Chapter 49

“Bold words.” Lars was a mere human, yet he’d addressed the high-ranking demon—beings that were often labelled as gods—with astonishing bravado. The absurdity of the situation made Elzard laugh. He rose to his feet in a single fluid motion. “You won’t need to go searching for her. Just wait there—though you’ll be a lump of flesh by the time she arrives.” The king simply responded to Elzard’s death threat with an arrogant look. He showed no hesitation as he drew closer to the demon, his sword still lowered. His attitude made Elzard want to click his tongue disapprovingly. “I should at least warn you… I’m stronger than Aviella,” Elzard said. “So what?” Lars readied his sword, his expression unchanged. His blue eyes, a distinguishing trait of the Farsasian royal family, shimmered with defiance. “If you’re the strongest, then it makes sense for me to be your opponent. Come. I’ll show you what it means to die.” The cold breeze was laden with an oppressive heaviness. Countless wings could be heard beating outside the window. Nonetheless, that loathsome noise failed to infiltrate the throne room. Only a razor-sharp tension hung in the air. “…You lowly human.” Elzard formulated a spell without an incantation and it lit up at his fingertips. He gazed at the human king through the pale-blue light he’d created. He was unable to envision any kind of future. He couldn’t grasp the concept of time changing. Which was why he couldn’t even entertain the thought of his own defeat as he unleashed that bolt of lightning, hoping to strike down that fragile life. It had happened over ten years earlier. She’d loved reading books. They contained such vast worlds. Stories of distant lands and bygone times were encapsulated in books with various bindings, squeezed into the lines of text that adorned their pages.