Sweat It Out

177. Sweat It Out

A long time ago.

Before most humans had even been born, Neos, as a human, had grasped a truth that ran through the universe and time itself.

That was—losers bore everything.

Unfortunately, today he was the loser.

And the kind who could not run away.

I am.

A tall, pale, dispirited figure emerged from the mist, a slender hand unlike any human hand settling lightly on Neos's shoulder.

Mortarion did not even spare Neos a glance. He gave the Emperor's shoulder a threatening pat, then the Pale Lord sat directly in the seat prepared for him in the silent hall.

They sat on either side of the Lord of Humanity. Sanguinius wore a frivolously mocking expression, while Mortarion sat like a puppet, laughing eerily from his chair.

"I am glad to see you caught, my friend."

Malcador stepped familiarly out of a picture frame, speaking in a mocking tone. The old man looked radiant as he casually removed his hood with his wrinkled hand—

The dull hood fell away, revealing a handsome silver-haired youth.

Malcador patted Neos, then sat down in the nearest seat on Neos's right with steps as light as a dance. Clear golden light shone in the youth's eyes, and the curve of his lips had not fallen since he entered.

"You're very happy."

Neos said, but before his tone could darken, another mature male voice cut off his next words.

"I'm happy too, haha, Neos."

Orpetre wore a simple military uniform, with the lowest rank imaginable. He tugged at his cap, followed the crowd in patting Neos on the shoulder, then chose a seat on the left.

"Praise the Lord."

Ou said casually.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Emperor saw the gleaming silver cross hanging before Ou's chest.