Chapter 108: Long Time No See, Holy King Norne
The breeze was still blowing on the hillside.
The sounds of celebration from the distant city could still be faintly heard. The elven miss sat alone on the grass, cradling a cold holy sword in her arms.
Her trembling shoulders betrayed the turmoil in her heart, a torrent of emotion that had been bottled up for thirty years. In the end, she couldn't watch any longer. She raised a hand and dispelled the magic mirror.
She got to her feet, holding Athos, and looked to the west, towards the Godfall Land, the place where he had last been seen.
She had made up her mind. If she still couldn't find him, she would erect a tombstone for him. It would be her own answer, a kind of compromise. She would visit it from time to time, and let the passage of time slowly dull her pain.
Just as she had thought when she had first met him, a thousand, or even ten thousand years from now, she would remember that, in the Age of Myth, a certain human had caused her thirty years of pain.
And then, she vanished from the hillside of star-gazing flowers, leaving no trace behind.
The day of revelry was over. The lively city had finally fallen into a weary slumber.
The moonlight was bright tonight. Even without a candle, Norne could see the path ahead. He dragged his heavy feet back to his room. The exquisite royal robes and crown were now a burden. He just wanted to take them off. And now that he could finally relax, a wave of exhaustion washed over him.
He pushed open the door. His royal chambers were dark, unlit, and far from opulent. People had advised him to take on more handmaidens. A king with less than ten attendants, what would people think? But he had refused. If not for the sake of basic etiquette, he wouldn't have wanted any at all.
He rubbed his temples and was about to close the door when he froze.
In the deepest, darkest corner of the room, a figure was standing silently by the window.
They were wearing a wide, black cloak that almost blended in with the night, their face obscured by a low-hanging hood. All he could tell was that they had a human-like form.
They were just standing there, as if they had been waiting for him.
A chill ran down his spine. A demon? Some demons had a human-like appearance. He had even fought one before on his adventures. And the aura of the figure before him was... not good. Their mana was chaotic, and tinged with the distinct dark energy of a demon. He couldn't help but think they were an assassin sent from the demons.
His body tensed, and his right hand instantly fell to the hilt of his sword, the instinct of a seasoned warrior overriding all his exhaustion. He held his breath, his sharp gaze fixed on the shadowed figure, waiting for an opening.
"Who are you?" he said, trying to identify them while keeping a close eye on their movements.
The figure moved slightly, almost imperceptibly.
And then, a familiar voice, a voice he thought he would never hear again, a voice that was now tinged with an indescribable hoarseness, spoke softly.
"Don't bow your head. The crown will fall."
That voice!?
His hand on his sword began to tremble so violently that he could barely hold on. The tension in his body washed away, replaced by a wave of incredible joy, and a sense of unreality.
He stared at the figure, and he could hear the pounding of his own heart.
"Rho... Rhodes?" His voice trembled, a sliver of hope in his tone. He took a step forward, his old face, twisted with emotion, now visible in the moonlight.
The figure raised a pale hand and, with a slow, deliberate motion, pushed back his hood.
In the moonlight, a familiar face appeared. The black hair was the same, and the face was unchanged from thirty years ago, as if time had stood still for him. Only his eyes, his dark eyes, held a沧桑 that did not match his youthful appearance.
It's really him! Rhodes!
"It really is you!"
He could no longer contain himself. A wave of joy washed over him, drowning out all reason. Forgetting his royal decorum, forgetting his exhaustion, he threw open his arms and, with an indescribable excitement, rushed forward to embrace the friend who had been gone for thirty years, the friend he had thought was dead.
But before he could reach him, Rhodes held up a hand to stop him.
"Wait, Norne," his voice was still soft. "This body... is very fragile."
Norne stopped in his tracks, his eyes fixed on Rhodes's outstretched hand. It was as pale as a ghost, and he could see that it was trembling, as if even that simple gesture was a great effort.
"Your body..."
The excitement in his heart was instantly extinguished, replaced by a deep concern. If his long-lost friend was just barely clinging to life, this was not the reunion he had hoped for.
He looked closer and saw that while his face was the same, his whole being radiated an ineffable fragility. His skin was so pale in the moonlight that it was almost translucent, and his breathing was so shallow that it seemed a strong gust of wind could knock him over.
Rhodes slowly lowered his hand and smiled wryly.
"I haven't had the time to properly create a new body with the authority over life I now hold," he said in a low voice, his gaze falling on Norne's royal robes and crown. "It seems you've done even better than I had expected, Your Majesty."
"Don't call me Your Majesty!" he said, his voice cracking. He took another step forward, but dared not touch him. "Where have you been all these years!? Miss Serie has been looking for you! We all thought you were..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Both he and Serie had already prepared themselves for the worst, even if they hadn't wanted to believe it.
Rhodes was silent for a moment, then he said, "The power of the Goddess of Procreation has a corrosive effect. That is why the Goddess of Life's body was taken over by her, even after she had been killed in the Godfall Land."
The god who had died there had been the Goddess of Procreation, Eges. That was the truth they had learned when they had gone to that place.
(End of Chapter)
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