My Love Debts Are Everywhere!

"If this truly marks the conclusion of the Hall of Glory, th where is the portrait of the first Demon Emperor, Amon Crimson?"

Question marks appeared above his head as he muttered in confusion.

To be honest, among all the gerations of Demon Emperors in existce, it was Amon Crimson, the very first Demon Emperor in the world, who, besides Morgan Crimson, sparked his intse curiosity.

The history and ancit literature documting Amon Crimson were exceedingly rare, as if only a handful of individuals had ever recorded his story.

Ev within the libraries of the Elysium Imperial Palace and the Holy Orthodox Great Hall, there were only a scant few records about him, almost ough to count on one hand.

Initially, Leon himself was somewhat puzzled by the reason for this, which fueled his eagerness to visit the Hall of Glory and study the image of this great and legdary figure.

However, to his dismay, there wasn't ev a portrait of Amon Crimson in the Hall of Glory, leaving him filled with regret.

"Hey~ How is it possible that there's no portrait of such a legdary figure in the Hall of Glory?" he complained, unable to accept this outcome.

In fact, not only was the history of Demon Emperor Amon Crimson sparsely recorded in the libraries of both the Elysium Imperial Palace and the Holy Orthodox Great Hall, but ev the history of the three first-geration heroes remained shrouded in obscurity.

Little was documted aside from the tale of their collective victory over Demon Emperor Amon Crimson 7,000 years ago.

Due to this, he truly hoped that the Hall of Glory would furnish him with a satisfactory answer, yet regrettably, it appeared unattainable.

"Damn it! I'm certain that person's portrait must be in this hall! There's a good chance I might have overlooked it!" Leon snapped back to reality, realizing the validity of his thoughts.

After all, he had be too grossed in examining all the portraits of the Demon Emperors earlier, so it made sse that he may have overlooked Amon Crimson's portrait.

Without hesitation, he rewed his determination and resolved to retrace his steps to search thoroughly!

Giving up was not in his life's dictionary, and ev if it were, the possibility was smaller than the shape of protons, electrons, and neutrons in an atom!

T minutes later...

*Thud!*

With a weary expression, Leon lay sprawled at the trance of the Hall of Glory, devoid of the spirited demeanor he had displayed earlier.

"I... I've giv up... It seems... it truly doesn't exist, damn it!" Gasping for breath, his handsome face appeared pallid, as if he had run for hundreds of kilometers.

He had run back and forth numerous times to confirm whether he had indeed missed Amon Crimson's portrait, but his efforts proved futile as there was no portrait to be found at all!

"How could Amon Crimson's portrait not be in the Hall of Glory!? It's impossible, isn't it?" Leon quickly sat up, his forehead creased in distress.

After all, the Hall of Glory was where the tire legacy of the Demon Emperors from every era was housed!

It was inconceivable and utterly nonssical that a legdary figure like the painting of Amon Crimson, the first Demon Emperor and progitor of the Demon Emperors of every era, simply did not exist!

However, reality had already dealt him a harsh blow, and he could no longer cling to his hopes.

Th he quickly took a deep breath, as if to quell the anxiety in his mind.

"Huft~ I suspected there must be something concealed about this matter. With the scant historical records from 7000 years ago regarding the three heroes of the first geration of mankind or Amon Crimson himself, there's undoubtedly something amiss." Leon slowly rose to his feet, his gold eyes regaining their original clarity as he muttered.

He wasn't a fool; he noticed the irregularities of the many pieces of evidce that were clearly in his sight.

It was undiable that the history of 7,000 years ago had be suppressed or obliterated by a certain party, leaving all evidce relating to the incidt conspicuously abst.

As someone who had lived twice, his mind was more advanced and logical than anyone else's in the world, making him very confidt in his conjecture.

Regrettably, he was clueless as to why this could have occurred or who could be responsible for it.

"Tsk! The depths of this fantasy world are truly profound and mysterious." Leon shook his head, sighing helplessly.

He had underestimated this world too much before, feeling powerful and invincible while he still stood at his peak position as a sword hero recognized by the great holy sword Zith.

However, this reality compelled him to reassess and exercise caution in the future.

Just as he was lost in thought, a very small, faint voice suddly reached and was heard in his ears, startling him instantly.

"..."

"Huh? A voice? Am I hallucinating?" His forehead creased in a frown, and due to the voice's faintness, he wondered if it might be an illusion.

Yet, driv by curiosity, he closed his eyes, attempting to height his sse of hearing for a momt.

"Wuuu...." A soft, drawn-out sound emerged, gradually gaining clarity.

Leon was certain this wasn't a mere illusion, so he kept his eyes shut, focusing on sharping his hearing.

"Wooooo! I want to play with Daddy! Wooooo!"

The sound—unmistakably the cry of a child—jolted Leon awake, prompting him to op his eyes.

"This voice... Fiona!?" Surprise painted his face, and in an instant, he recalled his initial inttion!

"Damn it! I forgot that I wanted to go to the gard to play with Fiona!" He nearly leaped from his place, consumed by guilt for neglecting his little daughter!

Despite having promised to accompany her in play, he had brok that promise on the very first day!

Sure ough, he wasn't fit to be a good father yet!

"No! I have to go over there and apologize!" Leon panicked, fearing the possibility of being hated by his adorable little girl.

Without consideration for the Hall of Glory behind him, he sprinted out of the hall, guided solely by the direction from which the crying voice emanated.

After all, he was initially lost, and this voice could certainly lead him toward the gard where Fiona was crying right now!

However, what escaped his notice was that the momt his figure vanished from the trance of the Hall of Glory, the red eyes of all the Demon Emperor paintings on the walls, excluding Liliana's, suddly shifted mysteriously in the direction of his departure.

Particularly notable was the painting at the far d of the hall, where the Second Demon Emperor, Morgan Crimson, suddly exhibited a smile, as if the image of his lips had moved of its own accord.