Demon Prince's Forsaken Bride-Chapter 49: A Mysterious Person (4)

Once Lareina was gone, Azrael clutched his chest and coughed. Feeling a weight trail down the corner of his lips, he lifted his finger and touched it. On his pale fingers, there was blood that looked almost purplish.

He calmly wiped it away and lifted his right hand and his long ice sword condensed in his palm. The sword was surrounded by a deathly chill and a black thick aura that gradually spread around the inn. It extended beyond the entire area around the inn and kept spreading.

Upstairs, Astra, who was arranging the equipment of disguise in her bag, looked up at Rune who was reading a training method scroll, ’’That’s the gen... prince’s sword aura!"

Rune had already been alerted.

The more powerful a person is, be it a demon with demonic powers or humans with their internal powers, the further invincible their weapons would be, so missing out on such a dense sword aura was impossible. And having fought side by side in the battle, they could easily recognize Azrael’s weapon.

’’Why did His Highness have to summon Reinor in a place like this...?"

The both of them had their room facing the opposite side of the garden so they had to sense the sword aura. They opened the door at the same time but they were greeted by the sight of Lareina who had her hand raised to knock.

’’I would need one of you to accompany me...’’ When they did not budge, she spoke up, ’’It’s His Highness’ words,’’ she clarified since it seemed like she was crossing the boundaries by commanding Azrael’s subordinates.

’’I would go with you, My Lady,’’ Astra met Rune’s gaze once before she stepped forward.

Once they left, Rune also swiftly dispersed in the crowd before appearing at the place where he had last felt the sword aura. However, when he reached the garden, the place was empty. And there were no signs of a battle anywhere nearby. The sword aura had appeared and disappeared like an illusion.

...

In an empty alleyway.

Azrael lowered his hand as he glanced at the man standing opposite to him, ’’You manage to cover quite some distance. Impressive,’’ He stepped towards the man as he spoke, ’’But I believe you cannot run any longer, can you?"

The man was dressed in a black robe, his face was covered. The only thing that gave his gender was his stature and posture. An odd sense of familiarity struck Azrael when he saw the man as if he had seen the person before but he could not put a finger where. It was like a part of his memory was missing or tampered with.

Just this thought alone gave him an obtrusive pain in the head, making him halt in his tracks momentarily.

The man snickered, ’’You are the one who is impressive, Your Highness. You certainly live up to your great reputation. Compared to that lustful pair of father and son who hold the realm in their grasp as the Lord and the Crown Prince, it’s you who is more deserving instead. Other than inviting chaos and pushing you forward into fire, what are they capable of?"

Azrael pursed his lips, not saying a word. Those words seemed to have hit a nerve.

There was a smile in the man’s voice when he spoke again, ’’You are the one who should be sitting on that throne.’’

Azrael looked up, eyes turning a shade of red, ’’Are you done?"

The man seemed to not have expected this response.

Azrael sneered as a trail of blood dripped from his palm. For a moment, he seemed to have really been pulled into whatever the person was saying but the word ’sitting on the throne’ stirred something in him. All his life, he never had the desire to sit on that throne that was built on countless bones and carnage. In that momentary distraction of his, he exerted his willpower and dug his fingers infused with demonic powers right into his palm. Just the right amount of pain to wake him up.

’’Let me not beat around the bush, Your Highness. You might think of me as the bad guy who is sowing discord between you and your royal brothers and father but I am merely stating a fact. Those brothers of yours, that eccentric crown prince, that useless third prince and even that fourth prince who is a dolt are all invalids. Your father is an imbecile considering his treatment towards this capable son who has saved his ass time and time again.’’

Azrael raised his hand.

But before he could manifest his sword, the man said something that rooted him to his spot, ’’But the agreement you felt when I uttered these words was not because I did something. Rather, these are your own thoughts.’’

Those words stunned Azrael briefly.

’’Even the hatred you feel towards your human wife is not my doing, Your Highness. Rather, it is your own resentment. I merely amplify these emotions of yours so that you cannot repress them in a corner of your heart.’’

’’It’s you,’’ Azrael narrowed his eyes. If things did not make sense before, they did now. He still could not remember encountering this man but it was not difficult for him to conclude why there was a gap in his memory.

’’I merely...’’ the man trailed off because Azrael did not give him a chance to continue his words as an ice sword riveted towards him, pinning him to the ground, the tip of the sword touching his neck.

’’State your motive and I will let you die in one piece,’’ Azrael stepped towards the man, step by step. When he stood near his head, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Y-You don’t believe my words...’’ the man stuttered, eyes wide.

Azrael’s lips curved into a smile that looked imposing and self assured, gracing his cold face with a hint of evil charm, ’’You just said I live up to my great reputation. How could I have managed to do that if I listened to others bullshit?"