Why Did You Mess With Him? He’s the Evil God’s Lackey! Chapter 26

Chapter 26: I am Not The God of dicine

To everyone's relief, the volcano had not erupted.

A villager stood rooted to the spot, quietly watching the heavy raindrops falling over Sanchez.

"The volcano.....didn't erupt...."

"Thank goodness! It didn't erupt!"

From sowhere deep within the crowd, a jubilant cry rang out, and in an instant, it ignited the emotions of every villager around.

"Thank goodness! There's no disaster!"

"Oh heavens! Oh heavens! The gods have blessed us!"

"No, no, no! It was the Mages from the Royal Capital who saved us!"

This rain had co like a miracle, wiping away every trace of danger.

The Mages and Knights who trickled back to Sanchez one by one let the tension ease from their furrowed brows—but their hearts did not ease along with it. If anything, they felt an unbearable heaviness.

Every person was silent, moving like marionettes on strings.

The townspeople, blissfully unaware of the truth, erged from the safety zones and returned to their town, offering their gratitude to these "heroes" who had supposedly saved them.

And yet not a single Mage could face them and proudly say "don't ntion it."

They had not saved these innocent residents. In fact, they themselves had very nearly perished on that volcano.

Yes. It had been that close.

The great Magic Formation had ultimately never been released.

If the volcano had erupted completely in that mont—

Every Mage dispatched from the Royal Capital would have been buried beneath that world-ending torrent of lava.

In the rain, the residents gradually returned to their hos.

The army began transporting the Mages back to the Royal Capital in shifts. Duke Livi stood in the downpour, letting the storm beat against his face.

Until the last group of Mages had departed, Count Beck glanced over at Duke Livi from a distance and gave a slow shake of his head.

"Farewell, Duke."

He had to force those final words out of himself. There was unmistakable displeasure in his tone, and even the hand gripping his walking cane was unsteady.

"Duke Livi, I understand your love for your daughter."

"But before you act recklessly, I ask that you consider your position."

"When you return to the Royal Capital this ti, you may face impeachnt from many ministers. I trust you know what to do with yourself."

With that, the noble Mage boarded his Carriage and departed under military escort.

From beginning to end, Duke Livi had not once lifted his head to respond.

The Knights around him worried that Duke Livi would fall ill standing in the rain—after all, a Mage's body was nowhere near as hardy as a Knight's.

So one of them spoke up:

"My Lord Duke, please board the Carriage and wait inside. Knight Commander Gwen is searching for your daughter."

Duke Livi did not respond. He stood in the wind and rain for a long, long ti without answering.

His eyes were blank and hollow.

Then, through the stormy darkness of the night sky, a silver-white figure suddenly appeared—like a dawn breaking through the dark of night.

In her arms was the golden-haired girl.

Duke Livi saw her. In an instant, the light of sothing called hope rekindled in his eyes.

Gwen brought Erika to Duke Livi and placed her in his care.

"Mission accomplished, My Lord Duke."

Duke Livi's trembling hands reached out to receive Erika, pulling her into his arms, his eyes filled with shock and anguish.

"Erika, Erika......."

It seed that his soft calls had roused Erika. She slowly lifted her eyelids, saw the face of her most beloved father, and managed to pull out a faint smile.

"Dad, I'm back."

In that mont, this man—one of the most powerful and influential figures in the Kingdom of Carencia—wept.

He had once stood tall enough to prop up the sky, and yet he had failed to protect his own daughter.

He was overco with sha.

Duke Livi held his daughter tightly—and what he received in return was a low whimper of pain from her.

Only then did he notice the nurous burn injuries covering Erika's body. In his panic, he tried to treat her with magic, but with little effect.

Not every Mage was as abnormal as Viktor, having studied hundreds of spells and wielded them all with extraordinary mastery.

Duke Livi's healing magic could only nd minor wounds. Before injuries as severe as his daughter's burns, he was completely powerless.

He looked around urgently, searching for a Mage with expertise in healing—but around him, aside from the Knight Company standing by at the ready, there was not a single Mage left.

Watching Duke Livi's anxious expression, Gwen hesitated for a mont, then reached into her coat and produced a crimson potion.

The potion looked almost like blood—red deepening to black, emanating a faint, quiet glow.

It was the healing potion Viktor had given her, though she had never once used it.

She had no idea what its effects were like.

But if Erika wasn't treated promptly, the injuries covering her body could leave permanent damage.

It was worth gambling on.

She steeled herself. In this mont, Gwen chose to trust that Viktor would not deceive her.

"My Lord Duke, perhaps try this."

"If anything goes wrong, I will bear full responsibility."

Gwen held out the potion. Duke Livi took it urgently, and then paused when he saw its color.

A potion the sa color as blood—could this truly be drunk?

But there was no other option now. Erika's injuries could not afford any more delay.

He pulled out the stopper, gently brought it to Erika's lips, and asked offhandedly:

"This potion of yours.....where did it co from?"

"It was......given to by my fiancé."

The potion tipped past Erika's lips and flowed in. Duke Livi's hand gave the faintest tremor.

Gwen Delin's fiancé?

"Viktor Clavena?"

"Yes."

Gwen lowered her head slightly, a trace of embarrassnt in her manner. She was aware of the friction between the Duke and Viktor—but right now was absolutely not the ti to let that get in the way.

And then, a miracle happened.

The mont Erika drank the potion, it was as though she had been touched by the grace of the Goddess of Healing.

The burns on her body began to recover at a visible speed before their very eyes.

It was as though new flesh was growing to replace what had been lost, her skin returning to its forr smooth and flawless state.

Duke Livi was completely stunned.

First the blue Magic Potion, and now a crimson recovery potion.....

How was this terrifying effect even possible?

Gwen's eyes went equally wide, staring at the scene unfolding before her in astonishnt.

She had never used that potion before—she had never imagined its effect could be this staggering.

With a recovery ability this extraordinary, even soone who had lost half their life could probably co back from it.

However, even as her injuries healed, Erika did not open her eyes.

Her spirit was completely drained. The fact that she had managed to wake once in the Duke's arms was already a miracle in itself.

The mont the pain faded away, she was finally able to sink into a peaceful, deep slumber.

Duke Livi carried Erika onto the Carriage with his own hands to let her rest. When he ca back out, he gave Gwen a deep, formal bow.

"My heartfelt gratitude, Knight Commander Gwen."

"Please allow to properly thank you once we return to the Royal Capital—and naturally, your fiancé as well."

Hearing the Duke's words, Gwen was montarily caught off guard.

She watched the now-composed Duke Livi board his Carriage, the wheels beginning to roll as it slowly departed alongside the surrounding army.

Gwen drew a long, slow breath, then turned her head and looked at the White Horse standing alone in the stable with no one to claim it.

It was still quietly grazing at the Waystation, completely unaware that Viktor, who had ridden it here, had already vanished.

Viktor, where on earth have you gone?

The heavy rain showed no sign of stopping. She put on her helt to shield herself from the wind and rain, then swung herself up onto her horse.

Before leaving, she took one last look at that solitary White Horse.

If you still have a conscience—if you still rember —then ride that horse and co find .

It won't die. At least not before it sees again.

She turned her horse around and led the Knight Company behind her forward into the rain.

After a chorus of clanging armor and hooves splashing through the muddy ground, Sanchez returned to quiet.

***

After being washed clean by the downpour, shafts of pale light broke through the overcast, and the sky cleared.

Within a few days, the residents of Sanchez had returned to their ordinary everyday lives.

It was as though everyone had forgotten those terrifying days just prior.

And yet the entrance to the Waystation was far from peaceful.

"Hey, that White Horse is a real beauty—hand it over to your old man here, what do you say?"

A thick, heavyset man stood in front of the Waystation, glaring with nacing eyes at the Waystation's caretaker.

They had had their eyes on that White Horse for days. Several days had passed and no one had co to claim it, so they had concluded the horse was ownerless.

But the caretaker was stubborn, refusing entirely to yield to their overbearing demands:

"A Knight paid a very large sum and asked us to look after this horse carefully."

The big man let out a booming laugh. "Those Royal Capital people left 4 or 5 days ago—this horse has been abandoned."

"Exactly, exactly! Our boss definitely read this right!"

The lackeys crowding around him chid in eagerly.

"If you pay more than she did, I'll agree."

The caretaker made his counter-offer, looking at the rowdy troublemakers with undisguised contempt.

The big man and his crew exchanged glances. "How much did she pay?"

"This much."

The caretaker held up a single open hand in front of them.

"Fifty? Hahahaha! I'll pay a hundred!"

The caretaker shook his head. The big man hesitated, then pressed further:

"Five hundred?"

The caretaker said nothing and kept staring them down.

"It was 5,000."

The mont that number left his mouth, the big n erupted in fury.

"What the hell! You want 5,000 Geo for one damn horse!?"

"Are you trying to rip us off!?"

With that, sleeves were rolled up and a fist swung—the caretaker threw both hands up in front of his face and stumbled backward.

The fist never landed on him. Instead, he heard a howl of pain.

He lowered his hands. His eyes went wide with disbelief.

There before him, an enormous hand encased in lava had lifted the ringleader clean off the ground.

The big man shot up into the air, completely dumbfounded.

He didn't even know what had happened.

The lackeys were seized with terror. They traced the enormous hand upward, and at its far end stood a man dressed in a Coat.

Perched on his shoulder was a peculiar One-eyed Crow, chattering away.

Behind him, an arm that appeared to be forged from lava extended outward.

Across the black Coat ran streaks of red markings, within which lava seed to flow without end.

"That's my horse. Do you have a problem with that?"