Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 1010 The Next Calamity?

Embrell was still recovering from what had just happened. Her response to the tense situation from a minute ago had not gone the way she thought it would. She had begun to feel uneasy when Skullius' monument was destroyed and when the Ode hurried to erect his Territory, she followed suit in order to keep Skullius alive.

That was the least she could do for someone who was fighting on the Sif's behalf, after all.

Her surprise at the fact that he didn't help at all, though, blew her mind.

Never had she ever imagined that there was someone who could destroy a Territory by oversaturating it with an absurd volume of, well, anything. The fact that Skullius did this to not only her, but the Ode too was unbelievable.

What followed next was even more mind-boggling. The darkness, that light... Strangely, Embrell was not afflicted by the long-term effects, like the Ode and the old hag. Even the millions upon millions of summoned creatures from before were also lost in desire and stitched to the fabric of space.

This was all because of the behemoth sitting in the air, its face still unseen because of its extraordinary height. It appeared Skullius was going to keep it around for a little while longer, and that, sadly, prolonged Embrell's unease.

Then again, looking at the Hybrid Luman now as he boldly gave her the right to kill all the Maqians left, she couldn't help but remember the declaration that Skullius had made:

'I alone will end the war.'

And he had done so as he promised.

The Queen walked closer towards Skullius as he nodded back, acknowledging his gift. He looked back to Umbett.

"Curious enough. It seems your allies, those Emeradis Summoners have fled. Well, those that aren't dead at least. I can't sense them among the remainder of your force that I have captured. Was that part of the plan?" Skullius asked.

Umbett didn't answer. A cold look remained in her eyes as she glared at Skullius.

The Hybrid Luman scoffed.

"Of course. The old tend to be tight-lipped. Maqi hasn't lost its honor, I see."

Skullius assumed that there was a very loose agreement between the Maqians and the Summoners from Emeradis. Neither really needed the other's help, but it seemed there was common interest in Opungale. The Maqians wanted to take the land and Emeradis wanted the mana from the citizens.

It was unknown what the mana was needed for, but if Skullius had to guess, the purpose was likely related to how the Sif had different ways of using their mana, just as every nation had biases, traditions and techniques native to them.

Well, as expected of the nation that bore the first Mage.

Umbett seemed rattled by something Skullius said. She couldn't show it because her body couldn't move an inch despite the light rippling waves of the water which were bonded to her feet, but her eyes said a lot, and then eventually, her voice came in an ominous tone.

"Lost honor? What exactly do you know of Maqi? You make assumptions and declare things that only one born in our land should know. Who are you?" she said.

Skullius stared at her for a long time.

Queen Embrell frowned as she alternated her gaze between the two.

What did this old woman mean? Surely…Skullius couldn't be a Maqian, right? Darwel – besides the other stuff she said, which Embrell didn't believe – had said that he was from Pelian. Even the Ode had been convinced of it, even though his assumption was based on Skullius wielding swords.

"My name is Festos. Festos Dawn. Ah, I haven't used my last name in a while. Curious where that name came from, hmm. I am not Maqian, but I am someone who knows a lot about that nation," Skullius said.

Umbett frowned a little more.

"Is that right?" she said with a testy tone. "I knew from the moment I saw that glowing abomination, that something was wrong. And now, THAT."

The old woman's eyes rose towards the sky.

"I only read of it from ancient texts, but to think I would get to see it. A mantle belonging to the scourge of our land. And to think that scourge actually crafted his legacy for someone else… We scoured for any remnants of him after that time and were convinced there were none. Yet here it is."

The Queen was startled.

Skullius narrowed his eyes.

"Of all the inheritances from those times… Boy, do you intend to become the next calamity after all these millennia?!" Umbett hissed.

Skullius remained silent while Embrell gulped. Her eyes shook. Scourge of Maqi?

No…

Skullius noticed her growing trepidation. The Queen was likely to have already put the pieces together. Oh well. It wasn't like this needed to continue being a secret anyway.

"Whether I become a bane for all existence depends on how my round trip around the world goes, I suppose. My first trip will of course be, somewhere that could easily be interpreted as my home, and then I have an old friend to visit. After that, I might have to kill something I created," he said while adorning a thoughtful smile. "So, as you can see, its not entirely up to me what I become."

Right as Umbett gave an ugly frown, a brisk, dark string knitted her lips together and soon, she had no mouth to use for speech.

"Stay still for now, will you? You can't break free of this as easily without both your voice and your limbs. This is a unique thread, you know. It exists outside the norm you're used to," he said and began walking away.

Embrell traced his figure with her beautiful eyes and then followed behind him.

The two walked in silence.

The tranquility that came after the harsh events just now felt misplaced.

The sky was marred by trails of blue and green difficult to identify as swarms of living creatures. It almost looked like a mural of gradient, simple concept art that gave the night a dash a flair, especially after the short-lived invasion.

One would have thought this was a much-needed sight for relief, but those who remained on Opungale didn't need it.

The enemies were subdued, incapable of appreciating it.

The victims were seedified, incapable of perceiving it.

And speaking of the seedification, Skullius saw, through the ever-loyal and jubilant nature which whispered scores of victorious melodies and wordless gratitude in his ears, the figure of the Deathly Ruse. It stood tall and proud, having lived through the assault by the enemies overheard.

It also seemed to have sucked in all the seeds – all of the citizens of Opungale – successfully. It was fortunate that that was the case, but it came at a price.

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