Aslan stared at the God of Defeat.
More precisely, he recalled past events involving that God of Defeat.
To Aslan, it wasn’t too distant a past, but by the world’s standards, it was quite a long time ago.
The God of Defeat was a betrayer who became a priest of the Supreme Divinity alongside their twin and spouse, the God of Victory.
In exchange for that betrayal, they gained an overflowing life force and charged forward, allowing Aslan to vividly recall their appearance.
Even though Aslan was not connected to regeneration, they possessed considerable regenerative powers—equal to Ereta’s in her prime—a formidable adversary indeed.
If it were a pure 100% ancient deity immune to purity or one steeped in divine power, it would have been difficult to defeat.
However, since that wasn’t the case, the God of Defeat met their end in failure.
Unlike the God of Victory, whose soul was erased by the stars, the God of Defeat merely had their body dismembered while their soul remained intact.
An occurrence possible only because they were an ancient deity capable of both life and death.
At the time, it was thought that their soul had been consumed alongside the Supreme Divinity, but evidently, that wasn’t the case.
Aslan gazed at the God of Defeat, forming and discarding various hypotheses.
“Could they have survived here all this time? Confined?”
No, that didn’t seem right; there were too many unanswered questions.
“Could history have altered slightly, allowing them to survive?”
Yet Aslan’s influence on the fabric of the world remained undisturbed.
“Did I fail to kill them?”
That also seemed unlikely; Aslan clearly remembered defeating the God of Defeat.
Clearly, the God of Defeat had returned to life.
Realizing this, Aslan couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.
The emperor’s decree mentioned specters appearing.
Initially dismissed as mere words, Aslan now understood no better description fit.
This deity was truly nothing more than a specter, a being that should not exist in this land.
Aslan glanced at the God of Defeat with doubt.
Valerie’s words came to mind—the prediction that things would become harder from here on.
Adding just one more opponent wouldn’t significantly increase the difficulty, especially considering this was a deity Aslan had already defeated before.
While Aslan considered this, the God of Defeat noticed the look in his eyes.
“That gaze….”
She realized from that look that Aslan was truly the one who had killed her back then.
“How can you be here? It’s been thousands of years…”
Her disheveled hair partially covered her face as she muttered nervously.
Wobbling to her feet, she faced numerous crossbows aimed directly at her.
“Answer me! Who are you…?”
Click.
Approaching closer within the iron bars toward Aslan, who gave no reply, the woman eventually sank down, glancing at the crossbows pointed at her.
Only after the tension eased did the traveling party speak up.
“Do you know each other?”
Phey asked. Angie glanced at Aslan, unsure if responding was appropriate.
“An ancient deity,” Tiamat answered instead, recognizing instantly alongside Aslan the presence beyond human comprehension.
The group was startled.
“There’s no way! Ancient deities were surely all destroyed…”
Ereta, particularly shocked, trailed off, recalling something.
‘A specter has appeared.’
Remembering those words from the decree, some in the group gasped as footsteps approached from behind.
Thud, thud.
The steady, confident steps belonged to someone self-assured in their strength and status.
One by one, heads turned as the approaching figure spoke.
“That statement is correct. The gods have all passed into sorrow’s embrace. At this moment, the sole remaining deity is Lady Angela Tail.”
His voice grew louder as he crossed the dim gate and stopped.
“Any other so-called gods discovered are either fallen, transformed into monsters, or reduced to even worse states. Similarly… this thing is neither fully a god nor entirely not a god.”
Vague yet certain words. The group looked up as the young man stepped into view.
He was undoubtedly a warrior.
Noble attire adorned his frame, with heavy armor and two broad curved swords strapped to his back.
His towering stature, comparable to Aslan’s, was complemented by prominent green muscles that hinted at extraordinary strength.
Even beneath his clothing, faintly glowing mana tattoos added to his imposing presence, causing soldiers without crossbows to kneel in respect.
Confused by the unfamiliar face, the group watched as Aslan recognized him.
Though seeing him for the first time, Aslan knew this was someone rarely seen even in the game.
Having ascended to his position following the previous emperor’s passing ten years prior, encountering him in the game would have been unlikely regardless.
Still, there was no issue.
For the green-skinned youth made no effort to hide his authority.
With neatly combed white hair, green skin, and striking golden eyes, this green-skinned youth wielded immense power over the southern continent, ruling the largest nation and owning the Greenskin Fortress.
“Glory to the great Emperor Bihill!”
He was the emperor.
Just as Aslan prepared to greet him, a commotion arose from behind.
Clanging metal and heavy breathing indicated the God of Defeat gripping the iron bars, contorting her face as if about to shout.
Before she could, one of the crossbows fired an arrow.
Whoosh, crack!
“Guh…!”
The arrow pierced her abdomen, causing her to collapse onto the ground.
After a brief struggle, she pulled out the arrow and threw it aside.
Only then did Aslan notice the scattered bloodstains across the iron bars.
Her tattered appearance and dull eyes were far from accidental.
“I do not require your greetings. I am not noble enough to receive salutations from the last remaining deity of this era and their companions.”
With a modest tone, the emperor shifted his gaze, laced with disdain, toward the group behind them.
Disdain directed at the God of Defeat.
Aslan observed the emperor and spoke.
“You say that, but there is an ancient deity over there.”
Uncomfortable with the term “ancient deity,” the emperor hesitated momentarily but nodded without further comment.
“Yes, but as I said, it’s not entirely a god. Just… a traitor.”
Before Aslan could respond to this label, the iron bars rattled again.
“Traitor? You call me a traitor?!”
The God of Defeat roared ferociously.
“The one who willingly chose defeat, who didn’t even consider resistance, was Father! I merely sought to preserve greatness and ensure more survival—”
Before she could finish, the emperor clicked his tongue, and another volley of arrows was fired.
Three heavy bolts shot simultaneously, prompting the God of Defeat to push against the bars.
BOOM!
The arrows slammed into where she had stood moments earlier.
Dodging the second one by twisting her body, her legs gave out.
“Aaaah!”
The third arrow missed its mark. Piercing her spine, it burst through her stomach and protruded from her front.
The scene was so brutal that Ereta flinched, rubbing her thighs and lower abdomen with a strange expression.
The God of Defeat slid along the iron bars, pierced from back to front.
Shaking violently, the deity soon saw the crossbow arrows snap off and fall to the floor.
Her labored breathing filled the air. Observing this, Aslan understood how she had been captured, even if the exact process remained unclear.
Initially, she likely evaded most arrows, but under relentless bombardment, her strength gradually diminished until she reached this state.
Understanding the group’s gaze, the emperor explained.
“You may disregard that abomination’s words. After all, they betrayed the gods and clung to the false Supreme Divinity.”
Despite the trembling defiance of the God of Defeat, the emperor shrugged nonchalantly.
“In the midst of that, they were defeated and killed by a mere human hero. Truly, a fitting failure and betrayal.”
Exhausted, the God of Defeat could no longer cry out. Instead, the emperor continued.
“Ordinarily, such a traitor shouldn’t even exist. But as you see, they live—more accurately, they’ve been resurrected.”
Naturally transitioning to the main topic, the emperor smiled as the group turned their attention.
Aslan, seeing this smile, confirmed his suspicions.
“Are there more specters?”
Posing the question with certainty,
“Aslan is indeed the person we heard about. I’m relieved.”
The emperor effectively acknowledged the existence of more specters.
And without hesitation, he revealed the worst-case scenario.
“Not just simple specters. Ancient heroes, monsters, and priests have also been resurrected.”
Some in the group frowned upon hearing this, but the emperor’s grin widened as if ready to share something even more horrifying.
“And these have been gathered by an evil deity, serving as priests. You’re witnessing a fragment of it now.”
At that moment, Aslan realized what the Dark Ram had orchestrated.
*
“Unconquered Bijou, Tiyalmisof, Boren, Archbishop Ados, Evil Ghost, Omul, Patchwork.”
The emperor recited names one by one.
Sitting in a lavish room resembling a reception hall, the group fidgeted awkwardly as the emperor scrutinized their reactions.
“Do you recognize any commonality among these names?”
Lumel responded enthusiastically, delighted to showcase her knowledge.
“Yes, they’re all names of heroes or villains from before the ancient era, aren’t they?”
Impressed by the unexpected response, the emperor nodded approvingly.
Continuing, he provided explanations.
Unconquered Bijou was an emperor from the ancient empire era who greatly spread mana tattoos across the continent.
Tiyalmisof was the most accomplished mage and blacksmith in ancient imperial history.
Boren was a legendary mage who founded a new school of magic and supposedly ventured into the underworld.
Archbishop Ados served law and order, bringing lightning into the realm of magic, an unparalleled genius.
Evil Ghost, Omul, and Patchwork were notorious figures who sought divinity, embarking on journeys to ultimately achieve it themselves.
They were infamous figures tied to every major incident of the pre-ancient era, leaving most of the group astonished.
But Lumel’s excited expression caught the emperor’s eye, prompting him to continue despite visible discomfort.
“There’s another commonality among them. Do you know what it is?”
Another unexpected twist. However, the premise of naming heroes was itself surprising.
Thus, Aslan deduced correctly.
Contemplating internally, Aslan looked at the emperor, who confirmed,
“All of them are confirmed resurrections of specters.”
Upon hearing this, Lumel’s expression turned serious.
“All of them…?”
Richard, knowledgeable in ancient history, also adopted a grave demeanor.
Familiar names stirred unease within Aslan. Though anticipated, confirmation still brought shock.
Their potential transformation into priests of an evil deity was unsettling.
Observing the group’s reactions, the emperor nodded.
“Yes, all of them. And these are just the ones we’ve confirmed.”
This implied more specters existed, a fact the emperor validated.
“There are many specters the empire hasn’t yet identified. They appear suddenly, destroying indiscriminately or executing clever sabotage operations, threatening the empire and neighboring countries alike.”
Recalling Valerie’s words, Aslan listened as the emperor continued.
“We don’t know why this is happening, but we can’t just sit idly by. Two watchers have fallen, but in their place, we managed to capture the recently resurrected God of Defeat.”
A subtle smirk accompanied the emperor’s evident disdain toward the God of Defeat as he turned to Aslan.
“We aim to uncover the conditions and truth behind these appearances, devising ways to stop them. If left unchecked, Geladridion will face a great crisis.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
Tiamat interjected, prompting the emperor to glance briefly before stroking his chin.
“The situation is already tilting heavily. The Pervere Kingdom has fallen, and priests are actively moving throughout the land. Should ancient monsters and heroes join their ranks, humanity stands no chance.”
Aslan listened and met the emperor’s gaze.
“State your request.”
Persuasion was unnecessary. Aslan knew this mission was prepared specifically for him.
But the emperor, believing he had successfully convinced Aslan, nodded.
“Through torture, we learned some of these beings are located in the labyrinth that was once the territory of the Pervere Kingdom. Thus, I propose a mission to you, Aslan.”
The emperor declared firmly.
“Infiltrate with minimal personnel and gather intelligence. All possible support and assistance from the empire will be available, and upon success, the empire will unconditionally join your alliance…”
“I accept.”
Aslan agreed, reflecting on how much information had been uncovered while acknowledging the necessity of including the empire in any alliance.
Only the emperor appeared slightly surprised.
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