Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 296: Do you see now?

"I’m asking you something..." Elder Thaloren turned to Orykas, his voice calm but heavy. "Do you have any idea how many clans make up our Abyssan Naga?"

"...No," Naga Swordmaster Orykas replied, shaking his head.

"Close to three hundred," Thaloren said, his tone suddenly firm and weighty.

"Th-three hundred?!"

Orykas’s jaw dropped. His eyes went wide in disbelief—he was clearly stunned.

As a member of the Abyssan Naga—hell, as one of their clan leaders—he knew better than anyone that for a group to even be recognized as a proper clan within the Abyssan Naga, it had to have at least one orange-tier Legendary hero. That was the bare minimum.

Which meant...

If there were nearly three hundred clans...

Then didn’t that mean the Abyssan Naga had at least three to four hundred orange-tier Legendary heroes?!

"Yeah. Close to three hundred. To be exact, two hundred and eighty-seven clans," Thaloren continued, his voice low but steady. "And among them, we’ve got over five hundred orange-tier Legendary heroes. But Orykas... do you know how many Crimson Ultimate heroes we have?"

He looked straight at Orykas, his expression complicated, his voice slowing.

"We don’t have a single one."

The moment those words landed, Orykas visibly flinched—like someone had ripped the air from his lungs. His whole body trembled.

It felt like his heart had been drained dry in an instant.

His face went pale. His thoughts tangled into a storm of frustration and disbelief.

He wanted to say something—anything.

Something like, Does it really matter that much?

We’ve got nearly five hundred orange-tier Legendary heroes! Isn’t that enough?!

But even as the words burned on the tip of his tongue, he couldn’t bring himself to say them. No matter how bitter or unwilling he felt, deep down, he knew the truth.

Crimson Ultimate heroes...

They really were that important.

So what if orange-tier Legendary heroes were powerful?

No matter how strong they were, they were still just mortals.

But Crimson Ultimate heroes? They were called demigods for a reason. Their power was on par with actual deities.

How could a mortal ever compare to a god?

Sure, maybe—maybe—there were a few rare individuals who could pull it off. But the Abyssan Naga didn’t have anyone like that.

Not even one.

So no matter how much it stung, all he could do was stay silent.

"And the bigger the tree, the deeper the roots—and the harder it is to move," Elder Thaloren said at last, letting out a long, weary sigh.

"We’re one of the Signature 12-Tier Units of the Tidesworn faction," Elder Thaloren said, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "That makes us a target—not just for envy, but for elimination. And the worst part? We’ve got nowhere to run. We’re stuck here. But Emerald Castle? They’re in a completely different position..."

He looked at Orykas, his expression heavy.

"Orykas, you see it too, don’t you?"

"Emerald Castle is a new power. Valkarion’s a fresh-faced lord, not tied to any major faction or overlord. He’s his own boss. And that means—he can afford to lose. He’s got options."

"Even if we wiped out his entire army—even if we killed every last one of them—what would it change? Those three Crimson Ultimate heroes backing him... they’re his real strength. They’re the reason he can take risks."

"As long as those three are still alive, and still willing to follow him... hell, even if only one of them sticks around, he can bounce back anytime. But us? We don’t have a single Crimson Ultimate hero. Not one. We don’t have the foundation to compete with that."

"If we really go all in today and kill him, what happens when he comes back stronger? When he returns with a vengeance, backed by a true Crimson Ultimate hero? Who’s gonna stop that? Who’s gonna stand against that kind of power?!"

Thaloren’s voice was firm, but there was a deep weariness behind it as he stared at Orykas.

"But... but Elder Thaloren," Orykas stammered, clearly shaken, "we’re the Signature 12-Tier Unit of the Tidesworn faction! If he dares come after us, the higher-ups—those big shots—they won’t just sit back and let it happen, right? That’s impossible!"

"The higher-ups?" Thaloren let out a cold laugh, full of scorn. "Orykas... you’re still so damn naïve. Have you already forgotten about Sea King Maelthorak?"

Maelthorak...

The name alone hit like a thunderclap. Orykas’s face went ghost-white in an instant. His body trembled.

"Our Abyssan Naga didn’t earn our place among the Tidesworn’s Signature 12-Tier Units because of seniority. And we didn’t get here by pledging loyalty to some Overlord. We’re here because we’re still useful. Because, right now, we’re strong."

"But what happens when we’re not?"

"Look at Sea King Maelthorak. Back in his prime, he was the Sea King—undisputed. And now? He’s just a broken relic, barely clinging to life. A wounded beast waiting to be hunted."

"If we, the Abyssan Naga, ever end up like him—crippled, our strength shattered—what do you think will happen to us? We’ll end up just like Maelthorak."

"Or worse. Much worse. That’s the brutal truth."

"When we become the prey, the other 12-Tier Units will become the hunters. And when they tear us apart and absorb our strength, they’ll only grow stronger. And for the Tidesworn faction? That’s a win. No downside."

"And a fully matured Crimson Ultimate hero? They’ve got every right—and more than enough power—to wipe us out. Because in this world, no orange-tier Legendary hero has ever survived the blade of a true Crimson Ultimate."

"As for whether they’d dare? How they’d do it?" Thaloren gave a cold chuckle. "Orykas, do you still not understand what the real purpose of these faction wars is? You really think it’s just about territory and battles?"

He stared at Orykas, his face cold, his eyes filled with resignation.

"F-faction wars?" Orykas blinked, stunned. "Isn’t... isn’t that what they are? Just wars?"

"Sigh..."

Seeing that Orykas still didn’t get it, Elder Thaloren let out a long sigh and began to explain slowly, his voice heavy with patience.

"Orykas, whether it’s the main world or any of the other realms, faction powers are everywhere. They’re woven into the fabric of every world. But aside from the Dark Alliance, most of the others—especially the Light Alliance and the major neutral factions—try to keep things in check. They avoid unnecessary conflict. Because technically speaking, we’re all supposed to be allies."

He paused, then his tone hardened.

"But!"

"If you want to grow—if you want to expand—then conflict is inevitable. Friction, tension, even outright war. And with that comes hatred, death... destruction. Over time, all that negativity builds up. And it’s not just us neutral factions. Even within the Light Alliance itself, those emotions start to fester."

"Orykas, do you see now? One of the real purposes behind these faction wars—it’s not just about land or power. It’s a pressure valve. A way to release all that pent-up hatred and resentment. A sanctioned outlet for violence."

"So when the time comes—when a faction war breaks out—and if someone decides to come after us? The higher-ups won’t lift a finger to stop it."

"Because by then, we’ll be labeled as the ’instigators.’ They’ll say we brought it on ourselves. And if we get wiped out? That’s just the price of playing the game."

Orykas stood there, stunned, silent for a long time.

He clearly hadn’t expected this. That one of the core reasons behind faction wars was... this.

But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Painfully so. It was harsh, but it was logical. And in the end, it was unavoidable.

The Light Alliance was called the Light Alliance because they prided themselves on restraint, on following their conscience.

But negative emotions? That’s just part of being alive.

You can’t destroy them. You can’t erase them.

And if those emotions were never released—if they just kept building up inside the members of the Light Alliance—then eventually, they’d explode. And when they did, they’d take everything down with them.

So in the end, faction wars weren’t just inevitable—they were necessary.

And that meant, if the Abyssan Naga ever ended up on the wrong side of one... if someone waited until the next faction war to strike... they’d be doomed. No one would come to save them.

Realizing this, Orykas shuddered. His voice trembled with guilt.

"...Elder Thaloren, I’m sorry. I was foolish."

Thaloren just shook his head. He didn’t say anything more.

Orykas hesitated for a moment, then clenched his jaw and asked, "Elder Thaloren... there’s still something I don’t understand."

"Go on," Thaloren said quietly.

"If we really have no choice but to back down... then fine. I get it. But if that’s the case, why did you say all that to him? Why warn him?" Orykas asked, confused. "Even if we’re surrendering, isn’t it better to keep quiet? Why give him a heads-up?"