“Haa.”
Meanwhile, Owen heard his daughter’s heart and had complicated feelings. He often came to the capital for business and was also well aware of Akkard’s notoriety.
But the man he met in person was nicer than he expected. He encouraged Owen and Calix, who were constantly falling during the mission, without scorn and led them with bravery, strength, and compassion.
Of course, he might be a good-looking guy, but Owen didn’t consider or think much of it. In the first place, he could tell what kind of human Akkard was just by looking at the eyes of the subordinates who loyally followed him.
He was someone worth risking their lives for. And if it was a man who could be trusted that much by subordinates, maybe… … .
‘Maybe he’s worth entrusting my daughter to.’
It was when Owen thought that quietly. The maid, standing by the wide open door, carefully opened her mouth.
“Master, my lady. A messenger from His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived.”
When she heard the news, Damia got up and ran out.
The distance wasn’t too far from the royal palace. But to Damia, the journey was too long.
It was the same with her arrival. She urged the guiding attendant:
“Can’t you go a little faster?”
Thanks to her urging, she and the attendant were almost running by the end. But Damia didn’t even realize she was out of breath and frantically moved.
Upon entering, the first thing she saw was unexpectedly Sienna’s face. Standing with a vague and unreadable expression, she turned around.
“Oh, you are here.”
Usually, she would have greeted Sienna courteously, but now she could not see anything else. Damia skipped all manners and pleasantries and breathlessly asked the main point:
“He?”
“Sleeping inside,”
Sienna replied.
Heinrich moved so quickly that Akkard did not die. It seemed fortunate, but there was still cause for alarm… … the only consolation was that he was, literally, not “dead.”
Reviving distant history with its horrific infamy as heretical inquisitors, Akkard was tortured horribly in the High Temple. Having lost the Saint and all their corruption exposed, they flocked to relieve their resentments.
As a result, all of Akkard’s men and Calix, also lost their lives. Originally, Akkard should have died along with them.
But luckily, one of the guards in charge of Akkard betrayed the temple. He thought it suspicious that the high priests were tight-lipped in front of him, but behind closed doors, they were busy packing their luggage and stealing valuables.
It was as if the Great Shrine was about to collapse.
The warden sensed an ominous foreboding and decided to find a way to survive independently. So he secretly asked for a deal, using the life of Akkard, who was quite the tycoon.
Of course, Heinrich accepted.
“I’m glad he has a strong life line,”
Sienna mumbled, but nothing could reach Damia’s ears. She hurried past Sienna, trying to get inside.
But before that, Sienna held her by the arm and dissuaded her.
“It would be better not to see him now. His treatment isn’t over yet… … .”
“I’m sorry. I must go.”
Before she could finish speaking, Damia slipped out of her hand. And strode into the bedroom where the Akkard would be.
As soon as she stepped inside, the smell of disinfectant and a stench stung her nose. Doctors and even healing priests surrounded the bed, while Akkard was nowhere to be seen.
“Wait a minute, hold on.”
She ran and stopped; Damia couldn’t squeeze in and get a look, afraid it would interfere with his treatment. All she had to do was tremble in her place and ask for forgiveness.
Fortunately, as Heinrich had already warned him, Doctor Duott gave up his seat. Seeing the bright red basins and blood-stained gauzes in their hands, Damia grew pale.
As she approached, dragging her shaking legs, she saw Akkard lying on the bed. Damia looked at him and covered her mouth with both her hands.
“Oh my goddess.”
His entire upper body, exposed outside the quilt—nothing was intact.
His skin, which was as smooth and beautiful as melted caramel, was now mottled with slashes, stabs, piercings, and burns. One arm was in a splint as if it had been broken, and the other arm was still wrapped in a chain, showing clear signs of infection and skin disease.
It wasn’t just that. His handsome face is also swollen and bruised with signs of terrifying violence. Even one eye was covered with bandages.
“Haa.”
Meanwhile, Owen heard his daughter’s heart and had complicated feelings. He often came to the capital for business and was also well aware of Akkard’s notoriety.
But the man he met in person was nicer than he expected. He encouraged Owen and Calix, who were constantly falling during the mission, without scorn and led them with bravery, strength, and compassion.
Of course, he might be a good-looking guy, but Owen didn’t consider or think much of it. In the first place, he could tell what kind of human Akkard was just by looking at the eyes of the subordinates who loyally followed him.
He was someone worth risking their lives for. And if it was a man who could be trusted that much by subordinates, maybe… … .
‘Maybe he’s worth entrusting my daughter to.’
It was when Owen thought that quietly. The maid, standing by the wide open door, carefully opened her mouth.
“Master, my lady. A messenger from His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived.”
When she heard the news, Damia got up and ran out.
The distance wasn’t too far from the royal palace. But to Damia, the journey was too long.
It was the same with her arrival. She urged the guiding attendant:
“Can’t you go a little faster?”
Thanks to her urging, she and the attendant were almost running by the end. But Damia didn’t even realize she was out of breath and frantically moved.
Upon entering, the first thing she saw was unexpectedly Sienna’s face. Standing with a vague and unreadable expression, she turned around.
“Oh, you are here.”
Usually, she would have greeted Sienna courteously, but now she could not see anything else. Damia skipped all manners and pleasantries and breathlessly asked the main point:
“He?”
“Sleeping inside,”
Sienna replied.
Heinrich moved so quickly that Akkard did not die. It seemed fortunate, but there was still cause for alarm… … the only consolation was that he was, literally, not “dead.”
Reviving distant history with its horrific infamy as heretical inquisitors, Akkard was tortured horribly in the High Temple. Having lost the Saint and all their corruption exposed, they flocked to relieve their resentments.
As a result, all of Akkard’s men and Calix, also lost their lives. Originally, Akkard should have died along with them.
But luckily, one of the guards in charge of Akkard betrayed the temple. He thought it suspicious that the high priests were tight-lipped in front of him, but behind closed doors, they were busy packing their luggage and stealing valuables.
It was as if the Great Shrine was about to collapse.
The warden sensed an ominous foreboding and decided to find a way to survive independently. So he secretly asked for a deal, using the life of Akkard, who was quite the tycoon.
Of course, Heinrich accepted.
“I’m glad he has a strong life line,”
Sienna mumbled, but nothing could reach Damia’s ears. She hurried past Sienna, trying to get inside.
But before that, Sienna held her by the arm and dissuaded her.
“It would be better not to see him now. His treatment isn’t over yet… … .”
“I’m sorry. I must go.”
Before she could finish speaking, Damia slipped out of her hand. And strode into the bedroom where the Akkard would be.
As soon as she stepped inside, the smell of disinfectant and a stench stung her nose. Doctors and even healing priests surrounded the bed, while Akkard was nowhere to be seen.
“Wait a minute, hold on.”
She ran and stopped; Damia couldn’t squeeze in and get a look, afraid it would interfere with his treatment. All she had to do was tremble in her place and ask for forgiveness.
Fortunately, as Heinrich had already warned him, Doctor Duott gave up his seat. Seeing the bright red basins and blood-stained gauzes in their hands, Damia grew pale.
As she approached, dragging her shaking legs, she saw Akkard lying on the bed. Damia looked at him and covered her mouth with both her hands.
“Oh my goddess.”
His entire upper body, exposed outside the quilt—nothing was intact.
His skin, which was as smooth and beautiful as melted caramel, was now mottled with slashes, stabs, piercings, and burns. One arm was in a splint as if it had been broken, and the other arm was still wrapped in a chain, showing clear signs of infection and skin disease.
It wasn’t just that. His handsome face is also swollen and bruised with signs of terrifying violence. Even one eye was covered with bandages.
