Translator: Pai_

Before long, the magical beasts to carry Rodor and the highest-ranking nobles of Carmine were prepared.

Most of the magical beasts raised by House Carmine were marine types, and many had been killed or gravely injured in the battle for the capital, but that didn’t mean they had nothing useful for land movement.

They were just few in number and lacked powerful magic, making them unsuitable for large-scale mobilization.

Rodor chose all four attendants to accompany him as possessed like himself.

Since two of the seven gods who had originally ruled over Carmine were captured by Turan, it was practically the full gathering of what remained.

“Is it just coincidence that the number fits perfectly?”

“No way. We have to assume that Carl and Yota already spilled everything.”

Carl was the common alias for Jemel among them, and Yota referred to the other god who had been captured with him.

They assumed the two, who were already prisoners, had confessed most of the important information to Turan.

Had it been them, they probably would have done the same.

“More importantly, did you understand what he said?”

“About the King of Calamity, sure, they probably learned that from Carl and Yota. But I didn’t get the second part.”

“Probably a way to return to Earth.”

At Rodor’s words, the other gods widened their eyes.

“That’s... even possible?”

“But even if I could return, I don’t really want to.”

“Don’t you miss cola?”

“You’d go back to a human Earth body just to drink cola?”

“Ah, come to think of it, yeah, no thanks.”

Even while riding their magical beasts, they conversed fluently as they crossed hills and streams.

They ignored the reactions of startled people who pointed at the sight of five swift-footed magical beasts, wolves, deer, mountain goats, snow leopards, carrying people.

"Anyway, that's why I decided to meet them. I'll have to know the exact details after talking......but among us too, there would be people who want to return if they could."

“Hmm.”

So, as they debated among themselves, they traveled for about an hour.

At last, Mount Agran, the promised meeting place, came into view.

“That must be it up there...”

“Everyone brought their items, right?”

“Of course.”

“This kind of feels like we’re prepping for a boss raid. Kinda thrilling.”

“This isn’t the time to be goofing around. It’s actually dangerous, so stay sharp.”

At Rodor's reprimand, one of the gods of Carmine gave an embarrassed expression and nodded.

Though recent misfortunes, including the last battle, had piled up, there were still some among them who could not take the situation seriously.

It was the result of inertia formed over thousands of years of reigning and living in power that couldn’t easily be shaken off.

After all, even human elders in their seventies or eighties struggle to change the ideas they held in their youth, how much more difficult would it be for beings thousands of years old?

“Detection?”

“For now, I only sense one human presence.”

“He really came alone? That’s bold.”

When a companion who could draw upon the power of the Chaser class through Soul Magic said that, Rodor muttered in a tone mixed with admiration.

No matter how confident he was in his own strength, he must have known that Rodor had come with other possessed vessels.

Just limiting the personnel to five showed that he had intended for only them to come from the beginning.

Could it be that even if negotiations failed and they turned hostile, he was confident he could escape on his own?

They would find out when they spoke in person.

Riding magical beasts, they climbed the rugged mountain for about five minutes.

At last, they reached the summit and came face-to-face with a young man sitting on a rock, reading a book.

A young man with ash-gray hair tied back and ash-gray eyes.

Turan Parsha was waiting for them.

“You’re quicker than I thought. There’s still a long way till sunset.”

“Probably the foothills are already in shadow. The sun sets later at the summit.”

“True.”

Snap. Closing his book, Turan used Tracking Magic to confirm whether anyone else had followed them.

Judging by the hundreds of approaching presences from far off, it seemed they had indeed brought troops.

But since it would take them a long time to climb the mountain anyway, it didn’t matter.

This surprise meeting led by Turan had two major advantages.

First, it minimized the time loss from sending a messenger, receiving a reply, choosing a meeting location, and then having both sides face each other.

Considering it had taken several months to meet with Haroon in the past, this advantage needed no further explanation.

And second, unlike a few days ago, he wouldn’t be isolated in the middle of the enemy's power center.

Turan didn’t waver even though he knew Rodor and those behind him were all possessed vessels of Carmine.

Even if he couldn’t win against them now, he was confident he could at least escape without much trouble.

'Though knowledge gained through someone's death leaves a bitter taste.......'

Feeling a bitter taste in his mouth, Turan forcibly turned his attention back.

Now was the time to focus on the meeting.

“We’re not people with time to spare, so let’s get to the point. Was it Monarch who gave you the King of Calamity?”

“You...”

When Turan calmly mentioned the name, Rodor showed a visibly uncomfortable reaction.

Even though they had once been adversaries.

“Did you say that on purpose?”

“Who knows.”

To Rodor’s pressing, Turan answered with a smile.

Just as he said, mentioning Monarch's name here was intentional.

Due to Monarch’s trait of detecting when he’s being spoken about, he would now know that Turan and Rodor had met and talked.

If they tried to cooperate on something again later, this fact would become an uncomfortable thorn.

“Cut the crap.”

“Games aside, I’m being serious. There’s a chance Jemel was mistaken.”

“Yes, that’s right. It was him. Though it was his right-hand man who delivered and gave the instructions directly.”

“Badal?”

Rodor hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

As Turan let out a thoughtful “hm” and nodded, Rodor posed a question.

“Then let me ask now. The second thing, what did you mean by that?”

He had expected it, but for these gods, the idea of returning to their original world seemed to hold even greater significance than anticipated.

For Turan, who had no desire to go back and live on Hisaril Hill, it was an emotion hard to understand.

Was it what they called homesickness?

Or perhaps the civilization they once enjoyed truly did offer such immense pleasures.

Turan had once absorbed portions of the memories of Cadrum - Junseo, but even that hadn’t allowed him to understand.

The life he had seen through Junseo’s memories was filled not with happiness and joy, but with inferiority and hatred toward the world.

“You spoke frankly, so I suppose I should answer in kind. That guy and Zahar have joined forces again. They’ve apparently found a way to return to their homeland and plan to go back together.”

Seeing Rodor and the Carmine gods' faces harden at this, Turan calmly relayed the stories he had heard from Haroon.

That they intended to return to the old world while maintaining their divine bodies, and reign there as gods.

Rodor, who had been silently listening, stroked his beard and asked.

“And why are you telling us this?”

“Why do you think he didn’t make this offer to you?”

The justification for Monarch, Badal, and the Aravion-Nagin alliance drawing in the gods of Zahar lay in the tracking and concealment abilities they possessed.

Though the bloodline powers of those two families, dominating humans and animals, wielding lightning and wind, were plenty appealing, to dominate that world, those two abilities were considered essential as well.

Even more so, their combined bloodline skill, the “Eye of Truth” was a formidable ability befitting a ruler or inquisitor.

But Turan intentionally omitted these facts and instead wove his own explanation.

“Probably because they didn’t want to share power and authority with you. You’ve spent millennia manipulating the mermaids and borrowing their power while being hostile to the other gods.”

“Hmmm.”

“If those guys leave on their own, it’ll just be you and us left here. I don’t need to say what happens next, right?”

If Meisa were to take over Aravion in Badal’s absence, then the four families, Aravion, Parsha, Lavitas, and Varaha, would press down on Carmine unopposed.

Even if Carmine were still in its prime, such an assault would be impossible to withstand, let alone in its current fallen state.

Of course, considering their great strength in naval and river warfare, they could abandon the mainland entirely and flee to the islands of the North Sea or South Sea and harass their enemies to survive...

But hadn’t House Carmine forced their way onto the continent in the first place precisely because they didn’t want to live like that?

Being adept at naval battles didn’t mean they enjoyed life at sea.

Especially considering the threat of the Great Sea Serpent Mermaids, who, despite one collaboration, could hardly be called allies.

“It’d be wise to keep in mind that even if they offer to take you with them later, there’s a high chance you’ll be discarded. If they truly meant to bring you along, they would’ve told you from the start.”

Even if they later promised to bring them along in exchange for turning against Turan, that would be a lie. The whispering voice, snake-like in its insidiousness, seeped into the ears of the Carmine gods.

As everyone fell into gloom, a god in the form of a young woman shouted in an irritated tone.

“Stop beating around the bush and say what you want. What do you expect from us?”

Looking at her deeply furrowed expression, Turan suddenly thought of Visen.

The young noble who had helped him subdue a mad noble in the past and later went mad herself.

They looked alike because they shared the same bloodline, but their expressions and speech were entirely different.

Then again, considering things, the personality inside that body was most likely male.

According to the information gathered so far, there were almost no gods who had originally been female.

“Of course, I’m saying we should join forces. If we defeat them, the technique to cross into another world will be in our hands, so you can take it and return to your original world, and leave this land to us. It benefits us both, doesn’t it?”

It was the same proposal he had once made when surrounded by the gods of Zahar.

The Carmine gods whispered among themselves, but there was no sign of rejection in their expressions.

On the contrary, anticipation was plain on their faces.

Naturally, those who had said they wanted to remain here also didn’t want to lose the bodies and noble status they had gained, so if that could be preserved, there was no question which was better.

Nuclear missiles, aircraft carriers, and tank divisions were concerning, yes, but with a couple of family-head-level wizards, they could overcome even that.

And with a well-planned strategy, they might not even need those.

While his companions were busy burning up their circuits of happiness, Rodor, who had been silently listening, wore a pensive expression and then sharply shot back.

“That guy’s no fool. If that had really been possible, I think he would have proposed it to you before us. Doesn’t that mean there’s a reason you had to refuse?”

As expected, his nickname “Lawyer” truly denoted someone smart, he was certainly sharper than the others.

To this, Turan gave the answer he had already prepared.

“You’re right. I received a similar proposal but turned it down. From what I heard, executing that plan requires a well-crafted, powerful wizard’s body, like Meisa’s. I don’t know exactly why, though.”

“Hmm.”

Rodor let out a groan, sensing through Turan’s tone that this was a condition Turan found non-negotiable.

If what he said was true, then cooperation would be just as difficult on their end.

“And the solution to that?”

“To grind down their souls and forge new bodies with them. With several god souls, you could probably substitute for several hundred thousand, maybe even millions, of people.”

At Turan’s words, all of the gods of Carmine made faces of disgust.

Considering how many had likely already been sacrificed for the sake of their own immortality, that attitude was appalling.

The sheer hypocrisy of it brought a scoff to Turan’s lips, but he clenched his teeth and suppressed it.

“That’s a bit...”

“Because you think we’re all fakes and you’re the real humans, so it’s hard to justify sacrificing you?”

“Um, no. Not exactly, but...”

A god in the form of a middle-aged man murmured as if making excuses, but this sentiment was, in fact, what all the fallen gods lingering in the modern era shared.

That the native people of this world were mere NPCs, and only those who had crossed over from the real world were true humans.

Because of that belief, even when they clashed and captured each other, as Turan once had, they refrained from brutally mutilating soul forms, opting instead to imprison them as hostages for negotiation.

Once they started down the path of cruelty, they might be forced to keep killing and being killed until they were the last one left in this sealed world.

To them, Turan declared firmly.

“That’s why I’m saying I’ll handle the dirty work. You just have to join forces with me, fight when it’s time to fight, and then after we win, go back and enjoy your world as much as you want.”

The gods of Carmine silently stared at the hand Turan had extended toward them.

Though they had once been called the King of Devils by other races, that truly felt like a devil's proposal.

*****

For more chapters, you can check out my Patreon here –https://patreon.com/Pai_

If you enjoy this novel, please review and rate it at Novelupdates. Thanks! 😊