They rode without rest.
The road between Amol and Babylon was far from smooth, especially after the goblin movents had torn through the outer lands. Broken branches, abandoned carts, and occasional bloodstains marked the path, leaving the horses to slow down more than once.
Even so, Luka didn’t stop.
Furia’s hooves struck the dirt road with a steady rhythm, while Galatea rode close behind him, her blue eyes constantly scanning the treeline.
Luvia remained further back, half-lounging on her saddle despite the speed, as if riding through the darkening forest were no different from walking through a garden.
Mildred sat before her.
For so reason, the woman had refused to ride with Galatea.
At the ti, she’d muttered, "...I dislike blondes," for the third ti.
Galatea’s eyebrow twitched, and before things could develop further into a fight, Luka decided to take action and rode ahead without allowing them to keep fighting.
Furia and Reina seed to enjoy being close together, so Levia couldn’t do anything foolish, while the wolf beneath Galatea remained faithful to Reina, its queen.
It seed that Luvia was trying to get to know Mildred, but sothing about her eyes made Luka think she wasn’t actually crazy, and it was all a ploy.
Though he wouldn’t call her out, not when the system claid her loyalty was at a level where it couldn’t break or fall any lower.
Yet she still didn’t know the truth.
It terrified him just how obsessive and strange she might beco if it slipped.
That he was Lucifer.
Would it awaken mories in her like Galatea... could even Iris regain mories of her past life due to him being so conduit or connection between the two planes of existence...
There was one thing Luka beca sure of after these events, though.
His father wasn’t as all-knowing as he thought.
After everything that happened, he didn’t have the luxury to question Mildred’s strange behaviour. His own body still ached from battle, his soul felt heavy from using powers he didn’t fully understand, and even the snake-like heat that slithered deeply inside his chest hadn’t settled.
But he couldn’t stop here.
Ironhold sought his presence.
His fiancée waited for him, and Babylon was still too fragile to endure a single wrong move. If that woman chose to break their connection, the supply of ore and leather might collapse, making survival past winter harsh.
’But I won’t beco her dog... Never!"
Lost in these bizarre thoughts, he missed the concerned glances of Galatea, who rode beside him, while clearly showing a strange atmosphere since hearing about Lady Ironhold before they left.
However, only ti would tell...
By the ti the first outpost lanterns appeared beyond the ridge, night had already fallen. The distance travelled to reach the outpost caused even Furia to wheeze and pant from exhaustion, her gallop now half the speed as before.
But the shouts from the eastern watchtower appeared to increase her determination.
"Riders! Riders bearing the Lord’s crest have appeared! Open the gates." A soldier with a deep voice shouted, the tremble of glee undeniable as cheers and shouts roared through the entire outpost.
With a low rumble of steel slamming against the wooden defences. Several knights rushed to the palisade, hands gripping spears and swords, only for their tension to break the mont Furia stepped into the torchlight.
"It’s Lord Luka!"
The words spread faster than a forest fire.
The gate opened with a heavy groan, and the remaining knights inside the outpost gathered near the entrance. Their armour looked well cleaned, their faces gaunt from worry and lack of sleep.
Yet the mont they saw Luka alive, their expressions brightened like a batch of fresh candles with visible relief.
"My Lord!"
"Lord Luka has returned!"
"Where are Sir Gerard and the others?"
Luka dismounted slowly; he couldn’t stop his lips from curling into a smirk at the energetic knights calling his na, but the long ride created a feeling of strain in his legs the mont his boots touched the ground.
He staggered, before Luvia swiftly slipped between him and Galatea, and helped him stabilise himself, using her plump breasts as a cushion for his chest.
"They’re alive, we have pushed back the goblin filth to the Fallen Lands! As for Sir Gerard, Vaun and Sir Zack, along with most of the n, I left them in Amol to help build a fortress to keep all goblins out!"
The knights exchanged looks.
Their lips trembled as all sorts of hesitation and fear faded. There was a growing glee in the depths of their eyes, and though so seed reluctant to ask, all of them had a single question.
"Amol... was it saved?"
"Yes, it’s saved. Though we have lost many brothers and sisters... the people of Amol have accepted as their Lord through my marriage to the Princess of Amol. Iris Fenix."
"WOAH!?"
"Our Lord is a ladies’ man!"
Many of the knights beca excited about the Lord’s marriage. Still, most of all to learn they would soon be able to ride through Amol unchallenged was likely a long-standing wish of theirs, no longer facing Militia or bandits... a united front.
’I cannot forget that a large number of Babylon’s warriors and knights ca from Amol rather than the mainland or central Kingdom...’
A large reason Ironhold and many other territories looked down on Babylon was its beautiful landscape and naturally defensive formation.
There was too much ’inferior’ blood here.
Before Luka could say more, a thin figure stepped through the torchlight.
Old Levi stood at the eastern gate, wrapped in a thick cloak, his grey hair slightly dishevelled and his back still straight despite the late hour.
He hadn’t slept.
Luka could tell that much from the dark circles beneath the old man’s eyes.
"My Lord."
Levi lowered his head deeply.
"Steward Levi..." Luka frowned. "Why are you still awake?"
The old man lifted his head.
"How could these old bones rest while my lord rode through uncertain roads?" Though there were traces of sleep in his eyes, Luka just accepted the old man’s affection and loyalty, because it was higher than even Luvia... who reached unexplicable numbers after he took her virginity.
Old Levi, despite his age, spoke with a calm yet stern voice.
One of the few people who would try to scold Luka if he did sothing wrong or went too far, he avoided treating him like a hero.
"I told the n I would retire once you appeared at the gate, but they forced to return, hahaha!"
Luka stared at him for a mont, then sighed, unable to hide the churning emotions inside. He hugged the old man, slapping his back several tis.
"You... my old guide, are more stubborn than Gerard."
Luvia chuckled softly behind him.
Galatea stepped down from her horse and helped Mildred dismount, though Mildred imdiately pulled her hand away and hid behind Luvia instead.
Levi’s gaze moved to them, stopping briefly on Mildred’s pale face.
There was a sudden shimr of blue light in the depths of his pupils, which caught Luka off guard as he quickly tried to read Levi’s status page.
But the old man’s gaze made him pause.
"My Lord... I see there is much to explain. Shall we have a quiet talk in my tent?"
Luka stared at him.
For a brief mont, the noise of the outpost faded. The cheering knights, the snorting horses, even Luvia’s amused murmur behind him all seed to sink beneath the strange blue shimr in Levi’s eyes.
’Magic?’
As he followed the old steward, certain things began to make sense: why the old man lingered beside his father and brought many talented people to Babylon over the years.
Yet mysteriously.
None of those people ever showed signs of betrayal or wrongdoing...
Inside the rustic tent, Luka sat on a fallen crate, while Old Levi stood a distance away with both arms behind his back.
"My Lord..."
Though his magic lacked force or power.
Almost pitifully weak compared to what Luka had seen from true monsters and heroes, but it was real. A thin thread of power gathered behind the old steward’s pupils, forming a small, delicate pattern that looked more like a cracked glass flower than a magic circle.
Levi noticed his gaze and gave a tired smile.
"Do not look so surprised, my Lord. This old man was never talented enough to boast."
"You are a magician?"
"A failed one."
Levi tapped the side of his head with one finger.
"I learned a single spell properly. Human Appraisal. A low-class spell that only reads the state of the body, sickness, wounds, basic mana flow, and occasionally the shape of a person’s soul if the caster knows what to look for."
Luka’s fingers slowly curled around the invisible oblivion.
’Then he knows.’
Levi lowered his voice, no longer speaking as steward to Lord, but as an old man watching a child who had returned wearing another man’s shadow.
"When your sickness worsened, I used it every night. I watched your body rot from within. I watched your mana collapse. I watched your soul flicker like a dying candle... until a certain night, shortly before your father passed."
"There was another voice, another shape... a great soul far beyond anything I could ever hope to analyse... just trying almost blinded this old fool for life. So... Lord Luka, I have but a simple question."
His eyes sharpened.
"So, can you tell exactly who you are now, ’Lord Luka’, because I know that sickness couldn’t be cured with such a simple excuse or miracle dicine, but please understand I do not wish to accuse or doubt you either."
Since Galatea, Luvia and Mildred returned to her tent quite so distance away, Luka could only raise his hands in defeat.
"Well done, human."
He spoke with the deep, elegant voice he’d been born with.
The mont he changed, Old Levi’s body shook, falling to his knees with both palms pressed on the floor.
"Ah.... it is.... it is you....?"
Though Luka didn’t know what he saw when using that spell to view Luka’s soul, it was highly likely he saw Lucifer’s true soul...
’To survive that, this old man... maybe he isn’t disposable after all.’
Luka exhaled slowly and crossed his legs as his lips curved upward with a smile.
"Well... since you wish to know, let tell you an old tale about the so-called Divine ones."
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