Duke Komalon’s Office.
“…Failure, you say? And Marquis Palatio took the Dragon Spirit’s egg?”
“Yes.”
At the dark elf’s calm nod, Duke Komalon let out a dry chuckle.
“Marquis Palatio… What on earth was he doing where the Dragon Spirit’s egg was kept?”
“I couldn’t determine the exact reason, but it seems he ca at soone’s request.”
“A request? By whom?”
The duke’s question was t with silence from the dark elf. Realizing the lack of information, Duke Komalon sighed in frustration.
“Marquis Palatio… of all people…”
After pondering for a mont, he set down the fountain pen he had been holding and spoke again.
“What about the other preparations?”
“Everything else is proceeding step by step, excluding the Dragon Spirit’s egg. It shouldn’t take long. The test subjects are progressing as expected.”
Hearing this, the duke exhaled deeply.
“Ensure everything is prepared properly.”
“Yes.”
“And as for Marquis Palatio…”
The duke fell silent once more.
“…Shall we retrieve the Dragon Spirit’s egg?”
The dark elf cautiously posed the question, but the duke shook his head.
“No. Now that the awakening has failed, the Dragon Spirit’s egg is no longer necessary for the plan.”
“…What should we do, then?”
“Hmm, send the test subjects.”
“The test subjects, you an?”
“Yes. They’re no longer needed anyway, so dispose of them. If we can assess the marquis’s capabilities in the process, all the better.”
“Understood.”
“Send them with a convincing ssage.”
As the dark elf bowed and disappeared, Duke Komalon watched silently, his expression perplexed.
“How in the world did he manage to take the Dragon Spirit’s egg…?”
Unable to comprehend, his face reflected his confusion.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm the ripples of unease stirring within him.
At this pivotal mont, as the greater cause drew closer, he needed to remain composed.
For that reason alone.
“All for the greater cause.”
He silently recited the phrase he had repeated to himself thousands of tis.
***
‘Was it a misunderstanding?’
Reinhardt was aware.
He understood that he might have been mistaken.
No, he was acutely aware that it was overwhelmingly likely to be either a misunderstanding or sheer coincidence.
Because logically, it made no sense.
The back of Marquis Palatio, who resided in the Kingdom of Asteria, couldn’t possibly resemble the massive statue he had seen within the Domain of the Hundred Ghosts.
‘Surely, that must be it.’
Even as he acknowledged that it was illogical and likely a coincidence, he couldn’t stop himself from superimposing the figure before him onto the image etched into his mory.
The flowing black coat, and the two eyes—one black, one blue.
It was all too identical.
The vivid mory of that mont was only heightened by the sheer terror of impending death he had faced at the ti, engraving the sight of the Hundred Ghosts and the statue behind them indelibly into his mind.
Lost in his daze, Reinhardt stared blankly at the figure before him until—
“Exterminate the intruder!”
The sudden cry from the Thunder Serpent Tribe jolted him back to his senses.
He raised his sword, infusing it with magic.
But then—
“…?”
He imdiately stopped his actions.
The Thunder Serpent warriors, who had seed ready to charge with weapons drawn, now stood frozen, trembling uncontrollably.
And at thaAt that mont, Reinhardt saw it.
The threads of Za’an spread throughout the forest.
Though invisible to ordinary eyes, those with magical perception could see the threads spreading like spiderwebs across the entire area, entangling every mber of the tribe.
The only one resisting was—
“Damn it—!”
The man who had been pointing his sword at Marquis Palatio.
Unfortunately, even he was completely immobilized.
….
Unlike the others, whose limbs were simply bound by the threads, the man standing directly before Alon was practically mummified in Za’an threads, leaving only his face exposed.
To what extent?
The threads tightened with such precision that, in an instant, the man could have been reduced to nothing more than a lump of flesh.
And Deus’s expression, as he gazed at the man who dared to point a sword at the Marquis, was so cold it bordered on icy—an unmistakable chill that anyone could perceive.
‘It’s not Caliban’s sword, but Marquis Palatio’s own, it seems.’
Reinhardt, reflecting on the thought, watched as the fight ended almost too quickly, leaving him with a faint sense of deflation.
‘I couldn’t even fully grasp it… just how strong is that guy becoming?’
As Reinhardt wrestled with a pang of jealousy toward Deus, who had once again taken a step forward in strength during the ti Reinhardt wasn’t watching—
Alon’s eyes fell on a struggling mber of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, masked and twisting their body in resistance.
‘It was the right choice to bring Deus… though…’
Alon let out a small sigh as he noticed the particularly bright, vivid threads of Za’an shining in the air.
Of course, he could have subdued the tribal mber himself with the biting cold he montarily unleashed, making conversation possible. Still, Deus’s presence had undoubtedly made things much easier.
Even so, a flicker of unease surfaced in Alon’s mind.
The reason? These vibrant threads of Za’an, demonstrated for the first ti by Deus in Alon’s presence, bore a striking resemblance to the technique Deus had used during his awakening into sin—if only the color of the threads were different.
‘…No, that can’t be.’
Turning slightly, Alon cast a glance back at Deus.
“Shall I kill them, Marquis?”
Deus asked in his usual calm, detached tone.
“No.”
As Alon answered, he couldn’t decide whether to feel reassured or more uneasy.
‘This power could just as easily be the innate ability of a sword master, not sothing tied to his awakening into one of the Five Great Sins. Still…’
Shaking off the thought, Alon turned his attention to the subdued tribesman, his brow furrowed slightly.
“…Normally, they wouldn’t gather like this so quickly after an outsider’s intrusion. What’s going on here?”
Surveying the dozens of Thunder Serpent Tribe mbers surrounding him, Alon tilted his head in mild confusion before shrugging.
‘Looks like we’ll need to have a conversation.’
Watching the tribal mber growl in a voice more beastly than human, Alon sighed.
“I’ll co to the shallow place below the sky. Welco the dawn with joy, as I will greet it with you.”
At Alon’s sudden proclamation, Evan, Deus, and Reinhardt exchanged puzzled looks.
However—
“!.”
The slightly poetic, lengthy phrase seed to strike a nerve. The once-growling tribesman froze, their eyes behind the mask reflecting astonishnt.
Noticing this change, Alon pressed further.
“How about it? Isn’t this enough to grant an audience with your chieftain?”
Alon himself had no idea what his words ant.
But he had uttered them with such confidence because he vividly rembered encountering the Thunder Serpent Tribe in the ga. There had been a quest involving the tribe, and an NPC had used the exact phrase to gain entry without conflict.
Confident yet cautious, Alon watched the tribesman.
“How… how do you know those words…?”
The tribesman murmured in disbelief but ultimately relented.
“…Follow .”
Satisfied, Alon allowed a faint smile to surface.
***
Entering the Thunder Serpent Tribe’s village, the first thing Alon felt upon entering the village was its sheer mystique.
Though he had seen its illustrations countless tis, experiencing it firsthand was entirely different. The Thunder Serpent Tribe’s village had been built atop crumbled ruins.
Alon scanned his surroundings.
Hos, resembling those of elves, were constructed inside trees, while others were built from restored ruins. mbers of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, erging from these structures, stared at Alon’s group with wary, distrustful eyes.
As the group proceeded through the village under the tribe’s scrutinizing gazes, they arrived at the center, where a massive temple stood.
Alon marveled at the temple’s grandeur, which felt more like a harmonious part of nature than a separate structure.
A tribesman with four horns gestured toward the temple and said, “Follow .”
Entering the temple, the group soon arrived at a large tent inside. Within, they found an elderly man clad in white fur, much like the other tribesn.
‘He’s different from the chieftain I rember from the ga,’ Alon thought as he observed the elder.
Despite the wrinkles around his eyes, the elder’s gaze was sharp and intelligent as he looked at Alon.
“…I’ve heard you wished to see ,” the elder said. “Is that true?”
At the elder’s words addressing him as a “distinguished guest,” Alon montarily looked puzzled. Then, it dawned on him—it must have been because of the phrase he had uttered earlier.
‘That’s right. That NPC was also treated as a distinguished guest.’
Recalling the young girl NPC who had joined him in the jungle only to part ways as soon as the mission ended, Alon nodded slightly to himself.
“Yes, that’s correct,” he said.
“First, allow to introduce myself. I am the one who leads the Thunder Serpent Tribe, known as the ‘Wise Ashgul,’” the elder said.
“I am Marquis Palatio,” Alon responded.
As the elder politely bowed his head, Alon mirrored the gesture and introduced himself in turn.
“Show your respect as well,” Ashgul commanded.
At his words, the tribesman who had been wearing the four-horned mask earlier removed it.
‘…A woman?’
Alon was secretly surprised. He had assud the tribesman was a man, but it turned out to be a young woman with a youthful appearance. And not just anyone—
‘… Swift Syrkal?’
“I am Swift Syrkal,” she introduced herself.
Realization struck Alon. She was destined to beco the future chieftain of the Thunder Serpent Tribe. With this newfound understanding, he looked at her with a fresh perspective.
“And so,” Ashgul continued, “may I ask what has brought you to seek out?”
At the elder’s question, Alon began to deliberate on how to explain his intentions.
He remained silent for a mont, lost in thought, but soon, with a small nod, he seed to resolve himself.
“The reason I have co to the Thunder Serpent Tribe,” he began, looking directly at the Wise Ashgul,
“is to subjugate the god you revere—‘Basiliora the Receiver.’”
At this shocking revelation, everyone’s mouths fell open in stunned disbelief.
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