Awakening, that depends on your definition of awakening."
Inside the golden palace, the Son of God leaned against the ruins, his simple monocle reflecting the desolation of dusk. His fingers spread and contracted, making tentative movements toward the closed door behind the silver-armored giant.
"Your Highness, without Source Essence, even you, entering His Majesty's sleeping palace, will only lead to your death."
"die?"
The words, coming from the mouth of a giant butcher who was over four meters tall, sounded quite convincing, but Amon clearly didn't take the giant's warning seriously. He shook his head with a nonchalant smile, then frowned in contradiction.
He didn't care about these trivial matters.
"Mirgungen, I'm very curious."
Amon did not want to continue discussing His current attempt.
"I have read your mind. You remain loyal to Olmir, but you mostly compromise with my father. What were your true intentions when you joined Sasriel's faction?"
Upon hearing that his heart, which is so precious to everyone, had been stolen once without his knowledge, Mirgongen's tone became somber.
He was displeased, but He could not offend the Son of God, so He answered Amun's question in a very awkward tone.
"I remember my King because I am a giant, loyal to the King of Heaven, and loyal to the Lord because of honor and justice."
"Honor and justice?"
"Ha, interesting, interesting."
Amon made no attempt to hide his sarcasm, his right thumb resting on the underside of his monocle, his dark eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.
"Mirgongen, do you need me to remind you who is buried in that forest, and whose bones the human city-state that worships my father is built on?"
Amon abandoned the speaking style He had patiently cultivated, and instead adopted an aggressive tone that was not in Amon's nature and leaned towards Medici.
Why are you so concerned about the return of 'Mystery'?
"Is it because of Sassriel's orders, or because two thousand years of being sidelined have made you unable to resist your restless, war-craving heart, hoping to change sides again, just like when you inherited Bradel's legacy, waiting for Badhair's death like a vulture."
"Badhair…"
Clearly, the giant knight guarding the palace gates misunderstood the true object of Amon's sarcasm.
Time may take away many things, but some things are destined not to fade under the erosion of time. Past hatreds rise again, igniting the giant's single eye, which seems to encapsulate twilight and decay, and the dawn of revenge begins to emerge.
"I… do indeed look forward to Badhair's death."
Beneath the Mirgon mask, the ugly face became even more ferocious with rage, like a demonic beast crawling out of the abyss.
"At every moment, for every second, I do not wish to cut off His head with the sword in my hand and use His blood to offer a sacrifice to His Majesty."
"I have always fantasized about placing the comical and tragic scene of this clown's death before Prince Bradel's grave, to dispel the prince's resentment and wash away the prejudices that all the giants are forced to bear."
"Your Highness's current view of giants is a prejudice that does not belong to the giants, nor to the warriors who are willing to give their lives and souls for their beliefs and honor."
The angel named "Justice," the silver-armored giant, put down his longsword and slumped down on the long steps leading to the former bedchamber of the vice-ruler of the Heavenly Kingdom, gazing at the boundless afterglow of the setting sun.
"Your Highness, I understand your thoughts."
"In your eyes, I have never truly submitted to your father. I am merely an ungrateful wild dog that has temporarily bowed down and shrunk its fangs under pressure for personal gain."
Amon glanced at him, his expression complex, unusually devoid of mockery.
"Later, the Great Cataclysm... that rebellion perhaps solidified your view even further."
After a brief outburst, Milgongen turned back to God, recalling Amun's initial question and seeing the source of the Son of God's resentment.
"You have always believed that the 'Shadow Veil Ruler' who finally emerged from the Creator's corpse was not your father, but the Vice-King of Heaven."
"But have you ever considered that the Vice-King of Heaven is your father's rib, His incarnation, and a part of His will?"
Don't try to argue with me.
Amon shook his head slightly, seemingly extremely calm.
It must be said that the giant knight was right. For most mythical creatures, especially the true gods, they can use their authority to devise numerous contingency plans to deceive death, ensuring that they can still return safely after failure.
Some of these arrangements are flawless, while others come at a price.
For example, the resurrection of the Creator is the latter. He returned, but also lost most of his power and reason. He was neither human nor ghost, tormented by madness and malice, and had to fight against pollution every day.
Amon understood this principle, of course; he simply didn't want to admit it, unable to address a monster as "father"... Milgongen understood Amon's thoughts.
He found it laughable.
Your Highness, what is your dissatisfaction?
The Creator has merely changed His appearance; He is still alive. But our King has long since fallen in the decaying old age, died at the hands of His most trusted eldest son, had His crown taken from Him, and can no longer command us.
However, Mirgungen could not say these words aloud.
Whether Ammon was still listening to His thoughts, He did not know, but as a subject, He could not commit the sin of overstepping His bounds.
"Your Highness, you should set aside your prejudice against the true Creator."
Milgongan, for the first time ever, called upon God. If there were no one else present, and if He were not an angel of the Lord, this single charge would have been enough to send Him to trial.
"You know better than anyone what the true Creator has to bear after the Great Cataclysm."
"There are many things He could have refrained from doing."
"I only saw puppets manipulated by 'mystery'," Amon continued to argue, speaking coldly.
"Yeah?"
Mirgongen paused, raised his palm, and dawn pierced a corner of dusk, revealing the lights of distant human towns.
"Your Highness, too many gods have come and gone in this world."
"But I have never seen any god who would go to such lengths for mortals."
"In our time, kings viewed humans as slaves and living meat, and other races as prey."
"Under the light of the Creator, humans, giants, dragons, elves, vampires and so on, have lived in peace for a thousand years. Life is not divided by race, and we live together. This is something I could not have imagined before."
Faced with Amon's stubborn gaze, Mirgongen sighed.
"The true Creator is still protecting those races that have lost their gods and kings. If He is not the Lord, then He is a traitor just like the 'pure white' ones. I don't understand why He would do this."
"Perhaps this is also a deception."
Amon fought back with difficulty, his lips clearly upturned, but they looked completely droopy.
His face showed a discordant emotion, and he could barely maintain the carefully crafted mask that the "Angel of Time" wore when he appeared to people.
Also… Milgongen sensed something, but lacked the necessary clues; he didn't understand what Amon meant by "also."
Could it be another master...?
With that in mind, Mirgungan steered the conversation back on track.
"Your Highness, please answer my question: has the other master already awakened?"
"Perhaps He's watching our conversation with amusement?" Amon lowered his head, then quickly looked up again, resuming his nonchalant "Angel of Time" persona. "Who knows what He's thinking?"
"You know what? I've always thought that He was really wasted on being the 'Lord of Source Castle'."
"Compared to Him, Medici is utterly useless. He schemed for so long, but left nothing behind."
"If He were a 'hunter' or a 'schemer,' perhaps He could have ascended to godhood much earlier, and the tragedy of being beheaded would not have occurred."
Amon, no longer wanting to waste time chatting with the boring giant, jumped down the steps, his form gradually becoming transparent.
Your question will be answered shortly.
"Weren't you curious about where my real body went?"
A flash of light blue light appeared on the monocle, and Amon smiled.
"I have set a trap, right next to His pieces."
...
That's all for today.
The "Fool" made the final decision, and the crowd, who were still discussing and sharing, had to put aside their curiosity and thirst for knowledge and get up to say goodbye to the person at the head of the table.
Clusters of deep red erupted, and silence returned above the gray mist.
Klein gazed at the gray fog, but couldn't find the "shadow of the past" he hoped to see. He sighed and left.
Back in reality, in a house on Blue Mountain Island, where the rebels were stationed, the Bone Messenger had been waiting for a long time.
The outside world was unusually noisy, with roars and hysteria, but considering that the Rosed Isles had become a battlefield, Klein did not pay too much attention to this unusual commotion.
He looked at the messenger and nodded in acknowledgment.
The messenger bowed respectfully and presented the letter with both hands.
Mr. Azik has sent a letter… Klein took the envelope with delight, waved for the messenger to leave, and couldn't wait to see what his teacher had said.
As with his previous letters, Azik first expressed his concern for the students before getting down to business.
"...I have already gone to the Southern Continent. I'm sorry I can't help you fight the storm and the runes in Bayam."
"On the Black Tulip, I found some records related to my past, and I suspect that one of my blood relatives is still alive."
"I have to verify this; it concerns Bairon's future."
"The situation in Bayam has reached a fever pitch, Klein. Sometimes compromise is a choice we have to make. Compromise is not shameful. Kindness is indeed precious, but it is ultimately weak compared to evil."
"When necessary, I hope you can think more about yourself instead of always thinking about giving back."
"You're only in your twenties. Life is still a very long journey for you, with no end in sight."
"There are many beautiful sights along this road that you will discover and appreciate in the future, so promise me that you will always keep yourself safe."
"I don't want to see you make the same choice as Backlund did."
"You have talent and qualifications. Suicide is a cowardly choice. It is difficult and not easy to live and fight on. Perhaps I am being demanding of you and harshly placing responsibility on your shoulders, but I still hope that you can live well."
"Although I also have things I must do, if it really comes to a critical moment, I still hope to see your SOS message. There's no shame in that."
"In addition, you can use my bronze whistle to summon my legion with the token I gave you. I think that will help you."
"May we all get what we want, your teacher, Azik Eggers."
Mr. Azik still has a blood relative alive... Klein, upon seeing this, didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried for his teacher.
After all, Mr. Azik's blood relative is most likely an angel who inherited the bloodline of "Death," and it's hard to say that they would share the same thoughts or stand on the same side as Mr. Azik.
However, after reading the letter, Klein felt mostly joy.
It wasn't just because, judging from the letter, Mr. Azik's condition had improved, and he seemed more human than the ruthless "death magistrate" depicted on the "Black Tulip."
It was also because the teacher mentioned Backlund.
At that time, facing the three-way battle between the Lord of Storms, the Goddess of Night, the True Creator, and the Primordial Witch, and witnessing the power of the gods, he once wanted to commit suicide, abandoning his physical body and heading to the East District, where the smog was the most severe, in a spiritual state.
It was Mr. Azik who appeared at the critical moment, saved him, and held off the angel of the "Primal Witch".
Although he may not actually die, Mr. Azik was unaware of the "mysterious" trick; he truly dedicated all his strength to his student.
So now I'm seen as someone who's always ready to risk his life in Mr. Azik's eyes? That's pretty strange... Klein smiled helplessly.
Actually, I'm someone who values my life a lot, and I'm not that brave.
Well, Mr. Azik said I could use His bronze whistle to summon the undead army, which was a great help...
Klein had no intention of dragging Mr. Azik into Bayam's quagmire as well.
His teacher still had an unfinished mission; the battle in Bayam was his responsibility, not his teacher's.
However, now that his teacher has offered assistance, he is grateful and will not refuse.
With the undead legion, at least some of Rune's reinforcements can be held off, thus ensuring the situation is basically safe.
With this in mind, Klein immediately set off to enter the underground islands branch to share this good news with Tristan and discuss the final plan.
The young "Master of Puppets" had just taken his left step when Inspiration noticed the anomaly before he could.
Klein cautiously peered into the shadows of the room, where a twisted, viscous shadow was rising from the ground, its repulsive, gelatinous body rapidly expanding with a new outer shell.
It is obvious that this is a "demon".
But this "demon" did not show any malice. On the contrary, he quickly broke out of stealth mode, his blood-red compound eyes flowed with the light of reason, and his body soon twisted a second time, turning into a tall and thin man.
Tristan, whose consciousness was projected through the marionette, quickly looked around. The space was divided by his gaze, and painful screams were added to the noise outside the room. A large number of lives died instantly when the demigod descended.
Ignoring Klein's doubts, Tristan grabbed Klein's arm without saying a word, and the spirit world began to overlap with reality.
He looked at the bewildered messenger and spoke quickly.
"Something's wrong."