The hunt was set to take place four months from now.
Invitations were already being sent to every corner of Eldoria, each one gilded and sealed with the Archduke's sigil. It was a grand announcement of his intent to celebrate his union with his lover and newlywed husband.
It was already the talk of every household, from the humblest peasant hovel to the grandest ducal estate.
The northern devil, Darkhelm, had married a divine healer, and on the very day His Majesty died.
Xion's reputation, once nothing more than the little bastard, had transformed into that of a divine healer. That had only poured the fuel into the fire of excitement for the ones who received the letters.
After all, who wouldn't want ties to someone rumored to bring even the dying back from death's door?
That was one reason for all this eagerness, of course, but not the only reason.
The other was His Grace, Darius Rael Darkhelm himself.
