The Demon King's Hero Of Light - BestLightNovel.com
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"Bridgette?" called Aella, looking around.
"Coming!" cried Bridgette, a wide grin of delight plastered on her face as she bounced out from the middle of a stack of books.
"I'm going to teleport above the training fields so you need to get on my back," said Aella, turning around for Bridgette to climb on. "You can point to where I need to go or tell me."
"This is so exciting!" squealed Bridgette, climbing onto her back. "I never thought I could rob a library!"
Floating above the floor, so Bridgette would get a feel for how it would be, Aella teleported above the training grounds. The stars were out, and the moon hung low on the horizon. They could barely see debris still laying on the grounds where so many kids had been standing before.
"I wonder why they haven't cleaned all of that up yet?" wondered Bridgette in Aella's ear. "We want to go to the diamond shaped windows on the northern section of the castle."
Aella teleported over near them, flying up close enough to the windows to see inside. Spotting a group of three people cl.u.s.tered around a table, she quickly moved to the side, so as not to be noticed.
"What are the church leaders doing at this time of night?" muttered Bridgette. "If we teleport in next to that bookshelf in the back, I can probably put the books into the magical bag you have without making enough noise to draw their attention."
"The one against the wall?" asked Aella, peeking into the window again to make sure she could see where Bridgette was talking about.
"Yea."
Teleporting in, Aella set Bridgette down and handed her the bag. She could hear the leaders of the church talking across the library in soft whispers, and really wanted to hear what they were saying, so she left Bridgette and teleported to just behind the first bookshelf from them.
"Because we've lost so many Hero Prospects, we will have to go door to door across the entire country in order to test everyone," said one man with a gravelly voice.
"Do we know how many we've lost so far?" asked another with a high-pitched voice.
"No. So many were lost, we still haven't completely cleaned everything up. Thankfully the cold has slowed the decay, but it might be spring before we've managed to bury them all," said another with a low wobbly voice.
"How can we not have finished with all of the bodies yet?" asked the gravelly voice.
"We lost almost everyone still here at the church. None of those who left with the relocated children wanted to come back," explained the high-pitched man.
"That's ridiculous, but something more pressing needs our attention," said the wobbly voiced man. "Our Heroes haven't returned, or managed to kill that infernal Demon King. We have to face the facts that they may be captured and in the dungeon there."
"How is that more pressing than the deaths of most of our acolytes? Without those kids, we don't have a future here at the church!" exclaimed the gravelly voice, rising almost to a shout.
"Calm down, Father. We all agree that the deaths of our children are a horrible issue. The missing Heroes is also a calamity, but I feel we need to be aware of another problem," said the high-pitched man.
"What could be more important than getting more kids? I think we may need to declare an emergency, and have testing mandatory in every town across the land," snarled the gravelly voice.
"Perhaps," said the wobbly voice. "But without our Heroes, we have no power to enforce anything. All of our spies have failed at getting around this blasted wall and there haven't been any messages from the demon palace or from the northern portal. The southern portal sent a report that arrived last week saying the portal isn't working anymore."
"The portals not working, are probably related to the stupidity of releasing the storm elemental! I said it was a horrible idea! We will need to sacrifice dozens of hero prospects to get enough magic ama.s.sed to reseal it!" complained the gravelly voiced man.
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"Fathers!" cried the high-pitched man, slapping his hands on the table to get their attention. "I have a problem that is far more pressing than the Heroes or the children!"
"Then what is it?" asked the wobbly voiced man.
"The people are threatening to revolt because of the food shortage and a nasty disease is raging along the coast," the high-pitched man said softly.
"The food issue ties directly into the issue with the storm elemental!" growled the gravelly man.
"Wait, how bad is this disease?" asked the wobbly man.
"It sounds very bad. The report I received this morning said that people are dying left and right. None of the healers seem able to handle it with anything other than magic. The very young and the very old are falling like raindrops," said the high-pitched man, as paper crinkled in his hands.
"What are the symptoms? Is it something we've dealt with before?" asked the gravelly man.
A noise behind Aella, probably of Bridgette dropping a book, rang out in the library, but the men were too intent on their discussion to note it.
"The report says that the victims grow huge black boils all over their bodies, that weep nasty puss, and they generally die within the day after these boils appear. Before they show, the victims claim to have coughing and difficulty breathing," read the high-pitched man.
"That sounds horrid. Perhaps we should put off all decisions until this sickness runs its course? I'm thinking we retire to our estates in the north and leave the church to fend for itself until next year," said the wobbly voiced man.
"That may not be a bad idea," agreed the gravelly man. "We can make plans to rebuild and gather new children next summer, once this illness goes away."
There was another noise, of Bridgette sc.r.a.ping the bag along the floor, and the men noticed it this time.
"Did you hear something?" asked the wobbly voiced man.
"I think I've been hearing something off and on," agreed the gravelly voice.
"What do you think it is?" asked the high-pitched man.
"Probably nothing," said the gravelly man. "This place is old. There's no telling what noises we hear and don't think anything of."
"You're probably right," agreed the high-pitched man.
"You don't think it's ghosts, do you?" asked the wobbly man, his voice picking up even more of a wobble.
"Don't be daft. It's nothing but a rodent. I imagine it's building a nest in some books around here. Every since we sent away that nosy Sage, no one comes in here," said the gravelly man.
"Should we send word to the various n.o.bles that we are taking a period of time for prayer after the calamity and loss of life?" asked the high-pitched man, obviously trying to get back on topic.
"That may not be a bad idea. Be sure to send one to those in charge of the students we sent on to the next training locations. They need to be aware that the church here is being left untended so they don't try to return for some reason," said the gravelly man.
"There! I heard it again!" exclaimed the wobbly man, even though there wasn't another sound from Bridgette. "It has to be ghosts! The poor souls of all those who were killed and enraged that we haven't laid their bodies to rest!"
"Father Sebastion, get ahold of yourself!" demanded the gravelly man.
"Oh! Father Sterling! What are we going to do!" whined the wobbly voiced man.
"We are going to go pack our things and prepare our horses to leave first thing in the morning. The staff that's left will just have to fend for themselves. If we travel light, and dress like common folk, we should be able to get past any angry crowds," said the gravelly man.
"I'll have the letters prepared and sent out tonight," said the high-pitched man.
Aella had heard enough. These men were more corrupt than some of her n.o.bles. All they cared about was themselves. Instead of being the leaders they should be and trying to take care of the sickness that was raging across their lands, or dealing with the lack of food, they were going to run away and hide. She could help them hide; forever.
Teleporting near the door they were hurrying towards, she formed a black sword from her right hand and floated down in front of them, allowing her cloak to billow around her, as if in a gentle breeze.
"You would leave so soon?" she asked in as deep a voice as she could muster.
"AHH!" screamed the wobbly man, his many chins shaking as he threw himself at the old, grey-haired man beside him. "IT'S A GHOST!"
"Nonsense!" declared the old, gravelly man as he pushed the fat wobbly man away.
The skinny and young man in the back turned and took off running towards the table.
Throwing her sword, it impaled him, sending him sliding across the floor and under the table. Turning to the two in front of her, she held up her sword, after it had returned to her, and growled.
The two stepped back, fear forming on the gravelly man's face as he realized this creature was capable of killing them.
"Perhaps you would like to make a deal?" he asked, his fearful eyes narrowing. "You're from that Demon King, aren't you!"
"DEAL?!" screamed the fat man, his wobbly voice becoming even more p.r.o.nounced. "f.u.c.k THAT!"
As he turned to run, Aella slashed out with the sword, making its blade grow longer, and cut off his head. The old man shuffled back, to keep the fat man's blood from splattering him.
"I will tell you anything you want, if you spare me!" he cried, his gravelly voice growing shrill in panic.
"Start talking and I'll decide if it's worth your life," she purred.