Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person's POV

"Heh... stop bluffing. Do I honestly need you to let me go?"

His voice dripped with disdain.

"Do you think for even a second that I won't sever this head from your precious prince's shoulders and vanish from your grasp like a damn ghost?"

The demon knight's crimson eyes started blazing with fresh fury on hearing the boy's taunt.

Sparks of energy rippled from his limbs as he shifted into a stance that promised devastation.

One more twitch and he would leap, but Ethan's next words sliced through the tension like an ambush in the dark.

"Wait, don't be so jumpy. Control you emotions, Mister Knight."

The demon knight Taylor seemed to have understood as he relaxed his stance. Seeing that, Ethan smiled and continued,

"Let's get serious, shall we?"

The cool forest wind howled around them and ruffled Ethan's blood-matted hair.

"Now that you understand where I stand, let me offer you a deal, and you don't need to worry, as this one would be forged in secrecy and shadow.

You have to swear a vow. Firstly, swear it to your soul and the Astral Realm itself.

You will not speak of me, my allies, or anything you witnessed today or last night.

You may spin your tale as you wish, like say I was an assassin, a rogue, an attempt from a strong enemy of Duke Vord, and while you do that, you have to ensure that my truth stays buried simultaneously."

Telor's eyes narrowed and glinted like red gems as he eased even further, as he could sense with his trusted senses and instincts that Ethan was genuinely serious about this secret deal he had offered.

He didn't lower his guard entirely, but the tension in his shoulders slackened slightly as curiosity overtook bloodlust.

"And what," he rasped, his voice like gravel over a blade's edge, "do I get for such a vow?"

His words brimmed with skepticism, but there was something else in them.

It was a thinly veiled anticipation and hunger.

And that hunger was the same hunger that drove every warrior to claw at the next peak of power, no matter how unreachable it may appear.

Ethan's voice lowered, and a strange light flickered behind his eyes as he started moving his lips.

"I can offer you one opportunity, though just one, to seek direct guidance from a forbidden being."

His words struck like a bell in a dead temple.

"You can ask anything, you can ask any question as long as it falls beneath the sky of the Divine Ascension path."

When he finished, a heavy silence followed, and it seemed like even the night seemed to hold its breath.

This was a card he had held close and buried deeper than most of his secrets.

It was a plan forged in the moment he had brought the ducal heir to his knees.

As for his enticing offer, the truth behind it was that he had no interest in fighting a lifelong enemy who was actually strong or too strong for the current him to inflict even a small but of injury.

He could barely contend with this demon knight and save his skin in the process, so he planned to use him as a pawn working in his favor.

"What!!" Telor's shocked shout shattered the stillness as his body tensed, but he still didn't move.

"How is that even possible?! Don't lie to me, boy! You think I will fall for such stupid talk about such an absurd thing being real?"

And despite saying these words, he didn't lunge and he didn't strike.

His voice also wavered slightly, though it was too subtle for anyone else to notice.

His angry words did not coincide with an emotion of rage, but seemed to be filled with anticipation.

His credible doubts clashed with a sliver of desperate hope and it was like a soldier seeing an impossible light in the middle of a battlefield.

Ethan caught the hesitation clearly as he felt the flicker in his opponent's soul, and pounced, but not with force, but with words soaked in baited promise.

His lips curled into a wicked grin, and he whispered, while his body was a dagger.

"I vow upon the Astral Realm and my soul that I know such a being personally and intimately.

And that they will grant me one favor and one self-request."

After dropping the truth bomb on the knight Telor, he stopped as the silence after his words was louder than any shout.

The knight stood still with his chest heaving, and suddenly, as if overwhelmed by the weight of what he was hearing, the knight's hands moved.

With a grunt of disbelief and excitement, he tore the helmet from his head and cast it aside.

His broad, scarred, and battle-hardened face was revealed.

It was a map of old pain, new fury, and a sudden unspoken desperation.

His jaw was clenched, his teeth were gritted, and his eyes, once only filled with the bloodlust for an enemy, were now shadowed by something more complex.

He started walking forward, but this time he didn't charge with fury like before, but with steady and measured steps.

His boots crunched against the torn-up grass and scattered debris of the ruined lakeshore while the quiet weight of his movements spoke louder than words.

The breeze was still laced with the faint chill of Ethan's icy magic and brushed past both of them while carrying with it the scent of scorched bark and blood-soaked earth.

He stopped about four feet in front of Ethan.

His armor gave off a faint heat and still simmered from the earlier clashes, and his breath came out low and controlled, though Ethan noticed the way his chest rose just a bit quicker than normal.

Ethan didn't move.

His posture was relaxed but alert at the same time, while his gaze remained steady and sharp.

From his hand, the black chain stretched down to the unconscious prince, who lay like a discarded dog.