Bro, I'm not an Undead!-Chapter 566 Ever-Crashing Tides

The giant sat down next to a man with havana brown hair, releasing a harsh sigh of relief as he did. What he had gone through was still fresh in his mind. If he had been a second later, even he who was the most prodigious among all of his race would have been dealt quite a troublesome hand.

Trying to resolve the issue afterwards was probably impossible.

The two men of different sizes overlooked a river that extended for miles, passing by terrifying, extraordinary heights a�" mountains, hills as well as trees.

Near and far from these heights, vast cities could be seen, the scales of their infrastructure built with such exaggerated proportions that a normal human would be spooked, a cultured human impressed and a powerful human terrified.

Yet even with the sizes of the buildings and walls, the vast, surrounding landscape and its features beat the cities in terms of visual beauty and grandiosity.

They were simply marvellous to behold, a product of being kept well.

"I feel like I ask this a bit too much but where had you gone this time? And what was that dreadful presence? If I didn't know any better I'd think it was-"

"Undead," Sause said, cutting off Benzard who sat at his side, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"That's an understatement. There's more to it, isn't there? I could swear that presence exceeds that of nearly everything I've encountered so far," Benzard said before airing his true theory. "Was it coming from you?"

"Ahaha, come now. Let's not fuss over it, shall we? It was merely an Arch-Lich practising its treachery. Albeit an Arch-Lich that transcended beyond the limits of normalcy but no harm done, ahaha," Sause said with a chuckle. "Crafty one though. Almost took a piece of my soul."

Benzard gaze pierced Sause like a pin.

Merely, huh?

This giant bastard was the one who usually stressed that undead of that level were quite dangerous.

In another world he would probably be singing praises above and declaring how lucky he was that the Scaled Elder was present always, his overwhelming power sufficient to guard Edagon and its inhabitants.

"When are you and the Elder going to act on what I told you? I passed on the information just as Eobald said. The undead have an elaborate plan for this world. It has humans pulling the strings for something horrific. Why not stop it?" Benzard asked Sause with a bitter visage.

It was a few days when Sause had taken him to see the Scaled Elder for the first time and even while smitten with awe, Benzard had told the exalted being what his old friend Eobald had told him.

Yet...

The giant laughed while rubbing his chest as if to subdue the pain ringing from an old wound.

"The Elder can't stop it, Benzard."

The brown haired man frowned.

"You're lying," he said.

"I'm not, ahaha," Sause defended himself with another laugh leaving his mouth. "If that were the case, many tragedies would have been avoided but that simply cannot be done." 𝒇𝚛e𝘦wℯ𝑏𝓃𝑜νℯ𝒍.co𝗺

"The reasoning?"

"The reasoning? Hmmm. The Elder is the last of beings with the natural ability to rule concepts with merely their breath even before they fully mature. His reasoning is 'for the greater good'. If he chooses not to act, it's to prevent an even worse eventuality. If you doubt that..." Sause said as he picked up a rock and threw it across the river, watching it bounce over the surface of it for hundreds of meters before it finally sank.

"...then you might as well head to Feinheath and stop the coming chaos yourself."

***

Genhuis City.

Within one of the lean, tall towers sprinkled around the city, a man in a uniquely distinct armour that had the symbol of a three point star on its chestplate sat down opposite a very old woman.

The room the two were currently in was rather old and decrepit but both were not bothered by it in the slightest.

In fact, this was how the room was supposed to look.

"The Purity would be in your debt if you grant us this favour. Surely the murder of a Grand Priest warrants your contribution, however little it may be?" the Paladin Champion Ruhrees said while leaning forward as if that would increase his chances of successfully persuading this old woman.

It could be seen in his eyes that he was trying very hard to keep his very annoyed and furious mood under wraps. When it came to negotiation, both of these did not garner any positives from the opposite party.

The old woman he sat with licked her lips, the short-lived sequence showing through a small gap between her lips the absence of several teeth. This was astonishing for someone of her level. It spoke volumes about how much older she was than any of old geezers in the other six towers.

She was different.

Ruhrees could feel an invisible thread growing tighter and tighter as even though unseen, the tension rose quickly along with it.

The old woman whose eyes were barely open hunched into the large cloak she wore a bit more.

"I have no interest in what the Purity can offer. None of you have anything I want. Hmph. The death of a Grand Priest? There are more pressing events going on within this city, in this world, hidden from your open eyes and dull noses. Even the city's dog cannot see them," she said with condescending grunt.

"I understand, however this still remains a matter of utmost importance to me and the Purity. You would understand if you were in my position. We do not need much from you. With your specialised skill--"

"Hahahahahaha! Specialised? Say it once more! Let me hear it! Therein lies my answer! I am far too old and specialised to meddle in pitiable cases such as the death of a young Priest! Furthermore, you dared to interrupt my rest. The night is particularly good for sleep, boy!"

Ruhrees face hardened.

This was hopeless.

The Diviners of Genhuis City were hard to crack.

What made them so annoying to deal with was their background.

Even the Royal Family would not intrude on matters having to do with them in this region.

This old woman was said to be among the first of an ancient group of Diviners that called themselves the Seers' Height, a clan of sorts that was formed several centuries ago. They had special traditional means of Divination that grew to be renown within Pelian, their special traits sought after by many.

Years ago, when the Royal Family advocated for the building of more great cities, they made a deal with the Diviners of the Seers' Height who had settled in this region for a long time.

'Seven of you shall remain here. Everything you desire shall be provided. No tasks are to be forced onto you and your whims are yours to appeal to freely. However, should the city have dire need of aid, give it without complaint.'

These were the agreed upon terms.

The other Diviners of the Seers' Height who were willing were also moved to the other great cities where they operated in a similar way.

Their whims were theirs to appeal to and no one could force them into doing anything.

When dealing with people like this...

"Can I provide anything to allow you to meddle then?" Ruhrees asked.

"Oh. I would say you are a smart one but seeing as it took you decades to figure out how to speak the right way, I can only label you a fool. Your faction truly is only full of the entitled," the old woman said as she reached into her cloak and pulled out a root that she began to suck on.

"Nothing you can produce would interests me. Your collection is tiringly boring. Still, perhaps I can feed you crumbs for the sake of peace. Small but potentially useful crumbs."

***

Harifrast Town.

"Hmmm. It changed again," a man leisurely laying on a bed half naked said as he sniffed excessively, as if to catch an accurate whiff of the cold air in his room.

His long hair slid off his back smoothly, brushing it seductively.

He had been silent for a full fifteen minutes as there was a constant change in the scent he had been following for the past week.

Following was an overstatement. For this man who enjoyed travelling and taking detours in order to fully enjoy the feeling of having flesh, taking his time was everything. He had gotten himself side-tracked in this beautiful town and all its frosty sights.

"Maybe I've been procrastinating a bit too much of late," the man said as he sipped on a hot beverage and sat up.

He sniffed once more and recounted to himself the changes he had smelt over the past dozen and some minutes.

First, the stench he had been following a�" leisurely as his pace may be a�" had suddenly been overcome by a thicker stench that had made him grimace for a full ten minutes.

It was strange.

Especially strange.

Then, in another twist of events, from a vast range detached from the main scent he had been tracking, three other scents with a similar rough odour had appeared miraculously.

He could still smell them even now.

'Now which one do I follow? Is a Lich seeding little by little in this world?' the man asked himself.

After a bit of deliberation, he rose hurriedly, grabbed the sword sheath he usually carried and donned his shirt which had a texture like that of mithril.

He was about to leave the room when he heard the strumming of a lute on his bed.

It was soothing.

It was calming.

It stripped away all urgency.

This long haired man who had been about to leave his temporary lodging turned to find exactly who he expected after hearing the thrumming of a musical instrument.

It was him.

The mysterious bard.

"That's some impeccable timing you have. I was just about to leave," the man said as he clutched the strap of his sheath slung over his shoulder tighter.

This was no coincidence.

"I know very well, what you wish to do~

Yet mine words I tell, they fall to you~

Sit with me a little longer, for I wish to dine~

Sad soul I beg, there's so much time."

The man with the flowing hair hardened his visage.

Of course.

This truly was no coincidence.

Something was cooking.