Okay, the situation has improved."
Taylor was intrigued by the short, coarse fur of the black giant dog.
The steel-clad knight reached out and stroked the giant dog's back, receiving a completely different response than he had expected.
"I thought that even if you weren't very familiar with the sources of the 'Diviners' potions, you wouldn't be unfamiliar with them."
Reluctantly letting go of his hand, Taylor shook his head in response to Klein's question.
"In the scriptures, the 'Hound of Fuggen' is regarded by us as a messenger of another Lord."
"They lurk in remote historical fog, never revealing their true forms to outsiders. Even their shadows have only been encountered by the outstanding descendants of a few ducal families and the angels themselves."
"As for the source of the potion…" Taylor paused, "Actually, there aren't many 'ancient scholars' in this world. Even after the empire was established, most of the Zarathustras or Antigonus who later rose to prominence inherited the potions from their families."
"They are all special properties and finished potions."
Although the "Mysterious God" has never publicly acknowledged the status of the "Hound of Fortune," just as the church and scriptures are not entirely equivalent to the consciousness of the gods, those below always put an extra shackle on themselves in the ambiguous areas that the gods are unwilling to clarify, in order to show loyalty and reverence.
"Alright, Your Excellency, I think you no longer need to risk your life with me. Your servants... well, or perhaps assistants, I think they would be happy to help you clear away that level-one seal that is acting as an obstacle."
Taylor roughly counted the spirit creatures summoned by Klein.
Even without counting the "Death Consul's" personal guard, there are fourteen incomplete "Hounds of Fugen".
Of course, he didn't expect all of the "Fountain Dogs" to participate in this war in the jungle; that was neither realistic nor rational.
Compared to the actual battlefield, the spirit world of Rosed, which has just experienced some inexplicable chaos, needs stability more.
If left unchecked, any changes that occur within the spirit realm, or any unruly spirit creatures that go out of control, will be a disaster that the archipelago branch alone cannot handle.
Moreover… Taylor frowned slightly, genuinely concerned.
"Sir, how much longer can your body hold out?"
He could see that the vessel that held the characteristics of the "Trickster," the "victim," was damaged, and that Klein Moretti was being corrupted by divinity.
There's also the "Scepter of Calamity." Although Taylor Franz doesn't know exactly what terrible negative effects this level-zero sealed artifact has, judging from the deep blue cracks on Klein's face that even the Emperor's Spirit Armor couldn't conceal, none of the guesses seem optimistic.
This could be fatal.
"Body?" Klein subconsciously looked at the hand holding the scepter.
To be honest, even though only a few minutes had passed, he had already gotten used to the pain brought to him by the "natural disaster" and almost forgot the fact that he was about to die.
It's pointless.
Death, or resurrection in another bizarre form, no longer matters to Klein.
The truth made him realize that going home had gone from a luxury to a pipe dream. What Russell, no, Huang Tao couldn't do, Zhou Mingrui could never do either, even if he was more powerful in the past.
"Don't worry about me, Colonel. I'm fairly confident in my physical condition."
When Klein said this, it wasn't very convincing.
Back when he was at the Backlund branch, he had disobeyed Count Mistral's medical orders, which angered the vampire count, who had condescended to play the role of a temporary doctor, and he received a lot of cold treatment from him.
However, Taylor Franz was unaware of this rather private matter, and for now, he could only choose to trust Klein.
"Within a controllable range, I will not arbitrarily wield the power of 'natural disasters,' and I will also pray to 'mystery,' so you can rest assured."
"Alright, if you insist."
Taylor let out a sigh of relief, but his furrowed brows showed that he was not as relaxed as his answer had been.
What exactly happened underwater?
He clearly felt that after traveling around the seabed, Klein Moretti had shed the preconceived prejudices instilled in him by the Church of the Night and the Northern Continent, and was filled with admiration and respect for the Creator.
On the contrary, they have become estranged from the "God of Mystery".
He is actually the "God of Mystery," and the title of the Creator's Messenger is just a smokescreen.
Taylor knew exactly which answers he could access, so he didn't dwell on a minor, disrespectful address to another master and continued the conversation as if nothing was wrong.
"Then you can hold this line for me."
"I suggest you go to 'Admiral of Disease' Tracy Pelle and 'Admiral of the Stars' Cattleya and I recommend that you identify yourself."
"These two are quite capable and can effectively relieve your stress."
As he spoke, Taylor raised his head slightly, nimbly twirling his spear and deflecting a stray bullet that seemed to have come from nowhere with a flourish.
"After all, no one wants a hero to fall before victory, missing out on the peace and prosperity that follow."
These are very straightforward words, spoken from the heart by the "Iron Knight".
Faced with this rare opportunity for heart-to-heart talk, Klein simply shook his head.
He murmured to himself, as if seeking answers from nothingness and the distant realm.
"hero..."
...
We will be the heroes of the sect.
We will call upon God, upon the will of a higher God, and become heroes of the highland peoples.
Señor was not good at giving pre-battle speeches; he was not even suited to be the leader of an order-based force.
But he was definitely a good leader for religious fanatics.
The "Blood General," who led from the front, was the first to jump into the pool of blood that filled the underground drainage pipes of the Bayam border.
His body dissolved completely the moment it came into contact with the crimson blood, leaving only his soul wandering above the pool of blood.
Immediately following their infiltration of the Rothschild Islands and now that the ritual preparations are complete, the remaining twenty believers have also made their choice, in accordance with Señor's decision.
These highland natives, who were pirates, believers, and rebels, tied innocent people they had secretly kidnapped from Bayam to their sides with ropes, and dragged them, carrying several times their own weight, as they struggled to approach the pool of blood.
Cursing, crying, screaming, sobbing, begging for mercy—faced with an unknown fear that even death could not bring peace, everyone from the master and young lady of Rune to the lowly servants and waiters unleashed their most negative emotions.
They resisted in different ways, but all their efforts were in vain.
The Rothschild natives, who were born into a life of lowliness, did not show much resistance.
These people were also innocent victims who were captured, but unlike others, when they learned of the "Blood General's" plan, they calmly accepted their fate of becoming sacrifices.
To them, there was little difference between becoming a sacrifice to another unfamiliar god and becoming an unexplainable ghost under the command of the "Sea God" resistance.
The moment the war began, all the natives who failed to escape back to the jungle and left Bayam were abandoned by their own people.
From the perspective of extremists, a few days is enough time for the second-class citizens in the city who share the same blood as them to make a choice; since they did not leave, it is presumed to be a betrayal.
Therefore, faced with an indistinguishable outcome, the kidnapped natives preferred that their deaths be more meaningful.
At least the evil god from the highlands will kill the Runes above.
After a series of heavy thuds as objects fell into the water, the blood pool began to boil.
The sewers were now empty, devoid of any living creatures; the abundant offerings had fulfilled the needs of the ritual.
The ritual, which did not require a priest, began as scheduled. The decomposed biomass and the blood that had been stored in the sewers were transformed into something else by divine power.
The hard, brown trunk grew at an astonishing rate, and in the blink of an eye, it grew to a size that three people could not encircle with their arms.
It greedily absorbed the blood, and then differentiated into a large number of equally dry, brown branches, from which grew soft, blood-red buds.
This thorny tree, which had only recently been born, left its reflection in the spirit world.
Countless spirit creatures with a predominantly yin nature were attracted to its surroundings; some became its nourishment, while others underwent physical mutations, growing extra limbs or organs.
Outside, the dark blue barrier trembled for the first time, showing signs of collapsing.
An invisible hand, reaching out from the stars, personally parted the leaden, dark clouds, revealing a crimson moon to everyone's view.
The sun was banished, and the surface of the bewitching red moon lost its crater outlines, replaced by a vaguely shaped mummy.
This true "victim" was pierced by countless sharp thorns, bleeding profusely, and the tattered strips of cloth binding his body were half-undone, revealing his decay to the outside world.
He was sewn onto another, much larger, mountain-like creature, resembling a human skin painting made of flesh and blood. To the being that deprived Him of His freedom and will, He was more like a toy picked up casually from the roadside for amusement than a captive or slave.
However, the humans who saw His shadow below did not consider Him to be merely a toy.
"The Bound God" Thorzner.
He was once a follower of the "King of the Others," participated in countless wars that only existed in mythology, and was also the protector of the Highlands.
Although not everyone knows Him, and many have even forgotten His name, His appearance brought the entire battlefield to a standstill.
Then, in no time at all, all living beings, those with weak wills, those who had been wavering between self-interest and evil intentions, simultaneously let out a madman's roar.
They shed the veneer of civilization and transformed into monsters, some werewolves, others grotesque vengeful spirits.
The dead soldiers picked up their guns again, and even their incomplete corpses could not escape their fate.
Countless undead joined the battlefield, attacking both sides indiscriminately.
On the front lines where Rune and Trensost faced off, Klein and Taylor Franz, who had just finished their conversation, stared at the sky in shock.
They both saw panic in each other's eyes.
Taylor was the first to realize that the usually amiable colonel had suddenly transformed into an unyielding dictator, roaring simultaneously in both the mental link and reality.
"Everyone, retreat to the branch!"
"Sir, make sure no one leaves Blue Mountain Island. I don't know what this pollution is, but we can't gamble!"
After shouting the order, he gave instructions to those behind him before transforming into flames and rushing forward.
Klein quickly regained his senses.
He shifted his gaze from the sky, his eyes flashing with lightning, shattering the obstacles in his path and locking onto the colossal tree of flesh and blood that had appeared out of nowhere from the border of Bayam.
What's this?
An incarnation of the "Mother Tree of Desire"?
Klein suddenly realized that the evil creation before him was the very thing he had been unable to see through when he first took over "Calamity".
But why hasn't his spirit responded? Could it be that the "Mother Tree of Desire" is of a higher status than the "Mysterious One" who controls the gray mist?
That is at least comparable to the golden age of the Creator in the past.
"Isolate that tree, and clear out the zombies and aliens."
The Hounds of Fortune and the Undead Legion were also affected.
However, the former's high status was not so easily destroyed by the slight pollution that penetrated the dark blue barrier, while the latter was protected by the underworld and was even more steadfast in his loyalty to the Grim Reaper.
Both sides moved simultaneously, as if in a contest, rushing towards their respective targets.
The giant hounds, breathing fire and with burning eyes, disappeared into the mists of history, approaching the Tree of Flesh and Blood from both the real world and the spirit world in three times their original numbers.
The leader of the "Hounds of Fortune" personally led the team, leaving only two incomplete Sequence 3 Guardians with Klein.
The undead legion, however, did not have such comprehensive considerations.
Having already died once, they were like rigid AIs that completely obeyed orders. The half-human, half-snake demigod, along with all its subordinates, charged into the horde of undead, constantly reaping the contaminated corpses.
Perhaps there was also an element of anger?
Klein felt that the undead had gone to great lengths in dealing with the undead horde, and many of the skeletons had used abilities he had never seen before.
"Fate must be playing a joke on me..."
Beneath the crown, Klein, who had lost the ability to express himself, sighed.
He held the "victim" tightly, and the black threads floating in the air suddenly found their direction.
Under the two manipulated threads, the unfortunate little animal's body rapidly expanded, transforming in the blink of an eye into a thinner version of Gehrman Sparrow.
Their sudden appearance before Therese and Cattleya elicited a similar reaction from the startled pirate general.
"German Sparrow?"
"...It's you?"
Unlike the cautious Cattleya, Therese abandoned the hastily condensed frost spear the moment she saw the newcomer's face.
Wearing a fitted shirt and beige trousers, with an overcoat draped over his shoulders, the "Disease Lieutenant General" hesitated before giving Klein a slight bow.
"You are one of the Creator's divine messengers, aren't you?"
They used their own methods and did not lose their minds under the red moonlight.
Using the puppet's vision, Klein quickly scanned the area around the two pirate generals and found many of his own men lying dead in the trenches. The wounds on the corpses clearly showed the style of the pirate generals.
Clearly, even with Colonel Taylor's swift reaction, some of his own troops still fell victim to the virus.
"I come representing the will of the Creator, I am His Mr. V."
Klein introduced himself in an unequivocal tone.
The contamination of the "victim" gave his eyes a divine glow, and his pupils, no longer deep brown, were filled with a man-eating darkness.
"You are now my subordinates."
"I need you to act as temporary overseers, and also to supervise each other to ensure that no one tries to leave Blue Mountain Island now."
"If there is..."
Klein hesitated for a moment, then closed his eyes and said.
"Execute him on the spot."