Chapter 297 - 223: Hehe
His teeth pierced through the tough skin, sinking deep into the demon’s muscle.
Henry’s mouth filled with the demon’s blood. The taste almost made him vomit, but he didn’t let go.
He tore at it with all his might. The demon let out a pained howl, releasing Henry and throwing him to the ground.
Henry collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath, his body covered in wounds.
Just then, the dreamscape began to distort, like smoke blown by the wind. Henry felt an invisible force pulling him out of the wasteland.
He felt that familiar sense of vertigo again. When he opened his eyes, he found himself back in the carriage, back at Ailia’s side.
Henry’s breathing was ragged, and his forehead was covered in a cold sweat.
He looked at the warhammer clutched in his hand, then at Ailia, who was watching him with concern.
The searing pain coursing through his body, along with the lingering smell of smoke and rot in his nose and mouth, proved that what had just happened was no hallucination.
This wasn’t some fit of hysteria. It wasn’t just a dream, but another real experience in the Subspace!
’It can’t be that this entire life is just a deathbed hallucination from my last one, can it? That’s too absurd. I’d have to have a pretty wild imagination for that.’
Henry set down the warhammer. The pull on his muscles made him suck in a sharp breath and grit his teeth in pain. His body still ached—the lingering marks of battle.
Henry closed his eyes. He didn’t know how many more times this would happen, but one thing was clear: he had to become stronger to face this unknown demon.
’I have to find a solution as soon as possible, or I’ll be trapped between these two worlds forever, never knowing a moment’s peace!’
Ailia noticed how strange Henry was when he woke up and gently took his hand.
Her fingertips felt the calluses on his palm, a testament to the countless battles he had fought.
At the same time, she felt the layer of cold sweat on his hand, and a pang of sympathy welled up in her heart.
"My lord, did you have a nightmare?" Ailia asked softly.
She only knew that as a leader, as the lord of Westwood Laine and Ximira Castle, and as an Independent Baron of the empire, Henry carried an immense burden. She hoped she could bring him some comfort in her own way.
"When we get back to the border camp, I’ll buy some fresh ingredients and make you a lemon cake. Eating something sweet and sour can lift one’s spirits," Ailia said with a sweet smile, wanting to do anything she could to cheer Henry up.
Ailia didn’t fully understand the complex situation Henry was facing. Her feelings were simple and sincere.
She just wanted to offer Henry some warmth and support in her own way.
Henry gave Ailia a smile. He didn’t explain what had just happened to her.
Telling her would only give her one more thing to worry about.
"Thank you, Ailia. Your lemon cakes always help me relax."
Henry’s throat was sore and his voice was hoarse, because the demon had choked him so painfully.
But all he could feel now was pain, with no visible wounds. Otherwise, Ailia would have surely seen him black and blue, covered in fist and palm prints.
For the next few days of the journey, Henry spent most of his time in the carriage, a complete departure from his usual habit of preferring to ride his horse at the head of the army.
His body still ached. Although there were no obvious external injuries, the bone-deep pain was impossible to ignore.
He needed time to recover, and space to think.
This special situation brought on by the spatial rift had disrupted his three-year plan to "develop slowly" and then overthrow the emperor. It was as if a mysterious, giant hand was pushing him forward.
’It’s terrifying.’
And Henry’s unusual behavior naturally caught the attention of those who were with him day in and day out.
Bain and the other Attendants came over one by one to ask about him, concerned for his health.
Vasco and the other officers stuck close to the carriage, their eyes filled with concern, as if ready to leap onto it at a moment’s notice to help Henry.
Claude also noticed how unnatural Henry was acting; he looked as if he were seriously injured. Occasionally, when passing the carriage, Claude could hear faint groans.
This made Claude’s brow furrow. He knew Henry wasn’t the type to show weakness easily, unless he had truly encountered something unbearable.
But the question was, who could possibly defeat Henry? This was what puzzled everyone.
But none of them could see any wounds or bruises on Henry, and he himself said he was fine, just a little tired.
This left Claude, the Attendants, and the officers feeling helpless. They were worried about Henry’s health but couldn’t force him to undergo an examination.
After all, Henry was their lord, and they respected his wishes.
They couldn’t just pin Henry down and strip him to check his body, could they? Leaving aside whether they could even hold him down or win a fight against him, even if they could, they would never dare.
"My lord, are you really all right?" Bain asked again.
Henry looked out of the carriage window at Bain. He knew their worry stemmed from their loyalty and concern for him.
He did his best to make his voice sound calm. "Bain, I told you, I’m just a little tired. We need to reach the border camp as quickly as possible, so stop worrying about me and go do your jobs."