“Did Aslan tell you?”
Her true identity had been exposed. Angie tried to find out why by turning her gaze to Aslan, but Aslan silently shook his head. Seeing this reaction from Aslan, the Count of Shengqilu spoke up.
“It wasn’t Aslan who told me. I figured it out myself.”
He interpreted their actions and said so. Even though it was just their behavior, Angie flinched at being seen through, but the Count simply smiled faintly at the girl’s reaction.
“That’s an expression asking ‘how did you know.’ This is the territory of the Shengqilu Count, where the domain of the Supreme Divinity and the inevitable forces of the universe collide. If we don’t stay informed about the movements of deities and remain negligent, this place could fall quickly.”
As Angie blinked, not fully understanding the content, the Count pointed at Aslan.
“Of course, I have more confidence because Aslan confirmed it for me, but considering that you fought against a high priest within the system and that all deities—even those who are usually inactive like predators or the abyss—are moving, there’s no need for further investigation. Since the creation of the gods, something like this has never happened, so the answer was simple.”
Then he chuckled leisurely. Angie, reading the ease in that smile, frowned as the Count helped Harrod to his feet.
“In any case, Aslan came to me for help. He asked me to hide him. And I agreed—I would do so. That was a week ago.”
Angie already knew what happened afterward. She had slept for a week and had just woken up. But even someone as inexperienced as Angie could tell that the intentions of the Count were unclear.
With a puzzled expression she couldn’t erase, Angie asked:
“…Why are you helping… us?”
One must use honorifics when speaking to an older noble. Realizing this belatedly, Angie hastily added respect to her words, causing the Count to shrug.
“Because I owe Aslan a debt. Isn’t that right?”
Debt?
Confused, Angie looked on as the Count laughed heartily.
“When my daughter was dying from a Wild Wizard’s curse, Aslan saved her life. He found the Wild Wizard, defeated him, and lifted the curse. He didn’t even ask for any reward before leaving.”
Aslan gave an awkward smile. The mention of past events didn’t seem to bother him.
“You didn’t take the gold coins?”
“That was because you refused the marriage proposal.”
Listening silently to their conversation, Angie was startled when marriage was suddenly brought up. Only Harrod, exhausted and difficult to read, remained expressionless.
“Don’t you know? Sending someone like me would only make you regret it.”
“That’s something we can’t know. What does it matter if one isn’t a noble? My daughter seems to like you quite a bit. The offer still stands.”
“On the contrary, I respectfully decline. Marriage is a luxury I cannot afford.”
Meanwhile, Aslan and the Count seemed to be discussing something trivial.
In fact, they acted as if neither was trying to persuade the other, finishing the conversation with indifference.
Watching these two, Angie hesitantly spoke up.
“So, is this… an engagement thing?”
“Hmm, it’s more like a marriage. I also intended to name you my successor.”
The so-called son-in-law. Angie couldn’t understand why Aslan had rejected it, yet felt an inexplicable sense of relief, finding the situation strange.
On the other hand, Aslan gazed downward indifferently, a clear sense of regret flickering in his eyes—not current regret, but distant, old regret.
Just as Angie was about to ask something, she stopped upon seeing that regret.
“Well then.”
At this, the Count, who had been observing both Angie and Aslan, clapped his hands to draw attention and directed his gaze toward Angie.
“Is there anything else you want to ask?”
“…No, sir.”
“Then let’s get to the main point.”
Hearing Angie’s reply, the Count nodded.
“The Shengqilu family has never failed to repay a debt. If you asked to be hidden, then I must hide you. Besides, your group isn’t large—just three people—so hiding you shouldn’t expose you.”
That was certainly true. At least, Angie thought so, but Aslan shook his head, indicating otherwise.
“I apologize for lying. In fact, you, Lord Count, cannot hide us.”
“Hmm?”
Aslan explained to the curious Count. It was an explanation laced with lies.
“They have the ability to detect the presence of an ancient deity’s prophet. They might already know we’re here.”
But it was a lie rooted in truth.
Only Aslan, who had experienced it in the game, knew the reality.
The starting point and endpoint of the next main quest was here, at the Shengqilu Count’s domain.
As the Count’s expression hardened, Aslan looked at him and spoke.
It was a choice made for survival.
While Angie and Harrod struggled to keep up with the sudden turn of events, blinking repeatedly, Aslan continued.
“So, let me tell you the real favor: please fight alongside us.”
The Count’s face remained stiff.
“Are you saying I should sacrifice the lives of my subjects and soldiers for your sake?”
It was understandable why the Count, who had been friendly just moments ago, reacted this way. Facing an entire sect wouldn’t be easy.
Thus, Aslan closed his eyes tightly and chose his words carefully.
After deliberation, he spoke.
“Whether you help us or not, the inevitability of the universe will definitely attack here.”
The Count remained silent, closing his mouth without answering.
Aslan, grateful for the Count’s patience, added:
“This place is a strategic location where one can travel to the Vida Kingdom, the Varmanz Mountain Kingdom, the southern continent via sea routes, or even the city of Wizards.”
The city of Shengqilus, fortified by a salt lake and sturdy fortresses, was the empire’s spearhead between two nations, yet its access to maritime routes through the salt lake connected it to broader seas.
“Even if we had passed through without asking for help, they would attack here, burn it down, and search for our next position amidst the ashes.”
“Hmm…”
The Count seemed to agree with this statement, tightly closing his eyes and sighing deeply.
Under different circumstances, he might have dismissed it outright, but the situation was different.
The title “ancient deity’s prophet” carried enough weight for that.
“It’s not just about fighting together or instead of you. I will lead the battle, and the ancient deity’s prophet will stand with me at the forefront.”
When the Count looked at Aslan, Aslan confidently placed a hand on Angie’s shoulder. Angie flinched at the fiery determination blazing in Aslan’s eyes.
“There’s a chance to win.”
The potential of the ancient deity’s prophet is tremendous—so much so that even deities covet it.
The veteran of battles has proven his abilities time and again. The world knows of his accomplishments, so the Count couldn’t deny this confidence.
Not denying it, Aslan proposed:
“Therefore, I propose that you fight alongside us. Support us with troops, weapons, and positions.”
“If I do that, what will you give me in return?”
“Revenge against the inevitability of the universe that took your wife. And I’ll provide you with the opportunity to thoroughly eliminate the high priests they cherish.”
The Count pondered over this statement.
Aslan’s offer was truthful, sincere, and filled with confidence in his determined gaze and voice. The Count honestly wrestled with conflicting emotions.
Though it exceeded the scope of repaying a debt, the Count still deliberated.
His contemplation soon turned into words.
“Do you really believe you can win? Your opponent is a high priest. You yourself mentioned that they’re beyond reach.”
That was indeed true. Ereta is strong. A high priest, but also a monstrous woman who is a master of blunt weapons.
However, only within the confines of priesthood does she hold such power. It’s not as though she’s unbeatable.
There exist beings stronger than her in the world.
“For high priests of other deities, no matter what we do now, we wouldn’t stand a chance. But… for Saintess Ereta of Slaughter, there’s a chance.”
The Count waited for an answer, and Aslan responded:
“The inevitability of the universe is a tripartite god. They call themselves the Three Evil Deities—a grandiose name. Unlike other gods, they are divided into three destructive deities of doom.”
As one might guess from the name “inevitability of the universe,” their role is the destruction of the universe.
The end of the universe that will eventually come—the three gods responsible for that conclusion.
A spider weaving fire, destined to consume the entire universe in flames.
A dragon spitting poison, destined to turn the universe into a puddle of venom.
A giant shattering the earth beneath its feet, destined to reduce everything to dust.
They are three, yet one. Distinct, yet their power is undivided.
“Their god is three in one, and their power is one-third that of other gods. Combined, they equal one whole. Likewise, the strength of their high priests pales compared to those of other gods.”
The inevitability of the universe has three high priests—one for each of the Three Evil Deities.
Though numerous, their power is weaker compared to high priests of other gods.
“Because of this, Ereta became a master of blunt weapons. She internalized the concept of human nothingness.”
“A high priest with mastery—that sounds like a tough opponent, doesn’t it?”
“Tough, yes. But not unbeatable. We can win.”
The Count mulled over Aslan’s proposal.
Had the offer been solely for personal revenge, he would have refused. However, it was a proposal necessary for survival.
Although personal revenge followed the offer, survival took precedence, so it wasn’t significant.
The Count wanted to fulfill his duty as a lord.
With the added benefit of repaying a debt, it was a hard offer to refuse.
Too sweet to resist for a moment, it was an irresistible offer.
The Count hesitated as he looked at Aslan.
But the hesitation didn’t last long.
Aslan had saved the Count’s daughter without accepting any payment. When offered a marriage proposal, Aslan declined, stating that tragedy would inevitably follow if he stayed in this land.
Instead, he left, claiming it was something he naturally had to do. Though he accepted a handful of gold coins, it was a small amount compared to saving the daughter of a great noble.
Knowing Aslan’s character, the Count sighed.
“Had anyone else made such a proposal, I surely wouldn’t have accepted it. I would have suspected a trap.”
“…Is that so?”
“I trust you because you’ve proven yourself.”
The Count extended his hand. Aslan stared at it for a moment before shaking it lightly—an agreement.
At the end of the handshake, the Count spoke:
“I accept your proposal. Let’s fight together.”
Aslan smiled faintly at the Count’s words—a pure, unburdened smile.
“Let’s kill the high priest.”
