No one said a word, confounded on how to take the essence of the happenings. They were incapable of processing several novel bits of intelligence that bombarded their minds.
The four individuals, who caved-in to the Emperor's whim and quietly observed their allies' throes, were bereft of anything to say. The facts concerning the advent of another Demon Noble, the improved scrolls, and invocatory verses hardly earned their reactions. However, when they saw Khamael's wrecked figure, the knights couldn't help but quiver in chagrin of their uselessness. Though, it instantly altered to ire as soon as the subject of necromancy was brought up.
Then and there, their vision was cut-off subsequent to Sarakiel losing consciousness.
'There are too many variables at work. I doubt that the Emperor foresaw all of their inclusion.' Iophiel was rational in his deliberation, abstaining from conceiving of accusatory remarks.
Thankfully, someone had the guts to present their doubts.
"Your Majesty, you are not a cohort of those Demon Nobles or Angels, are you?" As simple-minded as he was, Jibrail catechized the Emperor of what everyone desired to clear up.
They refused to indict the Emperor as the culprit behind all this farce. Thus, they ought to be solaced with a clarification. At that point, their expectations were satisfied past the acceptable.
It was not a matter of being prepared or not. Even if his visage and tone of voice was deviously serene, the hysteria seen on the Emperor's murky eyes sent shivers down their spines.
"Why would I be? I am as aggravated as the lot of you are."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The occasional rustling of the leaves swayed by the gentle breeze; crashing waves on the sandy shores; the sound of nature was eventually restored upon the Angel's departure. Added to that was the evenly spaced respiration of three men.
Might it be an animal or a tribe member, the dwellers of the island were not spared by the adversaries that went wild. Withal, the enemies themselves were eradicated. Furthermore, the Angels made sure to erase the seals that the Demon Nobles integrated in the land. The main function of the seals was to mark an area as a Demon's territory, making it difficult to infiltrate for humans, so the knights were more than grateful for the Angels' help.
Ikdes obtained a degree of peace that it never had ere.
Since the ambient was tranquil, Mikhail deemed that it would be fine for his party to seek relaxation on the island a little longer. In any case, his companions were still asleep, and he had to gather ample mana to conjure a gate anyway.
'It's the perfect opportunity to sort out my thoughts.'
He sat on the ground and leaned on a tree, cut in half by the storm brought by the Angels' descent.
'Two hours, approximately two hours ago have passed après our arrival in this isle. Our sole mission was to eliminate a Demon Noble that our intelligence agent discovered early in the dier. That same agent raised the gate for our travel, then we permitted that person to exit this place.'
Gates are established through the mutual agreement of the conjurers on the two ends. Nevertheless, if the gate can't sense the mana of its conjurer, the portal will disappear in seconds. Some artefacts could preserve the activation of the gates, but they are reserved for the official use of the Empire.
'We went undercover, along with battling Demons and monsters, for an hour before our concealment was blown. The fight with Malphas ensued.'
Mikhail was exhausted overall of recollecting so many events that developed within a brief span of time.
'Once I received the Emperor's message via the spirit link, I decamped the shore and opened a gate for Sarakiel. The rest was chaos.'
The commander was dallying in the blaming game, unable to forgive himself. He remembered all the remarks that he made, conclusions he came up with, and rash actions that turned into perilous situations which endangered the three of them.
'I was defeated. What a bogus of a commander I am. I even abandoned Khamael on the battlefield. The surge of emotions prevented me from thinking straight. That damn Emperor left us in the dark. He knew that there would be another Demon Noble, yet was furtive in providing us with that admonition. How can I not be outraged? Who would feel elated with the idea of turning your relative into an undead? He disliked the idea the most but forced me to do it, f*cking hypocrite.'
Mikhail ran his right hand on his head, ruffling his dishevelled hair. He planned to decompress. Withal, his rumination panned out to be nowise short of disturbing.
'Come to think of it, didn't Sarakiel give me a note that he presumably picked up? Who would trouble themselves by leaving a stupid note?'
Sarakiel abruptly curled up as if to protect his body from the chilly Nasha air. After all, they were staying inside the part of the forest that proximate the sea. The temperature is bound to be abnormally cold.
The coat that was draped over the Duke fell off, so Mikhail fixed it, sitting back down when he was done.
'It is possible that Sarakiel fabricated that chance story for the reason that it was a note written by the Emperor to make me use the scroll. However, that's too unsophisticated for that shrewd Emperor. The more plausible conclusion, according to my instinct, is that the same entity that Rehael was talking about was the one who left the note. Now, I'm getting curious about their identity. A being that strong will be reassuring as an ally, though frightful of an enemy.'
Mikhail stared at Khamael who was sleeping peacefully. He suddenly felt lethargic, sleep was pulling him in. The knight decided to succumb to his dizziness. Sadly for him, Sarakiel woke up with a scream.
"Monkey!"
Percival groaned, startled by the howl.
"You're awake."
"Lord Percival!" Sarakiel sprinted towards his commander and vigorously shook the latter's shoulders.
"How did it go?! Where are the Demon Nobles?!"
Duke Helian continuously rocked Mikhail. The latter felt a headache comparable to being banged with a hammer from the interior of his skull. He gripped the lad's arms, wailing inaudibly to put a halt on the act.
"You know, you can stop rocking me back and forth."
Tragically, Sarakiel now floundered Mikhail's body side-to-side.
"I'm begging you, My Lord. Tell me! I collapsed, right? Right?! What happened after that? Why am I not dead yet? Don't tell me..."
The Duke eventually ceased in wobbling Mikhail, who ceded control of his body from the languidness that hit him. Sarakiel then covered his gaping mouth with both of his hands, terror flooding the glints on his eyes.