My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1161 - 1162: Richman

The trail was a bit rough, and Abellona was nursing a deep headache.

She had no idea why, but these past few days she had been feeling nauseous.

"I really should be getting more sleep," she whispered, rubbing her temple with two fingers.

The carriage wouldn’t stop shaking.

Or was it just her?

Across from her, the other two ladies seemed completely unbothered.

Abellona swallowed.

A moment later her mouth filled with saliva again.

No matter how much she swallowed, more kept coming.

She also couldn’t stand the smell of anything.

Even the expensive perfume inside the carriage made her stomach churn.

Quietly, she reached out and pressed a small button fixed beside her seat, signaling the carriage to stop.

The moment it slowed, she vanished.

Her figure blurred, disappearing from the carriage before either woman could react.

She flashed into a narrow alley a short distance away.

The instant her feet touched the ground, she bent over violently.

"Urgh..."

She threw up.

One hand braced itself against the wall with enough force that cracks spread through the stone beneath her fingers.

She remained there for several breaths, breathing heavily as strands of dark hair hung over her face.

Finally, she straightened up and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

"...That feels better."

Without wasting another second, she flashed back into the carriage before the knights escorting them could rush over.

"Are... you okay?" Emilia asked, having barely managed to follow her movements with her eyes.

Terra said nothing.

She simply studied the princess quietly, a faint trace of concern hidden beneath her calm expression.

"I’m fine..."

Neither woman believed that.

Someone in the Sixth Class Advancement shouldn’t become nauseous so easily.

Terra rested a finger beneath her chin.

"It’s probably a curse... or the side effects of some spell," she muttered thoughtfully.

Abellona couldn’t remember coming into contact with any such spell.

Nor had she practiced one recently.

Even so, she simply nodded.

"I shouldn’t push myself too much..."

The carriage lurched forward once more.

Outside, their escort continued leading them toward their destination.

Their investigation had begun with Amon.

Yet somehow...

...it had gradually turned into an investigation into the past of Godric, the First Ravenscroft.

He had been the first person Amon ever killed.

And according to the fragments they had uncovered, he had possessed some elusive secret.

Abellona had decided it was worth pursuing.

She had tried contacting Damon about it.

Unfortunately, he seemed incredibly busy lately.

During the last seven years, every investigation they conducted into Amon had ended the same way.

A dead end.

Even when they came close...

...the trail always vanished.

One of the biggest supporters of their investigation was Duke Ravenscroft.

Yes.

Xander Ravenscroft had inherited the position by convincing his grandfather to step down as Grand Duke after his own father reached the Seventh Class Advancement.

He was deeply invested in everything related to Amon.

However...

Whenever Amon actually appeared...

Xander never fought him.

He never even tried to engage him.

Whenever someone asked why, he always gave the same answer.

"That was not the time to kill Amon."

"The time will come."

"And when it does..."

"...he will know."

Abellona sighed, pressing a hand against her aching forehead.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was sabotaging them.

Perhaps there was a spy leaking information to Amon.

That would explain why they never managed to corner him.

Then again...

Amon had spies everywhere.

Rooting them out was nearly impossible.

Kill one today...

...and tomorrow ten more would appear.

Worse still, these spies belonged to the same organization, yet most of them never even knew each other.

Capturing one revealed almost nothing.

Usually all they knew was that someone had recruited them.

Everyone joined for different reasons.

Some for money.

Some for ideals.

Some for love.

Some because they hated the nobility and the Temple.

Most of them wanted only one thing.

A world without war.

A world of love, peace, and acceptance.

That was why the Unknown Order had members among nearly every race.

"Where are we going anyway, Princess?" Emilia finally asked.

Abellona slowly lowered her hand from her forehead.

"We’re meeting a retired soldier from the One Hundred and Tenth Regiment."

"They were one of the units stationed under Godric Ravenscroft."

"Unlike the other units whose records were completely erased, this man is confirmed to have personally known some of the soldiers."

"He survived several battlefields alongside them."

Soon, the carriage entered one of the capital’s slum districts.

The streets were filthy.

A sour stench lingered in the air.

Broken homes leaned against one another, while dirty water trickled through open gutters.

It felt as though this place belonged to a completely different city.

As the luxurious carriage rolled through the narrow streets, countless eyes turned toward it.

Abellona noticed them immediately.

She raised a hand.

"The knights remain here."

"I’ll go in with the two of you."

The guards obeyed without question.

The three women stepped down from the carriage and continued on foot.

They already knew the man’s location.

The deeper they walked into the slums, the worse the surroundings became.

Homeless vagrants sat along the roadside.

Thin children wandered barefoot through the mud.

Old men stared blankly from broken doorways.

Eventually, Abellona stopped before one of them.

The man sat against a crumbling wall with one leg stretched out before him.

Deep scars crossed his weathered face.

His long beard was streaked with gray, and several of his teeth were missing.

A foul odor surrounded him.

"I’m looking for Tino Richman."

The man scratched his beard lazily before looking up.

"Who’s asking?"

"And what do you want with Richman?"

Abellona narrowed her crimson eyes.

"Abellona Valtheron is asking."

The old man squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the morning sun behind her.

"Heh..."

"If you’re Abellona Valtheron..."

"...then I must be Emperor Valtheron."

"You wenches should look for someone else."

"I ain’t got money."

Emilia had heard enough.

Without warning, she stepped forward and kicked him.

Her foot struck his chest.

He flew backward like a ball, bounced off the wall with a loud thud, and rolled across the ground before stopping at her feet.

"Urgh..."

He groaned, clutching his ribs.

This time, when he looked up...

...he got a proper look at Abellona’s face.

His expression instantly froze.

"Pri... Princess..."

"Yes," Abellona replied calmly.

"It’s me."

"You looked rather different in your military file."

"So I wasn’t entirely sure."

"Tino Richman..."

"...of the One Hundred and Tenth Regiment."

At the mention of his old regiment, the old veteran slowly lowered his head.

Abellona didn’t mind the smell of the slums.

Strangely enough...

It actually helped.

The nausea she’d been fighting all morning had almost completely disappeared.

Her mood improved ever so slightly.

Emilia, however, remained as cold as ever.

The last seven years had done little to soften her.

She stepped forward, grabbed Tino by the throat, and effortlessly lifted him off the ground.

His remaining leg kicked helplessly in the air.

Her voice was icy.

"I have some questions."

"And you have the answers."

Tino Richman nearly soiled himself.