The sound of footsteps and clinking clangers hit the ears of the Undead leader, who immediately turned to find out where the sound came from.

Thud Thud

Clang

“Actually, she was talking about me,” said a black shadow. “She did notice those too, but somehow decided it would me my problem rather than yours.”

Codfish icily glared at the total-black armor appeared out of nowhere. He suddenly sensed his blazing Aura. “Third Phase, huh? You’re a bold one. No one under the Fourth Phase could even hope to defeat me! Hahah, you brat have come to di-“

Codfish’s words died out newborn; Pseudonym grabbed him by the head and lifted him up. Pseudonym’s terrifying Aura erupted. It suppressed any Codfish’s attempt at a resistance.

“Not as bold as you,” Pseudonym said in a hoarse voice.

Bang!

Codfish’s head exploded in a blood rain as Pseudonym turned towards the other Undead. With a twist of a hand, he generated a string of black tongues of fire he targeted towards them. They soon engulfed the remaining Undead, who turned into ashes in a split second. Before dissolving, the Undead let out bloodcurdling cries that sent a shiver down Helial’s and his group’s spine.

Helial, Snowflake and Vlad stared at Pseudonym in bafflement. They all knew Pseudonym by the fame which preceded him, but never did the very legend disclose before their eyes. Codfish was merely in the Early stage, though in the Fourth Phase nonetheless. How could possibly Pseudonym kill him so easily?

He had cast no Skill. Yet he made a killing.

What was the real extent of Pseudonym’s power?

Pseudonym took a step forward towards Helial.

***

Sect of the Worthy, Aure’s studio

A panting servant was rushing toward a hardwood door. He frightfully knocked and waited for someone to give him permission. He had a lump in his throat.

From within the room, a voice resounded out: “Come in!”

The servant pushed the door and took a fearful step in. A couple of candles were shedding a feeble light in the dismal room. Their shadow cast a ghastly shadow on the serious faces of the men standing inside.

Despite the darkness, the servant felt four pairs of stern glares fix on him as if in an attempt to skin him alive.

Fear.

The servant lapsed into silence, trembling with such fear he forgot the reason why he had stepped inside that wolf den.

An impatient voice wakened him from his slumber: “So?”

The dead-fearful servant promptly tried to recollect himself: “Y-Yes, my lord! Someone detected the presence of a group of Undead outside the Orman walls, across the Goblin lands.”

Everyone raised an eyebrow. Only Aure seemed to remain unchanged. “Go on,” ordered the second Immortal in Orma.

However, the servant could not speak any farther. Comodus, Animus and Brutus were suffocating him through a terrifying pressure under which he could move no muscle.

Often times in Orma people would assert their status through mere strength in order to warn the weaker they had better stick to their place. Aure despised this shameful show-off; it only prevented the attendants to do their job. Unlike the men standing before him, he had completely withdrawn his Aura.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

With a twist of a hand, he had the pressure weighting down the servant dissolved. The others abruptly turned towards Aure, in puzzlement.

As he felt the gripping burden disappear from his heart, the servant quieted down a little. “It would appear they attacked the King’s pupil! But Pseudonym was there too. He saved them. They said he killed off every creature trying to ambush the King’s pupil in the blink of an eye!”

Suddenly, a hint of satisfaction flashed across the servant’s face; the Human really proved to be so useless he hadn’t killed no Undead. Obviously enough, a simple servant was not aware about the plans of the most powerful men in Orma. He had no idea the ambush was indeed organized by those he was speaking to in order to eliminate the Human boy.

Comodus immediately lost his temper. He gave a disdain glare at the satisfied smile of the unsuspecting servant who, for his part, only waited for them to dismiss him.

Comodus felt a sudden urge to vent his anger on that inept servant by blowing him to such small pieces his body could never be reassembled. However, Aure’s glare pierced him. His father was no tyrant, let alone a despot.

Aure had indeed fought his way to the position he currently boasted. He would have never killed an insubordinate without solid ground to do so.

On the contrary, Comodus had been raised in utter luxury. His position had come at no cost. His life had gone smooth enough. He didn’t know what mercy meant, let alone sacrifice.

In Comodus’ eyes, any servant was no different than some animal whatsoever. This was the reason why Aure would never let Comodus become the new guild leader of the Sect of the Worthy.

Aure was trying to tumble Caesar from the throne only because a nationalist like him could not bear Caesar’s lax attitude any longer. Aure had spared no effort for Orma. He wouldn’t watch his city collapse without lifting a finger.

“You can go,” Aure said with a smile on his face.

The servant bowed and hastily hurried away, closing the door behind.

Aure began to write again. As he noticed Comodus’ glare at the door, he casually added: “If I should be informed of the death or disappearance of that servant, you’ll need to find a brand-new pair of hands.”

Uncontrolled fury mounted Comodus’ body, though he couldn’t object. His father was still committed to the ancient Orman values. He couldn’t get over a pointless life waste.

If Aure thought that Goblins were meant to fight altogether like brothers, from Comodus’ standpoint they were but beetles he could play with to reach his goals.

Animus tried to lighten up the tension: “We need to focus on the fact the Human pupil is still alive, Aure! This will ruin our plans!”

“If Orma doesn’t declare war to the Undead, it will be them who will,” Aure said with a hint of disdain in his voice. He glared at his son Comodus and shook his head. If he weren’t his flesh and blood, he could have already torn him apart. Why was his son so disgraceful?

And why would Animus and Brutus support him?

Aure stared at the paper before his gaze, brushed his fingers against their surface and accurately put them inside his desk drawer.

He stood up and crossed his hands behind his back. His purple tunic fluttered like the ceaseless flowing of sea waves.

“The root of Orma’s problems isn’t the boy. This won’t change our plans. If he became even stronger, he would still pose us no problem as soon as he doesn’t become an Immortal. And that won’t take him short. Our biggest problem, as things stand, is Pseudonym. We can’t muster a regiment big enough to eliminate him,” Aure said as he pondered his every word, “or we’d draw the attention of the Clan of the Heavenly Eagle. We know he’s in the Third Phase Intermediate stage, but the real extent of his strength is something we have no clue on. One day, he could become the worst thorn in our flesh.”

Comodus took a step forward: “What if I challenged him in the Arena?”

Aure gave him the look one would cast to a retarded.

“Do you really think th- Well, you know what? Be my guest, challenge him in a life or death match. Maybe I would finally get rid of the retarded I call my son.”

Before that father-and-son grudge, Animus and Brutus couldn’t but fix their gazes down low.

“I am in the Fifth Phase Intermediate stage! Pseudonym is two full Phases under me!” Comodus said as he lost his temper.

“Be my guest, I said. I can’t wait. Someone please tell Pseudonym he doesn’t need to refrain only because he’s fighting my son,” Aure said with a smile as he stretched his arms outwards.

Comodus was about to explode in fury. However, his bit his lips until they bled and fell silent.

Animus and Brutus gazed at him in bafflement without saying a word. How high was Aure’s consideration for Pseudonym?

Orma knew Pseudonym as an unmatched monster. Though, they didn’t expect the second Immortal in Orma to pay such respect to that black-armored warrior.

“If my son were Pseudonym, I wouldn’t have needed to stoop to such intrigues,” Aure said helplessly.

Then, he shrugged and went on to say: “We need Pseudonym out of this game. He can’t be the spanner in Orman works forever.” He gave Animus, Brutus and Comodus a serious look. “I’ll have the smartest one in this room deal with it.”

Animus, Brutus and Comodus exchanged a look as they wondered whom would be charged with that task.

“It’s me, of course. Idiots,” Aure exclaimed. “If I need something to be done properly, I’d better rely on myself only.”