NOVEL NEXT Chapter 33: "The Face of God"
A streak of light blazed across the sky, landing with breathtaking speed on the deck of a luxurious yacht.
The radiant, flaming wings retracted, their shimmering energy fading into scattered motes of light. During his high-speed flight, Roy had used the protective field generated by those wings to shield Erica from the tremendous external forces that accompanied his Godspeed.
As the wings dissolved, the halo above his head also vanished, returning Roy from his angelic form to his usual human appearance.
He gently set Erica down on the deck. The Italian girl's face was flushed as if from fever, her heart pounding. Within the Copper Black-Cross, Erica held a status akin to royalty, with her noble bearing and incomparable talents. Who would dare offend or approach her without restraint?
But Erica was, after all, only a fourteen-year-old girl. Her body, though maturing rapidly, had not yet caught up to her youthful spirit. Now, held so closely by Roy, whose age seemed similar to hers, their proximity and the torn state of her dress left her delicate, untouched skin pressed against his hand. Even the confident knight found herself overwhelmed by shyness.
"It seems I made the right choice in having this yacht move far from Ponza Island beforehand," Roy remarked casually. "Otherwise, I'd have had to fly and carry you all the way back to the Italian mainland."
Despite his youthful appearance, Roy was a man in his thirties at heart. His prior life experiences had given him a confidence that extended even to interactions like this, making him utterly at ease.
The yacht's crew, composed entirely of Copper Black-Cross magicians, had been on high alert. They had only glimpsed the distant devastation of Ponza Island and the supernatural waves roiling the seas but knew enough to feel paralyzed by fear. The sheer magnitude of Roy's power, combined with the ominous magic of Metatron's presence, had left them deeply shaken.
It was not until they saw that the person who returned to the yacht was Roy, that they let down their guard with their expressions becoming equal parts respect and fear.
Now, seeing their young lady, Erica, return with Roy in apparent intimacy, they exchanged silent glances before retreating discreetly, leaving the two alone on the deck.
"Your Majesty," Erica began, regaining her composure while suppressing shyness. "Please allow me to excuse myself to wash up before presenting myself formally. My current state is far too disgraceful for an audience."
Roy glanced at his own clothing—a crimson cardinal's robe, enchanted to resist damage. Despite its protection, his time submerged in seawater had left him feeling far from fresh.
"You have a point," he admitted with a chuckle. "Perhaps I need to clean up as well."
Erica hesitated for a moment before offering, "Then allow me to attend to Your Majesty first. Once I have ensured your comfort, I will tend to my own."
"Attend to me?" Roy asked, his lips curving into a teasing smile. "What exactly does that entail? Are you suggesting you'll strip down and use your youthful charms to help me relax in the bath?"
Erica froze, her cheeks burning bright red. This sudden, flirtatious side of Roy was a revelation. He had always appeared composed, almost indifferent, and this playful jest caught her completely off guard.
Was this newfound demeanor a sign of trust? Or was he testing her?
Though momentarily stunned, Erica quickly regained her poise. Her sharp mind processed the situation as she replied coolly with a slight stutter, "…My King, please respect yourself a little…Of course, its not that I don't want to, but its not part of my knightly duties. But if that is what Your Majesty truly desires, I would not refuse. However, I would hope for a proper title to accompany such a privilege."
Her tone became calm, her gaze unwavering. After all, Erica was not like her best friend Liliana, who would lose her ability to think pragmatically because of shyness. And hence made her request calmly.
Erica was pragmatic to her core. If her king desired something improper, she knew resistance would be futile. She was quite confident in her beauty, but giving away her body in such a humiliating way was definitely not what she wanted. So rather than succumb passively, she resolved to ensure the situation benefited her by elevating her status.
Erica's personality was like this. She will think and solve problems in a way that maximises benefits. After analysing that she can't escape, she even dared to use her body to gain even more benefits. She was a little too shrewd, so sometimes she can be very annoying. But if she cares about someone wholeheartedly, then that someone would feel what it means to be in bliss. Truly a woman with multiple talents.
Roy blinked at her response, then broke into giggle and subsequently calmed down. "Relax, Erica. I was only joking. Don't take it so seriously."
His sudden shift in tone—from playful to serious—left Erica unsettled. Was he disappointed in her? Did he find her unattractive? Or did he think her request for a title presumptuous?
As her mind spun with conflicting emotions, she lowered her gaze slightly and said, "...As you wish, Your Majesty. I shall see to your preparations first."
"Actually, why don't you go first? I'm not in any rush," Roy said with a faint smile.
Just as Erica turned to leave, Roy's gaze fell on her arm. Her once flawless skin was marred by painful-looking burns and blisters, the result of exposure to his overwhelming magic from the authority.
Before she could step away, Roy reached out and gently took her arm. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his tone unexpectedly soft.
Erica was taken aback. Her usual composure wavered under the uncharacteristic tenderness of her king. "Compared to the trials I endured to become a knight," she replied, steadying herself, "this pain is nothing. I simply lack the magic reserves to heal it at the moment. I'll apply some medicine first, and then use magic to heal once my reserves recover."
Without another word, Roy began murmuring an incantation. Erica watched in astonishment as her wounds glowed faintly, vanishing as though they had never existed.
"I'm not like the other Campione," Roy remarked casually. "I find magic fascinating and make it a point to study it. This is my first attempt at healing magic, and it seems I did well enough. You should take better care of yourself. A girl like you shouldn't let her skin be scarred—it doesn't suit you."
His hand brushed lightly over the newly healed skin of her arm before he released her.
"Go," he said gently, gesturing toward the yacht's cabins. "Get some rest and clean yourself up."
Erica hesitated, cradling her healed arm. "As you command, my king," she said at last, bowing deeply before retreating.
Once Erica disappeared below deck, Roy rubbed his temples and chuckled to himself. "When did I become so good at teasing girls?" he mused.
"Could it be something I inherited from Aleister Crowley? Or maybe it's just a talent I never had the chance to use..." His thoughts drifted briefly to his past life, recalling the mischievous teasing he often directed at Laura.
Roy sighed and walked towards his cabin. As they say, men love beauties. And now that he is a Devil King on Earth, it is reasonable for him to collect beauties for his own amusement.
If one day, I really become the kind of scum who plays with bodies and minds of young beauties. It would not be my fault. It would be Aleister Crowley's fault, because he is such a villain who deceives women, and I am just following in his footsteps.
He shook his head. "No point overthinking it."
With a faint smile, he turned his focus to the matter at hand.
Metatron's death had granted Roy a new authority: "The Face of God" (Visio Dei).
The time had come to delve into its mysteries and fully understand what this divine authority could do.