Frieren: Attribute Hero Chapter 89: Revenge Must Be Paid in Blood

In a simple room.

The countess was wiping down a treasured sword.

It was a broadsword covered in scratches, its edge already sowhat rolled. In the eyes of any warrior or soldier, it would have long since been considered a [scrapped] sword.

But the countess cleaned it with great care. The look in her eyes as she gazed at the blade was gentle and loving, as though it were the most precious treasure in the world.

Creak.

The door was pushed open by two soldiers, and Count Granat walked in.

He was dressed in military uniform, his face cold and stern. His entire bearing carried the air of soone decisive in killing and command, a dignified man of high standing. Yet when he walked up behind the countess and stopped, his voice was calm in a way that did not match his appearance at all.

"My lady."

The countess raised her head and looked at him gently.

"How is it? Has my sword-cleaning technique improved?"

Granat took the sword from her hands, a flash of grief passing through his eyes.

"It has. That boy probably won't complain anymore."

"Haha." The countess chuckled softly. "That brat was always complaining that I was clumsy."

Granat placed the sword back onto the sword stand on the table, then raised a hand and rested it on his wife's shoulder, patting her lightly as if to comfort her.

The countess placed her own hand over that rough, large hand. One sitting, one standing, the two simply leaned against each other like that.

A gentle warmth flowed between them.

A mont later, the countess spoke again.

"Dear, do you still rember what we were like when we first t?"

When he heard that question, Granat's body stiffened slightly.

His gaze involuntarily fell to the countess's leg.

Sensing her husband's tension, the countess gently stroked his fingers.

"Don't worry. It was only an ambush by two demon children who tore off one of my legs. It stopped hurting long ago."

Granat frowned softly at his wife's casual description.

"Wounds caused by demons gnawing at flesh are difficult to heal completely, even if treated by the most talented priest from the Holy City, Strahl. How could it possibly have stopped hurting..."

The countess's hand, resting on her leg, slowly clenched.

She had thought she had hidden it very well.

But it turned out that even when you smiled, the person closest to you could still see the pain behind that smile.

"Yes. Difficult to heal, indeed."

As she spoke, the countess's gaze once again turned to the sword she had just finished cleaning.

"I saw a young man today. He had a pair of very beautiful black eyes. The light in those eyes was calm, yet carried a hidden sharpness. They were exactly like our son's."

"And even that confident, high-spirited way he spoke was the sa."

"I liked him the mont I saw him."

"Coincidentally, he also likes using one-handed swords."

Granat listened quietly, and a trace of softness gradually appeared in his eyes as well.

"Do you still rember what that brat said when you were teaching him swordsmanship?"

"Broadswords are clumsy and ugly. I'm going to win the King's Tournant, and with so many beautiful ladies watching , of course I have to use the coolest one-handed sword." Granat imitated his son's tone, nostalgia appearing on his face.

The countess laughed along with him.

"Later, when the king bestowed this sword upon him, he imdiately changed his tune and said that a broadsword was still best for the battlefield. Honestly, what battlefield does an eighteen-year-old child have any business going to..."

At that point, the count and countess both fell silent at the sa ti.

Yes.

An eighteen-year-old child.

"Why is it that when demons want war, there must be war, and when they don't want it, there must not be? What exactly are humans in their eyes..."

"Dear, I don't want to see any more children die. Between us and Aura..."

"Let us bring this to an end."

Granat's gaze passed through the room's window and looked toward the streets outside the castle. There were rchants haggling over prices, children running through the streets and playing, and countless ordinary people living peaceful lives.

At this mont, they lived in tranquility.

But three months ago, the sound of grief and weeping still drifted through these streets from ti to ti.

Those were mothers calling out for lost sons. Those were children frightened after losing their fathers. Those were people left terrified after repeated demon attacks.

A long ti later, the count's low voice rang out in the quiet room.

"Very well."

Additional sentry posts were set up on streets throughout the main city.

Even the marketplace now had soldiers patrolling back and forth.

People shut their doors tightly one after another and hid inside their hos.

Because demons had entered the city.

Lügner looked at the soldiers and civilians on full alert, then gave Granat a sowhat helpless expression.

"Seeing everyone so frightened pains deeply, Lord Count."

"It seems our peace talks have indeed co too late."

Granat neither agreed nor denied it.

"Long years of hostility cannot be resolved in a single day."

Hearing this, Lügner nodded slightly.

"In that case, we must work all the harder so that this city may welco peace as soon as possible."

"Of course."

Amid polite small talk, the two walked into the count's manor.

Creak.

A soldier pushed open the door, and the group entered a small room that looked rather simple.

Lügner swept his eyes over it.

Although his knowledge of human etiquette was only superficial, choosing such a crude place for peace talks was still sowhat unreasonable.

Or perhaps this was a negotiation tactic ant to intimidate him from the start.

He sneered inwardly. How low-class.

However, on the surface, he cooperatively showed a slightly surprised expression.

"This place is?"

"My son's room. He paid a great deal for these [peace talks]."

"Oh? So he was also a lover of peace? May I ask where your son is now?"

"He died ten years ago, in the battle against Aura."

The mont Granat's words fell...

Whoosh.

A magic beam that seed almost solid pierced through from the other side of the wall, accompanied by a trendous explosion.

Caught completely off guard, Lügner was pierced through on the spot.

The massive impact sent his entire body flying backward, slamming into the wall on one side and smashing a terrifying crack into it.

The pink-haired demon girl beside him did not hesitate. She imdiately produced a weapon ford from mana and prepared to fight.

The countess, holding a staff, slowly stepped out from behind the shattered wall.

At the sa ti, Granat's furious voice rang out at just the right mont.

"Lügner, I didn't bring you here for so damned peace talks. There is only one purpose to this visit: revenge for every warrior who died at your hands!"

"You man-eating beasts, die!!"

Listening to the count's enraged roar, Lügner lowered his head and could not help laughing.

The horrifying wound that had destroyed half his body was healing at a terrifying speed.

"Count Granat, it seems you have lost your final chance to save this city."

Seeing this scene that surpassed all common sense, the count and countess, who had thought victory was already in their grasp, froze in an instant.

Just then...

No one noticed that a purple figure had appeared outside the window.