Bait, assassination, and ambushes were popular methods in every Hunts, coming from Hunters, or caused by the Hunted. Secondary methods were straight-up killings, while other circumstances needed better acts. Where secrecy, survival, strategies, or dangers were crucial, getting out of luxuries or sacrificing great tools was inevitable.
Two parties—or even numerous ones—had their intricate plans that would clash as a whole, or become their own bubble that would wrap them and end their story. Creating a clash of stakes came in tides, and some were dull, or very intense like flames or a raging inferno. In tiny little pieces, even those could crumble bit by bit, or survive to tell the tale as losers or winners in their respective domains. Gods felt that. Endless Skies was precarious and known for abhorrent sacrifices, tough choices, and cultures that expressed brutal yet honest ways of Divides. Still, it was about beings of the universe or its being.
In Hellscape, strategies acted as a change of pace, luck, or power, giving good ideas when necessary, plans when one failed, or where nothing else would work, better fleeting or reconsiderations might not be too far.
In the Battleworld, Encounter worked at the highest proportions of these principles, with wars accompanying them ever so closely, or around it like shadows. When Gods watched what could or have to occur, what wasn't right changed from wrongs, or their rights. And then, mortals could also influence it again those godly desires, giving everything a different layout, or clashing against them directly.
For mortals, it was a good way to establish themselves. For Gods, their loftiness and arrogance might consider mortal plays as petty scrambles.
Murai was the epicenter of a silly idea, though Razmund was also in it, but in a different picture akin to a tool that inevitably touched what he shouldn't have touched. It wasn't for him, though he wanted it anything, as he had his thoughts about this whole Encounter; separate from Gods, Murai, or others.
It was his chance to find peace; fix what he lost, and kill or finish what he had started.
When too many fools and lofty beings desired all sorts of benefits, some powers would inevitably take the largest of baits and cause havoc. Weirdly enough, it was a God this time around, and the cause was like any other. Vermillion was a problem in its finest principles, which Ozeki and Razmund realized now, rather than before.
It was because of his lack of focus on Centralis Kingdom, which didn't express every detail. It should have been different. Razmund recognized how he had overlooked something crucial, but it was too late to change anything. A God made her move, against the odds of what was normal, and his little temporal home though it was bigger than they thought.
Perhaps if he understood it earlier, their plans would have changed for the better, but who in their right mind would think of Vermillion raiding this temple, or the Voice stopping?
Now, of all times, he felt powerless but glad over his Dice.
Then, there was Ozeki, who cursed in his mind for a hundredth time, glad that he was stalling, and hopeless that Razmund's Dice was accurate. It read the Fate like a warning, offering an earlier decision to create a bait without revealing the truth. It might've felt this disturbance earlier.
Razmund was reluctant of Bloody Mery, as it was kind of ridiculous option to use it as a simple bait. Its clone would link to him, and its power wouldn't be small in the slightest under normal circumstances. It wasn't normal, so bait was all towards it.
For a long time, he hoped that Ozeki was enough of a bait, his army included. He would leave him be as he fought, before going onwards without them, coming for his target. It still happened anyway, albeit after a painful and gruesome death that he felt from many kilometers away.
Bloody Mery was precious to create and understand. It held a cost that Ozeki didn't want to acknowledge if it wouldn't be for that silly Dice. A lot of care and giving it rightful colors meant shredding doubts, holding a knife like a pen, and drawing from Razmund's blood and flesh a new life.
It wouldn't create a large disparity if Razmund was doubtful, weak-willed, or not quick enough. Destiny Dice felt it more, squeaking in agreement over the doubled view of Razmund, which guided him after he disappeared from Ozeki, hoping that he would meet no trouble when he was alone.
It was a gamble that paid off. Probably. For now anyway, for his target was far from this church and a helpful pair.
Ozeki thought it was kind of funny, considering Fate was often unreliable, yet Dice seemed to work just fine for some reason or it was the payment that mattered? Ozeki wondered just how much Razmund sacrificed over this whole trip. Was the blood it ate precious, or were essences and Razmund's attention or Fate enough for this madness?
Razmund was satisfied right now; glad to spend Ozeki like a fool, fearful that Ceila and her Paladins nearly killed their chances, and preoccupied with his next step.
Ceila was the same, distracted, ashamed, and furious when that silly mess of blood and gore turned to blood and Bloody Mery concluded. Hurrying forward might still be fine. Onwards! Without stopping. That was what her Lady said.
Spending this attention on a Hunt was rightful, yet it was hardly over because they had no Hunt, but delirious desires that had no distinct role for the Church. This was about Vermillion, so Razmund should hurry, and go ahead quicker before Ozeki met his limits, or Ceila became ruthless.
It was largely due to unlikely things happening ever since he arrived at this Gate, or was it even earlier? It was true that halted Voice shocked him to his core, but after he got the bigger picture from Helltrim City and his gatherings from Ozeki or Lint, he decided to take care of it in his own way.
Ideas of the Old World were interesting due to the matter of legends and history, and some powers in the Battleworld took them very seriously. Centralis Kingdom was powerful, holding some control over this continent even if its Grade A was attached to them and stuck for ages.
Frankly, becoming a true hegemon worthy of a Grade S power wasn't something easy, and very few kingdoms or nations were ever able to do it. The history described it over tens of thousands of years, and Centralis ought to learn it the hard way.
But they didn't listen.
Razmund was familiar with this history, for it was a world that wasn't riddled with crazy rules and mindful charades of Gods. It was tougher in a sense, but less brutal in its ways. It was near perfect for his Path, but it was distant like his former world and life that he didn't particularly enjoy. He would rather not rely heavily on Boosts or Gods, as swordsmanship was hard to grant on golden plates, and power shouldn't grow on trees.
Ever since he discovered that his little foe--in a small mission to the outskirts of Centralis Kingdom--survived his beating and seemed not that interesting, he questioned a lot of things and discovered even more doubts. From his home to life to struggles, everything became shitty.
It turned upside down when the Voice came, giving him chances that few in the Centralis Kingdom would achieve. It was about envy and pride, and this world and its fucking cultures couldn't ever learn. Razmund would be the same if it weren't for his mistakes and Blessed life.
It wasn't as obvious to lie, unfortunately. It was enough for the upper echelon of Centralis Kingdom to get this Encounter started on their terms, use him, and take it on by grasping him by his neck. It wasn't as obvious, though he let them, even if the true reasons weren't up to anyone.
Still, Razmund was a crucial Side of everything, while anyone could scheme all they wanted. It was within the rules unless they would move physically towards one Side or the other, influencing one or everything imminently.
In every case, the Centralis Kingdom was doing unlikely things that weren't that hard to ignore, or not understand depending on who was looking at them. Lisa realized it long ago, or was the whole Encounter sounding stupid like this ridiculous case?
What were the underlying undercurrents that changed it as a whole if not her and Murai? It was different on both Sides, that much Lisa had to know. Murai had his stake in Part 1, and Razmund wasn't a factor that could disappear. It would change like a politician.
Razmund had his dreams, hiding them in his heart and away from Lisa's views. Though she wouldn't care about them, it brushed past her like an annoyance.
Catching or killing Murai when he was a weak little Anatidae Child was kind of unreasonable, or very much necessary. If she thought about it from a higher point of view, of course.
Alas, it turned out to be quite a huge headache after just a few days of discoveries, taking on Murai's mind after her equitable rest, and what came afterward was less pleasing. It made everything behind that nap like a silly daydream.
Especially when Centralis Kingdom was giving it some attention, which either ended up slowing Razmund down, or touching upon some concepts that Lisa guessed, but couldn't see.
His target moved to the Levandis Temple with vigor and speed, which was unlikely, or very terrible consequences because Centralis considered it unlikely to happen. But it did, so some Gods might be fine with it and they had to adjust their turns. Razmund was the same.
Hence, he came like a Raider and Delver, reaching into this temple with even more vigor and unknowingly starting a mess that evolved into a Vermillion Church's invasion. After the Seventh Death Forest, which should've acted like a fine net, disappointments felt imminent.
It didn't come so quickly, which wasn't his fault. Razmund wanted to catch it on his own, but it ended up differently like many things, giving further questions and failures and doubts. Then, it felt like a reward because Centralis failed, while he had yet to lose.
Now, it wasn't as if Centralis couldn't move inside, or perhaps they better not do it unless they would devolve this situation even further. Only so much could be right when Levandis was watching from her lofty throne, followed by an unknown number of other Gods. At least in terms of her Hell, being too lofty—when Centralis had fewer allies—sounded like a terrible idea.
Razmund still wondered to this day what was the deal with that duck. After pain, stubbornness, and shocks, what came with the aftermath of that simple meeting, voices, and survival of this little and young foe—and Encounter at a later date that turned his kingdom to shambles—he doubted the world spun long before it wavered.
Not in reality, of course. This world would never stop spinning, for that would mean the end of something terrible, or good. It wouldn't be feasible, yet some beings could spin, stop, and handle worlds like ransacking through a simple pouch, ruling and taking eternal flows made of Gods by a game run by morons. For some, it was no different from an inevitable apocalypse when worlds would halt in their axis, or a hole would go through it like poking a soft-boiled egg.
That left many Gods pondering, fearful, and trying to not seek such consequences. One such inevitable tool was taking forceful turns for nothing but a hopeful Razmund.
Ceila was taking a different mantle, worried about history and its repeating Fate, yet if it was the Will of her Lady, she would bear the cost like her Kingdom, Church, or herself. There were no stops anymore.
She hoped the repercussions of stealing such a wild worldly flow wouldn't hurt her Lady too much, though perhaps it was wishful thinking or a naivety beyond her age and experience. All Gods should be furious! The world of mortals was in shambles, with the balance of many millennia wobbling with dramas and instability.
Vermillion accomplished something none ever did. She stole crucial a tool that Lordis used to establish dominance and hopes for many Gods and mortals.
If this went fully public, ostracizing the cause of his culture, it would shatter Vermillion Church and many others. It was about face, and Gods were quite keen on keeping theirs safe. Most of the time anyway.
Fortunately, the worst was unlikely to happen because Lordis kept the news confidential and out of the Surface, hoping that the status quo would prevail. Alas, he feared it wouldn't calm, and that some mere Rank 2 God stole under his watch would watch out for her neck.
It wasn't his fault that it happened. It was a matter of time before something terrible happened, but he wouldn't acknowledge it for the sake of his arrogance and power. It went along Vermillion's plans, which came closer to knowing Gods and Divine Kingdoms of the Sky rather than anything else. She knew Lordis, and that guy wouldn't back down even if a whole bunch of Pantheons got restless and very angry that he allowed this to happen.
Rulers of the planets often grew ridiculous on top of their thrones, desiring to let it continue uninterrupted or let it grow even more no matter what.
It was a wonder what kind of a Ruler Lordis were, for the end was still not in sight.
Vermillion had her bets, so she made her moves.
There were some ceilings even for Gods who mastered their Paths. It was always like that. Divides touched upon the universe like Laws did some elements, growing until they would shatter the boundaries and limits, or fulfill their premise.
In the Surface and many Hells, most beings took Boosts and the workings of Will of the Battleworld for godly work. It was mostly true, but most thought they were blessings from them, and not coming from a specialized tool with millions of little components that was the planet itself, or part of a constructed medium in the biggest Divine Sphere above the Battleworld.
Most took Boosts for what they could be, yet when it stopped flowing, panic grew, the bliss of power was stolen, and many people realized that things might not be as simple as they appeared.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Some outright feared that Gods left them on their own, leaving them to die, or that their End was coming.
That was the extreme side of the coin, especially when many Gods knew of the truth and hoped the tension would drop off.
It kept going, unfortunately, so they had to stop the distress from spreading.
Ceila could only hope it wouldn't go too far so her Lady wouldn't be able to solve her issues. Keeping some edge sharp, mind ready for any changes, and giving it her all was the least Ceila could do. For now, that was the Encounter and nothing else, obeying what her Lady envisioned.
Everything else was up to the Divine Kingdoms in Divine Spheres or her Lady, while those who wanted the flow to return couldn't do anything but wait.
Ceila managed the Surface, where the cause, or small relation to this tormented moment, resided. There were bigger parts of it, despite looking small or influencing additional bits.
One of those was before her, looking at her like an angry vicious devil who was ready to go all out or die trying.
Ceila glanced at Ozeki, who was a fierce retaliation form of Razmund's schemes. He should know it, though who wouldn't use such a fool to this advantage without a blink? How it happened was interesting, so Razmund wasn't without his merits for sure. He made dues with an iron fist, regardless if this devil was trusted, or wrong, while this devil felt cornered or caged without a way out.
Perhaps she should show him a way—by killing HIM!
Blessed didn't care for some Divine Power as far as their minds and Levels went. Cultures around the Skies and Hells took Divinity for a variety of things, and anything of that kind was one kind of Blessing if one wasn't able to get their own. Levels were limits or cages.
Their second chances came with Gods, as Afterlife was far more complacent, or this world was separate. Blessed were purposeful in their lives; willful in their growing stability and memories and often full of regrets. They knew what the End was like. At least once, which was more than a majority of Gods would dare to imagine. There was no Bliss thereafter; just Void or Chaos or Nowhere.
They were lucky ones for some reason, unknown in why or how they got their second chance to live or see through their regrets. Perhaps it was about balance or a way to guide souls for other reasons.
“Tossing a fortune like that, perhaps only a lunatic would do such a thing,” Ceila said to Ozeki, pointing at a pile of blood sizzling on the ground due to heat. He came closer, reaching the distance where he could attack in less than a breath. His reddened spear with a colorful tip was more than ready, similar to his stance and face.
Those seething eyes looked at her with ridicule and insanity, thought that spear was unquestionable. Ceila feared it a little bit if she had time to spare.
“Is some blood or flesh that precious, priestess? As I see it, there are a lot of bodies and things lying around at every corner. When you are also precious by yourself, similar to these Paladins, what can I say, eh, priestess? Close to God. Second Sun, or so it is stated to be your Title.” Ozeki said, itching his spear closer by moving it upwards, and taking a stance down, relative to his thrust.
Ceila didn't have a choice but to decide on a couple of wrong things. Leaving was easy and problematic in some parts, yet what would happen next when Razmund was alone and going against their Side? In fact, where was he? Had he gone so far away that made her attempts senseless?
Careful of Fate, my child, for we are going against the flow of a raging river.
Her Lady's voice carried her to this moment, albeit not forever. Direction and hoe from time to time in whispering hopes was all she could muster.
It was quiet, devoid of her voice, devoid of her tasks. There wasn't a need for it if there was total trust put on her shoulders.
The target was evident, presenting her with the mines of the Ip'ur Mountains for a destination, so Ceila waited in the largest plateaus before Sector 45. Most figures would move to Ip'ur Mountain through this location, and there were fewer ways to go around. If he went around, Razmund entered without her knowledge, or he did it before she even met Ozeki, or he slipped out of her touch anyway.
It was plausible if he used that. Wanting to go around these heated Sectors or the edges of the Scorching Light sounded like hell.
Ceila knew where Murai was and would go; she also knew where his portal was, which was a very important point that Ozeki or Razmund would never expect, the same way as Murai and Lisa.
That was her primary goal, with the secondary one being this situation right here. Used to be. It devolved into a situation that she didn't want to deal with after Razmund tricked her. Ozeki was unimportant.
Ceila wanted to leave straight away and not give Ozeki any further attention.
“Don't even think you can move from here!” Ozeki argued, speaking as if he saw through her mind.
Just now, she was inclined to step away and leave two of her Paladins to stop or hinder him in this place. Edging this devil too much against her wishes would endanger many points, and few priests would willingly fight the enraged devil of this caliber. She might kill him with everything too, but at what cost?
Razmund must be smiling, laughing, and getting closer to Murai's location because of that stupid Dice! Ceila had a very clear picture of nearly everything; a much better one than David, who had limited ideas, and not much clarity even now because she hadn't told him anything. Thanks to her Lady who was the mastermind of nearly half of the current happenings, Destiny Dice was a small matter. It was also impossible to touch or hear, and Ceila failed because of it.
She had her suspicions for a long, and when she saw Razmund without it, she thought he hid it away for good. She didn't though of a clone. None would blame her.
Guiding her subjects was easy. Stopping Razmund would be even clearer and working from there would change the pace even further, or create enough change in this whole mess that would shatter all of their consequences. For that matter, Ceila was clueless and dutiful, almost like a doll adhering to distinct principles.
Ozeki was of a different opinion. His whole body lurched like a tiger, his grip tightened over his spear, and its tip was turning into a wild storm of murder.
His eyes didn't glow too much, turning into a radiant murder of a maniac whose eyes carried a single target and task. Vein surged around his forehead, hands, and neck, guiding his blood like vessels of insanity.
In a moment, he appeared bigger than he was, even though his squatted stance and raging Domain changed once again. It became like armor and weapon, while his body bathed in this glory where he used his precious Heart Essence, looking like gold tears flying around the Domain and his spear.
“So you won't take the easy way out?” he asked. “I hoped for it, actually.”
“I could deal with you myself if I had to,” Ceila said coldly. Unfortunately, I don't care and don't feel like doing that. Shame.”
“Yes. Blood Magic,” Ozeki uttered coldly, almost whispering when he made his move in a blink. “Seventh Godmight!”
His Domain almost wavered and disappeared when he swung his spear aside, rather than unleashing a thrust in a wild pounce. His body trembled and his muscles enlarged when his Domain cut into his flesh. Then, it changed again when he jumped up, grabbing his spear above him; its tip aiming down. He looked like a bow with a thick arrow, but tight and collected, ready to pierce its target with tensed back, shoulders, and arms for the bow.
His muscles contorted within every inch of his body and armor, almost cracking, but this motion was enough and reached its peak. His spear wasn't moving, remaining in his hand and taking his momentum. For that sake, he grabbed it with both arms.
Ceila stood less than ten meters away, unmoving and giving him a helpless look.
The spear came in a moment, bearing to push the world apart in the wild momentum of a ridiculous thrust. Seeking the flesh was a farce. To destroy was its only wish. Ozeki wanted more and more, aiming his most ridiculous powerful thrust that he kept in place for a whole three seconds.
The spearhead was like a needle's tip, yet suddenly, it grew like a boulder, closing on Ceila who hadn't even blinked, yet it seemed the spear reached her immediately.
“No choices go unrecognized,” she whispered and snapped her fingers, gesturing a shield Paladin to step in. He slammed against this shattering strike that carried the Seventh Godmight, a Physique Technique that increased the Strength and Dexterity by a large margin.
It left the user with an unwavering body that was hard to stop. The more one moved, the easier it was to manage it, and every stop would create pressure until one wouldn't be able to move. It was a nasty technique. A true power fit for its name.
When it stopped, this power would keep overflowing, until it would burst the flesh apart of any target.
Ozeki used that point to his advantage, bursting in a way that he wanted when he stopped moving and let the power layer itself for another few seconds.
Yet that shielded Paladin stopped his thrust that twisted the air, his Domain, and then, it failed, cracking when the Spear twisted its left side in a dazzling light.
Divinity escaped and shackled the space just enough for the Paladin to change his arms, holding a sword in both hands and discarding the shield that had once served.
It was a wonder why not focus more on the shield for the defense. It would be better for stalling, or perhaps there was no way it would take this strike, so the Paladin angled his sword and defended with a masterful move.
He wanted to sidestep, for his sword was better than the shield. It glinted against a raging blood and power of the Seventh Godmight, creasing against this thrust, and pushing it away from Ceila and himself.
He couldn't move it; deflecting it was like trying to rip a tree apart with a pinky, or bearing with a mountain falling. The spear pressed him down, nearly stabbing his head and cracking his armor and helmet to bits. Its weight grew and grew and grew, giving more intensity to Ozeki who wasn't moving his body right now. Handling the upper end of the spear with both hands, floating in the air, and feeling how his body screamed at him, he waited.
None of them moved in the next couple of seconds when no one was able to make their moves.
That stopped when the spear crashed into the sword after Ozeki shouted and forced his way through, stumbling the Paladin aside and hitting his armor in a wild screeching noise. Weirdly, Ize Spear bounced back, scratching the plates and leaving many scars when Paladin flew away in a straight line for hundreds of meters.
Then his spear hit the ground, shaking it, and exploding the rest of the Seventh Godmight. Dust and heat became inconsequential when tremors traveled in waves, sand fused with the wind and storms, and blood cracked the ground around him. Accompanied by the best strike Ozeki had in himself, the ground broke apart and an immense explosion came from a single dot.
It did well, yet unable to aim at Ceila, who remained in place as if she had rooted her legs and fallen along the big boulder not that far away, a distinct light protecting her.
The dust settled, revealing Ozeki aside from his spear, breathing steadily. He drew the spear from the shattered ground and went ahead, unleashing yet another thrust on Paladin who realized his sword was bent and almost broke apart. He grasped his shield again and slammed against the spear, quickly moving it aside. Due to the loss of momentum, this exchange was no longer unequal.
Ozeki didn't flinch or move. He stopped, took a step aside, changed his grip, and made dozens of strikes next, striking this hurt and cracked Paladin who was soon without a weapon. Ozeki shrieked like a madman, unleashing his wrath and desires until the Paladin's armor began to lose its shape.
What followed was no surprise to anyone, although Ozeki hoped for something else. Expecting more from himself was an overestimation, and undermining the might of Radiant Paladins wasn't fair.
They were trained to fight against the godly forces since they were young, and they grew far from the Hells or the Surface. Some were the opposite of that, going closer because of situations like those, where they could descend for their duties or missions.
They had different visions altogether, yet Ozeki made his thoughts like a beast and thrust viciously. Right when a glistering longsword appeared in Paladin's hand, striking the spear away with unlikely strength, angle, and speed. It swung in an arc, causing a deep wound in Ozeki's torso, and shaking spear aside.
Ozeki backed away, hands trembling and his body wavered when he lost even more momentum. But he did enough and that armor and helmet were in pieces, revealing a uniform underneath and a rather stern young face.
He knew how tough these guys were, be it with legend, reality, or rumors. They tended to hold back quite a lot because of inherent limits sought by Divinity or their descend, and fewer of their armors were able to be their chains. Weapons were similar, yet vicious. Since they came to this point, turning real was fine. Ozeki shuddered, realizing this one shouldn't have a low Rank at all.
His spear survived this strike without a surprise, yet his blood and moves halted like his Domain that was half-scattered and half-lost its might. He stomped the ground, overcoming the force that swung him backward.
Ozeki hunched down, practically kneeling when he clutched his spear ahead, taking a deep breath and letting bloody mist escape his nostrils and mouth. This was his favorite stance since the tip was the spear's finest point. Its range was unquestionable, unlike the rest.
Blood flowed from the thin slice in his chest piece, letting thin and red streams down. It was his blood, yet Ozeki wasn't ready to take this blood for a tool. He still had his spear, and his Heart Essence didn't oppose him. It was enough, yet... not enough.
“As expected of the Radiants. You assholes are tough.” He said and breathed in again, readying for another exchange, just when that Paladin stood aside for Ceila, who watched this play as if it didn't matter to her.
“Will you care for two of them instead?” Ceila said, flickering her hand to express the end of the remaining flank.
The remaining Paladins were still fighting Ozeki's soldiers, yet when Ceila made her wish, the Paladin with a halberd swung it with incredible speed and might, killing and pushing away dozens of soldiers like bags. When the other got involved, they wiped them in a matter of a dozen seconds, right before Ozeki's unsurprised face and realization of who those figures were.
“Fucking Marquise... or, is it Duke?”
The one with the hammer had a humble approach and barely swung it twice. Stumbling and upsetting this laughable army was surprisingly easy.
The one with the halberd looked much stronger, as his weapon of choice was his primary weapon that was very close to spears in might. Its chopping and swinging strength was much stronger than a spear, but so far, Ozeki showed his thrust was equal to its swings.
Probably. He doubted he could deal with a Duke, though if he had to, he would do whatever he had to do.
Spears could do almost anything, frankly, as long as their wielder was good with them, whereas halberds could have various visions, close to spears, pole-arms, or even axes.
The flexibility of spears was hard to deny, nor was their point simple.
Walking to Ozeki in calm steps, a halberd-wielding Paladin pinned him between him and that sword-bearing colleague. It was a true pinch; a terrible time for any devil.
“Well, fuck me,” Ozeki breathed in and out, forgetting the matter with Ceila as he glanced at this pair. Then, he watched her serious and arrogant face and lowering arm. He had no choice but to regard this as his worst enemy.
He chose to let go of David and Ultium, whose attitudes after Razmund's clone died, changed. David knew this situation was far from satisfactory, even if Ceila showed her might, those crazy Paladins made their moves, and Ozeki felt even worse than he remembered.
Murai still had Itrosh and Bagus. They should be enough if they reach the Ip'ur Mountain. Perhaps they might have to go against Razmund, though David had constant dread about Razmund, whose powers and history were bigger than theirs.
Only Ultium might be closer to that guy, but even then, David challenged his preferences and no longer believed it. If Ozeki decided to be like that, perhaps their roles were different when he thought about it.
Sacrifices. Oh, how he wished to pin him against this army, Ozeki, and Razmund at the same time. Was David so trustful of Ultium's hidden strength and heart? He wasn't sure because there was never a certainty even after all those years. He thought he was making a good choice, but it seemed like he was sending his boy to a trial that would make one hell of an opening.
Razmund fought with Ozeki, winning him over by heart or might. That meant two different and very problematic circumstances, as David had no clue how he accomplished it.
Devils like Ozeki were hard to move thanks to their life in the military, or godly proximity, which steadied their hearts into an accumulation of pride, honor, contests, or desire.
Sometimes, all of these fused, creating a devil that had no bounds, feelings, or desires, or everything tamed in comparison. Some were open, hard to tame, for they had no need for that. Ozeki was old and his battle life never left him.
The craze would form, leaving their blood surging for no apparent reason, their military strength would shake armies, and their martial prowess could very well be like their cage like their heart.
David saw that Ozeki was stronger than expected, battling at least one Paladin on equal terms, while he began to feel even more threatening when golden droplets dropped.
Perhaps his weaknesses were too much for him, or they were barely truthful.
David looked at silent and disappointed Ultium, shaking his head, and looking at the pile of blood on the ground, wondering if he would fight these Paladins and win.
He didn't ask him anything, filled with uncertainty and hesitation, but feeling that Ceila could not be provoked.
That left a pair of Paladins in place, surrounding Ozeki who was like a fly caught in a spider web. Ceila gestured the one with the hammer to her side, allowing Ozeki to have some of his remaining and barely alive soldiers as her last gift.
Ozeki was sure that Razmund wouldn't complain to him now, for he failed. Hopefully, that bloody human grabbed this chance and reached his target when he was battling for his dear life.
This was already more than a devil could chew, but he would chew more and more, and even if he ended up broken, he had confidence in keeping his filthy life going. For himself and payback for that silly human.
Paladins were the same. If they were in danger of falling, they could flee or use the finest countermeasures they carried. There was nothing for them in this place besides Ceila. Ozeki was just a worm that was pestering her purpose.
Soon, the group ended with Ceila, a single Paladin with a hammer, Ultium, and David going towards the most burning point of this Province.