"Who exactly are you waiting for?"
"What are you trying to do?"
The ministers all glared at Asa, shouting angrily.
"I've already said, I'm waiting for someone who can explain everything clearly. Don't worry; it won't take long," Asa replied calmly.
No one dared to act rashly. His hands still rested on the necks of the Prime Minister and the Empress. Judging by his displayed strength, and with two prominent figures serving as his shields, it was impossible for anyone to save them without risking their safety. The ministers couldn't understand why he would take hostage the two people who had been speaking in his defense, but they knew one thing for certain: the Empress and the Prime Minister must not be harmed under any circumstances.
Rodhart and Jarvis, however, knew the truth. They understood that Asa would never harm the two, yet even they couldn't act.
Even with that knowledge, they couldn't show indifference. This palace wasn't a place where they could act entirely as they wished. The other officials present were all fiercely loyal to the empire, and though Rodhart and Jarvis could command the Holy Knights, it didn't mean the knights were merely tools for their personal use. The knights obeyed them because of their titles—one being a revered cardinal, and the other a dedicated acting commander of the Holy Knights. If they acted in ways contrary to these roles, their influence would evaporate instantly.
Asa's actions were, of course, aimed at exploiting this exact point. Though unconventional, his strategy was practical and effective—the best method given the circumstances.
"I didn't expect you to use such a tactic... I must admit, you're smarter than I thought," Jarvis said slowly, his eyes growing colder and more menacing, a faint glint of frost flickering within. Though the situation remained under control, he began sensing an unsettling shift, a deviation from his expectations. This foreboding made him increasingly tense.
"Smarter than you thought?" Asa looked at the cardinal and chuckled. "Do you really believe everything is still under your control? Let me tell you: this deadlock is already broken."
He turned toward the ministers, smiling slightly. "Rest assured, as long as no one acts recklessly, the Empress and Prime Minister will remain unharmed. I just need everyone to wait—a few hours at most, perhaps even less. I promise they'll walk away safe and sound."
The air around the cardinal seemed to chill, as if countless icy needles had suddenly erupted from his body, slicing and colliding in an invisible, chaotic battle.
"Wait? For whom? Reinforcements? That's impossible," Jarvis sneered, though his smile was rigid and sharp. It took great effort to suppress the murderous aura surging within him. The confidence and calm on Asa's face were unbearable, as if the man's strength and composure overshadowed his own entirely.
"People who think they have everything under control usually don't end well—have you forgotten that?" Asa replied with an air of indifference.
Jarvis' eyes twitched, and his hand jerked nervously. He felt a long-dormant impulse of violent rage surge in his chest, a desire to immediately charge forward and smash that calm, self-assured face with a punch, disregarding everything else.
However, he quickly realized that this impulse was something he only experienced when he was still in his former identity. Since acquiring his current position and name, he should have long since surpassed and discarded his past, yet now it was resurfacing. And all of this was because of the person standing before him.
An even greater and more overwhelming anger and killing intent suddenly swept over him, nearly driving him out of control. This was a desperate, hysterical desire to kill, born from fear and terror.
Hadn't I already defeated you completely? How is it that you're here again? And you're mocking me with that calm expression? Why do I still feel that uncontrollable urge, like I'm being belittled again? Is it because I sense that you're standing above me once more? No, absolutely not, this cannot happen.
When someone believes they have long surpassed their past self and looks down on that version of themselves, only to suddenly realize they are being pulled back into that very state they despised, the terror and fury they experience is far greater, more uncontrollable, than anything they would feel facing a new situation.
"Don't let him keep stalling. Give the squad captains and mages the order—on my signal, attack. He won't dare harm them," Jarvis whispered to Rodhart, his voice trembling with agitation.
Rodhart shook his head slightly and replied softly, "What if he really uses them as shields? Even if we believe he won't harm them, the squad captains might think differently. If it were my mentor here giving the orders, they'd follow without hesitation. But in this situation, they might hesitate… we might not be able to control them."
"Some will act. That's enough to force him to let go of them," Jarvis insisted.
"And if we act recklessly and harm them in the process? Even if we succeed, the ministers will grow wary of us. More critically, if the Holy Knights start doubting us, we'll lose our advantage entirely. Since you said Sandru is dead, and the Emperor and my mentor are out of the picture for now, why not—"
"Just do it!" Jarvis's voice cracked as he lost control, his face contorted with an unfamiliar mix of rage and desperation. His outburst drew startled looks from the ministers and knights around him.
Rodhart, though initially stunned, soon regained his composure. Without a word, he nodded slowly.
"Are you planning to order a direct assault, Cardinal? Do you not care for the safety of the Prime Minister and the Empress?" Asa asked, raising an eyebrow at Jarvis's evident instability. This behavior seemed out of character for the cardinal.
"You won't harm them. I know that," Jarvis growled, snatching a longsword from a nearby knight. A radiant white glow enveloped the blade, and his injuries seemed nearly healed in the short span of time. His smile was laced with fury, and his sword pulsed with raw, unrestrained energy.
The ministers shouted in panic, "Cardinal, stop! Please reconsider!"
Asa frowned, gazing at the increasingly unhinged cardinal. "And how are you so sure I won't harm them? Have you forgotten I'm the continent's most wanted criminal? The 'demon' who's slaughtered countless lives? Or is it because you know something the rest don't? Perhaps… it's because you yourself—"
Jarvis didn't let him finish. The cardinal's sword surged forward, releasing a torrent of energy like a raging river breaking through a dam. The destructive force was overwhelming, leaving Asa no choice but to face it head-on.
But just as Jarvis's sword struck, four other sword lights appeared from different directions, intercepting his attack mid-flight.
The sudden clash of sword energies created a chaotic burst of force before dissipating. The four swords belonged to squad captains of the Holy Knights, whose precise and coordinated strikes neutralized Jarvis's overwhelming attack.
The squad captains exchanged stunned glances. They recognized the swordsmanship—they had seen it before. Though the technique's aura and execution differed, the underlying essence was unmistakable.
"Cardinal, please, calm yourself," General Thomas and Minister Jensen shouted. The murderous intent in Jarvis's previous strike was palpable—even a layman could feel it. If that attack had landed, the Prime Minister and Empress would've been the first casualties.
The confrontation left Jarvis seething with suppressed rage, his hand instinctively reaching into his robe. His voice, thick with fury, spat out each word like molten lava: "There's no need to wait any longer…"
"Indeed, there's no need to wait," a new voice interjected.
Jarvis froze. His hand stopped mid-motion, and even the firestorm of rage within him was snuffed out in an instant.
It was the voice of an old man, and there was an unmistakable weariness to it. If one only heard the voice, it would be hard to raise any suspicion or hostility. However, it was precisely this voice that caused Jarvis' movements and heart to freeze simultaneously.
Everyone's attention was drawn to the entrance of the hall. A huge, bizarre creature was unfolding its massive wings and descending from the sky, and the voice came from this creature.
Indeed, it was something very strange. From its appearance, it seemed like some sort of flying animal, perhaps a bat or a bird, but anyone could see that it was not a living creature. Its body was entirely made of flesh, bones, skin, and feathers, but these parts were all fused together in a chaotic way, as though many animals had been melted down and poured into a mold, their forms merged in an unknown manner. While the creature's aura was not particularly strong, the faint stench of decay and the eerie magical aura that emanated from it still revealed its true nature.
Such a monster could not possibly speak, but the one speaking was an old man sitting atop it. The old man was dressed in simple priestly robes, with only a golden skull mask covering his face.
Everyone was silent, and the enormous hall was eerily quiet, as if the people within had forgotten to even breathe. But their silence, shock, and astonishment were not merely due to the monster or the old man wearing the skull mask. In truth, the combination of these two things alone was enough to make most people forget to breathe. However, what truly made the knights of the Holy Order hold their breath in fear was something far more terrifying.
On top of the grotesque creature made of corpses, beside the old man who appeared to be a necromancer, were none other than Commander Roland and the Emperor himself. Though their expressions varied, it was obvious to everyone that they were neither being held hostage nor controlled but were actually aligned with the necromancer.