The glass greenhouse outside reflected the pale sunlight, and the vivid roses stood out strikingly even in the thin mist.
Duke Negan, inside the bedroom, seemed to have regained the feeling of following his father and elders in his youth, riding horses across the vast lands, driving hounds, and chasing beasts.
Finally, he reached the peak, and everything around seemed to become exceptionally quiet.
Just then, a rumble went off in his mind, and he felt that pleasure and relief violently explode, exploding again and again, without limit, without end.
Duke Negan's waist trembled, his vision went blank, and his mind emptied.
His heart pounded violently as if it couldn't bear the load, like a steam boiler that had exceeded its pressure limit countless times over, ready to explode at any moment, ready to burst forth with scalding steam.
If he were an ordinary person or a Beyonder without strong physical constitution, he would surely have suffered a heart attack, brain hemorrhage, and died on the spot, but Duke Negan ultimately pulled through. However, his eyes were vacant, drool dripped from his mouth, and he collapsed weakly onto his mistress who lay flat beside him.
The "Wind-blessed" and the Duke's secretary, both on guard in separate rooms, simultaneously detected the anomaly in spirituality and the mystical scent. The former was suddenly wrapped in a violent gale that slammed him into the wall, crashing through a large hole with a loud bang and entering the bedroom.
The secretary, on the other hand, made a beeline for the mystical source—the attic of this house!
Along the way, he didn't dodge or evade, but the decorative vases and other items in the corridor seemed to gain a life of their own, cleverly avoiding him as he passed.
As he bounded up the stairs towards the attic, the wooden floor seemed to rise up to meet him, as if lending him a hand.
In just three or four seconds, this refined and delicate-looking young man with blonde hair had already entered the attic and saw a figure sitting on an old chair.
The figure was completely covered in a sticky black liquid, like the embodiment of all the ugly desires and violent emotions in the depths of the human heart. It was the greed to sell the very rope that hangs you, the hunger that does not spare your own kind, the unrestrained lust. This was a Demon walking upon the earth!
The thin secretary's expression did not change. Instead of launching a direct attack, he looked at the other party, reached behind him, and politely closed the door.
Bang!
The wooden door of the attic was shut.
The entire room suddenly felt completely sealed off, as if one could not leave it without a great effort to break free. In that instant, the concept of "closing the door and sealing the room" seemed to have been altered to "sealing this place, isolating inside and outside"!
The "Apostle of Desire" moved. His body swelled and grew larger, sprouting a pair of huge bat-like wings wreathed in pale blue flames.
One by one, fireballs emitting a strong smell of sulfur formed and slammed into the Duke Negan's blonde secretary.
The secretary stretched out his left palm, clad in a white glove, and suddenly clenched it into a fist, twisting his wrist halfway.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The fireballs no longer followed the principles of straight lines or parabolas. They suddenly scattered in all directions, chaotic like the irregular motion of microscopic particles proposed by some botanist. Some hit the walls, some struck the ceiling, some landed beside the bookish secretary, while others reversed direction and nearly injured the "Apostle of Desire" himself.
The entire attic was in a mess, covered in signs of breakage and scorching. The house itself trembled twice from the impact.
Yet, the mystical force, or rather the altered rule of "sealing" this place, had yet to be destroyed. The surrounding walls, the old wooden door, and the dusty roof merely wobbled precariously but did not fall.
The "Apostle of Desire" was not discouraged by the failure of his previous attempt, nor was he flustered by the other party's calm demeanor and restrained desires. A fiery red, like molten magma, suddenly leaped up in his coffee-colored eyes, coalescing into the image of the blonde secretary. A single filthy and foul word in the demonic language escaped his lips: "Die!"
Almost at the same time, the secretary in the gold-rimmed glasses narrowed his eyes, opened his left fist, and aimed his palm at the "Apostle of Desire."
Suddenly, his figure split. One was the refined, thin secretary himself; the other was a shadow covered in the black liquid of "Desire." The two alternated rapidly, sometimes overlapping.
"Die!"
The foul word echoed through the attic. The secretary groaned, stepping back two paces.
The split figures vanished. Large patches of rust-red markings appeared on his skin and face, as if he had turned into an iron man left in a damp place for many years.
He coughed violently, spitting out clotted, rust-covered lumps of blood.
The markings on his body slowly flaked off.
Cough! Cough!
The "Apostle of Desire" was also coughing, also spitting out clotted, rust-covered blood. The viscous black liquid covering his body instantly became much thinner.
It seemed half of his filthy word had been transferred back onto himself.
...
Inside the bedroom.
The "Wind-blessed" helped Duke Negan up and kicked the beautiful mistress to the side, just in case she was an accomplice.
He didn't go to help the secretary because he knew his duty was only one: to protect Duke Negan!
In a situation like this, one had to be wary of more than one enemy!
Just then, Duke Negan had recovered slightly. But despite his considerable strength, his limbs were still weak, his body empty, and his spirit sluggish. He was completely unable to use his Beyonder abilities.
He gestured for the "Wind-blessed" to take off the seashell necklace around his neck and bring the item to his lips.
Duke Negan took a breath and blew forcibly into the small seashell covered in strange patterns.
Whoosh!
A low sound of rushing water spread out, surging swiftly towards the Cathedral of the Holy Wind.
"At His Grace the Archbishop's speed, he will be here very soon!" The "Wind-blessed" first offered a word of comfort, then hoisted Duke Negan onto his back, approached the window, and leapt down.