“···Terrible.”
The deep voice of the old man echoed through the audience chamber. Wherever his voice reached, what blossomed was the death of humans. And the pitiful state of those who had abandoned humanity.
Torn apart, crushed, and pierced—traces of these were everywhere.
And amidst those traces, death bloomed extravagantly.
As the old man moved his feet within the audience chamber, the silence of the dead was broken by the living. With each heavy step, his armor clanged noisily.
“···Truly, truly… terrible.”
There were two meanings in the words the old man muttered under his breath.
One was that this atrocity was terrible, and the other was that it was terrible for those lying dead here to have abandoned their humanity.
Approaching the emperor whose neck had been broken, the old man did so even amidst the desolation.
“···Your Majesty as well.”
The old man’s expression was deeply etched with fatigue, similar to what Aslan had shown not long ago. Ilyena noticed this and quietly clasped her hands together.
“If you didn’t trust me… all you had to do was say something… How could you renounce being human…?”
Clad in armor, the old knight known as Reynold of the Silent Spear straightened the emperor’s body.
He aligned the broken neck, closed the wide-open eyes, and wiped away the spilled blood.
“To fail in my duty twice… I never dreamed it would come to this.”
With a mournful sigh, the old man lifted the emperor’s body, causing Ilyena standing behind him to wear a bitter expression.
“Did they really… flee?”
When Reynold asked while closing his eyes, Ilyena recalled Aslan’s intentions within her blank expression.
If it were revealed that Ilyena was involved or implicated in the assassination of the emperor during the transfer of power, the transfer and coronation ceremony would inevitably lead to friction.
That’s why Aslan disappeared after instructing Ilyena to call the captain of the guard.
To make things easier to pin on them, Aslan taught Ilyena what to tell the captain before she left the audience chamber.
The girl brought forth this statement as testimony.
“Yes, as soon as they murdered Your Majesty… my brother… an unknown energy enveloped them, and then they vanished. Along with that energy.”
*
“···What? We didn’t do anything like that.”
Among the bustling crowd, three figures walked cloaked in large mantles with hoods pulled up over their heads.
Though they might have drawn attention, strangely, they did not. They cut diagonally across the throng.
One of them, a girl with crimson hair hidden beneath her large mantle and hood, spoke.
Aslan, the man with black hair and teal eyes, glanced sideways upon hearing her words. Harrod adjusted the makeshift cloak wrapped around him and looked at the girl, and when both their gazes fell on her, the girl let out a dissatisfied grunt.
‘Harrod will explain.’
Seeing Angie’s posture, Aslan passed the responsibility for explanation to Harrod. His gaze flickered toward the towering figure of the dragonkin, whose red-scaled form met Aslan’s yellow slit-pupiled eyes.
“Hmm, certainly. The magic you used is not something everyone knows. Even among the sorcerers of Belus Alphen, many use it, so it shouldn’t be considered an ‘unknown force’…”
Perhaps pointing out that they didn’t escape using some mysterious force should start there, but Harrod didn’t seem to think about it, merely gazing silently at Aslan.
Despite their reactions, Aslan explained anyway.
“To plant the misconception regarding the ancient deity’s words.”
“A misconception…?”
“The misconception that the ancient deity’s words already serve a deity and are a priest.”
That was why he mentioned an ‘unknown force.’ In Geladridion, where the existence of deities and ancient deities was acknowledged, in an era where every kind of power was already uncovered, the only thing that could still be called “unknown” and “unidentifiable” was divine power.
On the other hand, neither Harrod nor Angie seemed to fully understand. They stared at Aslan with vacant expressions.
‘Even Harrod, who’s somewhat close to nobility, doesn’t know…’
Angie, born into poverty with an education that can be described as tenuous at best, might be excusable, but the fact that Harrod didn’t know was quite shocking, which made Aslan look troubled.
With such an expression, leading the way, Aslan shrugged off Angie’s comment.
“So what? Do we really need to go through all this? If priests or whatever show up, we just beat them all, right?”
Then she grinned smugly. Aslan glanced at the girl.
Her words didn’t seem like mere empty talk meant to boost morale.
It appeared that she hadn’t struggled against the priests and that everything had gone smoothly according to Aslan’s plans, making her overly confident.
Shaking his head, Aslan replied.
“If only one priest shows up, maybe. But if there are more than one, things won’t go so smoothly. We’d surely struggle.”
Angie seemed disgruntled that her statement was refuted, but she listened attentively as Aslan continued.
“And if a high priest appears, there’d be no hope. We don’t have the strength to defeat two priests simultaneously right now. So, we need to avoid their eyes for now and grow stronger.”
And that’s the strategy. Upon adding this, Angie looked unimpressed as she stared at Aslan.
“…But earlier, you said you wouldn’t know unless you fought, and if you didn’t fight, you’d definitely lose.”
Muttering, Angie caused Aslan to chuckle softly.
Exactly as it seemed, Angie hadn’t shed her youthful brashness yet.
Briefly explaining while weaving through the crowd, Aslan said,
“That’s true. If you don’t fight, you’ll definitely lose. You won’t know until you try. But once you start fighting, you can’t stop. That’s why you must prepare thoroughly before engaging in battle.”
“What difference does it make?”
“Hmm… how should I put it?”
Leading the way, Aslan stroked his chin and spoke based on his gaming experiences.
“A priest could win even without preparation if you or Harrod helped.”
However, pausing, Aslan leaned against a wall to evade the approaching crowd. Turning to his companions, he added:
“A high priest is a monster that an unprepared person cannot defeat.”
Even priests could be considered monsters, but high priests were worse.
With far greater physical abilities and potent powers, high priests could almost be called demigods.
Thus, no matter how capable Aslan might be, facing them directly was something he wanted to avoid. Even with extensive preparations and strategies, guaranteeing a 100% victory was impossible.
Of course, with his level having increased, things might be different now, but Aslan wasn’t willing to gamble with his life unnecessarily.
Upon hearing the term “high priest,” Harrod nodded in agreement and leaned against the wall.
“Angela Tail, no matter how much stronger you’ve become… it’s best to be cautious before a high priest. As Aslan says, high priests are monsters. Please heed Aslan’s advice…”
“Do such things even exist? You’re just scared!”
In response to Harrod’s nagging, Angie answered and stepped forward.
Harrod watched the girl’s retreating back.
“It seems she’s gained too much confidence.”
Possibly because she became a Wordbearer of the Ancient Deity and easily obtained powers surpassing humanity, her confidence skyrocketed.
Aslan thought this and commented accordingly, but…
“…Hmm, not exactly. Don’t you remember? Angela Tail was always like that. She never feared anyone stronger or in greater numbers, yelling and charging forward regardless.”
Harrod shook his head in reply.
“It’s all in her nature.”
The slightly nostalgic tone in the dragonkin’s voice made Aslan exhale a sigh while detaching himself from the wall.
“We’ve indulged enough. Before Angie gets lost…”
At the word “indulgence,” Harrod grimaced just as Aslan felt a chill run down his spine.
Beyond his usual tingling sensation, it was as if someone was drilling into his brain with a needle—a chilling feeling.
This was undoubtedly the effect of fate.
Aslan’s eyes darted in the direction of the sensation.
A woman stood beneath the drawbridge in the distance, also cloaked in a linen mantle like Aslan, Angie, and Harrod.
Her striking pink eyes and white hair were unmistakable despite the cloak.
And the massive axe slung on her back.
Aslan recognized the woman.
And the woman recognized Aslan.
Their eyes met, and Aslan summoned mana, shouting,
“Angie, get down!”
The gathered mana flowed through his heart to his arm and burst from his palm in the shape resembling a shield.
From afar, the cloaked woman gripped her colossal axe, taller than herself, which followed her movements as she leaned.
A sinister sensation prickled Aslan’s skin. Clenching his teeth, Aslan knew the incoming attack.
It was a throw.
KWAHHH!
The air screamed as the axe flew, thunderous roars echoing. It tore through everyone standing between it and Aslan.
Amidst flying chunks of flesh, the axe approached.
ZZZEEEEENG!
The flying axe collided with the protective barrier Aslan erected. The sound wasn’t that of a thrown weapon meeting a hastily conjured magical shield.
It sounded like a cannonball hitting its mark.
“KRUUUUUGH…!”
The shield warped. Cracks formed. Visible lines and fractures appeared in the air, making Harrod, standing behind, gasp.
Blood streamed from Aslan’s eyes and mouth. Stretching out both hands, he maintained the barrier.
CREEEAK, KRAAAKK!
The moment the barrier shattered, Aslan retracted his arms, gripping his sword hilt. In less than half a breath, he drew his blade and swung upward.
KWAHHHHAANG!
A deafening boom resounded as the flying axe deflected, scraping the ground and smashing into a building.
Amidst the searing pain, as if his arm was breaking, Aslan barely managed to hold onto his sword despite using wild magic. This signified one thing.
With a gloomy expression, Aslan planted his sword into the ground and panted.
Noticing Aslan’s condition, the girl who had been walking ahead returned, and people screamed and fled amid the scattered corpses from the projectile.
“What… What happened?!”
As Angie rushed over and extended her hand, Aslan grabbed it, straightening his bent knees and struggling to rise.
Harrod, witnessing Aslan’s state and the events, sighed, drew his weapon, and raised his shield.
“Great fire, lend me your power…”
Wiping the blood tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, Aslan murmured in a voice laced with exhaustion.
“Angie, it seems the worst-case scenario has occurred.”
Confused, the girl wore a puzzled expression, but Aslan paid no heed and retrieved the sword he had plunged into the ground.
“I don’t know why they’ve appeared, but… the high priest we talked about earlier has shown up.”
Unable to respond to Aslan’s words, the woman crossing the drawbridge smiled faintly, as if she had heard what Aslan had said.
