Chapter 267: 267 266 words, it's hot in this time of year.

--It was a theatrical spectacle that had been built up.

As he sat there, his body sobbing with every breath, Philos-Treit swallowed his spit. As his throat moved, pain shot through his limbs again. But as if she forgot about that, she just stared at the scene in front of her. There were two swaying shadows.

On the one hand, the demon of the flames. Was it a demon disguised as a man, or was it a man disguised as a demon? It was none other than the one who had once called himself Roseau.

If a demon raises one hand, it will cause flames to spread around it. It is far from a natural flame, nor is it wielded by magic. It is not something that was created for human use.

It is a rage unleashed only to devour human life. Every time it opens its palm lightly, it tears through the night. As if it wanted to scorch the night itself.

At the same time, a flaming serpent was sprouting fangs from the fingertips of the demonic. The snake flew through the air, scattering sparks of fire and showing its ferocious fangs. It was as if the fire itself had a will of its own. Many of them spilled out of Roseau's palm.

It's impossible. I've never heard of magic or witchcraft creating a willful demon. That's the realm of myths and fairy tales. Are you suggesting that this demon is such a being?

Philos-Treit opens his eyelids, his white eyes numb. Then, instead of his motionless lips, he spoke in his heart.

--So, what is that thing, relative to the mythical being?

A purple light runs with a green shadow. The slash that bit through the sky split the jaws of the fire snake.

Once, twice, three times. Every time a ripple of flame landed on his body, he raised his sword of purple light and leapt at the snake's neck and chin. His eyes seemed to Philos-Treit to have the same heat as Roseau's.

Lugis, the man of vices. That was the name of the man who had faced his demons, and yet continued to wield his blade.

Philos-Treit no longer knew what he was looking at. A wave of questions rises and falls in his head.

Just a moment ago, I was in a prison waiting to die, and now I'm being held by that villain, and now I'm being forced to watch this unrealistic play.

I don't understand. The truth is, I feel like I've been wiped out by the devil and I'm dead, and that's why I'm dreaming like this. It's a very unpleasant dream.

But the horrible pain that washed over her told her that this was not a play, this was real. Philos-Treit shakes her fingertips as she feels her white eyes tighten. In the depths of his guts, there was only regret.

Why hadn't I flailed more and tried to get away from that villain while he held me? It was humiliating enough to let such a selfish man do as he pleased. What was I doing to upset myself?

Philos-Treit is a man of great pride, and in a sense he is a man trapped by that pride. He is incapable of acting or behaving in a way that is out of line with his pride. That is why I could not act rashly.

The pride of being a ruler constricts Philos-Treit to no end. But even in her dying moments, she would not abandon it. Because that is the vow she made when she took her family into her hands. How could she abandon it?

That's why she still can't even hate Roseau, the man who whipped her and threw her in jail. Although she has her own feelings of love and hate, in essence, she wants to be a ruler. She has no choice but to be hateful towards the citizens.

But... That villain, Lugis, is not a citizen.

And an enemy to be hated. A good enemy to hate. Philos-Treit's lips quirked as he realized this.

Yes, it's an enemy. An abomination. That's why she decided to think about it as much as she could--oh, how hateful. My heart burns. I want to wring its neck. The damaged whites of her eyes almost erupt in heat.

The sword fight in front of me is about to come to an end.

Even if Roseau tried to pull the flame snake and the pillar of fire, they were all blocked by the purple light. Each swing of Lugis's sword was as if he knew how to handle the flames. That sword behaved as if it had fought the same being once before.

The sight of the sword shattering the blazing flames was almost upon us. Both of Lugis's hands were swept aside.

--The moment it seemed so. The purple, which until now had been drawing fine lines, shifted slightly. You can see the figure of Lugis with his eyes wide open in Philos-Treit's vision.

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What had happened? It's hard to tell from the outside. But he certainly stopped for a moment. Would the demonic snakes miss that chance?

His eyelids fluttered. The next time Philos-Treit opened his eyes, he saw Lugis, his right arm being eaten by a flaming snake.

My heart is burning.

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"What the...?

My right arm was flung away from the treasure sword. I felt the fangs of the flame bite into my flesh. It's beyond the line of hot and painful. Something is lost from my body, and I feel it decay. My foot stomped on the spot.

Not wanting to miss a moment, the snake that had bitten my right arm spread its jaws exaggeratedly. It must have been trying to tear my arm off.

That's not good. Forcibly drive your waist and swing your left arm. Then, with the momentum of gouging out his right arm, he sank his sword into the snake. The heat of the flame and the sharp pain shattered his right arm at the same time.

At the last moment, the flaming serpent made sparks as if it was laughing and scattered its body into the night.

I was relieved to see my right arm released, but the pain and heat made my breathing ragged. He clenched his teeth and kicked the roof to reflexively get away from Roseau.

His eyes hardened. His right arm was almost useless. Probably not going to be useful anytime soon. At best, he could keep it hanging out of the way.

But this isn't what's at stake.

I was feeling the heat of the flaming snake's fangs from all but my right arm, as if it were easy. The back of my bitten teeth shifted, and a distorted sound rang out.

--My heart was heating up. My heart is burning up, like it's about to burst into flames.

A sob escapes unconsciously. The breath coming out of your mouth is like fire itself.

My throat feels like it's burning and my lungs feel like they're burning. This feeling of being devoured not from the outside of my body but from the inside. My legs are about to collapse, but I struggle to keep them from digging into the roof.

What the hell is this? What's happening?

It took so long to ignite. Your body is being protected by something, grudge.

Roseau says as he taps on the red brick. I saw a figure approaching me with a blazing fire in its body. No longer needing the flaming snake, he moves his legs forward without waving his arms.

To be honest, I don't know what's going on. The only thing I know for sure is that the heat from the flames is a trick that Roseau's guy set up. Then we'll have to kill it first. With his left arm, which was still intact, he grasped the treasured sword tightly.

Instantly, a sensation as if my body were being burned to the ground arose from within. I opened my eyes.

The heat is no longer mine, it is yours, Rougis-Vliriganth.

Roseau says in a whisper. "The heat is no longer mine.

"As long as a man is a man, he will have hatred in his heart, he will envy someone. That is the flame. The flame will surely consume you.

Once again, the flames that make up Roseau erupt and burst into flame. As always, only his eyes shine brightly, as if thirsty for something.

"My bitter enemy. You and I are the same, so let's burn it all up. After all, there is too much fuel for hatred in this world.

At the same time, my heart burned, burned. My vision blurred.

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