Chapter 1372: Torturer
"Is this... how the world looks like?" Camilla suddenly seemed to realize something.
"That's right, if we roll the floor up, it will be a world map." Roland placed the pencil down and said looking down at this toes, his mind wandering off. Who knew if it was a coincidence or not, but in history, Christopher Columbus traveled from the Spanish Port of Palos for 70 days and nights and arrived at the land now called America, thereby rewriting the way we view the world. Joan traveled in a similar fashion, and was the first to discover the general appearance of the world.
Although the two had completely different intentions, their method of discovery were exactly the same—history might not remember Joan's name, but the Exploration Group had turned into a reality because of her 'trip around the world'.
But that was whole point of being an explorer.
To Roland, the most important point was undoubtedly to pinpoint the exact location of the Bottomless Land and Sky-sea Realm.
Especially the former.
Joan's discovery gave him the confirmation that the actualization of the Realm of Mind was not as far out as he had imagined, and it was evidently good news. At the very least, they had a clear parameter and goal in improving the designs for the bombers and 'Fire of Heaven.'
Although the Sky-sea Realm which was situated above the sky was beyond their reach, it was fortunate that they were fighting against the demons. Even if they set off towards the east, they had to land at the west bank of the Land of Dawn, which was still a great distance away from the Fertile Plains.
"That leaves one final question." Nightingale grunted. "Who is the woman Joan encountered on the Shadow Island? There wasn't any traces of human inhabitants there, and if she is someone sent by God, we don't really have a reason to help her, right?"
Roland kept silent for a long while. "I'm afraid that this is the most troublesome issue."
"Why is that?" Camilla did not understand.
"Theoretically, regardless of who wins or loses in the Battle of Divine Will, if the ultimate result is still destruction, then God is our enemy." He spoke with hesitation, "But if the Guardian isn't expressing any hostility and has a completely different concept on good and evil from us, then... they have never ever really thought anything of us at all. Such a relationship is like how we will tend to an injured bird."
The two witches looked at each other simultaneously in shock.
But what came next was a bone chilling intent that shot up from the bottom of their feet.
Both of them knew that if a group of birds stole grains, humans would kill them without hesitation. But no one truly treated birds as enemies, and would even save one or two from the claws of a cat. What came after that was irrelevant to good or evil, but the preference of an individual.
The Battle of Divine Will had gone through multiple cycles and no one knew how many races had walked down the path of destruction. But the continuity of these civilizations would not cause God to hesitate. Even if the lady had saved Joan, it was not an action that represented favoritism towards the humans.
"This... is really scary." Camilla Dary muttered.
"I hope that my theory is wrong." Roland sighed. "But since we need to stop the Battle of Divine Will, I am afraid we can't escape facing God."
"This is the price."
"Stop your foolish act. You don't even know what you're up against!"
"—Everything will be reduced to nothingness, and our endeavor's work over the past thousands of years will be wasted"
"You can't... bear the heavy guilt brought about by such an... horrific atrocity—"
The words rang out in his ears once again, as though a movie was being played back.
After paying the price, the Battle of Divine Will still continues today, how can it be so easily stopped?
Regardless of reality or the Dream World, this battle was inevitable.
...
At the Sedimentation Bay in the Kingdom of Wolfheart.
All of that was left of the residential area once occupied by demons were in ruins. But after the gradual reinforcements of weapons and personnel from the First Army and the catching of enemies unprepared, the demons were forced to retreat out of the city within a month.
The Red Mist storage towers in the plaza had been bombarded by the Longsong Cannons into smithereens—their original plan of commanding the humans to transporting Blackstones mined from the north over and have the inferior demons that did not require the Red Mist to build more towers in other cities was an intimidating sight. But before the realization of the plan, the Red Mist storage towers that were in progress were destroyed by the cannons.
Following human's progressive counterattack, the territory occupied and controlled by the demons decreased at a discernible pace, and signs of restoration were seen. Despite the downfall of the city, the dock became busy once again. Although the demons had destroyed the majority of roads and the pier during their retreat, the engineering team rebuilt up temporary roads within a week.
For those who escaped the Red Mist region through great difficulty, it was undoubtedly good news. But not everyone that escaped south thought that way.
"Damn it, the rumors are true." Looking at the border sentry posts set up by the roads, Negan Murray said spitefully, "Who knew the demons that were meant to deal with Graycastle are so unreliable."
"They are both monsters; it just depends on which side is more ruthless." Talos Murray replied indifferently. Half of his face was hidden under the scarf which barely covered the scars extending across his face like subcutaneous worms. "But since they have lost the support of the nobles, the Wimbledon family will soon lose everything. We don't have to worry about anything." At this point, he turned and looked at the crowd lined up before him and spoke with a trace of ferocity, "It is enough as long as we deal with that guy..."
"That's right." Negan became excited. "Anyone who relies on that fellow from Graycastle is our enemy. We must make them pay."
"But we have to endure for now." Talos grasped Negan's shoulder. "Wait for first light, then think about hunting."
Although the demons never acknowledged their own failure, it was a known fact that the number of monsters around Neverwinter had decreased. Compared to the ignorant citizens, the nobles had their means of obtaining information about the front lines. Knowing that the demons from hell were incapable of fighting Graycastle, panic started to spread among the nobles.
Compared to the nobles with large and powerful enterprises, as a Knight, Talos did not have much of a burden. He was unwilling to work for these ugly aliens or rely on Graycastle which he had a grudge with. Knowing that there was no way out if he stayed in Everwinter, he felt that it was more sensible to move to a neutral land not under the control of Graycastle.
Of course, anyone could hunt the refugees anywhere. He had plenty of time for revenge, or rather... pleasure. Unknowingly, he grew fond of dictating everything. Listening to the refugees begging for forgiveness, tossing and rolling, and howling in grief left him addicted with power.
Every time he immersed himself in the warm blood, the dulling pain from the scars on his face seemed to fade a little, as though the scars were responding to sacrificial offerings.
Since it was impossible to revive the clan, why not enjoy this pleasure?
Nothing else mattered more to him.