"I'm not afraid."
"This isn't about fear. I don't send people to their deaths."
Throne's smile was faint. The odds were too slim, the risk too great.
"We'll take the long way around."
He turned toward the woods, casting Unseen Form twice. In an instant, he vanished into the gathering dusk.
The eastern approach was too exposed. Instead, he headed west, skirting the coastline until he reached the cliffs. The tower loomed closer with every step. I didn't plan to come this way. Throne had no interest in complications. His goal was simple: kill Greyoll and be done with it.
But the closer he got to the spire, the heavier the unease in his chest. It wasn't until he was almost upon it that he realized the problem.
Damn. He'd never been this close to a Divine Tower before. Not in Limgrave, not in Liurnia. He'd always kept his distance, passing by from afar. Now, under the rustling canopy, he raised his hand slowly.
"Something's wrong."
"What is it?"
Millicent's eyes darted across the surroundings, her guard up.
"It's too quiet. No animals. Not even a rabbit. The dragon's ten kilometers away—it shouldn't have this kind of effect."
The air itself felt wrong. It wasn't the dragon. It wasn't any enemy he recognized. It was something else entirely—
Snap.
He spun around. A white, fleshy shadow rolled across the ground, snapping trees like twigs. It moved like a monstrous tire.
"What the hell is that?"
Millicent's sword was out in an instant, but Throne shoved her aside. Something heavy rushed past them.
Clang.
He sidestepped, drawing Rivers of Blood. The blade left a crimson arc in the air, but Throne frowned. It was like striking rubber—slippery, elastic. His blade lost its mark.
No time to think. He tapped the ground with his sword and leaped into the air. A black-and-white fireball crashed where he'd just stood. Boom! Flames scattered, but the chill they left behind cut deeper than any heat. It reminded him of the flames of Destined Death. White, bloated, black-and-white fire…
Throne landed hard, skidding a few meters before coming to a stop. His eyes swept the area. The tire had stopped rolling. From the direction of the black flames, two white figures emerged. He knew them instantly.
Godskin. The nightmare of gods from an ancient era.
Once, under the Gloam-Eyed Queen, they'd slaughtered countless deities before retreating into the shadows. Throne had always been careful to avoid them. He'd steered clear of the Divine Tower, yet here they were, emerging from nowhere. One apostle, two nobles. Did they come for me?
That didn't make sense. He'd been passing through quietly. Why would they target him? The Gloam-Eyed Queen was gone. They were rebels, just like him. No reason to interfere. So why were they here?
Creak.
Trees toppled with a harsh groan.
Throne rose slowly, locking eyes with the figures. They didn't seem capable of communication. These weren't human, but their killing intent was unmistakable. He thought for a moment, then called out, "If I've trespassed, I'll apologize."
Although he didn't know how the Caelid Divine Tower could be considered Godskin territory, Throne was not a mindless brute who just slashed at people; he still offered polite words. Clang. However, the response was the sound of metal scraping. Slender thrusting swords and strangely shaped twin-blade peelers were drawn, and the figures themselves gave off an infinitely eerie feeling.
Two chubby, one tall and thin; the white robes looked like peeled skin, and the fat noble's apron even had seven human faces on it. Being stared at by them invoked an instinctive fear.
Approaching silently with a powerful aura, beings capable of stirring up trouble in the ancient era were certainly not weak, and Throne frowned. 'They want to kill me, but why?' He couldn't figure it out no matter what, and he couldn't understand what his dealing with the dragon had to do with them. In a sense, the Godskin Nobles were despised by everyone.
"Teacher, they are so strong. Are they coming for me?"
Millicent slowly retreated, her intuition issuing a fatal warning. Compared to the stealthy Throne, Millicent was clearly more valuable, but the man shook his head firmly; there was no doubt that this killing intent was directed at him.
"First, I haven't provoked any of you."
He raised his blade, casting aside all his displeasure, frustration, and doubt.
The Godskin's blades were right in front of him; this was not the time to be kind.
"Second, do you really think I'm made of clay!?"
Throne's aura changed abruptly, and a more violent killing intent surged out, just like when Lansseax had inexplicably appeared before him back then. Whatever the reason, you want to kill me? Then pay with your life to try!
Throne never liked causing trouble, especially not making enemies everywhere, so when the Godskins appeared, he thought it was a misunderstanding and tried to explain a few words, but gradually he felt that things were not right. This killing intent was genuine, and it was truly baffling.
"That's not right. I don't think I've ever had contact with them before."
Even as Throne drew his sword, he was still somewhat puzzled, but that soon vanished. Since you want to fight, let me see just how powerful the legendary Godskin are.
"Millicent, step back. This isn't something you can handle."
"Okay."
The girl did not try to be brave; the aura emitted by these three enemies made her very uneasy. In the blink of an eye, Throne beside her was already gone.
Zing—
The long sword grew cold. Throne took a step and charged in front of the Godskin, thrusting his sword. Swish, swish, swish... Blade lights appeared and vanished in an instant. The seemingly chubby Godskin Noble was extremely fast, and even when the blade occasionally struck, it was deflected. This is novel.
Throne had seen sturdy shields and heavy armor, but he had never seen this kind of elastic defense. He had to admit that this thing was extremely effective against sharp weapons. Greasy and slippery; aside from being too ugly, it counted as excellent armor. Trying to play physics with me, are you?
Throne suddenly sheathed his sword, and the storm of attacks stopped instantly, but he used the momentum to roll and slide forward. So what if I cut your legs! Clang! The long, needle-like thrusting sword blocked the horizontal slash and was deflected slightly, which also caused his body to lose some balance. Their strength is weaker than mine.
Throne narrowed his eyes and slapped the ground with his hand, spinning into the air. What was a low horizontal slash just a moment ago was now a heavy strike from the air. But before he could strike down, he had already drawn the long sword Moonveil from his right waist. The retreating Godskin Noble stopped, thrusting its big belly forward as it charged.
Across the battlefield, another Godskin Noble leaped forward, its massive belly thrusting outward like a wrecking ball. Throne crossed his blades before his chest, bracing for impact. The creature slammed into him with a wet pop, its body pressing against his crossed swords like a punctured balloon. The force pinned him in place.
His eyes snapped forward. The tall, wiry Godskin Apostle stretched unnaturally, its blade descending in a deadly arc aimed at cleaving Throne in two. Before the strike could land, a gale erupted, hurling both Godskins backward. Throne wrenched his blades free, landing lightly on his feet. His swords met the enemy's with a sharp clang.
The impact forced Throne's knees to buckle. This one was stronger than the Noble. His concealed blade slashed upward, but the thin figure had already retreated.
"Fast reflexes," Throne muttered. "And their coordination is seamless."
He turned his head just as two balls of black flame hurtled toward him. They exploded with a dull roar, scattering embers that failed to catch fire on the surrounding trees. From the sidelines, Millicent's heart lurched.
"Teach—"
"Why are you calling me?"
Starlight coalesced, and Throne appeared beside her, shaking residual flames from his armor. The fire clung stubbornly, its smoke curling like tendrils of death. Even through his armor, a deep chill seeped into his bones, as though he'd stepped out of a frozen wasteland.
He eyed the black-and-white flames smoldering harmlessly on the fallen leaves.
"Are these meant to burn souls? Death-related powers are always such a headache."
He stretched his arm, shaking off the numbness.
So far, he'd encountered three variations of death flames: Destined Death, these black-and-white flames, and Ghostflame. Destined Death was the most potent, but these flames weren't far behind.
"Millicent, prepare to retreat," Throne ordered without hesitation.
There was no need to engage these Godskins. Drawing too much attention risked alerting the dragon. Greyoll was their primary target. Based on their earlier probes, the dragon and the Godskins weren't allied—otherwise, Greyoll would've descended upon them already.
"Teacher, leaving won't be easy," Millicent said, her gaze fixed on the advancing trio. The Godskins formed a line, closing in from three directions. Turning their backs now would invite pursuit.
She observed them with sharp eyes. Individually, Throne could handle them. But together, their strength multiplied. Their seamless coordination spoke of countless battles fought side by side. Hunters by nature, they specialized in taking down gods and their champions.
Throne tightened his grip on his blades, his focus narrowing on the tall, thin figure.
"He's the fastest. Take him out first."
"Understood."
Millicent's voice was steady. Though they'd never fought together, she adapted quickly. The moment Throne surged forward, she followed, their movements syncing in a blur of motion.
The Godskins paused, their katanas gleaming coldly.
"Dodge!"
Millicent didn't hesitate. She rolled to the side, feeling the rush of wind as a twin-bladed peeler sliced past her. The weapon swung wildly, a horizontal slash grazing her hair. The Godskin Apostle's body stretched unnaturally, launching a heavy overhead strike. The clash of steel rang out—clang!!
The throne materialized, an immovable barrier intercepting the strike. Millicent ducked low, sprinting forward with both hands locked around her hilt. Her blade carved a silver crescent through the air—aimed true at the opponent's weight-bearing leg. Steel met flesh with a shuddering impact, biting several inches into pale calf muscle.
Her moment of triumph lasted half a breath. Fingers like iron bands seized her by the nape. A rush of displaced air—
The thrusting sword screeched against stone, close enough to singe her nostrils. A Godskin Noble landed in a crouch, palm already erupting with seething darkness. Black Flame Ritual. Pillars of fire taller than ancient oaks tore through the battlefield.
Throne clamped Millicent against his side and vaulted skyward. Black flames licked at their heels. His gaze snapped backward instead—tracking the white blur already arcing toward their landing point. The Godskin curled into a living cannonball, hurtling toward them with brutal simplicity.
Impact never came.
Throne released Millicent mid-fall, pivoting his body into a spear-thrust of concentrated wind. Storm Assault. The technique struck like a master's billiard shot—his fist connecting with the Godskin's torso in a shockwave that cracked the air. The white figure recoiled as if struck by a battering ram.
Below, the remaining Godskins froze mid-lunge. Their synchronized assault faltered—just long enough.
Millicent's boots found Throne's shoulder plate as she plummeted. No hesitation. She mirrored his stance perfectly, twin hands tightening on her sword's grip. Falling Slash. Steel shrieked against steel as her katana met the Apostle's peeler blade in a fountain of sparks. The gaunt figure twisted aside at the last instant.
Seeing the girl land with a crash, it raised its foot, and the Godskin Noble beside it also raised its sword. Twin threats converged. Millicent's face stayed blank as fresh marble. Death terrifies the frail—for warriors, it's just another whetstone. She torqued her sword hilt, ignoring the fire in her soles, and launched herself upward again.