Chapter 95

[1750 B.C.]Calisto's POV

It was late autumn, the cold air was blowing in my face and a part of me wanted to die.

Why was that station so damn time-consuming?

I sighed and saw the smoke form as soon as the air left my lips.

I hated autumn, was as sure of it as I was sure that the throne I had fled from - would still be intact when I returned.

Even as I walked through the mortal lands with nothing but an ordinary sword and average clothes - I was able to get rid of Mammon’s voice in my mind.

"Lord! Come home! Your father can no longer handle so much stress," he said as if that old man deserved the drop of my concern.

I ignored.

Just as I had ignored when Belchior went up to try to convince me - or when Beelzebub came to visit me and simply seemed to have been forced to do so in order to convince me (which he did not intend to do).

"Why should I?" He mocked "have you ever seen that mountain of papers on your father’s desk? That is h