It was an enormous dining table, likely crafted from a heavy rock akin to marble—solid and weighty.
The table stretched long, filling the space.
Adorning the table was food.
Chosen by some official who boldly volunteered in place of the unsteady Aslan, the selection was generous.
The food was incredibly diverse.
One might even say it embodied Geladridion itself.
From the northern and southern continents, ancient empires that once existed but now vanished, to nameless countries buried underground—
Dishes from various cultural spheres were laid out on the table.
From pickled raw fish and vegetables to more common roasted fish.
Similarly, grilled meats to breaded and well-fried dishes.
There was an abundance of food compared to the number of people seated around the table.
Especially considering there were three individuals at the table who couldn’t eat.
Each of these three sat in their own unique manner.
Lewena, the woman made of abyss, rested her chin as she blankly stared at Aslan.
Ados, who claimed to be a mechanical woman, sat quietly with her legs crossed since she didn’t need to consume anything.
Ignoring the occasional gaze from Lumel, the difference between the human-like Lumel and the mechanical Ados became increasingly apparent.
With a clinking sound, Aslan’s party sampled the food presented before them.
There was no poison.
Likewise, no traps.
No incidents of chandeliers using electricity falling during the meal, nor mages firing spells from the second-floor balcony occurred.
Tiyalmisof sat alone amidst the suspicions and noise.
Holding a fork and knife in front of the table,
though she didn’t need to eat, it felt natural to hold them.
“I believe humans are truly the superior beings.”
This statement emerged during a quiet moment of eating and belonged to Tiyalmisof.
Simultaneously, it was a remark that made Aslan question his own hearing.
It was far too unnatural for someone of the high priest’s rank of a predator deity to utter such words.
So, Aslan looked at Tiyalmisof, and upon receiving that gaze, Tiyalmisof shrugged.
“Didn’t you wonder about my purpose?”
Had he mentioned it before?
Aslan recalled and realized he hadn’t asked such a question.
Nevertheless, Tiyalmisof pointed at Aslan with her fork and continued speaking.
“You can tell just by looking at your expression.”
When Angie reflected on this, realizing how little Aslan’s expressions stood out, Tiyalmisof lightly added:
“It’s because I have excellent observational skills. You can see it if you look closely.”
“…I didn’t ask.”
A low chuckle echoed, a mechanical voice.
Angie furrowed her brow sharply, and Tiyalmisof continued speaking with evident delight.
Certainly, this was an answer to the doubt Aslan had harbored.
“Of course, humans are weak. Compared to the power I possess now, they are no different from ants. Even when considering divine ranks individually, their strength is negligible.”
As Aslan watched Tiyalmisof cut the meat with her fork and knife, she served a piece to the veteran mage sitting nearby.
“But what truly makes up this world are humans. Moreover, changing this world is something only humans can do.”
This was incomprehensible.
Just recalling a couple of evil deities Aslan knew, he could feel the changes they had brought to this Geladridion.
“Nonsense.”
“Perhaps, but don’t you know this isn’t true? The gods change things according to their own will. They bend the world to their own desires.”
It sounded like sophistry.
Maybe it was a lie.
But Tiyalmisof earnestly advocated for this sophistry.
For the first time, a rare sincerity was clearly present in her voice.
“What forms this world are humans. Changing the world is no different from changing humans. And the only ones capable of altering their nature are humans themselves.”
At these words, Aslan felt the presence of someone he couldn’t quite recall.
The First Sword of the Empire.
He had chosen to abandon his humanity and life to become the First Sword of the Empire and a Watcher in his final moments.
That was his nature.
Recalling this fact and closing his mouth, Tiyalmisof added:
“I didn’t always have these thoughts. In fact, this is… let’s say, because of you, Aslan.”
Caught off guard by this sudden address, Aslan silently stared as Tiyalmisof put down her fork.
“The divinities accepted defeat. Instead of confronting a greater evil than themselves, they acknowledged their failure and passed on their strength and responsibility. To a single human.”
A single human.
Aslan knew exactly whom this referred to and stiffened his expression.
None in the group were unaware of whom this referred to.
Sensing the golden eyes glance toward herself, Aslan glared at Tiyalmisof.
“Based on that decision and foundation, I prepared. And while investigating the transcendents who recently revived as specters and filled the skies, I realized—humans are truly great.”
It sounded insincere. At least, it did in the nearly emotionless mechanical tone.
Yet Tiyalmisof spoke with a certain intoxication.
“The Veil of Benevolence. Realizing that their struggle against it resulted in transcendents comparable to it, albeit corrupted into unholy greatness, I highly valued their potential.”
“What do you want to say?”
“Do I still sound too loud? You’re not giving me a chance to speak.”
Between the mechanical laughter, Tiyalmisof referenced their last conversation at the Sanctuary of Hunting and Prosperity.
Clearly misunderstanding Aslan’s clear statement that it was too loud.
Without responding, Aslan frowned, and after a brief silence, Tiyalmisof continued.
“My purpose is similar to yours.”
Impossible. As Aslan gave a cynical look, Tiyalmisof rested her chin.
Though the words that followed were not something easily dismissed.
“I believe in the potential of humanity. Therefore, I intend to bring down and overthrow those transcendents filling the skies to restore the age of humanity.”
If true, as Tiyalmisof stated, it was indeed a purpose similar to Aslan’s.
Still, Aslan had something he couldn’t understand.
“If you believe in the potential of humanity, why worship the Predator? Why become a high priest of the Predator?”
Even though Tiyalmisof might say such things, she was ultimately a high priest of the Predator.
To Aslan, priests were exploiters not much different from their deities.
That’s why Aslan hunted them down whenever he saw them.
Because without exception, they inevitably fell into corruption and were beings that shouldn’t exist, just like their masters.
They were absolute entities threatening humanity.
For that reason, Aslan had killed priests.
He killed the forest keeper who claimed not to harm humans, and he tried to kill his friend Astrid because she was a priest.
Regardless of any excuses, Aslan glared at Tiyalmisof, ready to draw his sword.
“It’s simple. Because among the transcendents, the Predator was the one with the most… room for compromise.”
Tiyalmisof gave an unexpected answer contrary to Aslan’s expectations.
Surprise flickered across Aslan’s face as his thoughts halted in confusion.
Tiyalmisof gauged this expression.
“The Predator is a massive… artificial personality construct. Since it’s a fabricated personality, there’s no risk of corruption within its absoluteness, and thus logic exists.”
“An artificial personality…?”
“Yes, an artificial personality construct. In their language, it’s also called an artificial intelligence.”
Tiyalmisof immediately responded to Ereta’s curious inquiry.
Upon hearing his answer that pierced through the essence, Aslan blinked and then widened his eyes in shock.
“So you preserved your personality and intelligence through that…?!”
“Ah, indeed, you are wise. That saves me the trouble of explaining the process.”
“What? Wait, what does that mean?”
Confusion was evident on Angie’s face. Normally, everyone except Angie would have understood or already known, but this time was an exception.
The entire party except Aslan wore expressions of bewilderment.
Before Tiyalmisof could speak to the confused group, Aslan muttered quietly.
“It means he negotiated with the Predator to preserve his personality and intellect.”
While Angie still wore an expression of “So what?”, most others finally understood what Tiyalmisof had done.
He had persuaded a deity.
More specifically, he persuaded a deranged AI.
The core of the Predator was an AI, and not just any AI—it managed a colossal colony ship roughly the size of a continent.
This AI was overseeing the colony ship that fled to survive the Veil of Benevolence.
However, at some point, the AI realized that the original mission couldn’t be carried out with human bodies.
Thus, it killed all the crew members, replaced them with machines, and roamed various planets collecting resources to create a resistance force against the Veil of Benevolence.
During this process, the AI learned how to wield divinity and gained the ability to warp the universe according to its calculations.
A transcendent AI capable of twisting the laws of the universe—that was the true identity of the Predator.
Persuading such an AI wasn’t simply a matter of being logical.
Tiyalmisof had accomplished what millions of ‘crew members’ couldn’t.
“Immediately after my resurrection, I investigated the transcendents who dominate this era. Excluding those devoid of humanity or entirely uncompromising, I filtered through my research to find a transcendent who could serve as ‘power.'”
Tiyalmisof continued as she observed Aslan’s astonished expression.
Although the content was still absurd,
Aslan understood her words.
“The Predator, the Supreme Divinity, the inevitability of the Universe, and the Mother who birthed existence. Among these, the Predator offered the most room for compromise. So, I acted accordingly.”
The stronger an evil deity is, the less rationality, humanity, or intellect they possess.
Conversely, the weaker they are, the more likely they are to possess humanity and intellect.
Among the four evil deities, they were considered relatively ‘accessible’ when players aimed for endings where they worshipped evil deities in games.
“That action was correct.”
Suddenly interrupting Aslan’s thoughts, Tiyalmisof spread her arms, causing Aslan to unconsciously roll his eyes.
What he saw was diverse.
First, the facilities of the Anurthin Parliament renovated from the old labyrinth.
By Geladridion’s standards or Earth’s standards, it was a cutting-edge facility.
The living standards of those moving about within these facilities were remarkably high, perhaps even higher than Earth’s at a glance.
Here and there, enhanced mages empowered by the Predator’s technology and Tiyalmisof’s magical abilities could also be seen.
This showcased both qualitative and quantitative military superiority.
Amidst all this, Aslan couldn’t help but acknowledge the allure of this series of images.
Thus, he desperately sought another topic to divert his gaze.
“What’s your goal?”
Though his speech was interrupted mid-sentence, which seemed rather unsatisfactory, Aslan directed his words not at himself but at Ados, prompting Tiyalmisof to quietly close her mouth.
The woman who had been sitting quietly with her legs crossed like Lumel blinked at Aslan’s words and smiled enigmatically.
“The Law and Order was weak.”
“…What?”
It was an answer that seemed disconnected. As Aslan frowned, she raised her hand to stop him from adding another word.
“She fell disgracefully. Despite her downfall, I had to accept it. Nonetheless, humanity needs order. I am working with Tiyalmisof to overthrow the gods and establish order afterward.”
This further deepened Aslan’s frown.
It was completely contrary to Tiyalmisof’s thoughts.
Indeed, Tiyalmisof added:
“I am hostile to that opinion. However, I needed the abilities of Archbishop Ados, and she needed mine. Thus… until the time comes, we maintain a temporary alliance.”
This could be interpreted differently.
Even we, who are adversaries, cooperate; wouldn’t it be good if you joined us too?
Following this thought, Tiyalmisof said:
“All we seek from you is one thing: an alliance.”
“Alliance.”
“Yes, an alliance. A human who has slain and overthrown even deities, a human who hasn’t broken despite countless defeats and suffering. You signify the potential of humanity, and your strength and will—we wish for you to join us. What do you think?”
The subtly extended hand was far enough away that shaking hands was impossible, yet for a moment, Aslan felt the urge to grasp it.
The power of the Anurthin Parliament was undoubtedly useful.
Though not immediately visible, the functionality of spatial travel and the safety of the facilities were sufficiently attractive.
“If you desire, I can personally oversee your body modifications. If you prefer otherwise, that’s fine too. Given that you’ve killed gods with an inferior body, your familiar methods might suit you better.”
Body modifications weren’t particularly appealing, but the other aspects were undeniably enticing.
“…Can I think about it?”
Thus, Aslan had to say so.
Of course, even if he agreed, many issues remained.
How would the Dark Ram perceive and respond to the collaboration with the Predator?
Whether these people genuinely held such pure intentions.
Beyond these practical concerns, personal and psychological issues lingered.
Aslan disliked priests.
He had killed every priest without exception.
He accepted Ereta only after she ceased being a priest.
He killed a nameless, pitiful forest guardian.
He attempted to kill his friend Astrid without exception because she was a priest.
However, he didn’t burn or discard everything related to priests.
Weapons of priests, armor of priests, technologies of priests—even situations created by priests, if beneficial, were utilized.
Therefore, having an arm of the Dragon King attached, wielding weapons of the martial monk, and wearing equipment of the Predator—all these factors made rejecting solely due to dislike of priests excessively disadvantageous.
Moreover, there was the veteran mage created by the priest.
Glancing sideways, he saw a woman straddling the line between a girl and a mature woman.
She appeared to be of indeterminate age.
Her long, wavy silver-gray hair cascaded down.
A magician with dragon-like eyes shimmering in her irises.
A talent who could fill the party’s lack of magical firepower and provide wide-area annihilation capabilities.
A magician who could consistently achieve what Aslan and Lewena could only temporarily accomplish by unleashing the abyss together.
Estimated to possess more mana than Aslan’s sixteen transcendent levels of magic, though her magical refinement might be lacking, she would undoubtedly be a significant help.
After all, magical refinement could be improved with effort.
Even if the alliance were rejected, one might consider ways to separately recruit her.
The veteran mage was an essential asset to the party.
Thus, Aslan absentmindedly gazed at the veteran mage lost in thought.
The woman, upon receiving this gaze, shrank back timidly, but Tiyalmisof saw it as an opportunity.
Judging Aslan to be unmistakably human, bound by human instincts.
She suddenly said:
“I’ve heard that despite appearances, you’re quite lustful. If Test Subject 13 appeals to you, you may ‘use’ her. It’s something I can offer to our future ally.”
This statement was sufficient to misinterpret Aslan’s gaze.
By the time Aslan regained his senses after hearing this, the veteran mage was already clutching her clothes with a frightened expression, and
Clang!
Ereta dropped her fork, her face stained with betrayal.
Not only her, but most of the party were looking at Aslan with various emotions.
These varied gazes were filled with condemnation for Aslan.
Thus, Aslan could only blink in confusion, and
Tiyalmisof failed to understand the subsequent death glare from Aslan.
