Gun of Ashes-Chapter 830 - 6: The Dying Man (Part 2)

He hoped to get some information from Ivar, Corey also considered torturing Ivar, but that would completely shut down any potential alliance, so he had no choice but to give up.

"Many people? Is Erin one of them?" Ivar asked.

"Yes, I was born into a very bad environment, and many people have similarly bad circumstances. I gave them the ability to survive, and they work for me; it's quite cost-effective."

Corey didn't directly answer these questions, but from the undertone of his words, Ivar could already guess a lot.

"Erin says you're a madman, willing to easily give up many things for the rise of Gaulunaro, even selling your soul to the Devil."

Ivar said calmly.

"Oh? I actually think I'm a pretty good person... Although to you, I'm a bad person, but to all the citizens of Gaulunaro, I am an unyielding hero. Through my efforts, Gaulunaro will have a greater tomorrow."

Corey doesn't like to talk about simple concepts of good and evil; that's what children say. He's simply in a different position and has different expectations of benefits.

"And do you think that woman's words are credible? She handed you over to me. It's a horrible feeling to be deceived, isn't it?"

Corey tried to pierce Ivar's heart, striking hard at that broken spot.

Ivar remained unmoved, not reacting at all. More strangely, after a brief silence, a faint smile appeared on his face.

"You... don't hate her?"

Corey asked in confusion.

Ivar shook his head as if he had figured out something. He was no longer as cautious as before and leaned against the wall, speaking leisurely.

"I don't hate her, how could I hate her?"

"But she deceived you."

"I know that."

Corey felt something was off. This should be the first time he had such a close conversation with Ivar; before he was busy dealing with Orthodoxy matters with Lawrence. Now he had the time.

"You knew she deceived you and still followed her?"

"Yeah." Ivar nodded.

"Why?"

Corey asked; he didn't think Ivar was a fool, so he must have his reasons for doing so.

"Why? Because I'm willing, simple as that."

Ivar didn't understand Corey's confusion; he answered simply like this.

"I can't explain this kind of thing either. It's like knowing it's wrong, yet willing to do it anyway, just for that fleeting moment of beauty. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's just that way. I'm only interested in those times spent with her, whether it's real or fake, it doesn't matter."

Corey was stunned, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"You sound like a fool."

"I already am a fool, and a disgrace to the Vikings," Ivar said, raising his hand, showing the shackles hanging from his slender wrist. Despite how bad it seemed, he didn't look sad, "Someone like me wouldn't be accepted by Odin."

"But who cares?"

Ivar said again.

"Humans are creatures that sometimes abandon everything they once held onto for some ridiculous things."

Listening to Ivar's "unrepentant" words, Corey didn't know what to say for a moment. It seemed like Erin might be his most exceptional child, managing to deceive such a strange guy into this state.

This resolute, still unrepentant state.

"And what about next? After returning to the Viking nations?"

Since Ivar was captured, he had become a disgrace to the Viking nations, not to mention that the Vikings even made concessions because of him. Corey could easily imagine Ivar's subsequent story, one he dared not envision.

"Return? I have no face to see my father anymore. If possible, I'd like to stay here."

Ivar said, looking out the window.

"I like it here. Though it's your country, it's warm here, no cold winds, no harsh winters."

Very strange, extremely strange; Corey couldn't guess Ivar's thoughts, couldn't understand what this guy was thinking. He thought Ivar might be a hopeless romantic, but now it seemed he was very peculiar, absurdly so.

In his impression, Vikings were all a bunch of hot-blooded lunatics, willing to sacrifice their lives to return to the Heroic Spirit Hall, but Ivar completely shattered his understanding of these things; he was indifferent to such glory and faith.

"Don't be surprised, they all say I'm Odin's abbandoned child, inherently deformed; I should have been killed in childhood, but thanks to my father's mercy, I, an unlooked-after child, survived. As for any God or glory, I don't care.

More than that, I think that kind of thing is stupid. Fighting to the death is considered good for some weird reasons, which is so ridiculous."

Ivar said slowly.

"So sometimes I don't blame myself. If I must apologize, I just feel that I've disappointed my father and brothers; after all, they all love me and try to protect me as much as possible."

"You care a lot about how your father sees you?"

Corey purposely directed the topic towards the King of the Ice Sea; he didn't care about this freak's miserable life but was interested in the guy named Ragnar Rodbrock.

"I love my father very much, thanks to him, I survived. Sometimes I hate him too; if he had killed me, I wouldn't have to face this cruel world."

Ivar said as he withdrew his hands, gently stroking the deformed feet under the blanket, hidden in darkness.

"What kind of man is he?" Corey asked.

"The chosen Viking, marauder, warrior, Odin's favorite hero."

The words paused, and Ivar spoke again.

"But he's also a pathetic guy. My father once told me that his biggest regret was becoming the King of the Ice Sea. He thought ending the civil war would bring the Viking nations a bright future, but every winter, many people still die of starvation and cold.

He's very confused."

Ivar looked at Corey and answered with a smile.

This was their first mutual gaze; before, Ivar had always deliberately avoided eye contact. Now Corey finally truly saw his eyes.

At this moment, Corey had a strange feeling he couldn't quite describe. Yes, Ivar was such a person; everything hid within him, thought you understood him, yet seemed to be led astray by him.

Those were dark blue eyes, as deep as the Silent Sea. His smile seemed so fake, like a mask.

Everyone wears masks, different masks, colorful masks, hiding their nature behind illusions.

"Who did the Vikings send?"

Ivar suddenly asked.

"Hebdo, your former guard." Corey answered.

"Is that so?"

Ivar didn't seem surprised by this answer, sat up straight, and looked composed.

"Hebdo, that annoying guy; he always mocked my deformity. He said I couldn't return to the Heroic Spirit Hall because I couldn't even wield a battle axe, let alone fight.

I've disappointed the Rodbrock bloodline, not even counting as Odin's warrior. I'm a living disgrace, destined not to achieve that so-called brave death."

Perhaps no one would think Hebdo said such words to Ivar, but judging by his icy tone, it was true.

Ivar had no reason to lie, and considering all his previous remarks, Corey vaguely thought Ivar could be converted. Of course, he wouldn't act rashly; after all, he was at least the director of the Iron Law Bureau. To easily trust others wouldn't fit his cunning style.

"Director Corey, I can call you that, right?"

Ivar asked again, and Corey nodded.

"Will you accompany the exchange as well?"

"Mm."

Corey confirmed with a definite answer.

Ivar said nothing more, maintaining the somewhat desolate smile, gazing at the warmth outside the window, his expression forlorn like a person on death's door.