Droplets of sweat were falling from his cheek.
…Sweat…?
Soone like Ivan doesn’t sweat in the heat. Even during intense exercise, there’s no reason for sweat to pour down like that.
Only then did Elizaveta’s gaze land on Ivan’s face. His usual pleasantly pale cheeks looked even paler now.
Her voice beca serious.
“Lift your head.”
As Ivan raised his head, the signs of illness beca more apparent. His pale face, cold sweat, red bloodshot eyes, and slightly trembling chin were visible.
Elizaveta tried to say sothing but closed her mouth and hesitated. This was the first ti she’d seen him like this, and with trembling eyes, she could only scan Ivan’s body without daring to move.
At that mont, Dmitri spoke in a low voice next to her.
“He has taken ‘Final Argunt,’ Senior.”
“Um.”
Ivan nodded without looking at him. Only then did Elizaveta regain her senses and hurriedly glance at Dmitri.
“What is that?!”
“It is a cocktail made by mixing a highly toxic substance and an antagonist nad DX611, Your Majesty.”
“Why… why on earth did he—?!”
Elizaveta asked, turning pale as if she had swallowed the extre poison herself. Dmitri quietly bowed his head and replied.
“It is a last resort used when field agents face mages or demons that employ mind control during operations. It is not recomnded… and is hardly used in this day and age.”
“Why…? Why! Why would he take such a thing?!”
“Neural enhancent, ntal awakening, protection against spells that target the mind through pain… those are the reasons, Your Majesty.”
“What are the side effects?!”
“Seeing the fingertips stained with a purplish hue ans he hasn’t missed the timing or made a mistake in the dosage.”
Dmitri sighed as he looked at Ivan’s face.
The limbs would necrotize, and the drug’s hepatic toxicity would shatter his internal organs, but he had managed to halt the progression of the poison with the antagonist at the right mont.
He probably blocked all senses except for pain. Pain is necessary to awaken the mind. Perhaps he had left a faint sense of hearing. He was likely communicating through poison.
Foolish man.
Dmitri spoke quietly, tasting bitterness on his tongue.
“You will die this way, Senior. Please… take care of yourself.”
Ivan didn’t feel the need to respond. It was hard to find words as he watched the gaze of Elizaveta, which was covered with shock, fear, anger, pain, and finally sadness.
Elizaveta, who had jumped to her feet, lost her balance and crumpled.
“Your Majesty!!”
The officer rushed over to support her. Before he could reach her, Ivan wrapped his arms around her and steadied her.
He could feel her delicate body trembling in his embrace. The familiar scent, weight, and warmth.
Beneath him, her sorrowful eyes gazed straight up at him.
His face reflected clearly in her blue eyes. The face of a tired and worn man.
“Ranka, let’s go back.”
“…”
It was a voice almost pleading.
“Let’s go back. Together. There’s no need to go this far. You have… fulfilled all your desires. So… please.”
“Your Majesty.”
“Answer . I will not listen to anything else…!!”
Elizaveta clutched Ivan’s chest, buried her cheek in it, and sobbed.
Her heart soaked and beca damp.
“Your Majesty. There won’t be another chance if we don’t go now.”
“Why!! Is there no one else in this world who can fight but you? That is arrogance! Do you think you must save all the countries in this world on your own? If that’s the case, it would be better to perish! If the world is so incompetent, then rather!!”
“There are many who can replace , but I am the only one present here.”
“There are countless n for !! What is there to be afraid of!”
Wrong.
Ivan gently held Elizaveta’s shoulders and decided to use his last resort.
After all, prolonging this any longer was concerning. If we consider Larics’ intentions, war could start at any mont beyond that border.
Preparing troops and steadily vaporizing the enemy would be possible, given enough ti. They were currently no different than rats trapped in poison.
But that ti… there was no other resource as precious as that right now. And he had no intention of dying in this battle.
All the imdiate pain and injuries could be resolved. Thanks to Veolgrin, his body transcended human limits when facing ‘gods.’
In other words, if he could deliver a proper blow to Larics, it ant he could recover from all previous injuries at once. He could seize divine power.
So right now, there was no one more suited to face the Seven Dragon Lords than him.
“Elizé.”
The low, scratchy voice tickled her ears. Elizaveta flinched and trembled softly in his embrace.
“…Ranka.”
“Have I ever betrayed you?”
“You’re annoying… it’s loud.”
“If you believed until now, then believe once more. I will do what I need to do and co back for sure.”
“You’re loud. It’s annoying.”
Elizaveta whimpered in a small voice. After clutching his chest tightly and sobbing for a while, she finally lifted her ssy face.
“Even if… you cannot return alive, I… I have no thoughts of forming another family—”
She concluded her sentence with a tear-streaked face.
“Still, the Krasilov royal line will not be severed now. Whether you… return alive or not.”
“…What?”
She didn’t respond to Ivan’s question and swiftly turned away. She wiped her face clean with her hand and let out a deep breath.
There would be no royal lineage left in Krasilov.
Among the children born to Ivan the Great King, except for Kiril, all had fallen in battle…
Alexander was certainly dead… and aside from Elizaveta, there were no longer any mbers of the Krasilov royal family… at least within seven degrees of kinship.
Hmm.
Ivan stared blankly at Elizaveta. She was now looking sowhere with a clean face.
After catching a glimpse of the astonished Isabelle, Elizaveta smiled briefly in an instant before turning away.
With her back to Ivan, she asked the assembled dwarves.
“Is the work done?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. All placents have been completed.”
“I will not signal again. It’s fine to unleash all the gunpowder. Turn the sacred site into ruins.”
Elizaveta’s voice was the sa as usual. It was no longer the voice of a woman who had been whimpering in Ivan’s embrace; she had returned to being the monarch of a nation.
“They say God has forsaken us, Ranka.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
“If so, we will destroy the last evidence that we served God.”
Still turned away, Elizaveta solemnly concluded her words.
“Once the bombardnt is over, advance. I will ensure nothing hinders your path.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“…The command I just gave you is revoked. I revoke it, so co back alive.”
Without waiting for a response, Elizaveta strode ahead. Dmitri, following her, glanced back at Ivan, smiled slightly, and silently clapped.
With a voice barely audible to superhuman hearing, it seed he heard the words ‘I can’t raise it alone.’
After watching Elizaveta and her attendants disappear in an instant, Ivan turned his head.
“What? What do you want?”
Isabelle, with her chin tilted in annoyance, was glaring at him.
“…Hmm?”
“I don’t know, I’m annoyed. Whatever. When I need you, you only say ‘Well done,’ ‘Excellent,’ ‘You’ve grown well.’ What good is that? Seriously. I’m so dumbfounded and frustrated that I can’t even cry anymore. Really.”
After grumbling for a while, Isabelle let out a deep sigh.
“Let’s go. Let’s head to the battlefield! I’m so jealous of that virgin warrior! Seriously!”
She kept chattering away as they walked.
*
The veil of Larics twisted the colors even in broad daylight, saturating Ovidis with light filtered through a prism.
It was madness that was overwhelming for mortals to face. The frenzy brought by color. Just gazing at it from afar was the kind that would burn one’s optic nerves.
Once symbolizing only holiness, the church’s spires and arched dos were now infested with desecrators. Monsters resembling spiders skittered about, rattling as they moved.
They continuously saturated this city with their colors. Weaving threads to construct a veil, mimicking their holand.
The nest was nearing completion, like the distant forest. A great holand that no one in this world could dare approach was arriving here.
With every crossing of the weft and warp, the souls of humans seed to get entangled in each knot. The many souls of the faithful, pilgrims, and priests residing in Ovidis moaned as they hung in despair.
In overwhelming pleasure. They cried out, prayed, pleaded, and wept in all kinds of delights a human could feel for their gods.
It was a depiction of the saints made from color and line. A sacred painting completed by distorting sunlight and embroidering the sky.
Thus, Ovidis, the most sacred cathedral of this world, remained a tower still serving the god. The direction of faith had only changed ‘sowhat.’
-Yes, you were born to worship.
Larics laughed while being healed from the wounds inflicted by his children’s webs.
-Yet we were originally created to dominate.
Receiving the praises of the priests praying in ecstatic rapture, beneath the stained glass woven with life and being.
Larics cheerfully rose up—
-Ku-gu-gu-gu-gu….
Noticing the thunderous noise from beyond the mountains, he panicked.
-Dw… Dwarves…? Why are they here… Have they returned to conquer humans? Of all tis, now!
Caught in doubt while looking at the ancient artifacts of dwarves.
-Pi-i-i-i-ng….
Beyond the web, outside the nest, he saw the black trajectory filling the sky and let out a hollow laugh.
A black line was drawn across all the sky visible to his eyes.
A massive veil created by the will of mortals montarily shaped the night, covering the sky.
As the fleeting mont passed and Larics’ black eyes moved busily.
-Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa—
-Kwa-a-a-a-ang—!!!
The stained glass was torn away, and the midday sun finally revealed Ovidis’s true face.
EP37. Stained Glass.
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