“I suppose I need to think about it.”
Frida, speaking brusquely, crossed her legs. Aslan stared at her from close range before letting out a hearty laugh as if his energy had drained.
As he lowered the hand he had extended, the beast sniffed at the retracted hand. Frida looked at both the beast and Aslan with one eye before letting out a faint chuckle.
“You probably know this already, but I don’t particularly like you. In fact, I’d say I dislike you.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Why don’t you ask why I dislike you?”
Aslan stepped back silently, and the beast, which resembled a mix between a bear and a wolf, bared its teeth while sniffing at Aslan’s hand.
Its tail, lying low, swung broadly, creating a sound akin to sweeping a broom against the stone floor.
“Because I’ve already heard it four times.”
“That’s right, that’s what I dislike about you. You’re so barren of surprises.”
When she said she disliked him, the expected reaction wasn’t this. Rather, if he responded playfully, or expressed hurt feelings, or made an effort to mend their relationship, she wouldn’t have given it much thought.
Especially since they were here to discuss forming an alliance. She had expected a different reaction, but seeing Aslan remain detached as if there was nothing he could do about it, she felt deflated.
Since the day Aslan first descended into Geladridion twelve years ago, he had pushed Frida away, even though they could have been like family.
He believed that if she didn’t like him, that should be enough, subtly drawing a line between them.
In the midst of all this, whenever she caught glimpses of his deranged expressions—his insane demeanor suggesting he wanted to control the world—Frida always thought the same thing:
This person is not fit to be a ruler.
She also thought:
We’re not family.
Even though Aslan was a disciple of Budonggong and Frida’s adopted brother, this was why he was treated as an outsider.
But because of personal dislikes and unresolved regrets, they couldn’t afford to ruin their diplomacy.
Frida was the queen and the Great Chief. The leader of a tribe numbering hundreds of thousands.
Regaining her nonchalant expression quickly, Frida propped her chin and spoke.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. The reason I said I’ll think about it is because there’s no immediate benefit to us. Moreover, your talk of crisis hasn’t really hit home yet. We can’t bundle up in fear of winter winds when spring has just begun, can we?”
It was a reasonable statement. But because she left it unfinished, Aslan nodded.
“Rather, if I could monopolize you or bring you into our tribe as a warrior chief, I’d consider your alliance and demands without hesitation… But in reality, we gain nothing. Only losses.”
Cold, calculated judgment. Aslan feigned disappointment at her response.
‘The main quest is proceeding as planned.’
That was fine. If things followed the main quest, many things would turn upside down in the next main quest.
“Well…”
“So, I’m saying I’ll give it some thought.”
As Frida spoke, the beast laid its jaw on her foot and rested.
“You may be an unpleasant guy, maybe even crazy, but you’re not someone who spouts nonsense. I know that well.”
Aslan gave a wry smile, and Frida snorted dismissively as she continued.
“In fact, there are more priests these days, and we’ve noticed more monsters appearing at the border, along with dwarves wandering around. I’ll take your proposal seriously. I’ll consult with the elders.”
With that, Frida gestured with her chin, signaling the end of the conversation. At that moment, the grand hall doors opened, and the damp underground breeze was chilly.
Aslan slightly bowed as the wind brushed past him, his cloak fluttering forward.
“I hope you make a wise choice. And…”
Thinking he might leave without further ado, Frida raised an eyebrow when Aslan straightened up and added,
“May I visit the Archer?”
“The Archer? Why him?”
“We know each other.”
The phrase ‘we know each other’ was unremarkable.
After all, Aslan, the Veteran of Battle, had countless allies and enemies. So it wasn’t strange that he had a connection with the Archer.
“Then there’s nothing else to be done. Permission granted. However…”
Frida raised her hand, and the beast stood, circling her feet. Its growling was familiar; it was undoubtedly used to intimidate visitors occasionally.
The tattoos etched across Frida’s body flickered, and her muscles bulged. This power spread to the beast by her feet, inflating its muscles significantly.
Clearly threatening.
Both sides knew this threat wouldn’t actually bite. It was a mere formality to save face for her subordinates.
“If you cause any trouble, whether it’s an alliance or anything else, I’ll exile you.”
“…Understood. Even execution wouldn’t bother me.”
Aslan smirked. Frida sighed and waved her hand—a dismissal.
Frida understood what Aslan was up to but chose to let it slide.
Watching the group leave, she slouched back onto her throne.
“Such a slippery character.”
With that, the grand hall doors closed.
*
“Do you mean a visit?”
The knight clad in blue iron armor asked, and Aslan nodded. He was heading toward the underground prison.
“Yes, I’d like to visit Tiamat Clo. The Great Chief has permitted it.”
“In that case… very well.”
The green knight led Aslan despite suspecting something fishy. The light from the torches stretched long as they walked.
The one leading at the front was a knight in blue armor, and only one other followed behind.
Despite being just one, the knight was subtly tense.
Just hearing that the visitor knew Tiamat Clo was burdensome enough, but considering the follower was the Veteran of Battle, it was understandable.
The knight tried not to be swayed by rumors about the Veteran.
No matter how skilled the Veteran might be, one person couldn’t stand against an army.
Alone, one couldn’t cut down hundreds.
Though they could fight powerful monsters or priests, surviving against an entire army was unrealistic.
That’s what the Veteran was.
Yet the knight was still tense.
Some parts of the rumors about the Veteran were true.
Like killing hundreds of priests, standing against a hundred foes to defend a fortress, or slaying various infamous monsters.
All those rumors were facts.
While thinking when Aslan might suddenly attack, the knight silently guided him towards the prison.
Meanwhile, Aslan remained silent as he walked through the dim torchlight.
“Ah, so you’ve come.”
There in the cell was Tiamat Clo.
Massive build, thick arms and shoulders, and scaly skin that gleamed. The dragon-person who had worn a blindfold during transport now revealed golden eyes.
Sniffing through her nose, Tiamat called out from inside the cell.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me again.”
Smiling slightly, she didn’t seem too worried, but Aslan nodded indifferently.
“I almost did.”
“Hah, forgetting someone like me? That’s a joke.”
Tiamat laughed loudly, and Aslan briefly grinned.
Of course, it was a joke.
Aslan genuinely intended to recruit Tiamat Clo.
Her exceptional archery skills and power, combined with a personality clearly not suited to priesthood, made her an excellent candidate.
A peerless ally.
It was surprising how such a figure hadn’t become famous yet.
‘Must be because she handles business perfectly.’
Sniping with siege weapon-like force from ultra-long distances.
There was no way to counter unless one was a priest.
Thus, Tiamat’s reputation was naturally scarce. Understanding this, Aslan glanced at the blue-iron knight standing guard.
The knight was on alert, hand on the hilt of his sword.
Aslan observed this stance and rolled his eyes, bringing up the system window.
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[! Repel the Priests Attacking Varmanz Mountain Kingdom]
[Remaining Time: 32 minutes]
With barely half an hour left, Aslan had allowed the group sufficient rest, issued simple instructions, and used Equalization to restore sight before descending alone for a reason.
Tiamat Clo needed to accomplish something.
To absolve the damage to the Sacred Mountain and impress upon Frida the necessity of the alliance.
Ignoring the presence of the nearby blue-iron knight, Aslan interrupted Tiamat mid-sentence.
“By the way, how did you manage to fix your eyes? Was it some talented restoration mage…?”
“Tiamat, do you remember what I said?”
What he meant. Tiamat realized he was referring to escape and evasively replied.
“Uh… Erm? Oh, that thing?”
“Yeah, the part where I asked if you wanted to leave here.”
“Damn…”
Even though she tried to evade, Aslan deliberately brought it up, causing Tiamat to wipe her mouth and sigh.
The blue-iron knight, hearing Aslan’s words, flinched and approached.
Before the approaching knight could close the distance, Aslan’s hand flashed.
The flash seemed to draw a crescent before straightening, and the light shot from his waist to lodge precisely in the gap of the knight’s helmet, stopping there.
Although the blade hadn’t drawn a single drop of blood, moving further would result in massive bleeding.
Accurately lodged in the helmet gap, the blade tip froze the green knight who emitted a choking sound.
“Don’t move. I don’t want to kill you.”
“A-Aslan sir…!”
“Hey, is this okay?”
Watching from beyond the prison bars, Tiamat was honestly astonished.
Even with his keen senses, he hadn’t detected the moment Aslan drew his sword.
It was truly the pinnacle of skill.
The moment Aslan gripped the hilt and slightly twisted his waist, the sword emerged silently without a sound.
Impaling the helmet gap without killing was impressive, but the most remarkable aspect was the aura.
Aslan exuded a palpable intent to kill if the knight moved.
His teal eyes radiated deep killing intent.
“There’s no other way. Desecrating the Sacred Mountain is a grave issue. Even Queen Frida couldn’t release you lightly. The elders would oppose it, and the tribe members would protest.”
That was true. There was no way Tiamat could be released.
“To absolve yourself, you need to achieve something significant. Something so great that even being labeled a desecrator of the Sacred Mountain won’t matter. Perhaps… saving this city would suffice.”
“Hold on, hold on. Save the city? What nonsense are you talking about? Isn’t this Berthoff? One of the most developed places nearby…”
“Priests are coming.”
Tiamat gasped and stopped speaking, and even the blue-iron knight let out a startled “Huh.”
“Capture that priest, prove that you’re useful, someone who shouldn’t be killed, and establish yourself as a benefactor of the tribe. Coincidentally, this will also demonstrate the necessity of my alliance proposal.”
“Alliance?”
Tiamat Clo now frowned and focused on Aslan.
“Yes, an alliance.”
Tiamat recalled the words spoken in the prison.
‘I’ll grant you freedom, Tiamat. All I ask in return is one thing: to become my comrade.’
While proposing an alliance with Varmanz, Aslan also sought to recruit Tiamat as a companion. Doubtful, Tiamat eyed him suspiciously.
“Who hired you? Who sent you?”
So he suspected all of Aslan’s proposals stemmed from some larger power’s arrangement.
Perhaps it was preparation for some kind of conquest.
He guessed that cooperation between himself, the Archer, and Varmanz was necessary for that purpose.
“No one hired me. My actions are entirely based on my own will.”
Aslan said this while twisting his wrist, and the blue-iron knight, who had reached for his weapon during the conversation, stiffened. The blade tip hovering before his eyes was unsettling.
Tiamat glanced at the subdued knight and asked,
“So, what’s your purpose then?”
Tiamat was a whimsical dragon-person.
Once a warrior chief, he renounced all titles and requested exile, choosing instead to wander freely.
However, he had his principles. At least according to his standards, he would never do anything he deemed dirty, even if it cost him his life.
If he didn’t want to do something, he wouldn’t, even if it meant death. That was Tiamat Clo’s creed.
He wanted to hear Aslan’s purpose.
If it was corrupt or inappropriate…
He would refuse, even at the cost of his life.
Looking at Tiamat Clo’s fleeting aura of hostility, Aslan tilted his head momentarily. His gaze, directed at the ground, seemed indifferent.
The silence stretched on, and both Tiamat Clo and the blue-iron knight remained quiet within Aslan’s silence.
Just as Tiamat was about to prod him to speak, Aslan opened his mouth.
“Tiamat Clo, what do you think of Belus Alphen?”
Taken aback by the unexpected question, Tiamat widened her eyes.
It wasn’t an answer to his own question. Expecting no response, Tiamat hesitated, but the lifted gaze of Aslan seemed to demand an answer he couldn’t ignore.
“It’s… a good city.”
“Why do you think it’s a good city?”
“Uh… Do I really have to say?”
Aslan quietly gazed at Tiamat, who eventually spoke.
“Look, when you go outside, you realize people die easily and starve. Just surviving every day is a struggle. Living in a city might be better, but even that isn’t easy. But Belus Alphen isn’t like that. Even tails can survive here. So… it’s a good city.”
By the time he finished speaking, Tiamat was smiling. Unconsciously, he reminisced about his hometown.
Aslan watched Tiamat Clo pensively before speaking.
“Tiamat Clo, what do you think would happen if this world itself became a place where survival is taken for granted, like Belus Alphen?”
“What?”
Confused by the question, Tiamat repeated it, and Aslan smiled.
“I’m going to kill all the gods. And I want to change the world.”
It was an abrupt statement.
An insane thought.
Too enormous a declaration to laugh off casually. Both the blue-iron knight and Tiamat froze at the enormity of it.
The giant dragon-person muttered involuntarily.
“Crazy bastard.”
“Hear that often.”
Aslan chuckled and shrugged, his casual posture conveying sincerity to Tiamat. The words were too honest to be false, too incomprehensible to grasp.
Mulling over Aslan’s words, Tiamat slowly curled the corners of his lips upward. For a dragon-person, he laughed heartily.
“Crazy, but… I like it.”
He was Clo.
A member of the warrior class in Belus Alphen.
Moreover, the highest rank among warriors—the Warrior Chief.
Though lower in status compared to Heart or Head, he was still nobility.
And he understood the responsibilities of nobility well.
Chuckling, Tiamat Clo faced Aslan and said,
“Priests should make for interesting targets. Alright, I’m in. But what about my impending execution?”
In response to Tiamat’s innocent question, Aslan sheathed his sword. The blade withdrawn from the helmet gap was spotless.
Returning the sword to his waist with a metallic clink, the blue-iron knight tried to say something.
Kuuuung!
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[! Repel the Priests Attacking Varmanz Mountain Kingdom]
[Remaining Time: 0 seconds]
Had the trembling prison thrown him off balance just then, it might have happened.
The staggering blue-iron knight was about to fall when Aslan grabbed his arm, stopping him, and simultaneously snatched the sword from his waist.
Before the knight could react, Aslan firmly grasped the stolen sword and infused it with mana.
The blue steel sword glowed with mana, and the resulting azure streak surged toward the prison bars.
Zeeeeng!
The metallic screech of metal tearing apart. The broken sword shard skittered across the floor, and the split prison bars fell with a heavy thud. Beyond the echoing crash was Tiamat Clo.
“Are you cutting this?”
Tiamat exclaimed in amazed awe as Aslan returned the now-useless sword to the blue-iron knight.
“Used it well. Good sword.”
Passing the stunned knight whose mouth hung open in confusion, Aslan took the lead. Gesturing with his chin as he walked ahead, he told Tiamat,
“Tiamat, follow me.”
Walking past the dumbfounded knight, Tiamat asked,
“What? Are we just walking out like this…?”
“At this moment, a priest is attacking the city.”
Had he not abruptly cut off his words…
Interrupted though they were, Tiamat couldn’t find the words to respond.
Kwajik!
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[! Repel the Priests Attacking Varmanz Mountain Kingdom]
[Remaining Time: 0 seconds]
Coinciding with the violent shaking of the prison, it was implied that had he not lost his balance, it might have gone differently.
The staggering blue-iron knight was about to fall when Aslan grabbed his arm, stopping him, and simultaneously snatched the sword from his waist.
Before the knight could react, Aslan firmly grasped the stolen sword and infused it with mana.
The blue steel sword glowed with mana, and the resulting azure streak surged toward the prison bars.
Zeeeeng!
The metallic screech of metal tearing apart. The broken sword shard skittered across the floor, and the split prison bars fell with a heavy thud. Beyond the echoing crash was Tiamat Clo.
“Are you cutting this?”
Tiamat exclaimed in amazed awe as Aslan returned the now-useless sword to the blue-iron knight.
“Used it well. Good sword.”
Passing the stunned knight whose mouth hung open in confusion, Aslan took the lead. Gesturing with his chin as he walked ahead, he told Tiamat,
“Tiamat, follow me.”
Walking past the dumbfounded knight, Tiamat asked,
“What? Are we just walking out like this…?”
“At this moment, a priest is attacking the city.”
Had he not abruptly cut off his words…
Interrupted though they were, Tiamat couldn’t find the words to respond.
Kwajik!
Aslan’s blade shattered the lock of the armory, and the broken metal clattered to the floor. Behind it lay Tiamat’s bow.
Aslan picked up Tiamat’s bow.
Its length alone was at least two meters, a colossal bow. Below it were large spikes resembling claws.
Aslan examined the bow closely before offering it to Tiamat.
Tiamat blinked at the sight of her own bow as Aslan asked,
“Do you have any experience?”
“What?”
Tiamat repeated, confused about what kind of experience Aslan was referring to. Aslan answered matter-of-factly,
“Hunting priests.”
At the utterly outrageous term, Tiamat missed her chance to respond.
