The wind in Warusa never sang; it only moaned.
Zald strode through the stone streets of the military capital, feeling the sharp contrast between the cool breeze enveloping his new god and the oppressive air choking this place. To his left and right stood rows of sturdy military barracks, inhabited by official infantry forces and heavy cavalry forever thirsting for war. The air here smelled of forged iron, blacksmith forge smoke, and thickened aggression.
Zald's heavy footsteps echoed, causing a platoon of fully armored Warusa soldiers on patrol to instantly step aside with pale faces. The pressure of a Level 7 was too absolute to ignore.
On street corners, Zald could see rusted iron cages filled with slaves. Filthy Elves, trembling Pallums, and roughly chained Dwarves. They were the bait prepared by Erebus. In the past, Zald might have just closed his eyes and considered their suffering a necessary sacrifice to birth new heroes. But now, after his mind had been cleared by the God of Wind, the sight felt like a disgusting act of foolishness.
Not much longer, Zald thought, his gaze remaining straight and cold ahead. Hold on just a little longer.
His destination was the main command castle in the center of the capital, the massive structural pride of Warusa's military monarchy now also functioning as the alliance's headquarters. As Zald climbed the stone steps toward the entrance, his instincts caught the boisterous noise and sickening aura coming from the main meeting room.
Zald let out a rough sigh. He was too lazy to deal with, let alone come face-to-face with, those loser gods. To him, conversing with entities that lived only to chew on the remnants of past grudges was an insult to his pride as a former Zeus Familia executive.
Ignoring the main hall, Zald turned his steps toward the right wing of the fortress, heading straight for the private room where the designer of the dark stage resided.
Zald pushed open the carved wooden door without knocking.
Inside, Erebus stood facing a long table covered in parchment maps. The God of Darkness looked elegant despite being in the middle of a rigid and oppressive military kingdom; his signature charismatic smile immediately bloomed as he realized who had arrived.
"Ah, Zald. You've returned much faster than I expected," greeted Erebus, his voice flowing calmly and full of intrigue like an orchestra conductor. "Tell me, Zald. Have the children of Orario started panicking and scrambling to chase the bait we scattered?"
Zald stepped inside, keeping his expression hard and flat, ensuring not a single crack could be read by the manipulative god before him.
"Depends on how you define despair, Erebus," Zald answered with his heavy voice. "I bring news. The provocation bait you scattered worked far more effectively than you could have ever imagined."
Erebus's eyes widened slightly, his interest instantly ignited. "Oh? Don't tell me..."
"Yes," Zald nodded firmly, looking straight into Erebus's eyes. "Finn Deimne, Riveria Ljos Alf, Gareth Landrock, and even Ottar... they have already arrived in the Kaios Desert. My informants confirmed their movements. Anger over their races being enslaved has made the Loki and Freya Familias move beyond the bounds of normal Guild bureaucracy."
Technically, Zald wasn't lying at all. The informant he referred to was Venti, the God of Wind who devised this entire bluffing scenario. Because Zald voiced the information he fully believed to be part of their plan, Erebus's ability to detect lies didn't react at all. The God of Darkness's eyes remained calm, swallowing the statement whole as absolute truth.
A momentary silence enveloped the room before a crisp laugh finally escaped Erebus's lips. The laugh sounded so unburdened and full of satisfaction, echoing off the rigid stone walls of the fortress.
"Outstanding! Truly outstanding!" Erebus spread his arms as if welcoming an invisible audience. His eyes flashed with theatrical euphoria. "Our heroes cannot wait to step onto the stage! Ah, this is a very perfect script. They charge into the darkness to save their flock, exactly as I expected from Orario's succeeding generation!"
Zald let Erebus enjoy his fantasies for a few moments, before throwing the next pawn of manipulation.
"Do not celebrate too early," Zald interrupted, making Erebus's laugh subside into a thin smile. "There are other variables moving as well. When I was returning here, I heard a very loud rumor. The news has even spread to the outskirts of Warusa's streets today."
Zald held back the awe in his heart. He truly didn't expect Venti's information to spread so quickly, nor for the rumor tactic from the Shalzard Kingdom to move that fast. The fact that the rumor had already been heard by military officers in the outer barracks proved just how terrifying the God of Wind's maneuver was.
"What rumor could make Zald sound so serious?" asked Erebus, leaning forward and resting his hands on the map table.
"Shalzard is challenging for war," Zald stated straightforwardly. "They have mobilized their military and declared that they will determine who the absolute ruler is in this desert region. And the battlefield they have designated... is the Gazoob Desert."
Erebus's eyebrows knitted tightly. His charismatic expression was replaced by a look of genuine confusion. This scenario was completely outside his calculations.
"Shalzard?" Erebus repeated, his tone filled with disbelief. "That oasis country known for being extremely conservative and passive? Why would they suddenly take up arms and openly challenge Warusa? All this time they've just hidden behind the walls of their wealth, too cowardly to spill blood."
"Perhaps they feel threatened and panicked by your alliance gathering in Warusa recently, so they chose to make a military bluff before it's too late," Zald offered a floating, logical reason, letting Erebus's imagination fill in the blanks. "But what is certain is that their troops are moving toward Gazoob. The exact same location as the Purgatory you designed."
Erebus fell silent. He looked at the map on his table, staring at the point of the Gazoob Desert which had now suddenly become the center of gravity for three major forces: his Alliance, the adventurers of Orario, and the Shalzard military.
"Isn't this a far more interesting scenario, Erebus?" Zald remarked, slowly steering the God of Darkness's thoughts toward Venti's trap.
Erebus raised his gaze. "What do you mean, Zald?"
"Shalzard, Warusa, and those kids from Orario... all gathered at one point in Gazoob," Zald explained, crossing his massive, muscular arms. "You designed Purgatory to test the limits of their sanity, right? Then let the Gazoob Desert become the true crucible of purification. Let the illusion curse of that Resheph member and the entire army of vengeful gods welcome Finn and Ottar's arrival there, while Shalzard becomes a witness or even an obstacle for them."
Zald stepped forward, letting his posture press down on the atmosphere of the room. "And while they slaughter each other on the cliffs of Gazoob, you just need to send one simple message to whoever from Orario's new generation manages to survive that hell: If you want to free your race, come to Warusa."
Zald pulled his greatsword slightly from its scabbard, creating a sharp and deadly metallic scraping sound.
"I will remain here, in Warusa," Zald stated, his voice heavy and absolute. "I will be their final trial. If they can survive Gazoob and reach this place, they must get past me to take the keys to those slave cages. Let's see if they truly deserve to pass, or die crushed by my hands."
Erebus's eyes widened slightly, before a very terrifying wide smile once again adorned his face. Zald's plan sounded highly poetic and melodramatic to the ears of the god who admired such a plan.
"The Executioner waiting at the end of the road of despair..." Erebus murmured, truly swept away by Zald's crafted script. "They traverse a hell of illusions, slaughter enemies, drag their heavily wounded bodies, only to find that the final wall they must destroy is the strongest pillar of the Zeus Familia. Indeed... that is the most absolute Purgatory trial!"
Erebus clapped his hands enthusiastically, as if having just discovered a lost masterpiece of art.
"You are right, Zald. If you are guarding here, in the heart of Warusa, it won't be a problem for us to mobilize our entire main force to Gazoob," Erebus began excitedly rearranging the formations on his map. "I will only leave behind a few lowly soldiers for patrols here. The rest, the entire alliance, I will bring to Gazoob to welcome the arrival of those Orario children."
Zald refrained from a cynical snort. The God of Darkness who had all this time felt like the director of this world, was now dancing very nimbly on the palm of Venti's hand. Erebus completely failed to realize that his Purgatory plan had veered far off course, hijacked very elegantly by a pawn he trusted.
"When are you going to tell your loser allies?" Zald asked flatly.
"Right now," Erebus answered, gathering his parchments. "The followers of Set, Sobek, and Osiris have long been complaining out of impatience to destroy something. Those gods only desire the pleasure and satisfaction of shallow revenge through the rampages of their Familias. And Resheph... that mad god only cares about chaos. Telling them that the Orario faction is already waiting in Gazoob will make them mobilize all their troops to run there like starving dogs."
Erebus walked past Zald, patting the giant's shoulder with full appreciation.
"I am very much looking forward to it, Zald. I look forward to seeing whether this generation is worthy of inheriting Orario, or if they will fall as dust in this desert. Guard this place well," Erebus said, before stepping out of the room to summon the other gods.
Zald stood in silence after the door closed. He turned his face, looking toward a small window that displayed the view outside the Warusa headquarters. Out there, the wind began to blow a little stronger, kicking up sand dust into the air.
Your theatrical stage is about to crumble to dust, Erebus, Zald thought, a rare smile of amusement finally etching itself onto his face.
It didn't take long for a wave of movement to erupt in the Warusa headquarters. From inside his room, Zald could hear the echoing voices of orders being shouted back and forth, accompanied by the satisfied chuckles of the loser gods who were impatient to see their stage of revenge begin. Outside the castle, the aggressive cheers of official military battalions and the march of hastily prepared cavalry lines echoed, churning the atmosphere of the monarchical state.
Exactly as Venti predicted, the bait was swallowed whole. Resheph, mad for chaos, along with Set, Sobek, and Osiris, driven by past grudges, cared nothing for logic or cautious tactics. They didn't ponder the oddities of Shalzard's movement. In the minds of those gods, there was only one certainty: their main enemies were gathered in Gazoob, and it was time to mobilize all their Familia forces to commit mass slaughter there.
Zald walked out of the stone fortress a few hours later. The Kaios sun was beginning to shift downward, casting a bloody orange light on the western horizon.
From the top of the castle steps, he witnessed a sea of troops—tens of thousands of steel-armored infantry, heavy cavalry, and followers of the vengeful gods—marching out, leaving the gates of Warusa. Their combat formation moved solidly, driven by military aggression and the euphoria of power expansion. At the frontlines, the horse carriages carrying the five gods of the alliance led the parade of destruction toward the northeast, heading straight for the rocky cliffs of the Gazoob Desert.
Warusa, which had been packed with tens of thousands of war-hungry soldiers, had now suddenly become a quiet ghost town. Only a handful of low-class soldiers remained, assigned to perfunctory patrols around the slave cage area. They were not a threat at all, merely insignificant pebbles.
Zald descended the stone steps with a slow and measured pace.
He looked at the iron cages and saw the fearful eyes of the Elf, Pallum, and Dwarf races staring at him. The bait left by Erebus was now entirely under his control. There was no need for any bloodshed dragging the arrival of the Loki Familia or Freya Familia to this cursed place. And soon, there would no longer be any slavery in Warusa.
Zald's large, calloused hand crept to the hilt of the sword at his waist. The deadly grin of the Gluttony reappeared, but this time not to prey on the world, but to straighten the order.
"The Purgatory scenario has been closed," Zald murmured to the blowing wind. "Now... let's open these cages."
One thing was certain today: The alliance of gods was marching toward the Gazoob Desert. However, what awaited them behind those rocky cliffs was not the prey from the new generation of Orario that they expected. What awaited them there was a unilateral judgment from the true storm.
------------------------------
"Like my work? Catch up to Chapter 93 over on my Patreon!"
P - Gem_Blanks
Thank you so much for your support — you make all of this worthwhile.)