#70
“Hereis!”
Jeha cried out, his voice sharp with urgency. Hereis swiftly shielded Jeha with his own body, his vivid blue eyes flashing with a predatory gleam.
****
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
A sound, like the night sky itself being torn asunder, echoed, and then, with a jarring *thunk*, a thick, stubby arrow shaft slammed into the carriage’s interior. Before they could even fully process it, a torrent of arrows began to rain down upon their vehicle with terrifying speed.
*Thunk! Thunk-thunk! Thunk!*
Relentlessly, the arrows struck the sturdy carriage walls, each impact a dull, heavy thud. Their sharp metal tips punched through the solid wood, emerging menacingly into the enclosed space.
*Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!*
It was nothing less than a deluge of arrows. Hereis, holding Jeha firmly pressed to the floor, enveloped him completely, ignoring Jeha’s struggles to escape.
“Hereis!”
Jeha’s cry went unheard; Hereis remained utterly unmoving. It was the first time Jeha understood the true extent of his immense strength.
How much time elapsed in that harrowing embrace?
Eventually, the relentless thudding of arrows against the carriage began to subside.
“Lord Jeha,” Hereis whispered, “they’re coming.”
Jeha strained his ears, and sure enough, the distinct sound of footsteps rushing towards their carriage echoed from every direction.
Hereis lifted Jeha from the floor, where he had held him secure, then abruptly wrenched open the carriage door. Clutching Jeha’s hand, he leaped out and immediately began to sprint along the road.
Hereis’s silver hair streamed behind him as he dashed through the nocturnal streets, his grip on Jeha’s wrist unyielding. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed men clad in black, their drawn swords glinting ominously, relentlessly closing in.
This was the very heart of Encarosha’s most exclusive district, a street reserved solely for the upper echelons of society. For assassins to descend in such a horde in this location was a brazen declaration of their intent to kill.
Jeha kept pace with Hereis, running swiftly. He possessed the power to halt their pursuers or annihilate them completely, of course. Yet, they were in the very heart of Encarosha. Should he unleash his abilities and be exposed, Hereis, by his side, would inevitably be dragged into the ensuing chaos.
Calling Paimon was equally problematic. It was abundantly clear that if Paimon witnessed this spectacle, he would tear their attackers to bloody shreds without a second thought.
*Swish! Whiz!*
Several of their pursuers halted, reloading their crossbows and firing once more. Short, thick bolts whizzed perilously close to the fleeing pair. As if fearing Jeha, running just behind him, might be struck, Hereis forcefully pulled Jeha deeper into the folds of his cloak, accelerating their escape.
*Swish!*
A shrill whistle, tearing through the night air, pierced Jeha’s ears. ‘Hereis!’ Jeha’s acute senses registered an arrow shaft hurtling towards Hereis’s back. Jeha abruptly stopped, throwing his arms around Hereis’s back with all his might. Almost in the same instant, a sickening *thwack* resounded, and Jeha’s body locked rigid.
“Lord Jeha!”
Hereis’s voice, laced with shock, struck Jeha’s ears. A dull, pervasive ache spread through him as he crumpled to the ground. The sheer force of the crossbow bolt was tremendous, its impact alone enough to stiffen his entire body.
“Lord Jeha!”
In the brief moments it took Hereis to help Jeha to his feet, the sword-wielding assassins swiftly encircled them. The men in black radiated a uniformly ominous presence, their silence chilling. They merely raised their blades, their eyes gleaming with pure, unadulterated malice.
Hereis’s gaze fell upon the arrow shaft protruding deeply from Jeha’s back, and his sharp eyes narrowed dangerously. A chilling, unprecedented ferocity sparked within his vivid blue irises as he turned them upon the assassins.
Jeha instantly recognized that Hereis was about to unleash his divine power. Yet, this was far from an ideal solution. While Hereis’s strength might be sufficient to repel the attackers, harming humans—even assassins—on Encarosha’s main thoroughfare would irrevocably stain his reputation.
“Hereis!” Jeha tugged sharply on Hereis’s collar, attempting to restrain him.
Suddenly, a massive, shadowy form streaked from the darkness, slamming into one of the assassins and sending him sprawling.
“Aaaargh!” The man pinned beneath the creature shrieked, a high-pitched, desperate sound. Almost instantly, the pungent coppery scent of fresh blood filled the air.
What ensued was absolute pandemonium. A monstrous, jet-black beast darted frantically among the assassins, its movements a blur as it precisely tore at their throats. Men whose necks were half-ripped away desperately clutched at their wounds, yet arterial blood pulsed from them like crimson fountains.
“M-monster! It’s a demon!”
Dispatching a single assassin took no more than a second or two. In the span of a few ragged breaths, several men already lay prone, gushing blood onto the cobblestones. The fallen assassins convulsed, their torn throats emitting grotesque, gurgling gasps. Though the remaining assassins desperately swung their swords at the enigmatic beast, its movements were so impossibly swift that they couldn’t land a single scratch.
“R-retreat! Retreat!”
One man cried out, stumbling backward before whirling around and bolting. As soon as he fled, the others followed suit, abandoning their weapons and scattering. However, the beast seemed to have no intention of letting a single one escape. The gruesome sounds of the black creature pouncing on the fleeing men, one after another, and tearing at their throats, echoed chillingly through the night.
‘…I never raised it to be quite like that…’
Jeha stared blankly, murmuring to himself as he watched Kkamangi’s dark form pursue and fell each assassin. In stark contrast, Hereis, recovering his wits with remarkable speed, gently lifted Jeha into his arms.
Only when the brutal spectacle concluded did people finally spill from the surrounding mansions. They appeared to be servants, and they shrieked in collective horror at the gruesome bloodbath laid out before their very doorsteps.
“Arch—Archbishop Hereis?!”
Amidst the servants’ commotion, a nobleman in pajamas, having rushed out belatedly, recognized the silver-haired Hereis and cried out. He then swiftly shouted to the murmuring onlookers nearby.
“It’s Archbishop Hereis!”
At his declaration, those who had finally recognized the figure draped in a black cloak approached the pair, a collective sigh of relief palpable among them.
“Arch—Archbishop, what in the world has happened…?” The man in pajamas stammered, his face a mask of confusion, until his gaze fell upon Jeha cradled in Hereis’s arms. He gasped anew, utterly horrified.
“Marquis Belgarga?!”
Before the man could utter another loud exclamation, Hereis spoke, his voice remarkably calm.
“Marquis Belgarga has been struck by an assassin’s arrow. The coachman was also murdered, so I request you provide a carriage for his return to Belgarga Manor.”
“Rather than that, please come into our estate first for immediate emergency treatment.”
The man urged, but Hereis immediately shook his head.
“His life is not in immediate danger. It would be more appropriate for him to receive treatment at Belgarga Manor.”
A fleeting shadow of disappointment crossed the man’s eyes at Hereis’s refusal. Nevertheless, he quickly turned, shouting for his servants to bring forth a carriage.
The carriage was swiftly brought forth. Hereis, still cradling Jeha, carefully ascended into it.
“I will send word to the Grand Temple at once.”
The man, having personally closed the carriage door, spoke through the window. Hereis simply nodded in silent acknowledgment. The man then signaled the coachman to depart, having also assigned several armed servants to follow the carriage as a precautionary measure.
“Are you alright?”
Hereis’s voice was a low murmur. Jeha, in turn, noticed the tremor in Hereis’s usually calm tone. And indeed, the body cradling him was subtly shaking.
“Even a human wouldn’t die from something like this, you know.”
Jeha deliberately made light of the situation, yet Hereis’s trembling persisted, refusing to subside.
In truth, Jeha was equally shaken. He simply found himself in a slightly dazed state, a strange detachment from reality.
He had accepted being poisoned, but to be openly assaulted by a dozen assassins on a public thoroughfare… and with an arrow lodged in his back, it was beyond astonishing; it was utterly preposterous.
“I… I cannot heal you.”
Hereis whispered, his voice barely a tremor. As he gazed at Jeha, his eyes were clouded with profound self-reproach.
Hereis, blessed with immense divine power capable of healing any being, found himself utterly powerless to aid Jeha. Jeha was the Demon King, a very fragment of the Demon God. To recklessly unleash divine power upon him risked shattering the seals Jeha had painstakingly placed upon himself, or worse, inflicting grievous harm.
“A power that cannot even heal you…”
Hereis murmured, so softly it was almost swallowed by the carriage’s rumble. Before he could spiral deeper into self-condemnation, Jeha firmly grasped his hand.
He felt the faint tremor in Hereis’s hand, now clasped in his own. It struck him anew just how deeply shaken Hereis truly was. This was the same man who, even when he himself was being savagely brutalized, had suppressed his divine power and stoically endured every blow. To see such a man tremble now evoked a complex mix of pity and profound gratitude in Jeha.
“I’m fine. You know I am, don’t you?”
Jeha’s voice, soft and soothing, worked to calm Hereis. Hereis paused, then exhaled a long, shuddering breath, burying his forehead against Jeha’s chest. Hot, trembling breaths spilled over Jeha’s sternum. Jeha gently stroked Hereis’s hair, a silent gesture of comfort.
“…I will kill them. All of them…. Every single one who dared to harm you, I will tear them to shreds and annihilate even their very souls.”
Hereis mumbled, his face still pressed against Jeha’s chest. It was a faint, barely audible murmur, his lips barely moving, yet Jeha distinctly heard every word.
Finally, the carriage arrived before Belgarga Manor. The coachman, aware of the gravity of the situation, leaped out and loudly announced that Marquis Belgarga was injured. The quiet manor was instantly thrown into a frenzy.
“Master.”
As Jeha descended from the carriage in Hereis’s arms, Paimon appeared, his face grim, and addressed Jeha. His eyes fixed on the arrow shaft protruding from Jeha’s back. Fearing Paimon might do something rash, Jeha quickly grabbed his arm.
“Let’s get this treated first, then we can talk.”
At Jeha’s words, Paimon’s sharp gaze immediately softened, becoming calm.
“…Please, go inside.”
Paimon turned and began to walk ahead. Jeha, inwardly relieved that Paimon hadn’t erupted in fury, relaxed into Hereis’s embrace, letting his body go limp.