Chapter 543: 21. Shadow of the Demon
“Ugh, husband.”
Hearing the delicate voice of Ingrid in front of him, Fischer had no intention of enjoying the moment. Beside him, Raphael and Jasmine were on the verge of exploding, and he felt as if there were thorns in his back, wishing he could throw this person in front of him into the sea.
In just a few seconds, the situation escalated rapidly. The first thought that crossed his mind was whether this person was willing to risk life and reputation for the sake of a so-called news story, but upon closer reflection, that didn’t quite add up.
If she was still just an intern reporter from the Great Serpent News Agency who came for the sake of news, where did she acquire such a ship full of treasures? These items didn’t seem like something an intern could possess.
With that thought, Fischer gritted his teeth and suddenly grabbed her shoulders, carefully controlling his strength, trying not to harm this human girl with zero rank in front of him. He gently pushed her away, maintaining a calm voice while looking at Ingrid seriously, and said, “Are you crazy?”
Fischer wasn’t sure how great the gap was between mythical ranks and ordinary humans; he could only describe it through the occasional shocking realization of how fragile humans were. Just a moment ago, when Ingrid ran towards him, Fischer instinctively raised his hand to push her away, but doing so would likely have made her bleed and even put her life at risk.
Now, the situation was even more intense. Fischer asked, and he instantly felt Ingrid shiver in front of him. Under his scrutiny, her body became tense, and in the same way she had felt earlier when close to him, she instinctively sensed the gap between her and a mythical being, resisting the urge to approach him like a drowning person.
But why did she have to do this now?
Seeing this, Fischer couldn’t help but be slightly taken aback. He wanted to know the answer from Ingrid, but he saw her fear mixed with a frail expression as she tearfully said, “Husband, wh-what’s wrong?”
“You’re in a—”
“Husband, please don’t say anything more. I’ll behave afterward, so please don’t abandon me, okay?”
But just as Fischer was about to ask, he noticed Ingrid’s face turn pale, and she looked at him with a pleading gaze.
She was still gradually inching closer to Fischer, but it seemed like she was intentionally revealing the neck concealed beneath her lady’s hat and long veil.
Fischer glanced down and saw a strange circular symbol faintly glowing on her neck. That symbol carried a sense of mystery; the moment he spotted it, it was as if he saw a pillar of fire shooting up into the sky, followed by an arrow glowing with light flying directly into his vision.
“Boom!”
The arrow caused no harm; it merely whispered a name abruptly into Fischer’s mind.
“Barbatos.”
That name seemed to appear directly in front of his soul, unnoticed by anyone else nearby.
But that wasn’t the critical part; the crucial part was when that mark manifested before him, Fischer suddenly realized a similar mark had appeared on his chest at some point, and it was strikingly similar to the mark on the back of Ingrid’s neck.
However, unlike her mark, the one on Fischer’s chest appeared darker, with a more vivid symbol, and perhaps represented a different meaning. Additionally, the mark on his chest seemed to have undergone a violent alteration.
Beneath the current mark, a similarly dark symbol was erased, and the new mark boldly stood on the remnants of what had been wiped away, carrying a strong chaotic aura that proclaimed its existence. That too was a name:
“Baemon.”
Fischer’s heart trembled; in just one second of real-time, he felt as if he had discovered many secrets never revealed to outsiders.
Baemon?
Hela?
When did she leave a mark on him?
Was it during the Holy Realm, or at some earlier time?
And why did she leave a mark on him?
That question was set aside; just by seeing the mark on Ingrid’s neck, he could surmise that the demon lord Barbatos was targeting the intern reporter Ingrid.
In other words, the claim that she was his wife for the past four years, allowing her to enter the Dragon Court, was likely taught to her by those demons, and as a human, she obviously could not resist, only able to comply with this path.
Yet from another perspective, since Barbatos knew that claiming to be his wife would bring him trouble, it indicated they had a certain understanding of his situation.
But why would they pay attention to him? Fischer felt it lacked logic; only Hela, who had entangled with him thousands of years ago, could be aware of him, and it just so happened she wasn’t a demon, which allowed her to avoid the Mother’s confinement.
Could it be that everything, including the current infiltration of the Nali army by demons, and the troubles at hand were all orchestrated by Hela?
Recalling Emhart’s warning, even though his feelings for Hela were strong, he couldn’t help but consider this possibility.
The next second, he didn’t speak further; he gently released Ingrid, who had become limp, allowing her to step back a few steps, promptly caught by the two maids who had followed her.
“Sir, how could you treat the young lady this way? She is your lawful wife after all! It’s one thing to fool around with those subhumans outside, but at least you need to come home and inform her, right? The young lady chased us all the way here, and we couldn’t stop her. It’s just…”
The originally expressionless maid suddenly became animated, patting Ingrid on the back, who appeared scared, while she complained to Fischer.
As she gently supported Ingrid’s back, Fischer immediately felt Ingrid’s body relax upon their contact, followed by Ingrid’s face turning rosy, as the fear and pleading directed at Fischer vanished, replaced by a dreamy illusion. Her coerced act became more convincing.
“Ugh…”
Fischer’s eyes narrowed. Having interacted with Eil, he knew full well what had transpired when that maid had touched Ingrid.
She was siphoning off Ingrid’s Fallen Nature!
These two maids were demons—no, they should be Demon Attendants.
“Fooling around? Lawful wife?”
Upon hearing the maid’s words, Raphael let out a cold laugh, and a blood-colored spear shot into his hand with a “hum.” In an instant, the temperature in the entire tent rose several degrees, causing the expressions of the two maids to shift slightly.
“Don’t forget whose land you’re on! Are you looking for death?”
“Wait, Raphael, I feel like something’s off. Besides, Teacher Fischer hasn’t even married you yet; how could he possibly marry someone else?” Jasmine said, pursing her lips, trying to mediate.
Fischer’s body stiffened slightly, the image of Valentina involuntarily surfacing in his mind, but he desperately ignored it.
In fact, Jasmine always felt there was something indescribable about the relationship between Ingrid and Fischer, as if it weren’t as intimate as it appeared.
She wasn’t foolish; on the contrary, her observational skills were keen and delicate, though her thoughts were not easily expressed in ordinary routines.
Jasmine, unlike Raphael, did not easily become fiery. Even when emotions surged, she kept her composure.
She certainly knew what it was like when Fischer had a relationship with a lady.
She recalled how, back in Saint Nali, even with Elizabeth—who had long been separated from Fischer—the atmosphere between them remained ambiguous, filled with mutual understanding. Not to mention Renee, Raphael, and the likes.
But right now, Ingrid seemed to lack any signs of such a connection with Fischer.
Prior to this, she expected a powerful enemy, which caused both her and Raphael to prepare for battle.
But looking at her now, this was it?
Hearing Jasmine’s words of persuasion, Raphael’s frown eased slightly. She also sensed something was amiss but wasn’t as certain as Jasmine, so she cast a glance at Fischer, wanting to gauge his reaction.
When she saw his serious face, completely devoid of panic, guilt, or conflict, a stone in her heart fell away instantly.
It appeared that she truly wasn’t his wife; he wasn’t married yet, and the position of the wife belonged to her.
As her lips curled slightly, the shadow of Jasmine beside her lingered, causing her mood to plummet once more. She redirected her attention back to this “wife of Fischer.”
Upon hearing Jasmine’s inquiry, the maid responded with a cold laugh.
“Our young master and our lady are in a free relationship. If he doesn’t marry her, does that mean he must marry you? All these four years, he has been with our lady. Has he appeared anywhere else? Right, Lady?”
“Ugh…”
Ingrid nodded vigorously, appearing pitiful and small, not daring to make any other move.
But Fischer raised his hand, interrupting what Raphael was about to say. He directly asked Ingrid, “So you came here to…?”
“Of course, we came to take our young master home; he shouldn’t remain in the Dragon Court any longer.”
“Ugh!”
The maid spoke up, and Ingrid nodded along.
In other words, Barbatos or the demon kind behind him didn’t want him involved in this?
Ingrid had been someone who entered the factory with him; the mythical being who had stopped him from leaving was probably that demon duke Barbatos, which is why he used Ingrid to tell him not to assist the Red Dragon Court?
But with Raphael and Jasmine here, he couldn’t simply abandon this situation.
Moreover, Saint Nali was his homeland, and their Empress, Elizabeth, was related to him; now that her army was infiltrated like this, it was hard to imagine the demons’ motives and her current condition.
“What if I say no?”
“Ah, if our young master insists, then we…”
Just as the maid was about to continue, Fischer looked at Ingrid, who was still being held by the maids, interrupting their discourse and directly asking, “Which one?”
“Ugh…”
Ingrid was slightly stunned, then suddenly realized something. Her eyes widened, and her head tilted backward, pointing at this “maid” behind her.
“Ugh ugh ugh!”
Fischer’s gaze sharpened, and in an instant, he reached out and snatched the spear from Raphael’s hand. She was taken aback, but upon seeing Fischer’s cold expression, she immediately released the spear, keeping its form intact.
“Sir—”
Seeing Fischer grip the spear, the maid seemed to sense something was off and was about to speak, but the crimson spear came hurtling towards her with a thunderous sound like a comet.
“Ah!!”
Ingrid’s rosy face turned pale as she tightly closed her eyes, feeling the air and wind around her crashing down, as if Fischer aimed to send her back to hell with a single throw.
As a human, she could only scream helplessly and purely!
But ultimately, the spear wasn’t aimed at her; it was directed at the demon behind her.
In the next moment, before the maid could react, Fischer hurled the spear with the power of a mythical rank, causing it to pierce straight through her head, severing the appendage connecting Ingrid to her—no, rather, it should be described as a tentacle that resembled an arrowhead.
“Boom!”
The whole tent was blown away, the maid’s headless corpse stumbling twice before collapsing to the ground, blood like lava seeping from her maid’s uniform.
The other maid, witnessing this, extended a long, horrifying tail that slithered out, her face twisting grotesquely. A pair of goat-like horns slowly sprouted from her head.
“You dare defy the duke’s wishes! You…”
Raphael furrowed his brows and summoned the crimson spear that had flown away, smashing the maid’s head before returning it to her hands.
Glancing at the two headless non-human corpses, Raphael couldn’t help but doubt, “Is this also a demon kind? Why does it seem so weak? It’s completely different from that Barbatos earlier.”
Jasmine shook her head. If Lord Ramastia were here, she might have known the answer, but unfortunately, he left her side four and a half years ago, and she was unsure if he had returned to the underwater region for an urgent matter, as he hadn’t come back since. Everything had to be dealt with by Jasmine alone.
Meanwhile, Ingrid collapsed weakly to the ground, drenched in cold sweat. Covering her chest, she gasped, expressing gratitude to the goddess of fortune.
“Mother… Mother, thank you for protecting me… I’m still alive.”
Ingrid knelt on the ground, face filled with despair. Fischer hurried over to her, not making physical contact. Instead, he turned to introduce Ingrid to Raphael and the others.
“This is Ingrid, a reporter from Shivali. Before I came to the Red Dragon Court, she served as my temporary guide. We entered a factory in Nali, and unexpectedly caught the attention of that Barbatos.”
“I see.”
Raphael stepped forward, observing the human who resembled a small chick, quickly losing interest. Her attention shifted to the soldiers from the Dragon Court rushing over in the distance, feeling a headache rising.
On the other hand, Jasmine, being insightful, noticed the heaps of gold and treasures scattered throughout the tent and couldn’t help but ask Fischer, “But if it was just a messenger sent from the false court, why bring so much treasure?”
It was this sentence that promptly jolted Ingrid back into awareness.
Her pupils constricted, and she quickly lifted her head, urgently speaking to Fischer.
“Fischer! There was another strange person on that ship, originally with these two, but… but she was killed by them, and her blood and flesh were smeared on those things. I… I don’t know why, but…”
“Buzz!”
In the next instant, Ingrid’s words were abruptly cut off as a circular symbol on her neck suddenly illuminated.
Behind her, the headless maid’s body twitched as if reanimated, and a blood-meat face sprouted from the maid’s corpse, looking grotesque and devoid of discernible expression, its jagged mouth continuously spewing filthy words.
“Ah, my young master, we carry the blessing of Duke Agares. Since you have rejected the duke’s wishes, we will have to leave the lady and the treasures here.”
“Caw caw!”
With her words, a large bird, resembling both an eagle and a crow, soared above; it didn’t land but dropped a small object that was smaller than anything imaginable.
Fischer looked up, realizing it was a severed finger.
“Fischer! Fischer! Quickly make the others retreat!!”
At this moment, while Fischer was still confused, faster than the soldiers from the Dragon Court arriving, a square, rotating book appeared. It was Emhart—presumably adopting such a comical method to expedite his movements.
“They are summoning a demon god; quickly, make the others retreat!”
Fischer turned around, and as the severed finger fell, Ingrid, the two headless demon corpses, and the treasures began emitting a bloody glow.
The ground along the coast began to tremble, as if something below was fiercely trying to break through the surface, surging with heat and restlessness.
Although he didn’t yet understand what it was, a shape resembling a fire pillar manifested in the minds of Fischer and everyone present, and they became entirely certain that something was violently impacting the ground below—a fire pillar, or an existence?
Before Emhart even landed, Fischer looked at the agonized Ingrid before him. The scorching mark on her back had embedded itself into her flesh like a branding iron, akin to a divine offering.
“Raphael, stop your soldiers from approaching; I’ll put an end to this.”
“Fischer!”
Jasmine wanted to move, but the surrounding treasures slowly “melted” into a pool of blood, awakening painful memories she was unwilling to confront from deep within her mind.
In the depths of Nali Lake, the deranged Blake with Muxi on his chest.
No.
Why did it feel so similar?
Jasmine’s face paled, and she froze in place.
Raphael noticed her sister standing stiffly beside her and gritted her teeth, glancing back at Fischer, who was rushing towards Ingrid, and could only pull Jasmine away first.
She could sense the gap in power with the mythical rank and wouldn’t foolishly add to Fischer’s troubles.
The entire Red Dragon Court felt the ominous phenomenon occurring at that moment, but only the approaching soldiers could truly face the chilling sensation.
Disregarding everything, Emhart soared into the spreading sea of blood, landing on Fischer’s shoulder, both of them gazing at the mark on Ingrid’s neck that had completely turned blood-red.
“Fischer! This is a mark of the demons; it has fully embedded itself! Unless—”
“Unless it can be removed from the soul.”
“Can you do it? This technique concerning the soul is something even the Holy Spawn and those elves don’t fully understand; in the past, it was only demons who…”
“No, I can do it.”
Fischer took a deep breath, looking at his hands. This statement wasn’t empty; it was based on the fact that he had genuinely read the “Soul Supplement Handbook.”
Although he had never intended to use that knowledge, fully aware it could lead him to madness, he had no choice now—it was essential for him to protect Raphael and the others.
So, he resolved to familiarize himself with the knowledge recorded therein starting now?
He was also unclear, for it was he who, standing in the sea of blood, took action quicker than his thoughts.
The whisperings he had suppressed began flooding into his ears like water to a drowning person, and his form altered; the human shape he had maintained now seemed merely a subjective preference. At this moment, amid the chaotic utilization of soul power, he could no longer maintain any semblance of elegance.
Even Emhart on his shoulder felt the surging blood and soul within Fischer, and more terrifyingly, was the phantom-like hands resembling a mass of mouths.
“Fischer, are you about to consume her soul?!”
“Shut up! I’m only consuming the mark on her soul!”
Fischer gritted his teeth, enduring the fatal temptation from the being known as “Jahl Uzz,” desperately controlling his hand—or rather, merging with the soul entwined with it, grotesquely swallowing the mark attached to Ingrid’s soul.
“Boom!”
The blood sea pouring from the ground momentarily paused, and both Raphael and Jasmine, who were retreating, were astonished, gazing at the gradually quieting phenomenon and the untouched Ingrid and Fischer. Their hearts lifted in joy.
“Fischer!”
It was that very joy that made Raphael, who was worried about her beloved, fail to notice the tremor that suddenly arose from her spear and the depths of her soul, as it experienced a moment of dread for the one known as “Fischer.”
(End of Chapter)
