The Damned Demon Chapter 494 Half The Man

Chapter 494 Half The Man

On the cold fringes of the Bloodburn Kingdom, where the land itself bore the scars of endless conflicts of nature, a young man crawled towards the monumental gates that marked the northern border.

His journey, marked by every labored step, depicted a scene of desperation and decay, dragging his broken and tattered body through the harsh, dirty, and crude ground.

Pale skin stretched over jutting bones, and eyes, dark red, burned with a feeble flame of life against his otherwise deathly visage.

Clad in nothing but black rags and the remnants of his dignity, his body was a symbol of suffering—each scar, laceration, and barely healed wound a mirror to the horrors he had endured for what felt like years even though in reality only two weeks had passed ever since he left on that dreadful journey.

Dirt and dried blood masked his true appearance, cloaking him in the guise of a beggar, a ghost of the man he once was.

Hunger gnawed at him, a constant companion on his harrowing journey, yet the drive to reach the safety of home, to be reunited with his mother, spurred him onwards.

Her kind face and the cold warmth of her body were the only things pushing him forward.

It was a race against his own failing body, a desperate bid for salvation within the walls where should be waiting for him.

He had no idea how he got here. One second he was lying on some cart that was leaving the Draconis Kingdom. One second he was being dragged through the middle of nowhere. And now, he found himself close to home miraculously.

“Stop right there!”

The guards of the Bloodburn Kingdom, vigilant sentinels of their domain, suddenly encircled him with a precision born of suspicion and duty.

Their weapons, gleaming under the unforgiving sun, were pointed at him—a silent, deadly threat to the intruder who dared approach their gates in such a pathetic and pitiable yet suspicious state.

The emblem emblazoned on their armor, a symbol of the kingdom’s strength and resolve, offered no comfort to Oberon.

Instead, it served as a stark reminder of that fucking monster who was the king of this kingdom now.

“I…I…” With the last vestiges of his strength, Oberon sought to plead his case, to invoke the name of his lineage, to claim his royal right to sanctuary.

But his body, pushed beyond its limits, betrayed him. A groan, miserable and weak, was all he managed before the ground rushed up to meet him, his consciousness fading as he collapsed into the dust.

—

The Bloodwing Mansion, a domain usually shrouded in a cold silence, was now a hive of frenzied activity, its hallowed halls echoing with the rush of feet and urgent whispers.

The air was thick with tension, a palpable force that seemed to suffocate the very essence of calm from the surroundings.

Amidst this orchestrated chaos, physicians and servants weaved a delicate dance of life and healing, their movements reflecting the urgency of their task.

“All of you better make sure every inch of my son’s body is healed or all of you will pay dearly for your negligence!” The command, issued by Rebecca, resonated like a spell of fear, wrapping its icy fingers around the hearts of the physicians and servants present in the room.

Her voice, though cold, bore the weight of unspoken threats and desperate hope, her presence imposing and unyielding as she oversaw the healing of her son.

Swathed in bandages, he lay on the bed, a silent witness to the tumult of concern and activity that surrounded him.

The physicians, their brows beaded with sweat, felt the weight of their responsibility as if it were a physical burden.

The chilling gaze of the Princess Consort served as a stark reminder of the consequences of failure, their lives dangling precariously on the edge of her patience.

Rebecca was barely containing her resentment and rage boiling within her chest after seeing the condition Oberon was found outside the borders.

At first, she was elated and knew she guessed right about Asher and Lysandra having a thing between them.

Otherwise, why would that draconian bitch comply with Asher’s order to release Oberon without any trouble?

But one of the things that infuriated her the most was how that bitch spread rumors of Oberon escaping by distracting a draconian guard by giving him a…little manly favor and stealing the keys to the dungeon to escape.

How disgraceful and insulting!

Yet all this she swallowed since at least Oberon was back alive. But the moment she saw how he was brought in, made her heart falter in pain.

It was obvious they gave him something to suppress his natural healing process so that his wounds wouldn’t heal properly.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of torture they made him endure, nor could she bring herself to ask Oberon even if he woke up since she didn’t want him to relieve those traumatizing memories.

And so, all she could do now was personally watch these physicians and make sure they healed her son until he didn’t even have a scar left on his body.

But suddenly, the head physician approached her and deeply bowed, his expression frightened, as he mumbled, “Your Highness…we…”

“Spit it out…now,” Rebecca muttered while her heart began to pound in apprehension.

“We are trying our best to heal him, and he will definitely wake up soon, but…I am afraid his right arm and his left leg have been completely…crippled,” The head physician weakly said while wincing in terror.

Rebecca’s heart lurched for a moment as she felt a sinking sensation in her chest.

“What did you just say?! Crippled? What does that mean exactly?!” She demanded in a chilling, cold voice, her eyes quivering with a frightening intensity.

“It means…two of his limbs are dead. T-The draconians have destroyed every nerve endings and mana circuit in those parts to make it permanent,” The head physician explained, his back still bent hard.

“Are you trying to say that my son…can’t live normally or even use his weapon to fight properly like before?” Rebecca asked as her voice cracked while the temperature in the room began to dangerously drop until the others began to shiver.

“I-I am afraid…that’s how it is. I deeply apologize,” The head physician said as he dropped to his knees while the others watched with terror-stricken expressions.

Rebecca only became even more infuriated upon hearing his empty apology, “Just die, you worthless thing!” Saying so, she raised her arm to strike him down.

“Calm down, Rebecca. It’s not their fault.”

Into this storm of fear and determination stepped Seron, his voice calm in the storm, his presence soothing the tension in the room and making the ones present feel a slight amount of relief, knowing that their Master was of good nature, unlike their Mistress. n0ve(l)bi(n.)co/m

The head physician let out a sigh of relief after having a close shave with death.

Rebecca’s response was swift, her disdain palpable as she turned her frosty glare upon him.

“Scaring them will only make their hands tremble more and impede Oberon’s recovery. Just calm down and let them do their duty,” Seron advised, his voice low as he stood near her.

Rebecca’s frown deepened, her response a cold rebuke that cut deeper than the chilliest of winds, “You don’t get to wander in here and advise me what to do and what not to do. I am the one who got him back with painstaking efforts you can’t ever imagine. Not you, who abandoned him. If only you had acted earlier and helped me, he wouldn’t end up half the man I knew! So get out…and smother your favorite son with your concern.”

Seron, momentarily taken aback by the ferocity of her rebuke, found himself at a loss for words.

His features sharpened as he finally spoke, “I tried to love him and give him everything I have, considering what you asked of me when we married. But you twisted him and turned him into…this, and I had enough of it. So I am going to do what you want since you seem to know what’s best for him.”

Rebecca’s eyes became incensed, “You-” But before she could say anything, Seron walked away, and she stopped herself from shouting anything that shouldn’t be heard by the others standing in the room.

After hours that stretched into an eternity of worry and vigil, Rebecca was informed by the weary and nervous physicians that Oberon had been healed to the point of being able to speak, with his body’s natural recuperative powers expected to continue the healing process over time.

But, of course, he would still end up being half-crippled.

This news was a balm to her anxious heart and a wound to her soul.

Without hesitation, she dismissed the physicians and servants, their exit a quiet exodus that left mother and son in a bubble of solemn intimacy.

The room fell into a profound silence, broken only by Oberon’s weak, muffled voice. “M-Mother…?…” His call, faint and unsure, was a beacon to Rebecca, drawing her to his side with a rush of emotions.

“My dear son! I am here!” The relief and love in her voice enveloped Oberon, her presence by his bed a reassurance he had scarcely dared to hope for.

Oberon’s vision cleared up and upon seeing his mother’s beautiful face and her heart melting smile, he began to tear up, wondering if he was dreaming or not, “Are you…really here?” His question, hoarse and laden with disbelief, sought confirmation of this tender reality.

“You are safe, my baby boy. Mother will now protect you and will never let anybody hurt you again. I promise you,” Rebecca affirmed, her fierce determination shining in her eyes as she caressed his bandaged face, offering solace and strength with her touch.

Oberon’s heart, burdened with the shadows of his ordeal, found solace in her words, a sense of safety he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes.

Yet, as the fog of his recent past began to clear, he found gaps in his memory, pieces of time lost to darkness, “I…I know I was imprisoned by the draconians, but I can’t…remember what happened during those days.”

“It is for the best. You don’t have to remember all that,” she reassured firmly, keeping from him the bitter truth that she had arranged for his traumatic memories to be erased, a mercy to spare him from reliving the agonies that served no purpose but to wound him further.

But while erasing those memories, she also came to know how Asher tortured her son to his heart’s content during their journey.

Just thinking about it again made her fangs extend and cut her own lips.

Oberon, his spirit kindling with a mix of confusion and nascent anger, spoke of betrayal, “That fucking fiend…He left me to get torn apart by those draconians…” His words trembled with a rage that spoke of deep-seated resentment and hatred.

“I will deal with him. You don’t go anywhere near him. He isn’t going to hurt you anymore. I have made sure of it,” Rebecca’s voice sliced through the air, her tone sharp and unwavering, though her eyes flickered with shame for a brief second, unable to meet his eyes in that moment.

Oberon, puzzled yet comforted by her assurance, suddenly caught sight of the black choker necklace adorning her neck, an unfamiliar adornment that seemed out of place, “W-What is that? When did you start wearing such things?” His curiosity was piqued by the unusual piece since he had never seen her wearing any such jewelry or accessory, and it didn’t seem like her style.

But he had no idea of the sudden surge of nervousness and tension his question had caused his mother, who held her breath as she unconsciously touched the harmless-looking choker on her neck.