# Chapter 77
‘He’s going to… kill me already…?’
As Chepel gasped for breath, his fading vision met Ion’s golden eyes staring back at him. Could he possibly be planning to kill and resurrect him repeatedly?
‘Resurrect…?’
As if suddenly realizing something, the corners of Chepel’s eyes trembled.
“No… don’t…”
A metallic groan barely escaped his lips, but there was no escaping the shadow of death.
“Die quickly.”
Ion’s manic golden eyes radiated cold killing intent without restraint.
“So you can dedicate yourself to me.”
Another ability unique to Ion Verdit.
With dying eyes, Chepel looked up at the immortal soldiers standing around him, all with identical looks of loyalty.
When Chepel, who had stopped breathing once, opened his eyes again.
He was kneeling calmly before Ion, his appearance pristine without a single wound.
The conquest of Perid territory, including the baron’s mansion, happened in an instant.
“Your Grace, how should we deal with these men?”
Ion, who was about to mount his horse without pause, turned his head at Owen’s cautious question. His eyes fell on about thirty immortal soldiers kneeling on the ground with their heads bowed toward him.
“Come to think of it, you all moved on your own without my permission.”
Even without meeting Ion’s eyes, they could sense the cold gaze he was directing at them.
The kneeling immortal soldiers each wore intensely nervous expressions.
“…We apologize.”
Ion stood before the disobedient immortal soldiers, looking down at them coldly.
He could easily guess what they had been thinking when they came here behind his back. It was his own mistake for not preventing it beforehand, even though he should have anticipated this possibility from such loyal subordinates. Moreover, having been asleep like the dead for days to recover his abilities, he felt profound disappointment in himself.
Ion frowned at the bloodstains scattered across the place where the immortal soldiers had fought with Levi.
The tip of Ion’s foot stopped in front of one immortal soldier who had his head bowed.
“Where did your sword cut Levi?”
“…”
The immortal soldier could not lie to his lord.
The deep loyalty and brainwashing etched into their instincts played the biggest role in controlling and suppressing the immortal soldiers.
Killing intent overflowed from Ion’s gaze.
“Answer me.”
“His right arm…!”
The immortal soldier who had barely managed to begin his answer let out a silent groan from the extreme pain he felt in his right arm. With his face contorted in pain, unable to lift his head, the soldier gasped as a cold hand gripped his neck.
The immortal soldier, his head forced up by the hand on his neck, could only watch as his bright vision rapidly transformed into darkness.
Though he had been called an immortal soldier, the moment Ion’s left hand, bearing golden markings, wished for his life to end, he became a pale white corpse drained of all vitality. The immortal soldier, transformed as if into an ancient dried-up corpse, never moved again.
Ion released the stark white corpse, now completely devoid of life force, without any lingering attachment and turned his attention to the next immortal soldier.
“Where did you touch Levi?”
Ion’s chilling words made not only the kneeling soldiers but also the other immortal soldiers who were preparing to pursue Levi tremble with fear.
Soon after, when over thirty immortal soldiers lay strewn about as pale white corpses, each with different body parts severed, Chepel, now serving his new lord, could only watch him silently.
Owen handed the reins of a sturdy horse to Chepel.
“Use this horse. It’s not as fast as His Grace’s white steed, but it’s quick enough to follow closely behind him.”
Chepel stared blankly at Owen, who not only left him unbound but also freely handed him horse reins.
“What if I ride this horse and plunge a sword into his back? Why show such consideration?”
Having died once and been revived, Chepel was puzzled to see that Owen and the other immortal soldiers harbored no hostility toward him whatsoever. After all, before his death, he had obstructed their path and pointed his sword at Grand Duke Verdit.
Even at his threatening words, Owen’s calm gaze remained unchanged.
“We who have died once and become part of the Immortal Army through our lord’s power know, whether we like it or not. We can serve no one but him, nor can we harbor any other thoughts.”
Even if it was a harsh brainwashing inscribed through blood, those already dominated by the power of “immortality” could not betray Ion. It was a transaction with clearly defined give and take, worthy of being called a “devil’s contract” that ill-suited a holy one.
“No matter how you lived in your first life, now you are an immortal soldier like us.”
Owen’s eyes curved elegantly as he looked at Chepel, whose shoulder and neck wounds from being pierced by swords had completely healed.
“Our only lord is His Grace.”
Chepel could not argue with his words. Far from arguing, he found them completely natural.
In his mind, Emperor Raziel, who had once been his emperor, was still clearly imprinted. The debt of gratitude he owed for saving him when he was nearly dead and making him a close aide still occupied a large space in his mind, but the thought that all of it was merely “the past” was stacking up like a stone tower.
‘What a strange feeling.’
Just looking at Ion filled him with an odd sense of loyalty and fulfillment, making it impossible to turn away. A confidence rose within him that he could risk his life for anything, no matter how dangerous, if Ion desired it, and he felt he could go find his former lord and behead him without hesitation if Ion wished.
The blind devotion he had felt toward Raziel was now completely gone, and his vibrant eyes were consumed with the image of his new lord, for whom he would gladly sacrifice his life many times over.
“Chepel Lance.”
Ion, having personally dealt with the immortal soldiers who had been his subordinates but acted on their own due to misguided loyalty, called to Chepel as he mounted his noble white horse. Since Chepel was no longer a nobleman from another country but merely a member of the Immortal Army, the title “Count” seemed meaningless for him now.
As soon as Ion’s cold eyes turned toward him, Chepel bowed his head and awaited his command.
“Guide me to where Levi is.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The title “my lord” that came from his lips without hesitation in response to the expected command drove a wedge into Chepel’s complicated emotions.
In his mind, now controlled by his new lord, the face of Levi, whom Ion so desperately wanted, was clearly pictured.
Led by Chepel, Ion and his immortal soldiers fiercely rode toward the old castle of Retrouva, where Levi had headed.
❖ ❖ ❖
The old castle of Retrouva took the form of a fortress.
It had indeed served as a fortress effectively since the wars hundreds of years ago, but now it was merely a gloomy old castle due to its age. The old castle, which had not been used for war in years, was occasionally used by the current lord of Retrouva for ballrooms or salons.
The lord of Retrouva was a greedy man who adorned himself with all sorts of jewels and ornaments. As soon as he learned that the visitor who had come to him was the rather infamous Count Aden, he was quick to bow and scrape.
“You must be exhausted from your long journey. Oh my, you’re so injured… I’ll call for a renowned physician right away, so please don’t worry and rest well, Count.”
The lord of Retrouva, who had guided Levi to the old castle, left to personally summon a doctor.
Left alone in the splendid and spacious bedroom, Levi approached the window while clutching his side, which was still in considerable pain. All that could be seen around were mountains.
It was clear why Chepel had sent him to hide here.
This old castle was surrounded by high mountains, just as the Iron Fortress had been surrounded by hills. To reach the castle via proper roads, one would have to pass through the Talan territory with its formidable military strength and break through Retrouva’s defenses. Having crossed through the forest himself, Levi could attest that even the most capable knights would likely get lost unless they were familiar with mountains or forests.
‘I could escape from here through the forest to another territory.’
If Ion Verdit and his army pursued him here, he could still leisurely flee. But Levi had no intention of doing so when faced with Ion.
‘That man must be killed.’
If no one else, at least Ion Verdit had to be killed as soon as they met. Whether he tried to persuade him again, pretended to be affectionate, or pointed a sword at him, Levi had to kill him unconditionally. The number of times he had deceived him was now too numerous to count.
‘For Raziel’s sake, I must…’
His brother, who wanted to live, required Ion Verdit’s death as an absolute necessity. Even if he were to be cut to pieces by his soldiers, Levi firmly resolved to accomplish this with his own hands.
And two hours later.
Just as he had been ruminating, Levi truly came face to face with Ion Verdit.
