Chapter 1831 - 507: Blades Crossed in the Name of the Sacred, Reconciled by the Demon King's "Scheme

Poor Jelock did not know that the Campbell family had been saved by demons more than once.

Compared to that, his own life really doesn't count for much.

For the unfathomable Demon King, steadying a piece on the chessboard is just a trivial matter.

If the Demon King forbids killing someone, not even a Demon God can kill them.

Two days had passed since that battle, and Thanos returned to the Great Graveyard. In the Audience Hall, he reported back to the Demon King, who already knew the outcome, and returned the gun that the Demon King had bestowed upon him.

Meanwhile, a warship flying the Campbell Duchy's flag set sail from the port of Thunder City, like an arrow released from a bow, striking towards the isolated Krant Island in the sea!

Upon hearing of the trouble at Krant Island's castle, Edward was in a state of anxiety. Having just bid farewell to Baron Elaric, he turned and stepped onto the deck of this warship with his trusted aides.

Staring at the faintly visible port in the distance, he sternly ordered the captain beside him.

"Sail over there! Tell the soldiers and sailors to prepare for battle!"

A difficult expression appeared on the captain's face, and he nervously reported to the Grand Duke.

"Your Majesty, Krant Island is surrounded by reefs, and that port is not meant for warships. Recklessly approaching risks running aground! My suggestion is to anchor the warship a short distance from the shore for support, then deploy the rowboats... I volunteer to lead the charge and be the first to land!"

Edward took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress the anger in his heart, not allowing personal feelings to cloud his judgment.

"...You stay on the ship, get as close as you can, and load all cannons, waiting for my command."

The captain breathed a sigh of relief and accepted the order respectfully.

"As you command, Your Majesty."

However, not yet fully exhaled, Edward turned his gaze to his trusted aide, Bertrand.

He was Theresa's father, and during the "Winter Moon Rebellion," he made great contributions, rising to the level of a Platinum Level Transcendent.

"Bertrand, you're coming with me on board."

Seeing the Grand Duke gripping his sword tightly, Bertrand's face showed a look of surprise, then he bowed and accepted the order.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He did not try to dissuade the Grand Duke. After all, Jelock was still His Majesty's brother, even if they had once met on the battlefield.

The priests often claimed their Grand Duke had forsaken human emotions, and his silver hair was Saint Sis's punishment for selling his soul to a demon and brandishing a slaughter knife against his own kin.

Now it seemed the rumors were unfounded, and there was a faint comfort in his heart.

Unlike the King of Ryan Kingdom, the Duke to whom he swore loyalty, though ambitious, was not completely a political animal; he still retained some warmth of a human...

The warship lowered the rowboat, and the duchy's trusted aides, carrying rifles, vigorously rowed, swiftly landing on that small port nestled among the reefs.

Boots landed on the rotten planks, and Edward felt his heart tighten.

The dilapidated castle resembled a mausoleum, and even the lighthouse's glow could not illuminate all the darkness on this small island.

He had only seen this island on maps and never imagined it would be such a place...

"Form up!" Bertrand shouted to the trusted aides, ordering the soldiers to assemble into a formation against the Transcendents.

The Roxey Rifle could unleash a dense barrage of fire, but to defeat those swift Transcendents, courage and tactics were still needed.

If an assassin was still here, he knew the outcome might still depend on the sword in his hand.

Not lingering outside the castle for long, Edward gripped the sword at his waist tightly and led his trusted aides rushing toward the castle.

The sea breeze whistling beneath the castle was still fierce, carrying salty moisture, yet it could not dispel the nauseating scent of blood within the castle.

As he stepped through the castle gates, Edward's heart sank. He saw the majestic monastery in the distance, which had turned into a mortal purgatory; only jagged glass remained on the window sills, with vicious blood wafting behind the crumbling walls.

"...By Saint Sis." Bertrand couldn't help but swallow, silently praying in his heart.

Any Transcendent with a sliver of devotion and reverence for the Holy Light could not possibly have brawled in the monastery and wrecked the sacred Prayer Hall like this.

Edward didn't stop, nor did he have the time to bother with those peripheral matters. Striding urgently over the cracked tiles, he stormed into the ruined monastery.

The trusted aides following closely behind had never seen the Grand Duke in this state before.

The silver-haired Duke, renowned for his calm demeanor, now had disheveled hair, and on his dignified face, one could even see a hint of panic.

"Jelock!"

Facing the empty monastery, he shouted, his gaze searching the hall.

Finally, next to a broken Saint Siss statue, he found that familiar figure.

Jelock was leaning against the wall, having changed into a clean, coarse monk robe, and his wounds had been simply bandaged.

He appeared to be badly hurt, but wasn't as close to death as Edward had feared.

On the contrary, his expression was unusually calm, eyes closed, praying as usual before the statue.

On hearing his brother's call, Jelock, deep in prayer, slowly raised his head and opened his eyes.

Surprise flickered in his eyes, as if he hadn't expected his brother to personally come here.

"...Your Majesty?"

Edward rushed to him in just a few strides, kneeling on one knee despite the dust on the ground, trembling as he extended his hands to check his brother's injuries.

Upon confirming those wounds were gruesome but had healed, his tensed shoulders finally relaxed.