Chapter 72. Traitor

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Author's Note:
Happy New Year!!!

*****

The enormous wave of demons disappeared, as the black dragon carrying tens of adventurers had soared beyond into the wispy clouds. The night sky was like an infinite void, constantly peering down at them with a vast hunger.

Not even their own shadows were visible to the naked eye.

"...it's getting warmer." Percival was the first to notice the sudden rise in temperature. The bone-chilling frost had melted into a blooming summer, gnawing on their bones like an itchy mosquito bite.

Upon hearing his exclamation, everyone understood.

They escaped from Isdis Kingdom. They're now in Ubel—the abandoned kingdom of the demons. The black dragon began flying lower to the land, allowing the group of adventurers to see the destroyed kingdom for themselves.

The land—which was supposed to healthy in rich greens and nurtured in supple soil—had completely died out. Every single plant had dwindled into an unsightly wilt, and every green rotted to a pecan brown. The soil burned mahogany red, as if a fire was ignited underneath the land and boiling it alight. Pebbles of rocks laid across the red land, and what was once a vast field of trees turned into a barren mine.

"...this is where I woke up," Farrah stated, "The Book of Memories should be somewhere here."

Her heart pumped the blood in her veins faster. She could feel a rush of excitement taint over her indifferent expression.

From the distance, there was the crumbling figure of a broken castle—pieces of its cobblestone broken off and rusting on the ground. Its spiky peak was leaning to one side, almost collapsing into halves. "We can begin searching by revisiting the places you remember," Lucilline offered to the Demon Princess.

Farrah agreed.

Slowly, the black dragon descended onto the red soil. Its claws left hideous marks on the already hideous piece of land.

Ubel Kingdom has become a lonesome piece of land—not a single living being insight.

The group of adventurers and knights disembarked the black dragon's back, climbing down and their heels sinking into the foreign soil. Ubel Kingdom stunk of the dead, with the thick scent of ashes clamouring the air, distorting almost everything before them. It appeared as if a great fire burned down the entire nation, with its charcoal staining every crook and cranny.

Azalea couldn't hold in his cough.

"Sorry," his chest heaved, "I need a breather." A fist stuck before his mouth, while he coughed his lungs out. The silver knight's amethyst purple eyes appeared a bit weary.

He was fatigued during the dragon ride.

"Brother, you—" Willow reached out a hand to him, but was interrupted by another nasty cough. Augustine gave her a side glance, raising a gloved hand to her, "Let him rest. There is something called 'air sickness'."

The silver knight continuously coughed, his face paling and becoming dreary.

At that point, Lucilline was sure that Azalea's voice would have given out.

However, he was proven wrong. Soon enough, Azalea had caught himself and stopped coughing. His face was almost as pale as his silver locks of hair, shining briefly like a polished diamond. The amethyst purple in his eyes flashed a hint of queasiness.

"We can rest for a bit more," Lucilline offered.

Azalea raised his head softly.

His gaze seemed to pierce deeply into Lucilline's flesh, making the latter lightly wobble on his feet. The black-haired nobleman was puzzled. What was that? He quickly regained his calm. Perhaps he was shocked to see Azalea in such a sorry state.

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