Chapter 7 – In Disguise

“I’ll check the south.”

Mark’s words echoed through the hall, making the commanders exchange glances.

Curiosity gnawed at Mark, especially after the recent visit. If he had already been restless before, now he felt an urgent need to leave.

Tower Defense: Age of Blood had never been an open-world game. Mark’s experience had always been confined within the walls of Ziggurat, watching hordes of enemies march inside.

If what the desert lizard had said was true, there was a human city to the south.

Real humans.

‘Luminaris…’ Mark sifted through his memories, but the name brought up nothing.

As expected.

In the game, the items dropped by mobs had varied descriptions, mentioning everything from where a sword had been forged to vague information about distant powers.

But Mark had been playing for four years; it was impossible to remember every obscure detail.

Besides, item lore was gone.

He had confirmed that when he picked up the Large-Scale Teleport Scroll to bring his commanders to the first ring walls.

The detailed text windows were gone, leaving only the raw utility of the item.

It was as if many of the game’s functions had vanished, leaving only the status and inventory screens behind.

Now there was a gap of a thousand years between the moment he had been sprawled on his couch at home and the instant he opened his eyes on that throne.

What had happened to the world in that time?

They were in the middle of an unknown desert Mark didn’t remember ever being mentioned in the game, so his knowledge of the current map was practically nonexistent. Staying locked inside Ziggurat in that situation was like watching paint dry.

Boring and inefficient.

He needed to see what lay beyond the gates with his own eyes.

And he would start with Luminaris.

“Humbly, this servant cannot agree with that, my Lord.”

Hermos’s voice cut through the silence.

‘Hm?’ Mark frowned immediately, almost on instinct.

“The Ziggurat is still recovering its functions,” Hermos continued, keeping his head lowered in respect, but his voice firm. “The outside is an unknown. It is far too dangerous for the Sovereign to depart alone into territory that may be hostile.”

Mark stayed silent for a moment, processing what he had just heard.

Internally, he was surprised.

So the servants’ obedience wasn’t completely blind. They had enough will of their own to question a decision if they felt his safety was at risk?

Mark didn’t know whether that was good or bad. But it was definitely more interesting than if they were just mindless cards obeying him without thought.

He shifted his gaze from Hermos to the other commanders still in the hall, watching him.

“And you?” Mark asked, his voice cold and heavy with authority. “Do you agree with Hermos?”

There was a tense pause.

Carmilla was the first to speak, stepping forward with elegance.

“While I wish for the Sovereign to enjoy all that this world has to offer, Hermos is correct about the logistics,” she said, her red eyes shining beneath the soft light of the hall.

“S-Sovereign…” Malphas whispered. “I… I fear that if you leave now, without knowing what lies outside… something may go wrong with the hall’s security.”

Karkinos slammed one of his pincers against the floor, a dry sound echoing.

“I disagree,” he said, his voice rough and unadorned. “The Sovereign wishes to go forth and conquer. We should support him.”

He leaned his massive body forward, antennae shifting as his compound eyes locked onto Mark. “I will accompany you, my Lord. My carapace will be your shield, and my pincers your scythes.”

“…” Mark blinked.

He ignored that and looked to the last one who hadn’t spoken.

Elizabeth, still curled in on herself, suddenly spoke up. “It’s… lonely out there.”

She whispered, her voice nearly fading. “You should… stay here. It’s safer.” She gripped the hem of her dress and looked at Mark with her large blue eyes.

Mark felt the urge to rub his temples.

If it weren’t for the weight of Vaelin’s presence in his mind, he might have laughed. He was being stopped by his own servants from leaving his own fortress.

His lips curved into a faint smile at the thought.

“It’s already decided. I’m leaving,” Mark declared, silencing the hall.

In the end, he still had the final say. Asking their opinions was only meant to hear a perspective different from Hermos’s.

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Mark was still determined to go.

Hermos, realizing there would be no retreat, made one last attempt. “If that is your will, Sovereign… then at least allow one of the commanders to accompany you. Karkinos or Carmilla would make suitable escorts.”

“Yes, I would be delighted—” Carmilla said quickly.

“No. I need you here,” Mark refused at once. “The Ziggurat is still awakening, and the other three commanders remain in deep sleep. Until they rise and security stabilizes, you are the pillars of this place.”

He turned to the butler in the white suit. “Hermos, you will handle the administration. If anything important happens, inform me.”

Then Mark shifted his gaze to the back of the hall, focusing on the small figure in a top hat. “Pippin will come with me.”

The choice caused a moment of confusion.

“I fear that may not be appropriate, Sovereign…” Hermos said, eyeing the ‘blood brother’ with suspicion.

Pippin was, by far, the weakest member present. However, Mark had a strategic reason rooted in the hidden logic of the cards Hermos had once let slip from his control.

In the game, Hermos and Pippin belonged to the Winged Clan and possessed a racial passive Mark had never seen be useful in tower defense.

[Bloodline Resonance].

In the unit description, it stated that members of the same bloodline of the Winged Clan could share information across long distances. In the game, it served only as narrative flavor to give a small damage bonus if both were on the battlefield.

Basically filler.

But this was no longer a game.

Hermos could emit ultra-frequency waves that Pippin, even kilometers away, could hear. The two were like walking biological radios.

As long as Pippin stayed by his side, Mark would have a direct line to the fortress.

“Pippin will be my connection to the Ziggurat,” Mark explained. “We’ll keep in contact that way.”