Chapter 391: Chapter 152 This content originates from n0v3lbin•
Maxi snapped her head up. “This thing... spoke to you?”
Riftan remained silent, his eyes locked on the monstrous form sprawled on the ground. Sensing his hesitance, Maxi anxiously prodded, “What did it say?”
Kneeling to examine the creature’s limbs, Riftan sounded nonchalant when he spoke.
“It called me a sinner. Throughout our fight, it kept repeating something I didn’t understand. Maybe you can make sense of it.”
He recited the incantation, his brow furrowed. Goosebumps rippled over Maxi as she recognized the ancient Elvish.
Her gaze shifted nervously between her husband and the lifeless creature. Her voice shook as she said, “It was warning you... that you will pay for your sins.”
A wry smile tugged at the corners of Riftan’s mouth. Rising to his feet, he simply said, “I see.”
Maxi was taken aback by his composure. His life had been threatened by a mysterious monster, and yet he seemed almost amused. Had he not grasped the gravity of the situation?
“You need to take this more seriously!” Maxi blurted, her voice taut with tension. “That thing... it knew you were the Dragon Slayer.”
“Hardly surprising, considering all of Roviden has heard how I split Sektor’s skull,” he replied apathetically. “The monsters see me as the desecrator.”
Maxi looked at him in disbelief. He had already anticipated that the monsters of the Pamela Plateau might have a vendetta against him. She chastised herself for not considering that. After all, these monsters had worshiped the dragon. Of course they would seek vengeance on the man who had slain their idol.
A realization dawned on Maxi, then. Deep down, she still regarded the monsters as inferior. The church’s teachings — that these evil creatures were agents of blind destruction — clouded her judgment. It was a dangerous way to think, especially given the invasion three years ago and their current perilous situation.
“If the monsters manage to resurrect the dragon, they will come for Anatol first,” she said gravely.
“That will not happen,” Riftan said, his voice calm, “because we’re going to stop them.”
His unwavering confidence eased Maxi’s fears. He was right. The coalition army had been effectively thwarting the monsters’ plans. Victory was in sight, with only Vesmore Castle in Dristan left to reclaim.
Mirroring his composure, Maxi smiled. “You are right. We will stop them.”
On the first day of Midna’s liberation, the coalition army worked through the night to transport the dead. Normally, victorious soldiers would celebrate with feasts, liquor, and well-earned rest, but the looming threat of a necromancer turning their dead into reanimated horrors made it essential to prioritize funeral rites.
A total of a hundred and twenty-nine bodies were laid to rest in the cemetery behind the basilica and a vacant lot on the city’s west side. As soldiers attended to this grim task, the mages and medics busied themselves with treating the wounded. With three hundred soldiers injured in the brutal siege, there was a desperate shortage of healers and remedies.
Despite her exhaustion from her earlier mission, Maxi could not turn away from the agonized cries of the wounded. This time, not even Ruth tried to dissuade her from working throughout the night. Together, they set broken limbs, extracted arrows lodged in flesh and bone, and sutured wounds until dawn began to break. Finally, they collapsed onto cots in a corner of the infirmary to rest.
When Maxi awoke, it was well past noon. She blinked dazedly up at the sky outside the arched window for a moment before she managed to sit up, rubbing her throbbing temple.
“Go back to sleep,” came a voice.
“You are so lovely when you’re obedient,” he whispered teasingly.
Maxi shot him a mock glare. “I suppose that means... you find me insufferable when I’m not.”
“Well, you’re certainly less lovely then.”
Maxi slapped his shoulder, and Riftan gave a hearty laugh.
Kissing her cheek, he said, “Even in your least lovely state, your beauty exceeds that of every woman in the world. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
His words sent a blush creeping up Maxi’s cheeks, and her heart melted like butter under the blazing sun. How could he say such embarrassing sentiments so effortlessly?
Eyeing him skeptically, she murmured, “You rake.”
“That is slander.”
Snorting, Riftan picked up his knife to continue peeling chestnuts. Maxi scooted closer to rest her chin on his shoulder.
“Were you this attentive to all your past lovers as well?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Why do you assume 1 had past lovers?”
Riftan sounded baffled. Maxi stared at his perfectly sculpted face, glossy black hair, and deep ebony eyes as if asking how he could be so unaware of his own allure. She was not so naive to think that a man with such striking looks had never had a romantic partner.
“Y-You were twenty-five when we married, and you were knighted at eighteen... Given your status and your presence at court, it is a natural assumption you would have experience.”
Riftan opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly thinking that any argument would be futile.
Shoving a meticulously peeled chestnut into her mouth, he said gruffly, “Stop talking nonsense and eat.”
After hastily swallowing, Maxi shook his shoulders. “Don’t be like that. Just tell me how many lovers you’ve had.”
Riftan, who had been steadfastly focused on his task, turned his head to regard her with a searching look. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Have you ever held another man in your heart?” he asked as he bit into a slightly undercooked chestnut.
Caught off guard, Maxi stammered, “D-Do you mean before our marriage?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Should 1 be asking about both before and after?”
“D-Don’t be absurd!” Maxi retorted, scowling. “I-I have never engaged in unchaste behavior... neither before nor after our marriage!”
“My question was about your heart,” Riftan clarified, his expression unreadable. “Among the many men who visited Croyso Castle, there must have been one or two who caught your fancy..”