Parallel Lines Of Emotion (1)

The traitor of the Messenger Clan, Arael, was here right now?

Azadine looked at the soldier with a mix of doubt and curiosity.

“How do you know that?”

“Well, we were told to be on alert.”

“The entire fortress is in chaos right now because of heightened security.”

“I see.”

“Yes.”

“Well then, should I just knock you out?”

As soon as Azadine said that, the soldiers were visibly startled.

“Sir Guillaumevalt… W-we were actually hoping for your return.”

“Yes, though we’re just lowly soldiers, and our words may not carry much weight…”

“Please, allow us to help.”

“Hmm. I appreciate the sentiment, but that won’t be possible.”

Guillaumevalt responded to the soldiers before gesturing toward Azadine.

“Do not kill them.”

“Don’t worry.”

Azadine swiftly knocked them unconscious by choking them out and laid them to the side.

Count Lantarique’s castle was a grand mansion atop a hill, fortified with multiple watchtowers and layers of outer walls. It was a masterpiece of fortress engineering, designed with both residential comfort and defensive capabilities in mind.

At the very heart of the castle, in the Count’s quarters, the young lord Adler had already seized everything for himself.

“So, this is the famed Arael of the Messenger Clan.”

Adler smirked as he gazed at Arael, the leader of the Arael branch of the Messenger Clan, who had come to his castle.

She was clad in jet-black armor with an almost glassy sheen, its lightweight yet sturdy material accentuating her figure.

Her violet eyes and long, neatly tied black hair gave her an imposing presence, and she stared at Adler with an air of arrogance.

‘A woman who stirs the urge for conquest in men… So, she’s the leader of the Messenger Clan’s rebel faction? If I take control of her, then I control the Messenger Clan itself.’

Adler felt his breath quicken, overcome with an overwhelming desire to dominate her.

“I came to check on our business arrangements. I heard you had a lot of complaints about our methods?”

“That’s right. Your subordinates were attached to my father, yet they failed to protect him. Shouldn’t I at least receive an apology for that?”

At Adler’s words, the Messengers accompanying Arael flinched.

A cold wave of killing intent radiated from them, but Adler had been prepared for this meeting.

He had already forced them to surrender all weapons before entering the negotiation chamber, and behind the curtains, halberd-wielding heavy infantry stood ready.

No matter how skilled the Messenger Clan was, they wouldn’t dare act recklessly.

“This bastard… how dare you?!”

“Are you trying to insult us?”

“Insult? The only ones being insulting here are you. You soulless heathens. My blood is different from yours.”

At his words, Arael’s subordinates were left in utter disbelief.

“Enough. You will not speak.”

Arael stopped her subordinates.

“Well, it’s true that we let your father go missing. My apologies for that.”

Arael readily admitted.

“Hah. You made a contract with my father. And yet, after failing to uphold it, you still demand the key to the Emperor’s treasury? A deal only works when both sides give and take, don’t you think?”

“Well, you make a fair point. I do apologize for what happened to your father, Count Garnahaer. We are also investigating what exactly transpired.”

Arael smiled sweetly as she spoke.

“You have a sense of decorum. Good. Not only do you look good, but you also have some charm. I’m starting to like you more.”

“…….”

Arael’s subordinates looked on in disbelief at Adler’s audacity. If Arael hadn’t stopped them, they would have torn him apart on the spot.

“That’s precisely why I came here myself. I thought I should show some sincerity.”

“I do appreciate the effort. But you seem to think too highly of yourself. Do you really believe that simply showing up will erase all the damages? I’ve lost soldiers, sergeants, and knights. More importantly, I’ve lost my father, the head of my house. A few words won’t make up for that.”

“Forgiveness?”

The Messengers listening furrowed their brows.

They were the highest-ranking officials of the Arael faction within the Messenger Clan—figures of absolute authority among their people.

And yet, this arrogant noble brat was openly devaluing Arael’s worth.

“We are the descendants of the Yaegas God tribe, and I stand at its peak. Truthfully, even dealing with you is—”

“About that…”

Arael smiled.

“I am a descendant of Harkonia.”

“Harkonia?”

“He was once the leader of our Messenger Clan.”

“And what’s so great about that? Why would you boast about being the chief of soulless heathens? If it were me, I’d be ashamed.”

“……!”

Arael restrained her subordinates, who were seething with rage, and kept smiling.

“So that’s how you see it. You think the blood of the Yaegas God tribe is supreme?”

“Of course. The idea of you heathens distinguishing rank among yourselves is ridiculous.”

“But listen carefully. Harkonia was the Emperor’s lover. They even had a child together. Do you get what I’m saying? The blood of the Emperor flows through our Messenger Clan. These violet eyes—this is proof of Emperor Yaeslat’s lineage. If we’re comparing Yaegas blood, I have more claim to it than you do.”

The Yaegas God tribe was typically characterized by blonde or silver hair and blue-gray eyes.

However, Emperor Yaeslat, who betrayed his siblings and seized all eight thrones for himself, had black hair and violet eyes—unlike the rest of his kin.

Adler, who had been boasting about his Yaegas lineage, found himself at a loss for words.

He stammered for a moment before clicking his tongue in irritation.

“Hah, but the Emperor…”

“That’s right. What does bloodline matter so much? What’s important is who I am right now.”

Arael sneered at Adler, who was prattling on about lineage. However, Adler seemed to interpret her words differently.

“I see. So you do have noble blood. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have become the leader of the rebel faction of the Messenger Clan at such a young age. Very well. How about becoming my lover?”

“…Lover?”

Arael’s subordinates had already reached the limits of their patience. Whether Arael stopped them or not, they were determined to kill this blasphemous Adler and accept whatever punishment Arael gave them afterward.

They moved in anger.

At that moment, Arael swung her hand.

-Smack! Smack!

“Ugh!”

With two sharp sounds, the heads of a man and woman among Arael’s subordinates snapped to the side. Arael had just slapped them.

“Pull yourselves together. Have you calmed down now?”

“M-my apologies.”

“…….”

If Adler had even a shred of martial training, he would have realized just how incredibly fast and precise Arael’s movement was. Had her subordinates attacked before she struck them, Adler would have had no way to defend himself.

However, he was too intoxicated to truly grasp what had happened in front of him.

“What do you mean by ‘becoming your lover’?”

Arael calmed her subordinates before turning her attention to Adler.

“I want the Emperor’s bloodline. Not the ordinary Yaegas God Tribe lineage, but the mutated divine bloodline. However, since I am destined to become the Count of Lantarique, I cannot formally marry soulless heathens like you from the Messenger Clan.”

His words enraged Arael’s subordinates even more. They had barely regained their composure after being slapped, but now, their patience was once again at its breaking point.

“We’ve heard enough of this nonsense.”

“Let’s just kill him. That key to the Emperor’s treasury is probably on his body anyway.”

“No. Hold on a moment.”

Arael stopped them.

“Instead, come in.”

“…….”

The door swung open, and the guards stationed outside collapsed.

Stepping inside were Azadine, Mediam, and Ismail.

“Apologies for interrupting.”

Azadine said this as he glared at Arael.

“Arael, why don’t you continue your business? It was just starting to get interesting.”

“W-what? Who the hell are you?!”

Adler was flustered by the fact that his subordinates had been silently dealt with.

He had acted so arrogantly because he believed his soldiers were armed while the Messenger Clan members were unarmed. But now, men who were unmistakably from the Messenger Clan had entered the room.

“It’s been a long time, little brother. Ever since you became Kazas’s disciple, right? Has it been ten years?”

Arael welcomed Azadine.

“W-what? Little brother? These people?!”

Adler had no knowledge of Arael and Azadine’s relationship, so he simply assumed that Arael had secretly orchestrated his brother’s arrival.

Even with his dulled mind from the drugs, Adler could tell that the situation had turned dangerous.

“If anything, you’re the younger sister. Twin siblings don’t have inheritance rights, so who’s older and who’s younger doesn’t really matter, does it? Clinging to such things is pathetic.”

“I think so too. So why don’t you just accept that you’re the younger one?”

“That disgusts me, so no.”

Azadine waved his hand dismissively.

Through the open door, Guillaumevalt and the others entered.

“Guillaumevalt?!”

“Adler…?”

Guillaumevalt looked at Adler with a displeased expression.

“Hey! Messenger Clan! Kill Guillaumevalt!”

Even at Adler’s command, Arael and her subordinates only scoffed and ignored him.

“Ugh….”

“You foolish little brother. You’ve brought in forces you can’t control. Not that I’m in a position to criticize, am I?”

The moment Guillaumevalt laid eyes on Arael, he understood.

She was not human.

According to mythology, dragons, djinn, angels, and demons sometimes took on human forms and wandered the mortal realm.

This was surely one of those beings. Just looking at her sent shivers down his spine, and her presence radiated an overwhelming beauty and power.

In some ways, Guillaumevalt couldn’t help but be impressed with Adler.

To think that this idiot had actually suggested making her his lover? Was he insane?

That was like dragging a volcano home to use as a fireplace just because the house was cold in winter.

How thoughtless or fearless would one have to be to say something like that?

“H-how did you get in?”

“Through the underground passage.”

“But that’s…”

“You filled it with undead, didn’t you?”

“Yes! My father’s failed creations! They shouldn’t have been so easy to deal with!”

Was he talking about the Necro Angels?

Scott had used an undead talisman to neutralize them effortlessly, but Adler seemed to have placed a great deal of confidence in them.

“Arael! If you don’t kill Guillaumevalt right now, this alliance is over!”

“But, Young Lord Adler, wouldn’t it be just as effective to strike a deal with Guillaumevalt instead? What we want is the key to the Emperor’s treasury. If he gives it to us, it doesn’t matter whether we take it from you or him, does it?”

“What?! You traitors!”

At that moment, Adler began casting a spell.

As expected of a necromancer, powerful and sinister energy began to swirl around him, but—

-Slash!

His hands, which had been forming the casting seals, were severed.