Chapter 44: An Old Acquaintance

But now was no time to admire the graceful stance of a beautiful girl.

The desecrators, each with grotesque and varied forms, slowly parted to block the path ahead of the two.

These were monsters deeply corrupted.

Twisted sharp horns sprouted from their joints and skulls, their skin bearing shades of red, green, purple, and blue, with most even possessing extra arms and legs.

Their barely human bodies were clad in thick cloth and armor.

They were just one step away from being completely swallowed by the Sea of Souls, making it hard to say how much of their original consciousness remained—or if they had already become mere puppets of the Great Lord’s minions.

To normal people, their horrifically deformed appearances were utterly repulsive and twisted; yet in their own eyes, these forms represented divine blessing and favor.

Among this monstrous horde, however, one figure still retained a human shape.

“This is truly surprising.”

A man in a military uniform with slicked-back hair stood at the forefront of the desecrators.

Hands clasped behind his back, chest thrust forward, the gold medals pinned to his chest jingled with a swish, making the old yet meticulously maintained uniform shine brilliantly.

At his waist hung a cavalry saber with a worn emblem.

Around his black boots was wrapped a faded red tassel.

“You arrived later than I expected, traitor Loki.”

“How could there be such a grand occasion… so it’s you, Solis.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, a sneer playing across his face as his contemptuous gaze swept over the man.

He certainly knew him.

Since being raised by the Truth’s Hand in his childhood, he had endured nearly endless harsh training.

Hand-to-hand combat with dangerous wild beasts, fighting his way through a band of desperados with nothing but a small knife—such training was commonplace.

Until Loki knocked Solis down with a single punch, he had never escaped this stagnant, deadened life.

As for Solis’s identity…

He was a general from a nation annexed by the Empire.

In a crucial battle, his main forces were effortlessly annihilated by the Empire’s war machines and magical troops.

Hundreds of thousands were buried without honor on a desolate battlefield, and the nation was extinguished.

While other desecrators sought divine grace, evolution, and complete release of their desires through fanatical devotion to the Great Lord, Solis’s pursuit was only revenge against the Empire.

Absolute revenge.

Not just the Empire’s royalty and nobility, but every single Imperial citizen, every pet and livestock raised by the Empire’s people, even every stone on Imperial roads had to be crushed to dust dozens of times over.

Solis whispered in Loki’s ear more than once, trying to brainwash him into becoming a madman who hated the Empire as much as he did, even placing great hopes on Loki as the wedge that would drive the Empire toward destruction.

It was a reward bestowed by the Lord of Fate.

Yet, in the end, things turned out differently.

Loki, without hesitation or mercy, destroyed Solis’s obsession that had lasted half a lifetime.

Whenever he recalled how the despair and terror painted on the faces of these desecrators was caused by what he did to the Truth’s Hand in the end, Loki felt the suffering of his early years was nothing serious.

“I thought Christine had turned you into minced meat. Didn’t expect you to still be hanging on… and even bringing along a bunch of useless stray dogs.”

Loki taunted.

“Neither your homeland nor the Truth’s Hand can save you. If I were as prideful as you, I’d have long since committed suicide out of shame.”

This hit hard.

The cold-faced soldier immediately twisted into a grimace, clenching his black-gloved hands tightly.

There was only one person in the world who could make him lose his composure like this.

Solis wished he could crush this damned traitor right before his eyes.

Though a wildfire raged in his chest, threatening to burst forth, he forced himself to stay calm—even if it went against his nature.

Even though the man before him was no longer the brave warrior of old, he was not someone to be taken lightly.

A lion must give his all when hunting a rabbit, especially when the rabbit was already a wounded beast trapped in a cage.

…He had endured years of hiding his nature under the Truth’s Hand, climbing the ranks, only to turn around and ruthlessly destroy everything in the organization.

That alone was proof enough that beneath his seemingly normal facade hid a madman rivaling any desecrator.

Only a soulless one could accomplish such a feat.

Though from the start it was known Loki was an unpredictable variable, the Chief had tried to tame him and adopted him.

The Lord of Fate, holding the strings of destiny, observed what it was that obscured the future He foresaw.

—But Loki deceived everyone.

Including the supposedly all-knowing Great Lord.

He liked unpredictability, liked to go back on his word, liked to toy with faith.

But if He discovered that from a certain point the future turned into a cold darkness, and remained so forevermore, He too would feel fear.

That meant fate was no longer under His control.

That meant His “disqualification.”

That was why He guided all His pawns to charge into that mocking, impotent darkness.

Thus, the slaves of fate had, besides pleasing their master, one more mission.

Kill the soulless one.

“That will be after I grind you and this Empire to dust.”

Solis said.

He drew his cavalry saber and raised a pistol in the other hand.

Though confident in his victory, if even the Great Lord could not offer an answer, then from the very beginning one must be ready to die.

Though initially the plan had been to buy time for the witch Reese to escape and spread seeds of chaos so the plan could continue, how could Solis continue to endure upon seeing Loki’s face?

Loki just smiled.

It was not to show disrespect to his opponent.

He simply wanted to talk trash, that was all.

“You’re still so confident, Solis.

But then again, looking back on your life, it seems there’s nothing left to lose besides this one life.”

Bang!

The gunshot echoed.

Solis was not some faceless stranger on the internet; expecting him to just blush and respond with clumsy insults was naive.

But the bullet did not hit Loki.

It ignited the moment it left the barrel.

Burning in midair, it was reduced to a fleeting flash of fire like a helium spark.

This was the witch’s doing.

Loki glanced at Ina.

The girl expressionlessly gave him a peace sign.

“…After all these years, it seems the only thing you’ve improved at is running your mouth and hitting on women, traitor.”

Solis spoke displeased.

His focus was entirely on Loki, causing him to miss the assistant standing just behind the youth.

Solis would never underestimate an opponent based on appearance.

Decades of battle experience told him the girl reminded him of the witch Reese—but far more threatening.

She was a formidable witch.

The coming battle would be difficult.

But it did not matter.

The Master was always watching them.

If they fell behind, He would bestow great blessings.

Everyone present was prepared to make sacrifices—an advantage their opponent did not have.

They only needed to please Him.

“Thank you for the compliment.”

Loki lightly snapped his fingers.

“Shall we begin?”