Bartra Liones, the reigning king of the Kingdom of Liones. He possesses the magic \[Clairvoyance], which lets him foresee vague fragments and information about the future.
It was his prophecy of omens of the Holy War that led to the formation of the Seven Deadly Sins, and it was also his grave "illness" that led to the kingdom's turmoil.
But when Charles met this king, he realized that, as expected, the man wasn't ill—he was poisoned.
It seemed to be a slow-acting toxin that continually eroded his life force. Perhaps it was a poison unique to the Netherworld. With its composition unknown, ordinary antidotes were hopeless.
Charles, however, poured a bottle of the Battle Saintess's special panacea down his throat and restored him on the spot.
Just as Elizabeth threw herself into the arms of the now-healthy king and burst into tears, Charles suddenly moved.
With a lift of his hand, he caught the head of a magic staff—its other end gripped by a woman in bizarre armor.
She wore a twisted, misshapen helmet that covered her whole face, with only the eye area emitting a red glow.
Charles said coolly, "This is a rare, touching reunion. Could you not spoil the mood?"
From beneath the warped helmet came the woman's voice. "No can do. My job is to keep an eye on His Majesty the King!"
Charles recognized her. She was Vivian, Merlin's apprentice and currently the strongest mage in Liones.
The reason she aided Hendrickson's rebellion was nothing but her near-pathological feelings for Gilthunder.
Pity for her: she caught the yandere bug without the yandere looks—and besides, Gilthunder already had someone in his heart, a devoted, one-woman kind of Holy Knight.
Whatever her psychology, her skills were solid—the Perfect Cube imprisoning the king was hers.
Her specialty was spatial transference; she could teleport herself or other targets thousands of miles in an instant.
Just now, she had tried to use that ability to drop Charles into some deadly trap.
Then she was shocked to find him still standing before her, not having budged an inch.
Charles curled his lip. "That's it? Don't tell me you don't know spatial techniques fail under interference from sufficiently strong magic."
Only then did Vivian notice the faint red glow shrouding Charles's body. She hadn't paid attention before; sensing carefully now, she realized it was intensely concentrated magic.
No wonder her teleport had failed. That overwhelming magic was more than enough to isolate her technique.
The red glow at the eye slit of Vivian's helmet flickered. Without much hesitation, she invoked other secret arts.
"\[Magic Amplification] + \[Freezing Coffin]"
Vivian showed the caliber of the kingdom's top mage, completing two secret arts in the span of a heartbeat.
Frost crept up from the hand Charles used to seize the staff, and in the blink of an eye it seemed ready to encase him entirely.
Unfortunately for her, even an ice seal amplified severalfold evaporated on contact with the magic around Charles's body.
Vivian watched in horror as the frost turned to steam the instant it formed. Charles's fingers tightened, and her finely crafted staff head was crushed to powder.
Seeing that, Vivian didn't dare try anything else. She dropped the broken half of her staff and tried to teleport away.
But before she shifted, she saw a flame-wreathed fist swelling in her vision.
Her figure flickered and vanished, leaving only a few shards of her helmet behind.
Charles drew back his fist, curling his lip in annoyance. People with spatial abilities were a pain—if they wanted to run, they were hard to catch.
Turning back, Charles said, "The troublemaker's handled. Time for us to move. The boss is still fighting."
No one objected. They escorted the king out of the fortress.
Outside, it was even livelier.
Besides the fighting still going on by the city wall where Diane was, and inside the city where Meliodas was, sounds of battle and surges of magic were coming from another gate as well.
If Charles remembered right, during the battle for the capital, Merlin arrived as reinforcements with her disciple, Arthur, King of Camelot.
That commotion was likely their doing. Thinking that he was about to meet the biggest mastermind of all—the genuine strongest mage in the world—Charles felt a bit conflicted.
While Charles's thoughts wandered, Dawn Roar, who were leading the way, came to a halt.
Charles looked ahead too. A man in red armor was blocking the road. His long hair hung over his shoulders, a faint beard on his chin. His purplish-red eyes seemed etched with resolve.
One of Liones's two Great Holy Knights, Dreyfus, had appeared before them.
Charles stepped in front of the others. "You take the king and stop the other Holy Knights. Leave this Great Holy Knight to me."
Having witnessed the tip of Charles's terrifying power, Slader had no objections. He nodded and led the others away.
Dreyfus didn't give chase. With Charles locked on him, he had no bandwidth for anything else.
Only after the others had gone did Dreyfus feel a little relief, a big bead of cold sweat finally rolling down his forehead.
"Who are you, really?" Dreyfus asked gravely.
Charles stroked his chin. "That's what I want to ask you. Are you Dreyfus right now, or… something else?"
Dreyfus's gaze shifted. "I don't know what you mean! But you dared break into the capital and abduct the king. In the name of justice, no matter how strong you are, I will defeat you."
Charles couldn't help raising a brow. Dreyfus's state was indeed odd.
In the original course of events, Gowther had peered into his memories and found that Dreyfus still had some autonomy at that point—Fraudrin hadn't fully taken over his body.
Dreyfus's will was iron; he had once resisted Fraudrin's possession by himself. Later, the Ten Commandments' Fraudrin was even influenced in turn by Dreyfus, and in his heart came to see Griamore as his own child.
So Charles was very curious about Dreyfus's current state. Judging by his reaction, Fraudrin was the one at the wheel.
Before Charles could think further, a white pillar of light blasted toward him, grazing past as he leaned aside and lancing into the fortress behind.
The entire fortress was pierced through. Charles could clearly see the sky beyond through the round hole.
He looked at Dreyfus, whose sword was now drawn. "Impressive magic. Pity I won't get to see its true power."
Magic \[Pierce], Dreyfus's formidable ability. Though it manifested as the power to penetrate anything, its root was Dreyfus's unwavering will.
But what will did this Dreyfus have now? He couldn't wield the magic's true strength at all.
Charles sighed, his mood souring.
He might have decided not to kill Fraudrin—but he was definitely going to beat him senseless!
(End of Chapter)
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