Chapter 273 - An Unexpected Helper (2)

Chapter 273 - An Unexpected Helper (2)

At Herabola’s stern reply, Henry asked in a cold tone, “Are you serious?”

Herabola burst into laughter and said, “Of course not, haha! Even though I’m already dead, I’ll die a second time if that means I can mess with you some more, hehe.”

“...It was a bad joke.”

Herabola’s joke might’ve worked under normal circumstances, but given the urgency of the current situation, Henry was not amused in the slightest.

Noticing this, Herabola tried to get Henry to relax.

“You seem rather tense, Henry. Try to loosen up a bit,” said Herabola in a soft voice. “This might be my lair, over which I have complete authority, but that doesn’t mean I’ll treat you badly, does it? We’re good old friends after all, right?”

“Indeed, we were such friends in my previous life. But now we’re secret friends, and nobody else can know about us, right?”

“Secret friends, huh... That’s a good way to put it.”

Since Henry’s soul was revealed here, in the Tomb of Souls, in its true, past form, Herabola had to essentially be a god in this place, just like Herarion had said.

‘That must be why you knew exactly what I was thinking.’

Henry finished collecting his thoughts in the meantime. The most uptodate novels are published on n0velbj)n((.))co/m

Of course, Herabola also had time to gather his thoughts and come up with ideas for the current situation, but Henry knew that Herabola wasn’t the type of dry person who talked to his friends like they were his business partners.

So, at Herabola’s words, Henry finally relaxed a little.

“The situation is bad,” said Herabola.

“It’s not just bad, it’s terrible.”

“You’re going through a lot of trouble because of my incompetent son. That’s why I’ve always told him to learn how to use a sword, but he never listened to me, and now he’s finally learning when I’m already dead.”

“He does take action only after the water has already spilled, but your son is not as foolish as you think.”

“No, he is foolish. My father and I were foolish too, but he’s far worse than me.”

It wasn’t uncommon for a brilliant father to reprimand his lesser son or to rant about him in front of his friends. However, this also showed how comfortable Herabola was with Henry. If he didn't consider Henry a true friend, Herabola wouldn’t be ranting about his son like this in front of him.

The two continued their friendly chatter for a while.

“It’s been a while since I’ve talked this much. This is nice,” added Herabola.

“You must’ve been very lonely.”

“I’m with my father, so it’s not that bad.”

“Father? I assume you’re talking about Hedajaon I. Where is he now?”

“He’s watching his grandson of course.”

“Grandson? I thought you said Herarion was being punished earlier?”

“I’m sure my father will scold him on my behalf. He’s one stern man alright.”

Henry had been told that there were two souls resting in the Khan’s Eye, so he had wondered why he could only see Herabola, but now it all made sense.

“But Father still likes his grandson, so I’m sure he won’t be too harsh on him, but... Aside from the grandfather and grandson reunion, we’re adults, so shouldn’t we be talking about the things my son has royally screwed up?”

“What do you mean, your son screwed up? All of this is Arthus’ fault, not your son’s.”

“Of course, all of this started with Arthus. If he hadn’t coveted Janus’ power in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. My son did a great job stopping Benedict’s rebellion, so I can’t believe that it was his inability to control a woman that marked his downfall.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been dying to tell you this. On the day that Herarion entered Janus’ temple with the queen, Arthus contacted Janus through Selene.”

“Through Selene? What do you mean?”

“That’s... You guys probably didn’t know, but Arthus performed some kind of strange trick on Selene. Arthus and Janus were then able to communicate through Selene when she entered the temple. And seeing Arthus’ ambition, Janus decided to give him a chance.”

Herabola told Henry all that he had seen from the Khan’s Eye.

Henry was baffled by this story.

“I can’t believe that’s how he got this power...!”

“What did you do just now?” Henry asked, slightly confused.

“Check your pockets when you wake up. Everything will be in there.”

“You really are almighty, you know?”

“Of course! I’m basically a god here, so keep your promise that you’ll return all the divine objects when you're done. They might not mean much to you, but these divine objects are a treasure in my kingdom.”

“Of course. In return for you lending me the objects, I’ll make sure to get the job done.”

“As you should.”

Everything went quickly and smoothly. Herabola was supportive of Henry because the Archmage would then feel indebted to take good care of his son. Arthus had destroyed the Shahatra kingdom, and Herarion would never be able to avenge or rebuild it by himself.

Having finished his business, Henry said, “Then can you let me outside?”

“Oh, how can you be so cold? You’re leaving like that as soon as you get what you want? It’s like you’ve been waiting all this time to get out of here.”

“You know I’m in a hurry... I’ve only got a month at most.”

“Father said he wants to spend more time with his grandson, so let’s have a cup of tea. Plus, I have more to tell you.”

“More things to tell me?”

“Yeah.”

Herabola piqued Henry’s curiosity once again, thus convincing him to stay for a bit longer. The former emperor waved his hand, and a table appeared between them.

Henry sat down and asked, “What do you have to tell me?”

“I have a lot to tell you, but before I do, don’t you have more questions to ask me?”

“Questions...? You don’t mean...?”

“Yeah, this is your only chance to ask. You don’t know if you’ll get to see me again if you come back.”

Herabola was being quite sneaky, managing to stir Henry’s curiosity even more.

Henry’s face broke into a wide grin. He felt like a child who just received a bag full of gifts from out of nowhere.

“I don’t know how long my father will stay with Herarion, so you better hurry,” said Herabola.

“You don’t need to rush me. I was going to ask you now anyway. First of all, you said you know everything that’s been going on in Shahatra, so you must understand what I’m about to ask. Do you know how I was able to take down the apostle?”

“What do you mean?”

“Arthus and his apostles all have divine power, and I managed to kill one of them, but when I faced Arthus, none of my attacks worked on him, and he laughed in my face before escaping. I don’t worship any gods, so something doesn’t add up.”

“So... You mean to say that you don’t have divine powers?”

“That’s right. From what I understand, one can only gain divine power if they have faith in a god.”

“Right, but you’re different. Henry, even though you don’t realize it, you do possess a bit of divine power.”

“I do?”

“Yes. To put it another way, the power of a god is an otherworldly power, so blades and magic don’t work on it. But don’t forget that you’ve been brought back to life by an otherworldly power.”

“But that wasn’t an otherworldly power or something divine. I was brought back by the mistake of an incompetent kid who used black magic, which is something that exists in this world. There’s nothing otherworldly about black magic, is it?”

“Oh? You still think that black magic is just another type of magic?”

“Then what is it?”

“You’re a little slow on this matter. You’ve managed to figure out that black magic, demonology, and illusions are all connected by the same language, and yet you’re still under the false impression that black magic is just a different kind of magic.”

“Then... Oh, you mean that...?!”

“Exactly. Those three practices have different uses, but they’re all rooted in the same language. You were brought back by black magic, the roots of which is the demonic language, so what makes you any different from the Chimeras?”

Those apostles had been Chimeras at first. They had managed to evolve to their current forms because Arthus had helped Dracan in his brutal experiment, which normally would’ve killed all of them, with Janus’ power.

That power was the Deprivation of Death, and it allowed a spirit to attach itself to a new body and be reborn into a new being.

Herabola saw a similarity between the evolution of those Chimeras and how Henry had been resurrected into a new body.

Herabola’s explanation sent chills down Henry’s spine.