Dungeon of Pride, Laplace

Chapter 986- Meeting the Two Heroes of the past (2)

"You tend to him. In the meantime, I'll wring every bit of information out of this demon who dared harm him" Saying that, he extended his two fingers and pointed at the demon.

"Who fired that [Níðhögg]? Answer me, demon"... n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Níðhögg? Simon wanted to ask what was that; however, before he could, he saw the silver haired man draw a line in the air with his fingers.

An action so inconspicuous and ordinary, yet it was this seemingly ordinary motion that screamed of death.

Simon hurriedly activated all of his movement and augmenting skills and got out of the way. A fraction of a second later, the space where he stood previously, was torn apart. A long silver gash, clean and precise appeared and lingered in the air for a long time.

Gulp… Simon gulped as he looked at the cut. The edges of the tear glowed faintly, its sheer sharpness distorting even the surrounding air. Had he been a second slower, he'd be sliced clean in half.

"A Demon marquess managed to dodge that? Impressive" the silver haired man arched his brows "Looks like this one's got skills way above his rank. Must be some elite bloodline demon… maybe one of those Prima Demon Archduke successors?".

He then shook his head, dismissing the idea "Doesn't matter. Enemy's an enemy."

Whoosh… suddenly his aura shifted the pressure around him becoming suffocating. He wasn't holding back anymore. His fingers started glowing faintly, the silver light flickering like sparks.

"You've got three seconds to explain what happened here."

This time, Vincent moved faster. His glowing fingers sliced through the air in an arc, too quick for Simon to follow.

SLASH... Pain erupted across his chest. A clean cut ran from his shoulder to his waist, blood pouring out like a flood.

"Kugh!" Simon stumbled back, clutching the wound. His expression was distorted and his breathing distorted, but the light in his eyes never dimmed.

Even against impossible odds like this where the chance of him winning was next to none, he was still searching and probing for a way to win.

"If you're giving me three seconds, then wait three seconds, damn it" he cussed.

"That was just a warning. I could've killed you, but I didn't because I want answers. So stop playing games and start talking" The silver haired man spoke, his voice calm and cold.

"One… Two…" With each second, the glow in his fingers intensified and so did the pressure.

What do I do? I can't outrun him nor can I fight him directly. This is bad. Dammit now that it has come to this, I'll stake everything in this final gamble… Simon was ready to risk it all, the fingers of Ozymandias flashed, curse energy oozing out of them.

"Three. So, you're not going to talk? Fine. I'll just cut off your hands and legs first."

The silver haired man raised his hand, and just when he was about to drop it, a voice interjected.

"Wait... Vincent!!!" A weak, rasping shout broke through the tension, stopping the silver haired man mid-swing. Both he and the golden-haired man turned toward the voice.

It was Rothgard, coughing violently he struggled to get on his feet.

"You shouldn't try to move, my friend. Stay down, we'll handle this." the golden-haired man spoke softly supporting the former.

But Rothgard shook his head, "No, Itherion. I have to do this."

His gaze turned toward Simon, there was surprise, acceptance, resignation and also some regret. However, there was no repulsiveness or hatred in his eyes.

"So… you're a Demon Noble huh" Rothgard's lips cracked into a smile "It all makes sense now… why you knew so much. How the decoy force survived… I had an inkling when you told us all that.."

Slowly the man bowed his and expressed his gratitude "Thank you… thanks to you we were able to accomplish our task".

Simon was silent, his expression unreadable. He wasn't used to such sincerity, especially from a human, but after a brief moment, he nodded. It was surprising for him to not see Rothgard display any of the typical hatred or enmity the two races shared.

"What is going on?"

Seeing Rothgard converse with the Demon Marquess and even express gratitude, the two figures couldn't help but question.

"Simon is not our enemy. In fact, he's the one who helped us hold the demon horde back for so long."

For a moment, the two couldn't believe their ears. They even stared at Rothgard as if he had gone insane from the trauma.

"You're telling me a Demon Noble helped you?" the golden haired man inquired.

"That's right, not only did he give us the information and weakness on the platoon sent here by the demon horde, but he even acted as a decoy to buy us time. Although as you can see we were obliterated in the end, we managed to somehow complete our task of slowing the enemy down"

At the end of his sentence, Rothgard's tone carried a tone of bitterness and self mockery.

The two looked at him with deep meaning. A demon noble helping humans? It was easier to believe cows could fly. No wonder the two thought that Rothgard's memory had been tampered with.

The silver haired man looked at the golden who shook his head "I don't sense any tampering with his mind. So, you're really telling us the demon helped you?"

Rothgard nodded again, explaining everything—their plan to use the fortress on Mount Gorgor, Simon's role in their resistance, and how they ultimately fell to the devastating attack.

The more they listened, the more their expressions shifted from scepticism to grim acknowledgement. By the time Rothgard finished, both men sighed deeply.

"You've been through hell," The golden haired man said softly, placing a comforting hand on Rothgard's shoulder "It's a miracle you're alive at all."

Step… The silver haired man stepped forward, his action immeadiately warranted caution from Simon who was ready to use the finger of Ozymandias at a moment's notice. However, thanks to Rothgard's intervention, things didn't lead to a confrontation.