Chương 171: Coma III
"Haaa," Emperor Quinn rubbed his temples, staring at the device in his hands. His frustration was palpable.
"Is this correct?" he asked his chancellor, Lord Galvain, who merely nodded in response, his expression grave.
"Goddammit," Quinn cursed under his breath, tossing the device onto the table. "Why is he making this difficult now?"
The issue at hand involved the two demon contractors—Drake Namgung, the second son of the Namgung family, and Luke Orden, the second son of Marquis Orden. Demon contractors were meant to be executed immediately, no exceptions. This was a law set in stone for centuries, ensuring that the taint of demonic influence was eradicated as swiftly as possible.
Yet now, complications had arisen.
Quinn wasn't overly concerned about Drake Namgung—the Namgung family still had an heir, and their patriarch was a reasonable man. But Marquis Orden had sent a formal protest, pleading for his son Luke to be spared. It was absurd.
"What does he think this is?" Quinn muttered, anger flashing across his features.
If Luke had committed any other crime, even something as severe as murder, there might have been room for negotiation. After all, he was the second son of a powerful marquis, and nobility often received more lenient treatment. But this? This was beyond forgiveness.
Luke had succumbed to demonic temptation—a crime in itself worthy of death. But more than that, he had attempted to rape the princess of the North, Rachel Creighton, driven by lust amplified by his demonic contract. Even without the demonic involvement, this alone would warrant execution.
And as if that weren't enough, Luke had also attempted to murder Arthur Nightingale, a rising star and future hero, during his twisted descent into madness.
"The boy's practically signed his own death warrant," Quinn muttered bitterly. "I wouldn't be able to save my own son if he did something like this."
Quinn knew Marquis Orden well, a man he had always considered dignified and honorable. That was why this request shocked him to the core. How could someone he respected so deeply ask for leniency in a situation like this?
"Even though I respect the Marquis," Quinn said, his voice firm, "I have no choice. After all, even Princess Seraphina and my own daughter, Cecilia, were harmed during this incident."
The bitter taste of betrayal lingered in his mouth. Quinn wasn't just doing this out of duty—he personally wanted Luke dead. The crimes were unforgivable, and the damage done to the future empresses of two powerful nations made it clear that justice needed to be swift and absolute.
Quinn rose from his desk, his expression darkening. He couldn't afford to take any chances. He didn't know if Marquis Orden would try to physically resist the decree. And if he did, Quinn needed to be ready for it.
"Gather the First Division of Imperial Knights," he commanded, his voice as cold as steel. "I will lead them myself."
His chancellor, Lord Galvain, looked up in surprise, but he didn't argue. He simply nodded, recognizing the gravity of the situation. Quinn had never personally led the Imperial Knights since ascending to the throne, but this incident had crossed the line.
As Quinn prepared for the coming confrontation, he felt the weight of his responsibility settle on his shoulders. He wasn't just an emperor upholding the law—he was a father, protecting the future of his empire and the young women who would one day shape it.
Marquis Orden may have been a man of honor once, but if he chose to defy the empire's decree, Quinn would show him no mercy.
"I'll give him one chance," Quinn muttered under his breath as he headed toward the grand hall. "One chance to surrender Luke peacefully. If he refuses, I'll have no choice."
His footsteps echoed through the palace, each one carrying him closer to a decision that could shake the empire to its core.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Arthur's eyelids fluttered, a faint groan escaping his lips. The sterile scent of the infirmary filled his senses, and the overwhelming ache in his body was the first thing that greeted him as he slowly regained consciousness. His body felt heavy, as if he had been dragged back from the brink of death.
His mind was foggy at first, unclear of where he was or how long he had been out. He blinked several times, his vision clearing, revealing the plain white ceiling above him. A dull pain throbbed in his head, reminding him of the battle, of the overwhelming force he had faced against Drake and Luke.
"Arthur?" a soft voice cut through the haze. It was Rachel, seated beside him, her hands trembling slightly as she leaned forward. Her eyes were red, tear-streaked from worry. The moment his eyes opened, she gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. Relief flooded her expression, and she turned to the door. "He's awake!"
Within moments, the room filled with a rush of familiar faces.
Seraphina and Cecilia were the first to push their way through the door. Seraphina's usual composed demeanor cracked as she rushed to Arthur's side, her silver hair disheveled. Cecilia, ever the confident one, was uncharacteristically silent, her crimson eyes locked onto Arthur with concern.
"Arthur," Seraphina whispered, her voice shaking. "We thought… We thought you wouldn't wake up."
Cecilia nodded, her lips pressed tightly together, but the vulnerability in her eyes betrayed her usual bravado.
Rachel was still beside him, her hand resting gently on his. "You've been in a coma for nearly a month, Arthur. We thought we lost you."
Arthur's eyes flickered toward each of them, his voice hoarse as he tried to speak. "A month?"
Rachel nodded. "Yes… A whole month."
And then came another visitor, unexpected yet anticipated in his own right.
Lucifer Windward strode into the room, his usual air of confidence dimmed by the gravity of the situation. He didn't say anything at first, standing silently near the door, his sharp gaze fixed on Arthur. It was the first time Lucifer had seen his rival, his friend, in such a weakened state.
"Welcome back, Arthur," Lucifer finally said, his voice low, yet there was a hint of relief in his tone.
Even Ian Viserion and Jin Ashbluff appeared soon after, both solemn, but their presence was felt as they stood by the door. They had all come, each of them bringing with them a mix of guilt, concern, and relief.
The room was thick with unspoken emotions—guilt for not being able to stop what had happened, concern for what Arthur had endured, and relief that he was still alive.
Arthur tried to sit up, wincing at the pain still lingering in his body. "I…" His voice faltered. He couldn't find the words to express what he wanted to say, to address the faces looking down at him.
Seraphina knelt by his bedside, placing a hand on his shoulder, her touch light but reassuring. "You don't need to say anything right now, Arthur. Just rest."
Cecilia crossed her arms, but her expression softened. "You were reckless, you idiot… but we're glad you're still here."
Lucifer, standing by the door, gave a small nod, his usual smirk absent. "Don't make a habit of this, Nightingale."
Arthur chuckled weakly, though the movement hurt. "I'll… try not to."
As the room settled, the weight of their presence made it clear—Arthur wasn't alone in this fight. They had all been affected by what had happened. And despite everything, they were still here, by his side.
Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the warmth of their presence.
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