As soon as the words escaped my lips, Enma tapped me on the head with her celestial finger. The world around me turned into a haze as my mind filled with different colors. I slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.
The image of my grandmother came to mind. My chest tighten as the memories of the robber's assault replayed in my mind over and over. The blood, the thud of her collapsing, everything felt so real.
My eyes shot open from the memory and I found myself lying on dirt soil. An indescribable pain burst from my head, and I felt a warm liquid trail down my face.
The bright red liquid fell on the ground, smearing it in its redness. That was when I realized I was bleeding. I brought my hand up to my face to check my wounds, and I was shocked by the sight. The hand that hovered over my face wasn't the hand of a 16-year-old boy; they were the hands of a small child.
"These hands…" I muttered, then quickly covered my mouth.
The words that escaped my lips weren't in English. It was a strange language that somehow felt familiar to me, one that I somehow understood. As I stared at the blood on my fingers, a sharp headache caused me to fall back onto the ground.
It felt as if my mind was being ripped apart from the inside while my eyes burned as if someone had poured magma into them. I screamed at the top of my lungs, begging for the agony to end.
[Installing... Eyes of the first demon King]
I reeled around on the ground until the pain finally subsided.
[Installation complete. Enjoy your new life, may we meet again. My sweet child~]
Enma's voice echoed in my mind like a fleeting dream. My eyes burned with a warmth as I recalled everything that happened.
"My new life," I muttered.
Suddenly, a loud, blood-curdling roar erupted above me.
"Prince Percival!!"
There was a huge wall behind me. It looked like a wall encircling a city or kingdom. On top of the wall stood a handsome man with long brown hair that fell onto his shoulders. Looking at him, I couldn't help but notice that his attire looked awfully familiar to that of a knight.
He was dressed in golden-plated armor that reflected the sunlight in a way that made it sparkle. He also wore a silver cape that flapped in the wind behind him making him look like some kind of superhero.
"A cosplayer," I thought at first.
Throwing caution to the wind, the man in golden armor climbed atop the wall and walked toward the edge with haste. Without any hesitation, he jumped from the wall. Anyone would have died from such a height; coupled with the fact that he was wearing armor, he should've looked like roadkill.
But instead, he landed gracefully on the ground as if his body were as light as a feather. He barely made a dent in the dirt when his feet hit the ground.
"Prince Percival, are you alright?"
The knight scooped me up off the ground within seconds of landing. He looked worried about me, perhaps because of the wound on my head.
"My prince, don't worry; I'll find you a priest who can heal you."
The knight took off in a sprint, carrying me like a damsel in distress. My mind was hazy as he carried me off, and before I knew it, I was in a room surrounded by old men dressed in white robes.
They probed me and whispered in hush voices before the knight laid me down on a cold slab of stone, which I heard them refer to as an altar. The knight stayed by my side, holding my hand as the priests ran off somewhere. When the priests returned, they were accompanied by another man.
This man seemed much younger than them, maybe in his early thirties. He had golden hair and wore a white silk robe. I felt a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach when I saw him, and something told me he was off.
He wore a blank expression on his face as he marched over to me. An invisible pressure bore down on me as he made his way closer. He stood over me with a silent, scrutinizing gaze before placing his hand over my head.
Immediately, glowing runes and symbols began to form above my head. My eyes widened at the sight and a warmth emanated in them. The symbol curved into what looked like a cross with curved lines. A warm sensation enveloped my head as the pain slowly subsided.
"Okay, that's it. The prince's wounds have been healed," the priest finally said when he was done. The runes and symbols disappeared as soon as he moved his hand away.
The knight turned to him and got on his knees with his head bowed.
"Thank you, High Priest Alarion. The royal family will be in your debt; I'll make sure the king hears of your good deeds today."
Alarion? Something told me that I should remember that name.
The priest bowed his head and smiled at the knight, who was humbling himself before him. The priest reached out his hand and guided the knight to his feet.
"No need to thank me. The Church of Light is here to serve all," the priest smiled. "Stay with the prince; I'll go send a messenger to fetch the royal family."
The knight bowed, then turned to me and grabbed hold of my hand.
"Prince Percival, how are you feeling?"
I stared at him, confused and unsure of what to say. The worry on his face deepened as he glanced back at the priest.
"He may be a little disoriented by what happened. Head injuries are serious, and sometimes we aren't able to fully heal everything," the priest commented, then knelt down beside me. "My prince, do you know where you are? Do you recognize us?"
I shook my head, which caused the knight to tighten his grip on my hand.
"What does this mean?" the knight asked.
"He may be suffering from memory loss."
BAM!!
Just then, the door was pushed open with a loud bang. More knights stepped in, wearing golden armor. Behind them was a woman. A beautiful woman with long brown hair that flowed down to her waist.
Her face was pale, almost sickly, as she limped toward me.
"My baby!" she screamed with a ragged breath. The knights rushed to catch her before she fell.
"Queen Livia," the knight kneeling in front of me shouted. "Your grace, you shouldn't be out of bed."
"My child, how is he?" she asked frantically as the knights behind her helped her back up to her feet.
The silver-cloaked knight bowed his head in shame.
"He seems to be suffering from memory loss, your grace," the priest answered. "But other than that, he seems fine."
The knight stepped aside, and the woman took his place, kneeling beside the cold slab of stone I was lying on. She rubbed her hand through my hair.
"Do you remember me?" she asked.
Memory loss was a convenient excuse for me to use, seeing as I didn't have any memory of anyone. So, I shook my head.
The woman's pale face soon grew even paler as she turned toward the knight with a sort of bloodlust in her eyes.
"How did this happen?"
"Your grace, it was my fault. The young prince wanted to take a look around the barracks, but I lost sight of him. He must have climbed the walls to get a better look when he fell," the knight explained. "I accept any punishment your grace sees fit to give me. I will die for my crimes if need be."
The woman sighed. She seemed to have calmed down a bit as the silver-cloaked knight spoke. She then approached the kneeling knight.
"Dunken, you are one of the best knights in the capital. Every man in this kingdom knows your loyalty to the crown. I know you must have done your very best to protect my son. Let's just thank the gods that he is fine."
The knight looked uneasy.
"Your grace, I don't deserve—"
"Make up for it by protecting my son better next time," the woman cut him off before he could protest further.
The knight named Dunken clenched his fist as if he had found his conviction.
"I will, Your grace."
When the matter with the knight was settled, the woman returned her attention to me. She kissed me on the forehead and wrapped her arms tightly around me. I could feel her warmth and hear the pounding of her heart.
This was the first time I'd been hugged by someone other than my grandmother, and for some reason, it felt good.
"My son."