Chapter 11: The Winged Scout

A table suspended among the stars served as the meeting place of beings known as the Primordial’s Council.

They were a group of supreme gods tasked with safeguarding harmony across the many worlds within the reach of the Divine Order.

Though at that moment, only two figures were present, watching an image manifested in the endless cosmos.

Their attention was fixed on one world in particular, one that had only just begun to bloom.

“Zorovan, to think that the world whose festival you’re overseeing on a mere whim would gather so much potential…”

“Hmph, having an excuse to visit my granddaughter is no whim. It’s a way of life.”

“Hahaha, for someone with hundreds of children and grandchildren, you’ve always doted on Lirien to an absurd degree,” said a hooded god, his face hidden in shadow. “Though I suppose that’s only natural, considering she’s a goddess of life like her grandfather, and even more talented.”

“Ha! As if you knew my limits,” the old man snorted. “But speaking of talent and potential… Mevis, you once shared dominion over the realm of death before ascending as a supreme god. What do you make of him?”

“I assume you mean the mysterious guest… Honestly, I have no idea what the primordial god is thinking.”

Mevis stared into the void above them for a moment before lowering his gaze again.

“If I had to sum him up in one word, it would be extraordinary. Those skeletal soldiers were not normal.” Mevis leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands over his chest. “It was as if the most skilled fighters among the fallen had competed with one another for the chance to be summoned by him.”

“I see…” Zorovan murmured, stroking his beard.

“Even so, if you’re worried about your granddaughter’s rival, it still isn’t decided,” Mevis continued. “Our mysterious guest has shown unprecedented potential in mastering death… but there is another candidate who seems to walk with death itself.”

The image they were watching shifted and now showed a girl with hair the color of blood wreaking havoc across a shattered battlefield.

It looked as though she had taken on an alliance of factions by herself, and only a pair of demigods remained, fleeing for their lives… and they, too, were soon reaped.

***

“Ah… blue sky, fresh wind, the scent of flowers, and not a single skeleton wandering around me. What more could I ask for?”

Reclining on the green grass of the field, Nerez took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“Didn’t you say we were completely exposed out here in the open?” Vilkie asked, standing beside him. “Just look at what happened to the group we defeated a moment ago…”

“Relax, didn’t you see I sent a few skeletons to watch the perimeter?” Nerez replied, waving her aside so she would stop casting a shadow over him. “Those are still active. It’s important to rest once in a while. The stress of constant battles is going to catch up with you.”

“You still have skeletons summoned? I thought you’d stopped using that skill because it consumed too much spiritual energy…”

“What? Ah, no, actually, I didn’t notice the drain, now that you mention it… I should probably pay attention next time.”

“That alone tells me your reserves are impressive,” Aren said. “Vilkie, how high do you think they are?”

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“At least fifty thousand…”

“I’d say even more,” Aren added, one hand on his chin.

“But even if he didn’t lose his spiritual energy when he died, he’s still human…” Vilkie replied, copying his thoughtful pose. “Don’t tell me more than a hundred thousand?! Impossible! Not even Lirien should have that much, and she’s already a goddess!”

“All right, that’s enough! Keep it up and I’ll leave you two here alone!”

Nerez frowned and pushed himself up off the grass, a few leaves stuck in his hair, which Aren and Vilkie quickly removed in apology.

“What I want to know is how long this battle royale is going to last! Nobody ever says anything! I want to file a complaint with the organizer!”

“I heard some demigods complaining that Zorovan talked too much,” Aren argued, laughing. “In any case, it could last a day, or maybe even weeks. It depends on how quickly the number of participants drops…”

“Weeks?! Ugh, we’re going to have to find somewhere to camp…”

“Near a river or something?” Vilkie asked. “Safe drinking water is important.”

“Near a river? In the exact place where every other participant would go looking for us? What’s next? Start a campfire at night so everyone knows where we are?”

“Sorry… you’re right.”

“No… I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you’re still a child,” Nerez said with a sigh, hands on his hips.

“I’m nearly two hundred…” Vilkie murmured to herself.

“Sorry, Nerez, we only have experience fighting on battlefields,” Aren apologized. “We’ve never gone through anything like this competition.”