Smoke.
It is about assuming the guise of something, and adopting its attitudes, words, and actions.
That guise could be a fictional entity or something that once existed.
Ultimately, the object itself isn’t much of an issue. While methods may vary, even if it doesn’t exist or differs in kind, it can still be used for acting.
If there’s any condition, it might be knowing the subject well.
You can’t act as someone whose identity or nature you don’t know.
Even for Lumel, that was an impossible area.
Lumel realized this as he faced Omul looking at him.
A shadowy and pale face faintly appeared under the helmet, and the scarred arm with many stitched marks hung loosely.
Is choosing to not respond here really okay? He couldn’t be sure.
But Lumel soon realized that guessing was possible.
Simultaneously, the situation favored Lumel.
Omul had clearly referred to Lumel as a knight of Law and Order.
While Lumel knew almost nothing about the character of such a knight of Law and Order, he could still make some guesses.
A knight of Law and Order.
Probably a strict and rigid personality.
Even if not, he could at least figure out the general direction of how to respond.
The loosely hanging arm, and the blue spear held in its hand.
‘Anyway, since you stole it by cutting off my arm, remember that.’
Omul had directly said that he cut off his arm and took the spear.
Moreover, Lumel appeared as though he didn’t recognize these facts, pretending ignorance or feigning nonchalance.
Omul conveniently interpreted Lumel’s confusion.
Even the current silence was being taken by Omul as embarrassment upon being exposed.
Then the solution was simple.
Even if the acted-out appearance slightly differed, Omul would interpret and adjust it arbitrarily.
Connecting the memory of the knight of Law and Order with Lumel standing here now, Omul would gradually blend the hazy memories into the present.
Thus, what Lumel needed to do was simple.
He stiffened his expression and made a look of displeasure.
Seeing that expression, Omul hesitated.
Lumel glanced briefly at the blue electric spear and then looked up at Omul with raised eyes.
The giant, nearly as tall as Tiamat, trembled slightly under the upward gaze.
“Aah, as expected.”
And with satisfaction, he muttered as if he understood.
Upon seeing that reaction, Lumel realized this was close to the correct answer, erased other considerations, and fixed the direction of his performance.
Crisis planted inspiration in the woman, and the planted inspiration became attitude.
Mostly, it was the attitude Ereta tried not to show in front of Aslan but adopted when dealing with strangers.
She partially borrowed and recreated that attitude.
Since the nature of what Omul was mistaken about seemed similar to what Lumel had imagined, she maintained the approach.
At the same time, she reflected on new insights.
The knight must harbor hostility towards Omul.
Judging from the satisfactory response to Lumel’s raised and glaring eyes, this was certain.
So Lumel acted as if harboring hostility, being strict, perhaps having lived in the same era as Omul, and wielding the spear of the deity.
“Tsk.”
Together with the sound of clicking the tongue came an irritated glance. Aslan, watching from the side, flinched involuntarily at the coldness in his eyes.
Omul chuckled lowly, seemingly excited.
Only Aslan watched the scene beside them with curiosity.
Unless the spirit manifested by possessing another body, it should appear just as it did in life.
Yet Omul firmly believed that Lumel was that knight.
Without a trace of doubt, he thought Lumel was indeed the knight.
Aslan found this point curious.
Especially when recalling what Omul had said earlier.
A knight with black hair wielding a spear, a knight of Law and Order, and a hero.
Since Aslan wasn’t very knowledgeable about Geladridion’s ancient history, he couldn’t be certain, but the reactions Omul was showing now gave Aslan confidence.
Omul was reacting as if Lumel were exactly the image of that hero.
The problem lay with Aslan.
Aslan hadn’t decided on an attitude yet.
To begin with, he didn’t know which attitude would be advantageous.
In that brief moment while Aslan pondered, Omul moved.
“That arrogant gaze, I like it.”
Suddenly mentioning Lumel’s gaze, Lumel furrowed his brows demonstratively.
With an extremely unpleasant demeanor, Omul added a low chuckle.
“After I became a god, I regretted it.”
Still incomprehensible words. Since Lumel remained silent, Omul leaned slightly forward and continued.
“You should have been defiled while you were still a virgin.”
An unpleasant metallic sound. It was a laugh that sounded both amused and sorrowful.
“At least if you were going to kill me, you should have defiled me first.”
As laughter faded, Aslan and Lumel guessed.
The relationship between the knight and this villain-turned-god wasn’t normal.
At least not in one direction.
Before Lumel could process this revelation and decide on his next action, something stirred within Omul’s robe.
The hidden left arm beneath the shoulder and robe.
Beyond the wriggling movement, a moist sound was heard.
As if struggling to pull the arm out from the robe, Omul chuckled moistly through the sounds.
“Looks like you’re here because your heart was somewhat moved. Did you really want to be defiled by me? Hmm?”
There was a yearning in that subtle tone. The yearning turned into a gesture, and the gesture approached Lumel.
The obvious response Lumel needed to take was clear, so he intended to thrust his spear forward.
However, Aslan acted first.
The grabbed arm. Omul slowly turned his head toward the one holding his arm.
A man clad entirely in black. Until moments ago, he had been quietly standing beside Lumel, a man with emerald green eyes and black hair.
Now, from his face to his left arm, a soft violet glow covered him in black.
This was possible due to the far superior transformation ability of Abyssal Sword compared to the survival technique.
Unconstrained by size and density, Aslan intentionally obscured his face and left arm with Abyss to exert pressure.
In that state, with the Abyss-covered arm of the Dragon King, Aslan seized Omul’s wrist.
“You bastard…”
Though trying to free his wrist, it wouldn’t budge, causing Omul to frown.
It wasn’t about strength.
The force felt incredibly light.
Yet he couldn’t shake it off.
The wrist wouldn’t move.
Every time he tried, Aslan skillfully countered, blocking his attempts.
Precisely in the opposite direction of the force applied, precisely enough to stop the reverse action by adding more strength.
This was a technique surpassing common sense, transcending human limits.
Realizing this, Omul quietly built up murderous intent.
Seeing this, Aslan decided on his stance.
Aslan didn’t need to pretend to be legendary.
He didn’t need to verbally prove anything.
Aslan already possessed countless legendary feats that none of them could kneel before.
There was no need to act.
He simply slowly built up murderous intent while gripping the beast of Tiyalmisof behind him.
The gripped sword handle. The metallic rope composing the sword handle wrapped around his hand.
“…”
Whispered softly, inaudible to anyone.
The words created the fiery resolve of a single human and the arrangement of the ancient gods.
Aslan thought.
Perhaps they knew little or nothing about purity and the veteran warrior Aslan.
After observing for a long time and finding no familiar faces, Aslan was confident of this.
Then how would purity appear to them?
The answer was simple.
“What…!”
At the sight of the pure white sword revealed from behind, the specters were startled and shocked.
No matter how great heroes, deities, villains, or monsters these specters were.
They were ultimately beings who hadn’t surpassed the ancient gods.
Beings who couldn’t destroy or change the world beyond their status as main deities.
How would the purity arranged by the highest of the ancient gods appear to them?
It was obvious without needing much thought.
The hope arranged by the ancient gods, the divine sword destined to save the world.
The divine power infused in it was extraordinary, so to the specters, the sword clutched in Aslan’s hand seemed like an absurd object.
Under the influence of that deep and powerful divine power, they retreated as if their necks were being strangled.
Omul was no exception.
Rarely, he looked at Aslan with surprise and caution.
“Are you… Void and Chaos…!”
Exclaiming in shock, he tightly grasped his short spear.
Aslan didn’t reply, instead gripping the purity as if to swing it.
At the same time, he subtly nodded to Lumel, visible only to her.
What others saw was a lethargic nod or an irritable gesture.
But Lumel understood the intention behind the motion.
Thus, as Aslan pretended to strike, and Omul aimed his short spear to counter, Lumel reacted.
“There’s no need to go that far.”
Standing between Omul and Aslan, Aslan paused, and Omul, while wary of Aslan, stepped back.
Retracting the purity he was about to swing, making it disappear, Aslan sheathed his weapon.
The specters were surprised by the sudden disappearance of his power.
Being able to withdraw so quickly, leaving no trace, bewildered them.
Even with a power nearly reaching the level of a main deity, his presence diminished to that of a human in an instant.
Perhaps it was something beyond even the level of a main deity.
As Aslan returned the Abyssal Sword to his waist, Omul turned his head, revealing disdain and irritation, and glanced at Lumel.
The woman met his gaze proudly. She spoke under his gaze.
“I’m not here to indulge in your vulgar tricks again. If you don’t state your purpose, I’ll leave.”
Hearing this, Aslan hesitated, and Omul, while keeping his guard up against Aslan, stepped back.
“Things have changed, haven’t they?”
A short remark followed by a brief silence.
“Did you think I wouldn’t change after doing such things? Arrogant fool.”
Uttering genuine contempt, Omul retreated without suspicion or rebuttal. Only a quiet gaze lingered within the helmet.
Thus retreating, Omul. As the distance grew, Lumel subtly extended her hand and grabbed Aslan’s arm.
Her trembling touch. Feeling it, Aslan swallowed.
Omul’s capabilities were considerable to that extent.
Aslan understood Lumel’s sentiments to that degree.
And while understanding, Aslan played the role of a powerful yet taciturn, arrogant deity.
Thinking that if Lumel’s intervention had come just a bit later, who knows what trouble might have arisen.
‘That was definitely mana and divine power.’
The concealed arm inside that robe. The mana emanating from it.
It felt like countless worms wriggling densely.
The divine power mixed within it.
Aslan recognized the divine power. There was no way he couldn’t.
‘Of all things.’
Hardly suppressing a sigh, Aslan inwardly groaned.
Omul was a priest.
A priest serving the Veil of Compassion.
For the strongest evil deity to become a god and serve a priest—Aslan felt disheartened.
The only relief was that Omul wasn’t a high-ranking priest.
As Aslan observed the massive giant akin to Tiamat heading towards the center of the banquet hall, he quietly slipped into a corner.
The pale and towering giant said,
“Thank you for accepting the invitation. Though, if you hadn’t come, I would’ve hunted you down and killed every last one of you.”
Though the spirits didn’t respond, Omul spoke as if it didn’t matter.
“But I respect your courage in coming here voluntarily. And thanks to that, I will reveal one mystery you’ve gained through this new opportunity.”
Mystery?
As Aslan silently watched with interest, Omul asked,
“Why are we revived?”
A content that demanded attention. Listening closely, the concise explanation followed.
“The reason is simple. The underworld has been destroyed.”
It was shocking.
Not just Aslan, but the other spirits also showed signs of astonishment, and Omul laughed as if enjoying their baffled expressions.
“I understand. You’re probably thinking this is absurd.”
As silence confirmed their thoughts among the spirits, Omul continued,
“But isn’t it more absurd to think that you, who passionately burned through life, created legends, achieved greatness, and challenged myths, would end up as mere ditch water flowing in the underworld?”
Holding up his pale arm filled with stitched scars, Omul declared,
“Now the underworld is broken. You are all free. Only those who sang of life amidst the waters of the underworld have survived!”
His voice rarely rose with such fervor, capturing the heroes’ attention.
“The one who destroyed the underworld proclaimed! Live on, love, burn with life, kill, and survive!”
Aslan frowned, and Omul stretched out his pale arm to point at the spirits.
“All the main deities of this world have fallen. We, who flourished under them, betrayed and forgotten, have been given life anew! The evil deities ruling this world have promised us power!”
The hand pointing upwards towards the ceiling. A ghastly ragged hand.
To the spirits watching that hand, Omul declared,
“Hearken! This is our era from now on!”
The tragedy begins now.
During this speech, the heroes listened intently, and the villains smirked cunningly.
Aslan remained expressionless, tightening his face sternly.
‘Valerie…!’
He realized Valerie was the one who destroyed the underworld.
The lines Omul proudly recited were famous ones from a well-known English fantasy novel.
And those lines couldn’t have come up by chance.
Furthermore, Aslan realized.
These lines were recited to convey a message to him.
To inform him of his involvement in the plot.
Believing they would somehow reach Aslan.
‘Are you challenging me to try?’
Biting his teeth hard, Aslan comprehended the purpose of this banquet.
This banquet was an auction to sell off heroes and villains, monsters and former deities who hadn’t yet served any deity, to the evil deities.
Realizing this immediately, Aslan made his decision.
The task ahead was clear.
Interfere with it, kill as many spirits serving deities as possible,
and finally, eliminate Omul deeply involved in this conspiracy.
Preparations for that.
As Aslan lightly clenched and released his fist while exchanging glances with Omul, who seemed to be staring at him.
