Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)-Chapter 320: Lingering Wounds
Third Person's POV
He could now see clearly that this boy was no mere pawn or some inexperienced young master who had not seen much of the world despite his monstrous talent.
On the contrary, he was shrewd, cautious, and one who was not easily manipulated.
In the next moment, Telor's deep voice echoed through the meadow,
"I swear on my soul, and upon the noble Astral Realm, that I will not reveal anything about today's events or your identities to any being."
Ethan listened closely to every syllable and made sure that there was no room for interpretation or any cleverly worded loophole that could later be twisted.
Finding nothing major, he nodded in a satisfied manner.
This level of verbal scrutiny came from years of reading old fantasy tales in his previous life, where there were ample stories full of oathbreakers and schemers who danced around words like poets with knives.
He tossed Aram's body toward the demon knight, who caught it effortlessly.
As a final precaution, Telor once more checked the boy's pulse and scanned for any visible tampering.
But he didn't find anything major, and nodding in satisfaction, he looked up, only to meet Ethan's steady gaze.
Ethan gave a parting wave and said,
"He will wake in a few hours. And you don't have to worry, as his memory of today's major events has been handled."
Ethan gave a vague and brief word and continued,
"For now and after this, your only job is to keep your vow and wait..."
He paused as his voice gained a quiet firmness.
"I expect to see you in the Abyssal Sanctum soon.
Bring those two idiot brothers with you, and we will proceed to the next phase of our plan.
If you cooperate properly and truthfully, then the opportunity I promised will be yours. And for that, you have my promise."
Saying his final words, Ethan turned and walked toward the girls calmly and with steady steps, without fearing any sudden ambush or sneak attack from the demon knight.
And the major reason behind it was the eerie silhouette of the blood slave that drifted behind him like a sentient shadow, with its presence sending shivers through the silent demon knight.
As Ethan stepped into the carriage with the girls, the dark apparition wordlessly took hold of the reins.
Without a sound, it urged the spectral horses forward.
The old carriage groaned softly and then glided into motion while creaking across the broken path like a funeral procession.
From behind, the demon knight Telor watched the retreating vehicle with narrowed eyes.
A sense of unease stirred in his chest as the dark carriage was slowly swallowed by the forest's veil and vanishing like mist under the bloody moonlight.
The sensation of that unnatural presence, that dark shadow, still lingered on his skin like a cold film.
He clenched his fists slightly and breathed in deeply as the earlier thought in his mind solidified even further.
That creature alone… is far beyond me.
But then, his gaze shifted upward, and his lips curled faintly as the blood-red moon cast a haunting light through the trees.
Excitement burned quietly in his eyes as, for all the strangeness and risks of the night, he had gained something precious.
Who would have imagined that someone like me would get a chance to receive guidance from a true forbidden existence.
Even as he allowed himself that sliver of hope, the pragmatism of a veteran warrior returned to him.
Without hesitation, he proceeded to obliterate all traces of the ambush and scattered ashes of what remained of the men who once fought beside him, as he left no loose ends.
With Aram slung over his shoulder like dead weight, he vanished into the night-darkened forest, his silhouette dissolving into the trees.
Meanwhile, atop the slowly moving carriage, Ethan lay sprawled on the roof like a man who had barely escaped death's claws.
The wood beneath him creaked faintly as the wheels rolled over uneven terrain while the wind brushed his face like icy fingers.
He exhaled deeply, his brows furrowed, but he finally allowed his control to slip just enough for the agony to bleed through.
For the past hour, he had kept the pain at bay and cloaked the burns and contained the traces of the foreign dark lightning within his body using his darkness.
But now, in safety and isolation, the effort crumbled.
He clenched his teeth as a wave of agony surged through him.
He had applied all the healing pastes and potions he had on hand.
But to his growing frustration, none had the intended effect.
They worked superficially in closing some shallow wounds and soothing his scorched skin, but just moments later, those same spots would tear open again and weeping out blackened blood and vile infected pus. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
He stared at the corrosive mess oozing from his injuries with narrowed eyes.
The stench was sharp, metallic, and tinged with a burning smell.
His skin writhed, bubbled, and split as if the darkness in his blood refused to rest.
The pain was immense. It was hot and biting as it crawled like fire ants beneath his skin.
But Ethan didn't scream or groan even a single time.
He merely frowned, and the muscles of his jaw twitched as he endured it in silence.
Such pain was no stranger to him as he had known its bite in many forms.
From the deadly battlefield of his two lives, in training halls, and in moments of acute crisis.
And for him, this was just another trial.
Inside the carriage, the girls had disobeyed his earlier command to stay uninvolved.
They peeked from within and stole glances at him through the cracks in the curtains.
Ethan sensed them instantly on feeling their faint but familiar spiritual presences.
But like usual chauvinistic men, he didn't stop them, as in truth, he wanted them to witness his current state and understand the price of keeping him and them safe from dangerous and powerful enemies.
