The Devil's Cursed Witch novel Chapter 87

It was late in the afternoon when Erlos entered the King’s chamber carrying something in his hand. Draven was sitting in his armchair with his eyes closed when he heard his approach.

“Sire, someone is asking for an audience with you. I have told him to wait for you in your study.”

Draven frowned and looked at Erlos, and the elf stepped forward showing him what was in his hand. It was a golden round token engraved in an enchanted wood, each symbol on its surface representing all the known races living within the kingdom.

“He said you will recognize the value of this seal,” Erlos said.

It was the war seal that belonged to only a single person, the highest authority among the warriors of the kingdom and second only to the rank of the King during wartime. When the seal was used to meet the King, it was an official request that could not be refused. It meant there was something important related to the peace and security of the kingdom and Draven could not say no to his visit even if he was preoccupied with other matters.

Draven stood up and disappeared from his chamber. Erlos closed the door of the chamber and went to the King’s study, carrying that seal with him.

When Draven appeared inside his study, he found the owner of the war seal standing in front of the honeycomb-patterned shelf while holding one of the scrolls. It was the upgraded map of the continent that Draven had recently been working on.

“Oh, that’s quick,” the man commented upon seeing him arrive. He was none other than the person who grabbed every chance he could find trying to get on the King’s nerves these days, Divine Eagle Morpheus.

Draven glared at him and walked towards his desk. He heard Morpheus mumbling as he closed the scroll, “New map looks interesting. Seems like a lot has changed.”

Draven didn’t react at all as he continued to sit in his chair behind his desk.

Morpheus put the scroll back into the shelf and went to stand in front of the King on the other side of the long wooden table and bowed his head. “The Commander of the Warriors, Divine Eagle Morpheus, greets His Majesty, King Draven Aramis.”

Though his urges were telling him to kick the man out of the palace, that was only when he came as an uninvited guest. It was a different matter if the eagle paid an official visit in his capacity as the commander. As a king, Draven had to listen to whatever issues the commander had brought to him to discuss.

“I believe the Commander of the Warriors is not simply here to waste my time,” Draven commented.

“I dare not, Your Majesty,” he said.

Just as Draven held the position as ‘King of Agartha’ due to his feat of protecting the supernatural beings, Morpheus was similarly given the title ‘Commander of the Warriors’ because of his accomplishments in the succeeding wars.

In the past, Morpheus had fought against the humans alongside Draven while leading all the warriors on their sides, regardless of clan or race. Though there were other more powerful beings than Morpheus, Morpheus had shown great value in the strategy. He was a merciless and tactful commander whose war tactics never failed to defeat the humans with little to no casualties on their ranks, earning him the trust of the other races.

That was the time when Draven and Morpheus were not just king and subject, but close comrades who trusted each other to protect their backs.

After the last major war ended more than a century ago, there was no work for the Commander as the kingdom was at peace, making Morpheus an idle man. Once in a while, he had to only check on the things going on within the kingdom, but supernatural beings were generally hermits within their own territories. What small fights that happened were problems ordinary guards could do, and there was no need for him to step up.

For the past decade, there was nothing left for him to do aside from attending boring meetings within his family or race. He had his uncle for that, and thus, he became an idle man who didn’t need to work to live. He preferred to live a free life where he was not bound by any duties, and he even avoided attending those boring administrative meetings. Slowly, even he had forgotten that he was a commander, spending his days lazing off and flying around, and so did others as he never showed his authority.

For the younger generation told tales of his feats, they barely believed that ‘Morph’, such an easygoing idler, was once a ferocious figure on the battlefield.

Finally, after centuries of being covered in dust, he brought out that war seal that proved his identity as the Commander of the kingdom’s warriors.

Draven stared at him for a moment. “Only time will decide.” _{freёwebnovel.com}