Taming the Dark Lord - Chapter 93

Chapter 93 – Fall of a God (1)

At an empty street, a cold breeze blew from all directions and emitted a hollow, airy sound, like that of a calm wind before the onslaught of a storm. Pieces of paper drifted through the wind as it continuously rolled on the pavement, which was smeared with droplets of blood.

A slender and tall black figure stood at the end of the street. His eyes fluttered close, and the tips of his pointed ears trembled as he listened to the cacophony of sounds that blended well together. However, he’s trying to make out one voice in particular but he couldn’t seem to hear it no matter how hard he tried to concentrate.

There was no trace of her. And the familiar scent he had picked up moments ago vanished as well.

Alfonso stood still, his eyes deep and calculating as a surge of emotions filled his mind in waves. His body was stiff as a marble sculpture; so intimidating in nature that his tentacle kept a distance. He wouldn’t dare come close to his master, especially how terrifying he appeared at this very moment, and opted to lie on the ground instead, shaking.

“Get over here.” Alfonso’s voice was cold as ice, making the tentacle tremble more vividly on his spot. It didn’t need to be told twice as the tentacle rolled its way towards his master.

Lying idly tucked on the corner was the black book, who bounced joyously as if it had been awakened from its slumber. It skipped at a rapid pace using its covers that bound it from the front and the back, and used the tentacle as a leverage to leap in front of the dark elf.

Thy respectable and amazing person, what is your command? The black book asked earnestly, like it was glad to be of service.

Alfonso’s face remained emotionless despite the book’s cheerful disposition. He squatted on his heels and brushed a slender fingertip on the track of small footprints stamped on the ground. He rubbed the dust with his thumb and index finger, hinting a bit of the familiar scent that somehow remained. “Where is she?”

The black book spun around happily. After you left, the Saint sat on the ground for a while. She had her legs crossed and had her chin propped on one hand. She then dropped her head like she was deep in thought, and she occasionally looked up at the skies…

Text written in an exquisite font appeared on the pages more rapidly, like it wanted to explain what had transpired after he left in full detail.

But the slight delay in response made Alfonso impatient. He frustratingly stomped on the black book the same way he did with his tentacle.  “Tell me, where is she?” He repeated with a sneer.

Oh, even the dust underneath the elf’s feet was as almighty as him…

Not wanting to rile the elf even further, the black book flashed a line and the ink quickly dissipated and turned into a moving map with a small block dot at the end. The dot was on the move towards a certain direction.

Alfonso picked the black book up. He studied the path where the dot was heading to and at the same time, the power beneath his feet was slowly igniting ready to pounce. He abruptly leapt up in the air and dashed where the black dot was currently at, moving so suddenly and with such tremendous speed that the tentacle was left behind on the ground whining and squeaking in protest.

*

Amelia had a sweet dream. In her dream, she was back to her previous life wherein she was shopping leisurely on the streets, holding a large cup of milk tea in one hand and two burgers in the other. It was a life like no other, and nothing could be more satisfying than that.

Here in this world where the staple food was white bread, being able to drink milk tea was a luxury in itself.

It was great to finally return after that terrifying experience of being in the western fantasy world, she thought. But before she could bask in that feeling completely, a cold sensation crept her back and a familiar scent enveloped her nostrils. She looked up, seeing a pair of eyes looking down on her with a ruthless smirk plastered on its face. It was the pitch-black face of the devil.

The white elf grabbed her by the neck like she was a mere kitten and wrapped his fingers around her throat. He leaned close to her ears and breathed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Amelia then jolted from her sleep. Eyes wide and chest heaving in staggered breaths, she saw a dilapidated golden dome above her head. The carvings were etched exquisitely and it appeared to be expensive. The thick layer of dust covered the soft womanly face on the murals walls, and the white pair of wings behind it was the only thing that could be vaguely seen.

Where am I?

Amelia was caught off guard. She blinked her misty blue eyes and saw a grinning face looking down at her with sheer contempt. She gasped audibly.

“Oh, you’re awake already. You slept really well.” Light, the white elf, uttered with a sigh.