Cornil Ashuld nervously chewed his fingernails.
The wizards who observed him also wore expressions of unease, but surprisingly, the overall atmosphere of the procession wasn’t too bad.
This was partly because most of the procession consisted of soldiers who couldn’t even guess the reason for Cornil Ashuld’s anxiety and partly because Aslan was present.
Cornil Ashuld glanced briefly at Aslan, positioned roughly in the center of the procession, then returned to nervously chewing his nails.
‘Damn it, when are we going to arrive?’
The source of Cornil Ashuld’s unease lay outside the procession.
Cornil Ashuld believed there was no way to suppress Aslan.
Aslan was powerful and, making matters worse, was an ancient deity’s steed.
Attempting suppression with only soldiers and wizards, without any martial monks, would inevitably lead to predictable outcomes.
Rather than rushing into things, Cornil Ashuld intended to betray at the opportune moment. He had repeatedly sent urgent messages requesting the assistance of martial monks to the royal court.
He had sent twelve such messages, yet not a single martial monk had arrived.
On the other hand, Aslan too was growing restless with similar thoughts.
‘It’s about time a martial monk or two should’ve shown up… It’s strange that absolutely no one has come.’
Based on past experiences from games and events in Geladridion, Aslan anticipated friction with martial monks and had prepared accordingly.
Contrary to expectations, however, the martial monks hadn’t appeared.
But Aslan didn’t panic. A deviation from predictions was within the realm of expectation.
Instead, the absence of martial monks pointed to one clear fact.
‘Are other priests moving? Faster than I thought.’
Other priests and deities might be acting to check the Supreme Divinity. Perhaps they were already clashing in a slaughter.
Though this deviated slightly from the original plan, Aslan remained calm due to this consideration.
Fewer priests were better, and if they killed each other, it would be ideal.
If they were busy fighting among themselves and paid less attention to Aslan, it would make maneuvering easier.
Of course, some fine-tuning was necessary, but given the advantages, Aslan wasn’t upset. In fact, it presented an opportunity.
While Aslan was lost in these thoughts, resting his wrist on the hilt of his sword, a soldier pulling a creaking cart nearby called out.
“Veteran!”
Aslan snapped out of his thoughts and straightened up. His train of thought flowed through his body, pulling him back to reality.
Because of this delay, Aslan turned his head toward the soldier somewhat tardily.
Despite the sluggish response, the soldier grinned warmly.
“Aren’t you tired? There’s still space in the cart. Would you like to ride?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. Walking keeps my senses sharp and maintains vigilance.”
Aslan waved his hand to decline, and the soldier chuckled sheepishly.
“That’s a shame! If you ever feel like riding, just let me know anytime!”
With a slight nod from Angie standing nearby, the soldier seemed unconcerned and quickened his pace, moving forward. The soldier disappeared quickly among the countless shoulders of the procession ahead.
As the procession momentarily split, Aslan noticed wizards sending mixed glances through the ranks of soldiers.
Their gazes encompassed both Aslan and the soldiers.
When Aslan met their eyes, the thinly veiled resentment and fear quickly dissipated.
Aslan sensed two contrasting emotions flowing through the procession.
In short, Aslan’s efforts to win favor among the soldiers weren’t entirely wasted.
Not all of it was purely strategy; the soldiers began to see Aslan in a positive light, unable to distinguish between his genuine actions and tactics.
Even the title “Emperor Assassin,” which carried weight among soldiers, was gradually changing its meaning.
This was partly due to their vague knowledge of the circumstances surrounding the emperor’s assassination.
Killing a national emperor to protect a child was shocking to the nobility but didn’t resonate much with the mostly commoner soldiers.
After all, to the common people, emperors and nobles were distant figures of high authority.
Regardless, the image-making worked well, and the soldiers treated Aslan freely and warmly.
‘The system will surely spread this image effectively.’
Two weeks had passed since leaving Count Scherlukunde’s territory and crossing into Ashuld’s domain.
It was around the time to consider the effects of the preparatory work done for the system.
And Aslan believed that, while not dramatic, the effects would sufficiently fulfill their role.
Everything was proceeding according to plan. As Aslan cleared his thoughts, he noticed commotion at the front of the procession.
“What’s happening?”
Annoyance flickered across Angie’s face beside him, but no one offered an explanation. The procession slowly decelerated and came to a halt. Beyond the procession, something began to approach.
It was cavalry.
More than twenty horsemen approached en masse, splitting to flank Aslan.
‘So, you’re coming this way?’
Recognizing the insignia on the approaching cavalry’s armor, Aslan smirked.
As soldiers murmured in confusion at the sight of the cavalry, they began to encircle Aslan.
The cavalry halted at a distance perfect for charging horses but far enough that infantry couldn’t reach them.
Aslan looked at the knights with a suppressed smirk, knowing this was somewhat expected.
Then, a knight emerged from among the cavalry.
His gleaming black armor matched the dark spear in his hand. With a black eye patch over his left eye and deep wrinkles etched into his face, the knight rode toward Aslan at a slow trot.
“Veteran of combat, Aslan. His Majesty the Emperor summons you. Follow along quietly, and nothing will happen.”
A voice tinged with disdain and faint anger. Recognizing the knight despite pretending otherwise, Aslan rolled his eyes.
His teal gaze turned to the soldiers, who appeared confused but harbored some sort of dissatisfaction. Aslan understood how best to respond.
Leaning casually, he tilted his chin upward as he replied.
“No.”
*
“No? Why not?”
Something is burning.
Everything is ablaze, nothing spared. Amidst the flames spreading across the sky, the soot rising from scorched trees glows red and flutters in the air.
Between swirling embers, sparks fly wildly, creating an apocalyptic scene. Within this fiery panorama, someone sits silently observing.
It was a woman.
Of average height with a slender waist and a well-proportioned figure hidden beneath a silk nun’s habit, her mysterious snow-white bob exuded kindness, and her soft pink eyes radiated warmth.
Despite her benevolent and pitiable appearance, the woman sat atop a massive battleaxe, staring down at the kneeling figure before her.
“I’m getting sleepy. Why are you causing trouble? I’m already tired.”
Her whiny tone elicited a spurt of blood from the kneeling figure’s mouth.
Unlike the pristine human form of the woman, the kneeling figure was clearly not human.
The insect-like head bore singed antennae, and the lower jaw was shattered and dangling.
Typically resembling a martial monk, though this one had lost an arm and cracks ran across its chitinous armor.
Even so, the martial monk clicked its remaining jaw defiantly as it spoke.
“Gl, ssse. If I offer your head as tribute… I might tell you.”
The woman frowned at this response, then gently extended her hand toward the kneeling figure’s face.
“Crunch!”
“AAAAHHH!”
She pressed her fingers into the compound eyes. A loud crack sounded as they burst, and the martial monk grabbed her hand with its remaining limb, but…
“Why do you say such nasty things? You’re making me look foolish.”
Without effort, she pressed deeper into the eye socket and extracted it with her finger.
The martial monk wheezed, spitting blood and fluid from its damaged eye.
“Isn’t it a simple question? Just tell me where the ancient deity’s steed is going and what it’s doing.”
The woman pouted mockingly, and the martial monk clicked its jaws in derision.
“Polite…? Ha… laughable…”
The martial monk rotated its remaining compound eye.
All around, everything burned. Among the inferno were several familiar faces.
These familiar faces all possessed insect-like heads and bodies, lying dead but armored and armed.
There were six martial monks visible. Depending on the composition, they could have taken on an entire noble army without suffering a single casualty.
Yet, they fell without even grazing an opponent’s cloak.
Even accounting for surprise attacks, this was unprecedented.
Unprecedented, normally.
The martial monk chuckled despite labored breathing amid the roaring heat.
“Hmm, isn’t this quite polite?”
The woman leaned her chin on her hand as she responded to the knight’s laughter.
“Everyone knows the Supreme Divinity holds the ancient deity’s steed, right? That’s why everyone is hastily sending priests. We were simply the first to encounter you since we live next to your territory.”
“Were words exchanged? Who threw the axe first?”
Despite the martial monk’s sharp retort, the woman nonchalantly reached out and stroked its cheek. The coarse chitin bristles sizzled under her heated touch.
“Grrr…”
“So, this is quite polite. If we had been holding it, wouldn’t you have sent the Supreme Divinity’s Sword?”
The mention of the Supreme Divinity’s Sword contorted the martial monk’s insectoid face.
“And wasn’t a high priest sent from your side too?”
The woman placed her hand on her chest as she spoke.
The martial monk laughed bitterly.
That the word “Supreme Divinity’s Sword” slipped so easily from her lips was absurd, yet understandable.
For a high priest was such an entity.
A priest transcends humanity. Wielding divine power, they possess formidable physical strength and abilities, surpassing ordinary humans.
A high priest, in essence, was a priest above priests.
Possessing physical capabilities far beyond those of regular priests, wielding the power of the deity’s right hand, they were entities capable of serving as deputies.
Each deity could appoint only one high priest.
They were, indeed, semi-divine beings.
Rooted solely in Geladridion.
Each deity could appoint only one high priest. The sole exception to this rule was the trio of deities served by the woman before them.
The inevitability of the universe.
The three great evils destined to conclude the universe.
One of them, the high priest of the spider wielding fire, and the master of bludgeons.
“The Saintess of Slaughter, Ereta.”
“Oh, have you figured it out? Shall I give you a prize?”
The woman giggled softly, either amused by the licking flames caressing her or by being addressed by name, then gently stroked the martial monk’s head.
Even so, the monk lifted its head and sneered.
“Foolish. Do you truly think a mere novice saint, wielding blunt weapons, can reach the heights attained by the Supreme Divinity’s Sword?”
As the woman paused, the monk growled.
“How can someone who serves trivialities comprehend the will of the gods? Comparing you to the Supreme Divinity’s Sword is itself arrogance…”
At the monk’s continued insults, the woman pouted and extended her hand, pressing her thumb firmly into the remaining compound eye until it popped out.
“AAARRRRGGHHH!”
“You really don’t understand women, do you? Ignoring what bothers me is basic etiquette.”
“C-Crkh… You hit the mark… Three evil gods… all talk… Your deity needs all three to stand a chance…”
“Are you going to say more nasty things?”
A sizzling sound arose as the chitin in her grip burned, eliciting a scream from the monk.
“If you won’t speak, I’ll search myself.”
As the monk, having lost both eyes and succumbing to rising body temperature, weakly raised its head and smiled.
“One day, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword… will take your head.”
Upon hearing this, Ereta stared intently and fell silent. As the monk’s expression hardened in confusion, she spoke.
“You didn’t know I’ve been tracking you, did you? Our destination was exposed…”
“Wh-why…?”
Just as the monk’s smiling expression froze, a massive battleaxe descended upon its head.
The axe cleanly split the chitin, scorching the interior as flames consumed the body.
The bisected corpse trembled before collapsing to either side. Smiling, Ereta responded to the now lifeless body.
“Guess I wanted to?”
Amid the burning forests of Mount Shizudinal, the woman laughed amidst the inferno.
Surrounded by flames, she alone stood unscathed.
