Chapter 15: Wings of False Salvation

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"Accept this generous offer from me—Orvak—and the one true ruler, if you value your lives," Orvak said, extending both hands to them.

"I act in his name. Join us."

Dahn had crouched down again, trembling at the sight of the demigod.

"And why would we do that?" Cale replied, slowly reaching for his pistol.

"Tsk tsk... I'm a man of words, not violence. So don't even think about it." He pointed at Cale's hand creeping toward the weapon.

"And to answer your question—isn't your survival reason enough?"

Cale realized his position. There was nothing to gain here—only death or enslavement to a rising power.

He let go of the gun, drew his knife, and pressed it against his throat. But he hesitated, trembling—afraid of dying.

"Gahaha! It's not so easy to take your own life, is it?"

Cale wanted to slit his own throat—yet something inside him, like a voice, held him back.

Eventually, the knife slipped from his fingers.

Orvak stepped closer, delighted, and comforted Cale, who was still staring blankly at the ground.

"So you've made your choice... Good boy. Now, help us bring more into the fold, will you?"

As if he were no longer himself, Cale walked over to Dahn, drew his pistol, and pressed it to his head.

"If you want to live, then follow the one true ruler... He will lead us to salvation."

His voice was low and cold, his gaze piercing.

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Dahn stared up at Cale's unnerving expression, crawling backward.

"Didn't you hear me? Submit to the one true ruler, and you can live."

Dahn hesitated. But in the end, he took Cale's hand—and followed him, in search of more recruits.

With a twisted grin, Orvak remained where he was, watching the two disappear into the distance.

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"Hey! You red mushroom freaks! Don't tell me you're with that son of a b!tch Orvak?"

He waved the severed head in his hand.

"What's wrong? My looks got you speechless or what?"

The three of them stood frozen.

None of them had expected to run now into a demigod—let alone an upper one. They all knew they didn't stand a single chance in a fight.

"W-we're not with Orvak..." B-Day stammered.

"Huh?! Can't hear you when you mumble like a coward!"

"We're not with the lower demigod Orvak," Ashfall repeated clearly.

"Then how do you explain your weird appearance? You look just like his people."

Ashfall thought quickly. One wrong word—one wrong movement—could mean instant death.

"We disguised ourselves as them," Lira blurted out.

"Ahh, that does make sense—who do you think you're fooling?"

His mood snapped. He tossed the severed head aside and clenched his fists.

"Wait!" Ashfall shouted, pointing back at the forest they had come from.

"We killed five of them—we're not your enemies."

The demigod of Greed looked at him with deep suspicion.

He stepped toward Ashfall—despite his shorter height, the aura he radiated was suffocating.

His messy, dark hair was soaked with blood, like his unnaturally muscular torso.

His eyes burned with a greedy, golden glow—the same eerie hue that lit the trees and the sea beasts.

"If I go check that out—will I be able to confirm your claim?"

He stared Ashfall down, searching for any sign of deceit.

But he found nothing.

"Running is pointless—so don't even try it."

With a flash, he vanished into the woods—but it took him some time to reappear as if the red-fogged woods would also cloud his senses.

"I'll believe you. Just this once.

But..." He raised the head and hurled it toward the distant mountain range.

"Bring that back—and you get to live."

The three of them were boiling inside. He was playing with them—as if they were toys he could twist and tear apart at will.

"Oh, and just to make things more interesting... let's give the third one a little handicap."

He suddenly appeared in front of B-Day and grabbed his leg.

All eyes were on the demigod of Greed, who grinned wildly as he crushed B-Day's right leg with his bare hand.

B-Day screamed in agony and collapsed.

"WHY THE HELL—"

"When the cake talks, the crumbs stay quiet," he interrupted, cutting off Lira's furious outburst.

"So. Bring me the head.

I'll be generous and give you a whole three days.

If you go past that deadline, I'll find you—and kill you on the spot."

Ashfall had always known many demigods were utterly deranged.

But the way this one toyed with them... it felt eerily familiar.

Like the presence of a long-forgotten power—an Unknown, the one responsible for the destruction of his homeland.

"The countdown starts at sunrise," the demigod said, lying back on the stone and humming to himself.

"What do we do now, Sir?" Lira asked, tending to the severely injured B-Day.

"He's given us an impossible task.

All three of us are injured, barely standing—and we're supposed to cover that insane distance in three days?

That damn demigod..." she muttered, her voice thick with hatred as she glared over at him.

"We'll kill the bastard," Ashfall said suddenly.

Lira stared at him in disbelief—as if she'd misheard.

"Kill him?! With all due respect, Sir—that's suicide."

"We'll kill him. That filth belongs in the ground."

Ashfall seemed like a different person—something about the demigod had unearthed a memory.

A memory so buried in rage that it nearly broke him.