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Rise of the Scarlet Demon

—"So, this is it, huh? What a horrific way to die." Damien whispered his 'last words' and closed my eyes. ... Darkness. Absolute darkness. Not gonna lie, I wasn't a big believer or anything, but if this is the afterlife, I'd rather there just be nothing... "Ah?" I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. I hazily got up from the bed I woke up in. Confused about how I survived and how I wasn't covered in third or fourth-degree burns, I reached for the lights. "What?" I said as I stared at bloodred eyes reflected on the mirror in front of me. (This is my first novel, so if you see any mistake, correct me so I can fix it. I'll try to post one new chapter every day, but I can't promise anything.)

SelfishApple · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
14 Chs

Chapter 14: Papa...

The first four carriages were all filled to the brim with herbs, monster parts, and other magical ingredients often used to do dark magic and potions. Raphael even found a spatial bag, where they started to put their loot.

'Why didn't they just put the things inside the spatial bag to begin with?' he thought, confused.

On the fifth carriage, where a magical beast's egg was being incubated, a more advanced defence was set in place. After breaking through the warding system and carefully picking the lock to avoid any misfortune, a chicken-sized egg with purple and yellow patterns was thrown into the spatial bag.

"Are you sure you want to see it?" Raphael asked in front of the sixth and last carriage. "It may... well, re—"

"I'll be fine, Lord," Chloe interrupted, her hands tightly clenched. "I... I can't just look away every time," she said, taking a deep breath.

"Okay." He sighed.

It took a while for the young lord to pick up the carriage's lock. It was clearly well designed and made, especially for this carriage. As the carriage's door opened, Chloe bit her lower lip as he patted her in the back in an attempt to comfort her.

Inside the carriage, there was only a boy with shackles around his ankles and wrists. Its age was not even in the double digits yet. Just as the two of them stepped into the carriage, the boy's fragile, ruby-like eyes glanced up.

"... Papa, es-tu revenu... pour me sauver?" whispered the boy as he looked at Raphael through his messy, dark purple hair.

"I... I can't understand what he's saying," Chloe said as he got near the boy and started to free him from his shackles.

"He's a foreigner," Raphael answered. "I think." He looked everywhere for injuries or bruises, but besides being underfed, his captives didn't seem to do anything to him.

The boy kept glancing at Raphael while mumbling from time to time. His lips were cracked from dehydration, and his ribs were visible. Raphael took a flask of water from his suit, putting it in the boy's mouth.

"Pouvons-nous rentrer à la maison maintenant?" said the boy, tears streaming from his eyes while he drank the water.

"Carry him," ordered the young lord, as he got up in a heavy mood. "I'll go set up a place for us to sleep tonight..."

"Yes, lord..." she said, gently picking him up.

"Mama...?" The boy whispered, delirious, as he felt her warmth.

...

As the boy slept under a blanket by their side, both the master and servant stared at the campfire, talking from time to time as Chloe cooked an improvised stew.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" She asked, tossing more wood into the campfire.

"I don't know..." Raphael answered, unsure. "Do you think he's part elf?" he wondered, looking at the child's pointy ears.

"Perhaps," Chloe said, looking at his ears. "He has red eyes like dark elves, and his hair fits the standard colour as well..." she sighed. "What do you think happened for him to—" she glanced at the fire. "You know..."

"He has a very high amount of mana. For what I can see, I don't know why," he replied. "His soul seems a little unstable as well."

"Is there..." she mumbled, "anything you can do about it, Lord?"

Raphael didn't answer.

"... Before he passed out, which language was he speaking?" she asked, changing the subject while looking at the sleeping child.

"I don't know."—he sighed—"French, I think."

"Mama...?" The child murmured, sitting up with hazy eyes as he looked at Chloe.

Sniff.

The boy's nose twitched and twisted happily as he stared wide-eyed at the stew.

"Are you hungry, little one?" the Lord asked, with a thin smile on his face.

"Hungry...?"

"Can you understand me?" Raphael spoke kindly.

"Um!" the child nodded his head, his messy dark hair hiding his face.

"He seems more—calm now," Chloe mumbled.

"Do you know your name?"

"... nom?" whispered the kid, pointing at himself.

"Y-yes, nom—your nom?"

After hesitating for a few seconds, the child pointed at himself again and mumbled, "... Léo."—he gulped—"Je suis Léo."

"It's okay," Raphael said kindly. "We won't hurt you, Léo." He brushed the boy's hair out of his face. "I am Raphael—J-je suis... Raphaël."

The child's eyes shone as he spoke his language. "Raph," he said.

"Are you hungry, Léo?" said Raph, a kind smile appeared on the Lord's face as the child started to salivate.

...

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