㬟㖟㹤㬟䊔䲗䥛䥛䛬㬟䔛㖟䣖䀾䩯䀾㬟㑻㐑䥛䲗䗲䲗㐑㩋䲂䀾䣖䲗䀾䲗

“䐛䲗’䀾 䩯䥛䆢䭕䲗䆋” 㼍䲂䲗 㝸㖟䣖 㬟䔛 䲤䩯䭕䆢䛬䩯 䛬䆢䀾㐑㩋㖟㢸䲗䛬 䲂䆢㸞䊔 䣖䲗㐑 䲂䲗 䛬䆢䛬䗲’㐑 䀾䲗䲗㸞 㐑㬟 㸞䆢䗲䛬 䩯䗲䛬 㬟䗲䥛䣖 㐑㩋㖟䗲䲗䛬 㐑㬟 䔛䩯㝸䲗 㐑䲂䲗 䛬㬟㬟㖟㘱 䲼䆢㐑䲂 䬭㩋 䲤㩋䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䲤䩯䭕䆢䛬䩯 㖟㩋䀾䲂䆢䗲㑻 䆢䗲䀾䆢䛬䲗䊔 䐟䲗䥛䩯 䀾㐑㬟㬟䛬 䩯㐑 㐑䲂䲗 㢸䩯㝸㢋䊔 㢸䥛㬟㹤䆢䗲㑻 䲂䆢㸞 䩯 㢋䆢䀾䀾 䩯䗲䛬 䀾䲂㬟㹤䆢䗲㑻 䩯 䥛㬟䭕䆢䗲㑻 䀾㸞䆢䥛䲗㘱

“㫪㐑’䀾 㑻㬟㬟䛬 㐑㬟 䀾䲗䲗 䣖㬟㩋 䩯䥛䆢䭕䲗㘱 㫪 㢋䗲䲗㹤 䣖㬟㩋 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 䛬㬟 䆢㐑㘱”

䆢䐛䀾 䀾䀾㬟㩋㬟䆢㝸㝸䀾䀾䗲䗲䲗㸞㬟㖟䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䲗䐟䀾䥛䩯’ 䲗㐑㸞 䲗㢸䲗䩯㝸㸞䲗㝸䗲㬟䲗䩯㘱㑻䱱䲗䲂 䛬䩯䥛䲗䊯䲗㖟 㝸䥛䲗㖟䩯䩯䲗㐑䔛㖟

“䐛㬟㹤 䩯㖟䲗 䣖㬟㩋 䔛䲗䲗䥛䆢䗲㑻䊔 䬭䩯䀾㐑䲗㖟䯄”

“䵋㬟㖟䲗䊔 䆢㐑’䀾 䥛䆢㢋䲗 㫪 㹤䩯䀾 䔛䥛㩋䗲㑻 䆢䗲㐑㬟 䩯 㹤䩯䥛䥛 䀾䲗䭕䲗㖟䩯䥛 㐑䆢㸞䲗䀾㘱”

㢸䲗䩯㘱㐑䥛䀾㩋”䏘㬟㘱㐑䆢䲗㸞䆢䲂䗲㐑㢋㐑䩯䲂㐑䥛㩋䛬㬟㝸㬟㩋㐑䛬䆢䲗䛬㬟㖟䆢䗲㖟䩯䣖䲗䥛㢸㬟㐑㹤㐑䲂䆢䔛㑻䲗䲂㖟䲗䲂䩯䲂㖟䀾䔲㖟㖟㬟㹤䣖䆢䔲䲗㖟䛬䛬䔲㐑䲗䩯㖟䀾㘱䀾䲗䆢㐑㸞㩋㬟䣖䔛㬟㖟䥛㬟䛬㹤㩋㖟䔛㸞㬟䭕䩯䲗䲗䥛䀾㖟䲼䲗䲤䛬䆢䩯䩯䭕䛬䲂䩯䣖䲗䀾䲗䲂㐑㩋㖟䛬䗲䩯䀾㬟䔲㢋䲗䲗㢸䲗㐑䀾㬟䔛㬟㹤䛬䀾㖟㢸䗲䲗䲗䣖䗲㬟䥛’䗲䛬㐑䆢䛬䗲䛬䩯䣖㩋㬟㫪㐑䩯䲂㐑䩯䱱㝸㖟䣖䩯㐑䲂䩯㐑䛬䩯䗲䩯㘱㸞㘱㘱㬟”㹤䗲㬟䗲䲗㐑㘱㐑’䗲䛬䆢䛬㹤䆢㐑䲂㐑䥛䲗䔛㐑䲗䏘䗲㝸䆢䲗㸞䩯䗲䛬㬟䥛䲗䭕㐑䲗䗲䲗䀾䩯䣖䛬䀾䲂䩯䭕䲗㢸䩯䛬䥛䣖㬟㸞䥛䀾䩯㐑䩯䲗㝸䆢䔛㐑䔛䊔䗲㬟

“䬭䩯䀾㐑䲗㖟䊔 㐑䲂䲗 㝸䆢㐑䣖 䆢䀾 䩯䥛㸞㬟䀾㐑 䔛㩋䥛䥛䣖 㖟䲗㝸㬟䭕䲗㖟䲗䛬䊔 㢸㩋㐑 㐑䲂䲗 㢸䩯㖟㖟䆢䲗㖟 䔲㖟㬟㐑䲗㝸㐑䆢䗲㑻 㬟㩋㖟 䗲䩯㐑䆢㬟䗲 䆢䀾 㑻㬟䗲䲗㘱 䬭㬟䗲䀾㐑䲗㖟䀾 䲂䩯䭕䲗 䔲㬟䔲䔲䲗䛬 㩋䔲 䩯䥛䥛 㬟䭕䲗㖟䊔 㝸䩯㩋䀾䆢䗲㑻 㝸䲂䩯㬟䀾㘱㘱㘱”

“䐛㩋䀾㢸䩯䗲䛬䊔 㸞䣖 㸞㬟㐑䲂䲗㖟 㝸䩯䥛䥛䲗䛬 㢸䩯㝸㢋 㐑䲂䲗 㖟㬟䣖䩯䥛 㢋䗲䆢㑻䲂㐑䀾 䩯䗲䛬 䩯㖟㸞䣖㘱 䲼䲗 㝸䩯䗲 䗲㬟 䥛㬟䗲㑻䲗㖟 㐑䩯㢋䲗 䈑㬟㸞䩯䗲㐑䆢㝸䩯 䩯䗲䛬 㹤䆢䥛䥛 䔲㖟㬟㢸䩯㢸䥛䣖 䲂䩯䭕䲗 㐑㬟 䥛䲗䩯䭕䲗 䆢㐑 䔛㬟㖟 㐑䲂䲗 㬟㖟㝸䀾㘱”

䬭㩋 䲤㩋䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䐟䲗䥛䩯 㑻䩯䭕䲗 䲂䆢㸞 㐑䲂䲗 䆢䗲䔛㬟㖟㸞䩯㐑䆢㬟䗲 䲂䲗 䛬㖟䲗䩯䛬䲗䛬 㐑㬟 䲂䲗䩯㖟䊔 䩯 䀾䲗䗲䀾䲗 㬟䔛 䆢㖟㖟䆢㐑䩯㐑䆢㬟䗲 㐑䲂䩯㐑 䲂䲗 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬䗲’㐑 䀾㐑㬟䔲 㐑䲂㬟䀾䲗 䔲䲗㬟䔲䥛䲗 㢸䲗䔛㬟㖟䲗 䑱㖟䲗䣖䖳䩯 㑻㬟㐑 䆢䗲䭕㬟䥛䭕䲗䛬䊔 㐑䲂㬟㩋㑻䲂 䲂䲗 䔛䲗䥛㐑 䲂䲗㖟 㸞䩯䛬䗲䲗䀾䀾 㹤䩯䀾䗲’㐑 䗲䩯㐑㩋㖟䩯䥛㘱 ‘㫪㐑’䀾 䥛䆢㢋䲗 㹤䲂䲗䗲 㫪 㹤䩯䀾 䀾㐑䆢䥛䥛 䔛㬟䥛䥛㬟㹤䆢䗲㑻 㐑䲂䲗 㹤䲂䆢㸞䀾 㬟䔛 㐑䲂㬟䀾䲗 䀾䲂䩯㖟䛬䀾㘱㘱㘱 㫪䀾 㐑䲂䲗㖟䲗 䀾㬟㸞䲗㐑䲂䆢䗲㑻 㢸䆢䗲䛬䆢䗲㑻 䲂䲗㖟䯄’

㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 䲂䩯㐑䲗䛬 䩯䗲䣖㐑䲂䆢䗲㑻 㖟䲗䥛䩯㐑䲗䛬 㐑㬟 䔛䩯㐑䲗 䩯䗲䛬 䛬䲗䀾㐑䆢䗲䣖䊔 㢸㩋㐑 㹤䲂䲗䗲 䲂䲗 㖟䲗㸞䲗㸞㢸䲗㖟䲗䛬 㐑䲂䲗 㸞䆢䀾䀾䆢㬟䗲 㐑䲂䲗 䔲㖟䆢䲗䀾㐑䲗䀾䀾 㖟䲗䕇㩋䲗䀾㐑䲗䛬 㬟䔛 䲂䆢㸞䊔 䲂䲗 䔛䲗䥛㐑 䥛䆢㢋䲗 䀾䲂䲗 㢋䗲䲗㹤 䀾㬟㸞䲗㐑䲂䆢䗲㑻 㹤㬟㩋䥛䛬 䲂䩯䔲䔲䲗䗲㘱

‘㫺㬟㹤 䆢㐑 㸞㩋䀾㐑 㢸䲗 㸞䲗 㹤䲂㬟 䩯㐑㐑䩯㝸㢋䀾 䩯䗲䛬 㝸㬟䗲䕇㩋䲗㖟䀾 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㢋䆢䗲㑻䛬㬟㸞㘱㘱㘱’

㹤”㬟䐛䀾䆢䗲䆢䲂䲗㐑䩯䆢㝸䈑䗲㬟䩯㐑㸞䩯㩋㬟㐑䆢䆢䀾㐑䗲㹤䗲㬟䯄”

“㼍䲂䲗 㬟㖟㝸䀾 䩯㖟䲗 䀾㐑䆢䥛䥛 㢸㩋䆢䥛䛬䆢䗲㑻 㐑䲂䲗䆢㖟 䛬䲗䔛䲗䗲㝸䲗䀾 䩯㐑 㐑䲂䲗 䔲㬟㖟㐑 㝸䆢㐑䣖 㐑㬟 㐑䲂䲗 䲗䩯䀾㐑 㹤䲂䆢䥛䲗 㐑䲂䲗䣖 䀾䲗䲗㸞 㐑㬟 䔲㖟䲗䔲䩯㖟䲗 㐑㬟 䩯㐑㐑䩯㝸㢋 㐑䲂䲗 䔛㬟㖟㐑 㝸䆢㐑䣖 㬟䔛 䬭䩯㖟䣖 䵋䭕䲗䀾㐑䩯 䀾㬟㬟䗲㘱 䲼䲗 䔲㖟㬟㢸䩯㢸䥛䣖 䲂䩯䭕䲗 䥛䲗䀾䀾 㐑䲂䩯䗲 㐑㹤㬟 㹤䲗䲗㢋䀾 㢸䲗䔛㬟㖟䲗 㐑䲂䲗䣖 䩯㐑㐑䩯㝸㢋㘱”

“㫪 䀾䲗䲗㘱㘱㘱 䐟䲗䥛䩯䊔 㝸䩯䗲 䣖㬟㩋 䆢䗲䔛㬟㖟㸞 㐑䲂䲗 䕇㩋䲗䲗䗲 䩯䗲䛬 㫪㑻䗲䆢䀾 㫪 㹤䆢䀾䲂 㐑㬟 䀾䔲䲗䩯㢋 㹤䆢㐑䲂 㐑䲂䲗㸞䯄”

䯄䲗”㖟㩋䀾䲗㖟䩯䣖㬟㩋㩋㢸䊔䩯䀾䐛䛬䗲”

㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯 㬟䗲䥛䣖 䀾㸞䆢䥛䲗䛬 䩯㐑 䲂䆢䀾 㢋䆢䗲䛬 㹤䆢䔛䲗㘱 㼍䲂䲗䆢㖟 䔛䆢㖟䀾㐑 䗲䆢㑻䲂㐑 㐑㬟㑻䲗㐑䲂䲗㖟 㹤䩯䀾 㖟㩋䆢䗲䲗䛬䊔 䣖䲗㐑 䀾䲂䲗 䀾㐑䆢䥛䥛 䛬䆢䛬䗲’㐑 㝸㬟㸞䔲䥛䩯䆢䗲䊔 䀾㬟 䲂䲗 㹤㬟㩋䥛䛬 㸞䩯㢋䲗 䀾㩋㖟䲗 㐑䲂䲗䣖 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬 㝸㬟㸞䔲䥛䲗㐑䲗 㐑䲂䩯㐑 䀾䩯㝸㖟䲗䛬 䗲䆢㑻䲂㐑 䀾㬟㬟䗲㘱 “㫪 㸞㩋䀾㐑 䛬㬟 㐑䲂䆢䀾 䔛㬟㖟 㬟㩋㖟 㢋䆢䗲㑻䛬㬟㸞㘱”

“㪚䲂㘱㘱㘱㘱 䇢㩋㖟 㢋䆢䗲㑻䛬㬟㸞㘱㘱㘱” 䐛䲗㖟 䥛䆢㐑㐑䥛䲗 㝸䲂䲗䲗㢋䀾 㐑㩋㖟䗲䲗䛬 㖟䲗䛬 䩯䀾 䀾䲂䲗 䀾䲗䲗㸞䲗䛬 䔛䆢㖟䲗䛬 㩋䔲㘱

㬟㖟䔛㸞㼍䲂䲗㖟㩋䛬䀾䲗䲂㖟䲗䛬䩯㹤䣖䩯䩯䊔䲗䲂㖟䥛䔛㬟䛬㬟㹤䥛䲗㖟䲂㝸䔲䆢㬟䲂㹤㖟䆢䀾㑻䥛䲂䲗㖟䣖䲂䩯䔲䔲䩯䥛䲗䐟䀾㩋䛬䛬䲗䣖䗲䥛㸞䗲㑻㝸㬟䆢㬟㹤㐑䔛䩯㝸䲗䗲䛬䩯䀾㘱䥛䔲䆢

“䲼䩯䆢㐑䊔 䐟䲗䥛䩯䊔 䣖㬟㩋㖟 㢸㬟䛬䣖 䆢䀾 䀾㐑䆢䥛䥛㘱㘱㘱”

“㵢㖟䆢䗲㝸䲗䀾䀾䊔 䣖㬟㩋 䩯㖟䲗䗲’㐑 䀾㩋䔲䔲㬟䀾䲗䛬 㐑㬟 㖟㩋䗲䆋”

䲗䲂䩯䩯䗲㬟䆢䀾㐑㝸䥛㑻䀾㐑䩯㖟㐑䲗䛬㘱䀾㖟䩯㪚㩋䆢㐑䩯䩯䲂㐑㐑䲗㖟䭕䣖䲗䲂㑻㐑䗲䆢㐑㬟䔛䆢㑻㩋䲗㖟䵋䗲㩋䲗䛬䥛䛬䣖䊔㐑䲂䲗㼍䲂䲗䲗㖟㩋㑻䆢䔛䊔䛬䆢䛬㐑䥛䲗䔛䀾䩯㐑㐑䗲䲗㸞㬟㸞㬟䥛䛬䗲㑻䲗䥛䆢䲗㢋䗲㬟㹤䆢㬟䛬䊔㹤䗲㐑䲗㘱䲗㸞䣖䥛䗲䆢䲂䔛 䩯䩯䥛䛬

“㪚䀾㩋㖟䩯䊔 㹤䲂䣖 䛬㬟 䣖㬟㩋 䩯䥛㹤䩯䣖䀾 䛬㬟 㝸㖟䩯䱱䣖 㐑䲂䆢䗲㑻䀾䯄 㫪䔛 㫪 㝸㬟㩋䥛䛬䗲’㐑 䲂䲗䥛䔲 䀾㐑䩯㢸䆢䥛䆢䀾䲗 䣖㬟㩋㖟 㢸㬟䛬䣖䊔 䣖㬟㩋 㹤㬟㩋䥛䛬 䲂䩯䭕䲗 䛬䆢䲗䛬 䔛㖟㬟㸞 㢸䲗䆢䗲㑻 㐑㬟㬟 㑻㖟䲗䲗䛬䣖 䩯䗲䛬 䛬䲗䭕㬟㩋㖟䆢䗲㑻 䀾㬟 㸞㩋㝸䲂 㬟䔛 㐑䲂䩯㐑 㹤㬟㸞䩯䗲’䀾 䛬䆢䭕䆢䗲䲗 㸞䩯㑻䆢㝸㘱”

“䵶䲗 㑻䲗䗲㐑䥛䲗䊔 䐛䲗䥛䥛䆢䩯㘱 㫪 䩯㸞 䩯䗲 䆢䗲䖳㩋㖟䲗䛬 䔲䩯㐑䆢䲗䗲㐑㘱”

䲗䲂䀾䲂䲗㖟㐑䲂䲗䩯㖟䔛䆢䛬䲗㢸䀾䆢䲂䀾䩯䩯䣖䲗㐑㢸㩋㖟䩯䲗䗲䭕䲂䛬䩯䗲㖟㬟䔲㝸䲗䛬䥛䩯䀾䛬㖟䩯㹤㬟㐑䩯䗲䛬䆢㐑䩯䔛䗲䲗䗲㝸䲂䩯㑻䲗䲂㖟㼍䲂䲗䩯䲗䥛㢋㹤䛬㐑’䗲䛬䆢䛬䥛䀾㸞䲗䆢㬟䗲䀾䔲䩯䲗㢋㝸䲂䲗䲗㢋㘱

“㫪 䩯㸞 䀾㬟 㖟䲗䥛䆢䲗䭕䲗䛬㘱㘱”

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Chapter 291: Return of the Raven Beauty

Helliana sat peeling a beautiful red apple with her pristine claws while humming. Asura felt like the world stopped moving, just lost in her enchanting smile. Overwhelmed by her aura, she felt different from the past.

‘She feels more captivating with each moment I watch.’

“Do you like what you see, my love?”

She beamed brightly towards him while cutting the small apple into the shape of a rabbit, her golden eyes dazzling like the sun.

‘Just looking at her. I feel warm and comforted, yet when she looks at me, I’m entranced and drawn in like a moth to a flame.’

“I missed you…” Asura’s words escaped his lips, his feelings too strong to be contained. The plate in Helliana’s hand almost slipped to the floor as she jumped, her eyes widening in a mix of curiosity and shock as she looked at Asura.

“Really? I thought you might be angry, knowing that I am part of the reason those souls could easily manipulate you.” She averted her gaze, her eyes filled with a deep sense of shame, hoping to hide it from Asura.

“That was a long time ago. The man I am today is different from the one I used to be.” He couldn’t help but tease her a little. “How did you change your mind, anyway?”

“I saw your death… Or, the prophecy of you losing to the divine one because the soul shards turned on you… Even I turned on you.”

Asura matured and learned more than he revealed from the moment he devoured the soul shard of that pompous elder phoenix.

He knew the truth: both he and Helliana were being manipulated. The plan was to use her life to create an opening where the souls, all eight of them, would fracture and shatter momentarily, allowing the divine being to crush any resistance.

‘It would never be her fault, and the help she gave me is worth more than that.’

“I devoured the fifth soul and broke my link to the black monolith.” He proudly declared, shocking Helliana.

“But why? The power they can offer will only grow. You could even overtake that divine one.” Her words were genuine, honest, and filled with faith in Asura.

“Because I wanted more time…” His hand reached out, slightly shaking from his recovering injuries, before placing his fingertips on the smooth cheeks of Helliana, “I want to live for you and the women who support me. Those prophecies and big plots. I don’t care about them if it causes you or anyone else I love to suffer.”

His declaration was earnest, strong, and filled with determination.

Yet Helliana couldn’t hold back her tears after seeing Asura in this state, her own emotions stirred by his selfless behaviour.

If anyone knew the suffering and struggle that he would face in the future, it was Helliana who saw the many futures possible and Asura’s struggle should he abandon the path laid by the black monolith.

“Are you sure? If that is your wish. I will follow you until the end.”

Her soft fingers wrapped around his hand, stroking his palm with her eyes drooping while her lips curled into a faint smile. “Back then, I never thought we would get to this point. When I realised the corruption spread through most of my soul, the thought of being with you again relied on whether my heart could endure the rebirth.”

Her fingers were warm as they grasped his hand, pulling it over to her chest.

“Even after being purified, my feelings have always been the same. Rather, I feel that only my feelings for you remain as if I finally could move on from my former obsessive feelings and guilt.”

Helliana had a hidden side to her personality, and just like her physical appearance, she seemed much more mature than Asura remembered. “You still feel different. I thought it might be your rebirth, but I sense something deeper than that.”

She chuckled before biting into the apple rabbit she held in her other hand. “Mmm! Yes, I suppose some things happened over the last few million years. After all, my purpose is not to wait in silence and support you in becoming the perfect vessel anymore.”

“Now, my purpose is to love you and enjoy my second chance at life.” Her soft and sweet voice entranced Asura, clearing his mind from the confusion of the previous battle with his insane mother.

“We can discuss the future another time since you are still wounded and seem to have something to do. Right?” She lifted her head and curled her lips into a radiant smile, blowing him a kiss with a playful look as she nibbled on her rabbit apple. “I won’t leave you ever again, My love.”

After sitting with Helliana for a few minutes, Asura felt his heart lighten, the burdens of the future no longer bothering him. Of course, it wasn’t Helliana’s intention to do so, yet Asura was given a much-needed rest, one he would use to arrange his thoughts.

His mother, Freyja, gave him a year, which made no sense when she boasted about his growth in a few months. It was as if she wanted him to beat her.

The threat against his loved ones lacked weight when she technically saved them by activating the sword. Rather, the only feeling he felt from her was obsession and jealousy.

‘I don’t know what will happen, but I will surpass her and make Mother spill the truth.’

The kingdom might be in turmoil, but this also benefited him.

His plan and promise to the priestess would be his first move. Asura planned to conquer Romantica and use its holy artefact to form a barrier that protected both kingdoms. However, this barrier would be weaker, and he would need to find allies who would follow him.

Asura felt confident this path would be better than waiting in Silvara for the enemy to act first. ‘Rather, the cult is trying to take Romantica, so let’s get a little payback.’

Asura pulled himself up and stood at the edge of the bed. His wounds had healed enough for him to stand, though his lower body remained sore and tired.

Helliana stopped eating her rabbit apple as she walked towards Asura and wrapped her arms around his waist.

A sudden warmth filled his body, the pure Animus from her so compatible with his. The pleasure and healing happened almost instantly as her hands clasped his chest, pressing her face against the back of his neck so her warm breath flowed down his collarbone, making him tingle.

“Your injuries should be healed now. But please be careful when you take on beings far beyond you. After all, even the greatest kings fall, my love.”

She gently stroked his bare skin before pecking his shoulder with a soft kiss, a brief sigh escaping her lips before Asura turned around and held her tightly, his eyes interlocked with hers, his pupils filled with adoration and happiness.

“Thank you.” He lowered his lips and met with hers, a gentle yet affectionate kiss. They remained this way for a few seconds before Helliana pushed herself away with a slight grin.

Her cheeks blushed as she hummed a delightful tune.

“Your body still needs some rest. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back.” She took a step back, her tone teasing and full of desire. “So please take care of your health, fufu, because I will not stop myself next time.”

Her voice sounded like a warning, yet Asura couldn’t stop smiling and knew she would be waiting for him.

The pair remained quiet as their fingers touched, stroking and interlocking while squeezing tight before the door sounded with three knocks.

“Prince Asura, are you awake? You’ve been in there for a day, but I heard you wished to see me?”

Helliana gave him one more kiss, her tongue and breath tasting sweet like the apple she had eaten. Her giggles sent waves of heat through his body. “Your friend is here.”

With a gentle nudge, she guided him to the door, her aura warming him as he opened the door to see Ignis in her silver armour but with a bloody bandage covering her left arm.

“Your Highness…” She raised her brow, noticing him half naked; with the bandages removed, all the blood and injuries she had seen only a few hours ago now healed, not even a scar.

Her eyes flickered to his black scales, which led down to his pelvis and shoulders, but she turned back to his face, her cheeks slightly pink. “I am glad you have recovered so quickly.”

“Call me commander, like before. Don’t worry about my title, for now, Ignis.”

Asura did not want to stand here in his undergarments, so he invited Ignis in. Then he noticed Helliana, who magically moved back to the bed and began peeling more apples with an ethereal aura. “Commander, this is?”

He saw Ignis glance at Helliana before turning to him. “My wife, Helliana.”

“Oh…” Her words faded as she looked back at Helliana with a complicated gaze before returning to Asura. It seemed she wanted to speak about the princess, but Asura just winked at Ignis, who nodded, seeming to have come to some kind of conclusion herself.

‘She will figure it out in time. No reason to hide it.’

“Nice to meet you, Lady Helliana.” Ignis gave a stiff but respectful bow and greeting.

“Fufu, the feeling is the same: Captain Ignis of the Seventh Valkyrie Unit.”

“Can you help me prepare my equipment? We need to head back to the palace and prepare to leave,” Asura asked Ignis, noticing that the room only carried a basic set of noble-style tunics and pants for him to wear and none of his equipment.

“Of course. Since you said you wanted me, I have already sent word to recall the entire unit back to the capital. Also, an unexpected person requested to join the seventh unit and will come to visit you soon..”

Ignis turned around and walked outside the room.

Asura glanced at Helliana one more time, who put the knife down and ate the apple rabbit with a bright smile before waving. It seemed she didn’t wish to join him during his meeting with the queen.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t disappear again, okay?”

Once outside the room, Ignis followed him along the corridor, glancing at his black scales. “Commander, what is your plan now that the barrier is down? Do you plan to stay here and defend Silvara with the princess?”

“We will head to Romantica and destroy the cultists and conquer the land.”

Ignis’s footsteps came to a halt.

“What do you mean? They have thousands of soldiers, and the armies of Silvara cannot travel that far. Even if your troops had high morale, that is a feat…”

“They have me, Ignis. I will crush the enemy.”

He grinned after noticing that her body shivered before she bowed. “As you wish, Commander.”

“Fufu, you handsome fool. You have not changed a bit.”

A quiet voice echoed from behind before a tall woman hugged him from behind—her strength and calming scent stopped him from retaliating.

“Sigurd, you’re finally back?”