In the forest north of Stormhill, a group of humanoid, insect-like creatures were looking up at the sky.
"No wonder the Goddess has set her sights on that man. He can actually fight the Starscourge General on equal footing."
Gowry and the Kindreds of Rot under his command were all stunned, their eyes wide with disbelief.
They knew very well that Radahn had completely Healed from the Scarlet Rot. The power he was showing now was absolutely worthy of the title of strongest Demigod.
"Gowry, you couldn't see it clearly either? It seems you still need more training. That wasn't an even match. Radahn is being completely suppressed."
Angelo stood nearby, gazing up at the fierce battlefield of the Lords in the sky, his expression exceptionally grave.
Looking at the disbelieving faces around him, Angelo could not help letting out a deep sigh.
They were far too weak. That was why they had no choice but to rely on schemes and tricks to achieve their goals.
The storm of battle was so violent that it made him feel, with painful clarity, just how small and powerless he was.
Angelo thought that if he were placed on a battlefield like that, he probably would not last even half a quarter of an hour.
He stood there in silence, watching and watching, sighing again and again in his heart.
"That is exactly why we can never be the Goddess's Lord, and why the Goddess abandoned us. Weakness is our sin."
Angelo muttered under his breath, his voice low and indistinct, as if only he could hear it.
His gaze drifted, sometimes settling on the distant battlefield, sometimes returning to Gowry beside him.
At last, as though he had made up his mind, he turned to Gowry and said,
"This war may not give us the result we wanted most. But if we cannot obtain that man, then Radahn's power... we must have it."
There was a trace of helplessness in his voice, but far more calm resolve.
The outcome they wanted most, of course, was for Nolan and Radahn to leave each other badly wounded.
Those caught in the situation were blind, while bystanders saw clearly. The soldiers and knights on the battlefield had failed to grasp the situation, but Angelo could see it.
Judging by how the battle was going, the best result they had hoped for was most likely impossible.
Still, they had not expected much to begin with, so there was little reason to be disappointed.
Besides, they had a backup plan, and they had paid no real price. No matter how one looked at it, they would not lose out.
Yet just as Angelo was about to explain his plan further, his brow suddenly furrowed, as if he had sensed something wrong.
He snapped his hand out, and a white thread-like object shot from his palm, flying straight behind him.
The white thread streaked through the air at high speed, seeming to collide violently with empty space, and sparks actually burst from the impact.
Not far behind Angelo, a group of people emerged silently from the shadows like ghosts.
They wore black Sorcerer robes with wide sleeves that fluttered in the wind, like wraiths of the night.
Beneath those black robes was a layer of black soft armor. Its lines were smooth and fitted closely to their bodies, hindering none of their movement and instead making them seem even more mysterious.
Dressed this way, it was hard to associate them with traditional Sorcerers. They looked far more like a group of well-trained assassins.
At the very front of this mysterious group stood a white-haired old man.
His face was covered in the marks of age, wrinkles crisscrossing it like ravines, but his eyes were like cold stars, carrying a sharp, icy chill. He held a short dagger and a staff, and he was the one who had just exchanged blows with Angelo.
"Vanish into thin air?" Gowry looked at the old man before him in surprise, though his tone remained unusually calm, without the slightest panic.
"So it is the Sage of Grilan. I did not expect to see you here, and all our colleagues as well."
The Sage of Grilan's face darkened. He stared fixedly at Gowry, open anger showing on his aged face.
"So the traitor really is you, Gowry."
His voice was hoarse, as if he were suppressing immense rage.
"Coveting the Lord's power. Is that your goal?"
Gowry nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smile.
"Yes. That is our goal."
His tone was relaxed and matter-of-fact.
The Sage of Grilan's brows drew tightly together. Gowry's attitude surprised him greatly.
Gowry's answer was far too calm, as if he were the one holding the initiative.
"Why betray the General and side with these vile, filthy insects?" the Sage of Grilan asked, his voice thick with confusion.
Gowry laughed, and there seemed to be a deeper meaning hidden in that laugh.
"Betrayal? How can helping my own kin be called betrayal?"
"Do you still not know?"
He paused, then continued,
"I was never the same as the rest of you."
He laughed loudly and freely, as though some shackle had finally come loose. He raised a hand and wiped it across his face, peeling away something like human skin and revealing an insect-like face beneath.
His body grew slightly larger. His human skin rapidly tore apart, finally exposing the body hidden beneath that shell for years. It was a body exactly like those of the Kindreds of Rot around him.
"I thought you had been bewitched. I did not expect you had fallen long ago. But now you must atone for your crimes, Gowry!" Grilan's expression made it clear he was not joking.
He was very old and had seen many creatures. In the distant past, there had indeed been an insectoid Race active in the Lands Between. They were called the Collectors.
Grilan had no prejudice against this Race itself. The problem was that most of its members worshipped the Goddess Of Rot.
That was something the other races could not accept. Their very existence was a threat to everyone else.
To living beings, the Scarlet Rot was an incurable plague, a deadly poison that devoured flesh.
"Atone? What crime have I committed? Listen. My people are cheering for me. They call me a champion. A champion. What a wonderful word."
Gowry spread his arms wide, and the swarm answered this great champion with a chorus of hisses. Grilan could not understand the language of insects, but he could hear the fervor in their voices.
In the eyes of the insects, he was a champion. There was no doubt about it.
"By the way... aren't you curious?" Gowry asked.
Grilan did not answer. He simply watched Gowry in silence, while Gowry slowly shook his head, as though somewhat helpless in the face of that silence.
"My people and I are surrounded. So why am I not trying to escape? Why am I standing here chatting with you instead? Don't you think this is a little too relaxed?" Gowry asked again.
Grilan's pupils suddenly contracted. He turned back and saw two Mushroom Men approaching from behind with seven or eight giant Bugmen and over a hundred Kindreds of Rot.
"This is a trap?" Grilan froze.
"My apologies, Lord Grilan. A powerful figure like you may interfere with what we are about to do, so we can only ask you to remain here forever."
Gowry bowed slightly and spoke apologetically. His voice was so respectful that he sounded as if he were still the other man's loyal subordinate, but the coldness beneath it could not be hidden.
Before he could finish speaking, however, he suddenly froze and looked up at the distant sky.
***
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
[email protected]/PinkSnake (50 Chapters Ahead).
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.
***