After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 150
Step, step.
Wrapped in red flames, Dehart slowly walked through the crowd. The people stared at him with dumbfounded expressions, as if struck silent. The knights were in awe, while the gatherers were terrified and gaped in fear.
Then a voice, as harsh as a roar, struck their heads like a hammer.
“What the hell are you staring at? Do you want your comrades to be crushed down there and die? Move, now!”
The command swept through the valley like a gust of wind. People jumped in shock as though struck by lightning.
“You useless fools.”
The growl, animalistic in tone, scraped the ground. Wiping the blood from his hands, Dehart spoke coldly.
“I have to carry around fools who can’t even keep their brains inside their skulls.”
Dust rose from the bottom of the cliff, and the evening glow cascaded down from above. Standing there, bleeding, with his back turned to all of it, Dehart looked like a nightmare made flesh.
“Du, Duke.”
But he was still alive. That fact stirred something deep in the hearts of the knights.
They swallowed their rising emotions and followed Dehart’s orders. They quickly tossed down an extra ladder to the bottom of the cliff and began checking the status of the people below.
“Eli, can you hear me?”
Dehart stared at them with cold eyes. He reached out and grabbed the fading red flame with his hand. It was Alos’s remains.
[Watch out…!]
The moment the valley collapsed, Alos had spread a shield, disappearing with those last words. Remembering the red butterfly that had shattered before his eyes, Dehart clenched his teeth.
“Damn it.”
He carefully brushed his shirt pocket, biting his lip until the soft flesh bled. Since Alos’ disappearance, the blue bird had not regained its senses.
Dehart then raised his eyes, turning his gaze to the gathered herbalists. The coldness in his stare made them swallow their breaths.
“Rochelle.”
“Yes, Duke.”
The knights no longer tried to hide that he was the Duke. At the shout of ‘Duke’ that rang coldly through the valley, the herbalists froze in place clinging to the cliffs.
The two men whispered closely together. Words like “herbalist,” “porter,” and “Henkit” seemed to be spoken.
“Bring me the list and everything you’ve interrogated so far.”
A knight brought what Dehart had requested. His cold eyes scanned the list and the faces of the herbalists one by one. The list didn’t stay in his hands for long.
“It’s not on the herbalist list. That leaves only one possibility. He came in disguised as a porter.”
A chilling smile curled at the corner of Dehart’s mouth. The knight named Rochelle lowered his head in shame.
“I’m sorry. I should have been more thorough.”
It wasn’t a difficult matter. Henkit had entered under a false identity, posing as a porter. Unlike the regular herbalists who stayed in the valley, porters simply traveled between the city and the valley, so they were hired without any proper vetting—a mistake.
I never thought he would slip in as a porter and blend in with the herbalists.
Rochelle clenched his fists and bowed his head even lower. Dehart looked down at him with an indifferent gaze before brushing his hair back.
Clumps of dust and blood dripped from his fingers. After quickly tidying up his hair, Dehart began to walk toward the group of herbalists gathered near the entrance of the valley.
Crack, crack.
With every step, yellow currents of electricity bloomed like flower buds. The herbalists’ minds briefly flashed with a single word.
The Duke who strikes with lightning, the cursed Inverness.
“Ugh…!”
“No, no way.”
Only then did the herbalists take a good look at Dehart’s face. Until now, he had been just another figure, but now, his features appeared more distinct than ever. His eyes, shining brilliantly like the sun, were slowly turning white.
The Duke of Inverness? Damn it, this doesn’t make sense!
If they had known, they wouldn’t have come up with some excuse about not finding the glass flower and gotten themselves involved in something else.
Sons, the leader of the herbalists, was the first to turn pale. He instinctively scanned for the hidden stash of herbs he had secretly gathered, realizing he needed to take care of that first.
Sons didn’t realize Dehart was approaching him until it was too late. By the time he noticed, the entire group of herbalists had already stepped back.
“So, you’re the leader of these scumbags?”
Dehart’s golden eyes, backlit by the light, gleamed menacingly like a beast. The strong scent of blood wafted off him as he drew closer, and Sons suddenly felt a chill of fear.
“My, my lord. I didn’t realize…”
“Right. You’re just like me in that you’re dragging along a bunch of idiots who’ve done nothing for over a week. The difference is, you were the one who gave the orders for this foolishness.”
Dehart cut off Sons’ words with brutal finality. A savage smile stretched across his face.
“And here’s another difference. I don’t let just anyone under my command. And thanks to you, I’ve been made a fool. I almost ended up meeting a disgraceful end in this damn city.”
A deadly energy began to rise. The pressure weighed down on Sons’ chest, and he gasped for breath, bowing his body.
“Not to mention, you delayed harvesting the glass flowers, even after finding them?”
Dehart recalled the interrogation notes from a man named Dricken.
