Chapter 395: 395 Article 394 "The Face of Master and Servant"

Arche, the city of demonic reign. The royal palace.

In the throne room of the royal palace, where the original master has disappeared, Drigman, the ruler, stares at a piece of the ring. His body is sitting on a chair, and his fingertips feel the heat of the treasure.

It is a magical tool that was given to him by the spirit god Zebreylith in the past. The embodiment of myth, of divine will itself.

The ring, which contains a miracle that allows it to control humans and subspecies, continues to shine with an unchanging radiance from the past. Except for the loss of half its body.

Drigman's eyes widen with searing anger and pure wonder. He seemed unable to realize that the ring had been split, even though it was right in front of him.

When something that should be impossible is happening right in front of you. Everyone is unsure of how to react. Should we be surprised or bewildered? Drigman's mind was a strange one.

But that's okay. This will all come back together again.

After all, Drigman could feel that the half of the ring was now approaching him without a break.

There is a curse on the ring. A spell that had once entwined him with physical death when Althea had taken it from him.

This ring is destined to come back to you. No matter what happens, you cannot change your fate once it is set.

When Drigman finally put the ring away with a hard face, Verg, a magical beast with the underbelly of a horse, clapped his hooves and opened his mouth. Apparently, he had been waiting for his master to regain his composure.

At sunrise, the humans outside the city began a small-scale offensive. Our troops are already on their way and ready to fight back. Are we ready to respond?

The neighing of the neighbors of the Warg's voice was answered with a yes, and after chewing on it, Drigman continued. At least to the Verg, it didn't sound like a crisis, it sounded like he was deeply moved.

The human race is getting stronger. It's astonishing.

To be honest, the Verg was at a loss for an answer. Should he reply, "Yes, I suppose so," or should he say, "Let's see what you can do with all your armor?

When he saw the beastly expression on Verg's face, Drigman smiled, said he was sorry to trouble him, and then continued.

It's not your body that has become strong, but your soul. In the past, it was unimaginable that a man would be born to lead an army against the demonic.

There was a time when demons trod the earth freely. In those days, not many people could lead an army or even think for themselves.

They were chattel for the demonic, pet animals, and sometimes food. Everyone accepted that. Most people would never have thought of rebelling against the demonic.

It was natural for them to be taken and oppressed, and the demons understood that it was natural for them to do so.

In such a time of peace and happiness for everyone, there was only one person who took up arms, cast a spell, and showed his fangs to the demonic. As if guided by divine will, she brought all demons to their knees and established the myth of humanity.

--Althea, the human hero.

Drigman's brow furrows as he mutters the name of the abominable woman in his mind. He then sighs, letting out all the emotions that come from that.

I'm not sure what to think, but I can't just leave the matter at hand. In order to reach Althea's neck, he had to defeat the human species against all odds. This is just the prelude to a long, long road ahead.

I know what they're thinking. Most of the people out there are probably just a diversion. There will always be a separate force on the ground. I'd say they're trying to shake us up by storming the city.

The Verg responded to Drigman's words with a slight nod. He couldn't tell if it was right or not, but he trusted Drigman enough to accept it.

I'll grind them down one by one. You'll lead the troops to the other side, Verg. What you're doing is just a form of harassment. Keep it down to the point where it doesn't upset anyone.

The horse's hooves clop as it responds to its master's words, and the Verg opens his mouth in response.

"Yes, sir. Sir, I will prepare the troops. If there's a detachment, then you're the only one they'll be after.

A diversion and a detachment. If they were prepared, then the Verg could guess what the humans would think and do. Or perhaps he was just strangely wise while under his master's care.

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In other words, the humans are trying to capture the chief demon somehow.

I know that's impossible. But there's no guarantee that the humans won't stir up some nasty schemes and hurt their master. And there's the matter of the other demon who spat out blood and forced his way out.

Then we should at least leave this palace, which is too conspicuous.

It's easier to defend than other structures, but with so many soldiers out, there's little point in staying here.

Drigman said in a firm voice to Verg, who moved his hoof.

I will not do that. I'll stay here and intercept some of the detachment. Verg, you can't leave those people on their way to the palace. You will only suppress those who wish to tamper with the city.

For the first time, Verg couldn't nod his head in agreement with Drigman's words. For the first time, he couldn't nod his head to Drigman's words because he didn't understand what they meant.

However, Drigman's words were powerful enough to force him to accept them. He had a dignified appearance, and looked at Verg with a strong expression. There was, of course, no hint of a joke in it.

Why? The enemy is clearly targeting our core, the Majin.

Then all we have to do is divide their path with our troops or disrupt them so that they can't shoot at us. The more time that passes, the more advantageous it will be for us.

There is no point in reluctantly getting into the opponent's hands and intercepting him. It will only make them feel better. Trying to keep the words from rolling off his tongue, he asked in a quiet voice why.

Drigman's lips twisted slightly and he said, "This is the first time you've asked me why.

...... This throne is reserved for the spirit god Zebraeliris. You can't take it away from him if you want him to come to his senses.

Even as he said this, Drigman's voice did not contain much heat. It sounded to the Verg like a reason he had made up for this moment.

It is true that Drigman had a kind of magic mechanism here, but it is not something that can be easily broken down by humans. Even if they could get in, what would be the problem? At best, they would have to worry about the humans ransacking the palace.

So perhaps what came next was the real deal, the Verg thought.

And then there's the jewel. She's a woman who won't change her mind, even if it means putting a curse on herself. And once she does, nothing in the world can change her. Because that's what a jewel is. Therefore, once we are enemies, it will only end when I or she die.

--And so, the jewel Bhau-Agatha is a master of the many and the military. He is skilled at strangling more people. The more men he has, the more he will die.

Drigman said, lifting the glass he had in his hand and putting it to his lips. At this point, the Verg finally realized what his master was trying to say.

The moment he did, he opened his mouth reflexively. The roar of a magical beast stroked the palace.

"My Lord Controller. No, my soldiers and I are not afraid of losing our lives. Especially if it's a meaningful death!　Who would have the pale face of cowardice?

Verg says, emphasizing that hexenbiests, or any hexenbiest, are like that. I could see that his eyes had been abducted to a degree that was unheard of in his entire life. He could not directly contradict his master's words, but he could say them.

Drigman's expression remained unchanged, but his voice changed slightly as he said.

Thank you. Your words are a great honor to me. But, Verg. My orders to you remain the same.

His voice had the power to crush his opponent's words. I'm not going to let you get away with it.

I'm not going to be able to do that. I'm not sure if you've heard of it or not, but I have. If the jewel comes here, I will not die. But you will. Even if you allow it, I will never allow it.

I won't say it again. You do what you have to do, said Drigman. The Verg pounded his hoof against the floor three times. He said nothing more. He hung his head and obeyed the words of the ruler.

There was only the silent exchange of a master-servant relationship. Drigman put his lips to the glass again and squinted.

As he did so, he sensed that a piece of the ring was coming closer to the palace.

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