He's in Love with the Devil.

Chapter 16: The Heavenly King

The sworn knight hears the voice of the king.

He couldn't think too long and immediately shrunk his head and backhanded his shield to his back.

The tough bowstring made of horsehair was pulled, and almost at the same time "swoosh," "swoosh," "swoosh," the sound of feathered arrows breaking through the air rang out. The arrows shot from the longbow flew out like an iron cloud.

The king and his men were facing Baron Shion, so their reaction was a bit faster than the Oath Knights who were scouting the way.

The sworn knights on the king's left and right sides, instead of retreating, rushed forward with their horses and set up their shields to protect the king firmly behind them. The sworn knights' shields had been forged in a special way, making them harder than ordinary shields. But Rogaland's longbowmen were world-famous, and within sixty yards, the longbows were able to shoot through chain mail. [1]

That was why, Baron Sheen dared to bring a dozen longbowmen to kill the king.

The highly trained longbowmen were capable of shooting six to ten arrows per minute. The shields could only protect them for a moment, and by the time the warhorse fell, the king would have no way to escape.

Baron Sheen was not the only one who thought of this.

The moment the sworn knights raised their shields in front of them, the king threw his longsword out. Iron arrows rained down on the shield, and the king's sword cut a cold moon-like light in midair.

The longsword pointed precisely towards Baron Sheen who was holding up a torch.

Baron Sheen was taken aback.

At this moment, in order to paralyze the sworn knights, his sword was only hanging on his waist and he was not wearing any armor. Seeing the sword coming towards him, Baron Sheen had to steer his horse to the side and dashed a few steps to the side.

The longsword flashed with cold light and nailed to the ground.

The sword was thrown empty.

But the king's purpose had been reached.

As Baron Sheen spurred his horse out, he inevitably got in the way of the longbowmen behind him.

The longbowmen, who were just about to draw their bows and open their strings for another shot, suddenly saw the baron appearing in the range, and stopped shooting in a frenzy. There were a few bold ones who deflected their arrows and shot at the king and his men from the gap where the baron's horse had rushed through, but with the loss of accuracy and greatly reduced strength, the scattered arrows flew crookedly for a while and fell diagonally into the muddy water.

"Damn!"

Baron Shion conditionally lurched his horse to avoid the sword, and he immediately reacted just as the horse rushed out a few paces. He cursed out, and with a strangle of his horse's reins he made room for the longbowmen.

"Continue! Continue!"

He scolded sternly.

Almost at the same time, someone else yelled at the top of their lungs as well.

"Your Majesty! Go!"

The sworn knight in charge of scouting the way roared and tumbled down from his horse.

The cold weather equally affected these archers who had been ambling in the grass for a very long time. These longbowmen that Baron Sheen brought out should be of the highest rank in the army, and they would have been able to draw a full one hundred and fifty pound longbow. But after enduring the torrential rain for so long, they probably only reached one hundred pounds.

Because of this, the sworn knights around the king had the chance to block the bows and arrows.

However, the sworn knights in charge of scouting were not so lucky.

He was simply too close to those longbowmen.

Even if the king warned him in time and he reacted as fast as he could, the situation was still terrible. The iron arrow pierced through his thigh, and the warhorse fell with a mournful cry. At this most critical moment, this brave sworn knight miraculously dragged his injured leg and leapt up from the ground.

He hissed and lunged towards those longbowmen who were very close to him.

He opened his arms and grabbed two of the longbowmen, dragging them as they rolled into the muddy water, tumbling and crashing into the other longbowmen beside him.

An arrow that was just about to leave the string missed his chest and blood spurted out.

"Sire! Go!"

The longbowman kicked and kicked the madman dead on. He, in turn, hissed at the top of his lungs as blood rolled down his throat in flames along with muddy water.

"...... Go!"

For the fourth time that night, the king gave this order.

At this point, the king was in a dilemma.

To the back, there was the Moon River Fortress controlled by the Bolesi Expeditionary Army. Forward, there was the renegade Tru City. To the east of them were the same rolling grasslands, and to the west of them was only the undulating Konoson Mountains - in this era, the dark forests were considered forbidden lands.

The unwritten unspoken rules-

The forests at night belonged to the creatures of darkness.

Without hesitation, the king galloped with his knights towards the near forest.

Baron Sheen threw away his sword and snatched up a longbow, which he drew full three times in a row.

He had been able to hold out against the Blesi Expeditionary Force for so long at Tru Castle by more than just being young and handsome. As early as when he was sixteen years old, he had won a horse tournament! These three arrows were the fastest and most powerful three arrows Baron Sheen had ever seen.

When the last arrow was fired, the bowstring snapped with a clang.

The iron arrow disappeared in the darkness and headed toward the king.

Baron Sheen was sure that he had not missed his aim, and the force was definitely enough.

But the last thing he saw in his vision was the king sitting on his horse, charging into the forest and disappearing.

"Damn it! Damn it! s**t!"

Baron Sheen threw away his longbow, according to the plan he had to bring back the king's body, but now he wasn't sure if he had gotten it or not.

"My lord, what now?"

A man holding a torch led dozens of cavalrymen out of the darkness of the rain and came to Baron Sheen's side. In order to avoid the king's alertness, these Tru City cavalrymen hid further away, and by the time they realized that their original plan had failed and rushed over, it was already too late.

"After them."

Baron Sheen said without hesitation.

"But ......"

The one holding the torch was Baron Sheen's squire, who had a hesitant look on his face.

"The Konoson Mountains are a cursed forest."

"Screw the curse or not."

Baron Sheen couldn't maintain his poise.

He swept his gaze over the dozens of cavalrymen, anger and sadness intertwined in his heart: these dozens of cavalrymen were all the cavalrymen that Castle Tru had left now.

How funny!

A military castle that had been at loggerheads with Bolesi for so long now had less than forty warhorses left! Since a month ago, the soldiers of Tru Castle had to slaughter war horses to feed their hunger. They have no bread, no milk, not even a boiled egg left.

All this thanks to a favor from His Majesty.

"Even if there's only a one in a million chance that he survives, none of us can afford that consequence." Baron Sheen squeezed his voice out from between his teeth, "Whoever feels they can bear it will stay."

He was the first to drive his horse towards the "Cursed Forest", the Konoson Mountain Range.

The cavalry all followed.

Only the king's sword remained, its cold light burning on the ground.

..................

The forest of Kono is chilling even in daylight.

The forest had been passed down from ancient times, and its tall trees were close together, their branches as black as ink. The branches of the canopy were densely intertwined like the arms of giants, and in the daytime the canopy was able to block the sun's rays to a tiny bit. Eerie and cold, darkness filled the place.

As soon as I walked into the forest, I immediately felt the rain drop to a near stop.

Baron Sheen held a torch and slowed his pace, the hounds following beside the warhorse. They had taken the hounds with them before they set out.

"My lord."

The squire followed Baron Sheen, he and Baron Sheen grew up together and had a deep personal bond.

"There is one thing I can't figure out."

"What?"

"Why must the Archduke let the King die tonight? Simply because today is the death of St. Val?" The squire asked his doubts in a low voice, as well as to dispel a bit of trepidation.

It couldn't be helped, the forest was too quiet, quiet as death.

As far as the eye could see, there were thick trunks of trees hundreds and thousands of years old, forested like a grotesque natural city. People were intruders and offenders here, and the darkness seemed to hide many eyes.

No one expected the king, who had grown up in a luxurious palace, to be able to enter here so decisively.

The hounds had lost their usual vigor and dared only to sniff quietly and advance with their heads bowed.

"Do you remember? When was our sire born?"

Baron Sheen surveyed the cursed forest without answering directly.

"In the early hours of September 23rd, that was the day St. Val returned to the Kingdom of God."

It was something the Roglans knew.

A dozen years ago, on the night of September 22nd.

The royal cavalry sealed off the entire palace and messengers had to wait outside the palace gates. People waited from evening until late at night, until the first morning sunlight swept over the land and the baby's cry rang out. The queen's maid of honor came wearily out of the palace and announced to the waiting people:

The Crown Prince is born.

It was a fitting tribute to the story of St. Val--

She fell on September 22nd. The next day, the Lord called her back to the Kingdom of God.

So it was then that the Crown and the Church joined hands to announce to the people that the Crown Prince was a saint-given son, an incarnation of St. Val on earth, and would surely lead Rogaland to splendor and glory.

It was for this reason that the Duke of Buckingham was able, after the illness and death of William III, to make the people accept, with less effort, the fact that their king was a baby.

It is important to realize that in Ecclesiastes there is always the phrase "Woe unto thee, O state, if thy king be a child."

"Rampant, brutal, cold-blooded, extravagant ...... What a glorious, glorious king."

The squire sneered and bristled.

"Have you ever thought of the possibility ......"

Baron Sheen turned his head to look at him, a slightly odd look on his face.

"That he was actually born in the dead of night on September 22nd, rather than in the early hours of the 23rd?"

"What?" The squire looked at him in shock, and subconsciously retorted directly, "Impossible, at that time, there were hundreds of nobles' messengers guarding the outside of the royal palace, if it was on the 22nd, those nobles would never have allowed him to become the rightful heir to the throne!"

The glory of the Holy Lord enveloped the earth, and no matter which country it was, it would not allow a baby born on the night the Holy Lord abandoned the earth to eventually ascend to the throne.

"Do you really think that Earl Walter was assassinated by the Archduke because he didn't execute the Duke of Buckingham in time?"

Baron Sheen said coldly.

"Not ...... otherwise?"

"It was Earl Walter who commanded those cavalry the night the Queen went into labor in the first place - he was supposed to be the King's initiator!"

The squire could not speak.

Baron Sheen gazed at the torch, the firelight illuminating his face.

Beneath the beautifully intricate curtains of the palace, every room held untold secrets, blood mingled with flowers, and behind the angels were smiling evil spirits.

"So-"

Baron Sheen's voice was seething with morose coldness.

"There are no saints at all who bring heaven-ordained monarchs to Rogaland; instead, it is Hell that sends their chosen ones to earth."

Author's Notes:

[1] Data referenced from "The Transformation of the Function of the Bow and Arrow in England from the 12th to the 17th Century