Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

Chapter 27 - Grave

Van clumsily trudged through the open fields, making his way back to the city.

His thoughts remained clouded from the earlier encounter. Though he could walk, breathe, and function, his mind felt heavier than ever, as if weighed down by a fog that refused to lift.

'Haah... If not for my resistance and vigor, I'd be dead by now... he mused, glancing at the faint seals etched into his skin. I could probably keep going like this—without food, water, or sleep—for four months before it starts to kill me... even with these cursed seals binding me.'

'I'll need to find a Dragonkin Priest to undo these seals... Now, if I could just earn some money and find a priest at the highlands, I could probably get those—' His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as he stumbled upon something, crushing it with a loud booming noise.

Van slowly looked down to see what he had trampled.

It was a concrete grave marker.

'Ah... I've stumbled into the capital's graveyard... I let my mind wander too much,' He realized as he looked around, surrounded by thousands of graves.

He sighed, 'It's going to take a while to get out of this place...' He thought, frustrated as he continued walking, carefully avoiding the other graves.

As he moved deeper into the graveyard, the graves became more orderly, neat, and clean.

'Yep. Pecking order, even among the dead,' He mused as he navigated.

Near the exit of the graveyard, a tall building blocked his path. He had to circle around it.

'What's this...? Too elegant and regal to be a morgue...' He wondered as he walked around it.

'Holy damn, I think this is a grave... What kind of person gets a church-sized grave...!? Who did this person impress to get a grave this big!?' He thought to himself as he came full circle to look at the name carved at the front of the church-sized tomb.

Van froze as he read the name engraved on it.

'What is the meaning of this...?' He thought, his eyes widening as he saw the words:

||HERE LIES A LOVING HUSBAND, FATHER... AND A FRIEND. THE HERO, MAGUS VEIL||, with the date of passing listed as two years ago.

"What the fuck!?" Van's eyebrow shot up, his expression more animated as he leaned in, double-checking the sign, making sure he hadn't misread it.

"Don't bullshit me! HE'S NOT DEAD! What the FUCK IS THIS!? No one could kill...!" As the words spilled from his mouth, memories he had tried to bury clawed their way to the surface.

A memory of Magus's hand trembling as he reached out, desperately touching Van's.
A memory of Magus begging him not to leave.

'Why the FUCK am I remembering this now!? What does this have to do with anything!? He ain't dead! He CAN'T be dead! He's the strongest guy in the universe—NO ONE could kill him!' Van thought, his breath hitching as the fog in his mind churned violently, building into a storm.

"Oh...? A visitor at the Hero's grave this early? Greetings. I am the attendant of this—" a calm, elderly voice remarked as its owner approached... Before being aggressively cut off by Van.

"HEY, OLD MAN!" Van snapped, jerking around at the mention of the grave, startling the figure. The old man wore black, ragged robes, his slow, slouched movements deliberate and measured. He glanced back at Van, taking in the sight of the furious young man who had called out to him with such force and intensity. Unease stirred within him.

"What's the meaning of this bullshit!?" Van snarled, his vision swimming with rage. "WHERE'S MAGUS VEIL!?"

"Haah... Another one of these fanatics," the old man muttered under his breath, exasperated. His eyes drifted over Van's body, mistaking the seals etched into his skin for tattoos. Yet, he couldn't help but notice the sharp definition of Van's physique—muscles sculpted for both strength and agility.