The Death Mage Who Doesn’t Want a Fourth Time-Chapter 62Side : The unending worries of the former emperor, the general, and the gods

Marshukzarl von Bellwood Amid, the former emperor of the Amid Empire, was facing a trial. A trial of the likes he had never faced before.

He had been born as a noble; he had never experienced financial poverty in the normal sense of the term, and he had never truly starved. He had lived a blessed life when it came to food, clothing, and shelter.

However, his life had been a continuous series of trials.

In the succession struggle against his siblings to become the emperor, he had gathered allies and made accomplishments to show that he was worthy of becoming emperor while keeping himself protected from attempts to take his life.

After becoming emperor, he had faced further trials – running the empire, and the war against the Orbaume Kingdom, an enemy nation.

With four vassal nations, the Amid Empire was blessed with a strong economy and military, but Marshukzarl had needed to continuously maintain the empire’s rulership over the vassal nations, and the empire’s national treasury wasn’t an inexhaustible supply of funds.

When war, bad weather, and a monster stampede from a Dungeon near a major city occurred simultaneously, he had been forced to almost empty the national treasury entirely to keep everything under control. This had been a harsh trial.

Although there were no records of this in history books, shortly after Marshukzarl was crowned emperor, he had needed to deal with nobles plotting a rebellion and relatives plotting his assassination. If he had made a mistake in dealing with these, his head would have gone flying. These threats had been of a different nature from the secret battles against Vampire organizations that worshiped evil gods, the bargaining with the Storm of Tyranny led by the ‘Thunderclap’ Schneider, power struggles, or factional disputes.

Thus, it could be said that every day had been a trial for Marshukzarl.

Of course, the poor who struggled desperately just to survive every day could also be said to be facing trials every day, and Marshukzarl was aware that he was blessed in various ways compared to them.

But these were separate matters. The emperor and the poor each had their own role to play, and their own trials to overcome. They could not be compared.

The important thing was that Marshukzarl had overcome a variety of trials thus far – though in the end, he had been dethroned by the new pope, Eileek.

But despite all that, what lay before his eyes now was a trial that he did not know if he could overcome.

“Hmph… a grand view,” Marshukzarl muttered to himself.

There was a vast quantity of wood and stone. There was a variety of materials, from ordinary materials that would be used for common residences to high-quality building materials that even nobles would have difficulty in procuring.

There was also a vast quantity of sand and gravel. There were nails and metal fixtures of all sizes, and a wide range of tools.

“With this quantity of materials and this number of tools, I could recreate a fortress or a castle from my kingdom… No, I could even build something on an even larger scale. If I had craftsmen, that is.”

There was a fatal problem – Marshukzarl was the only person available to use all these materials and tools.

Naturally, he was no carpenter or craftsman. During his rule, he had carried out a variety of public projects such as the construction of infrastructure, flood-control structures, fortresses, castles, and buildings for city development. But he had never built any of them himself.

“I am terribly sorry to say this after you’ve gone to the trouble of gathering all of these things for me, but… are you really telling me to build the facility in which I will be imprisoned, all on my own?” Marshukzarl asked, turning around to face the person who had brought him here.

“Yes,” replied Vandalieu, giving the absolute minimum response necessary.

Marshukzarl had been imprisoned at a certain location in the Amid Empire and then freed by Schneider, who had continued to keep him confined until he delivered him to Vandalieu.

Marshukzarl had honestly been looking forward to being handed over to Vandalieu. He was prepared to be killed, but he had expected that he wouldn’t be killed on the spot. So even if he was killed in the end, he was curious if he could see at least a little of what Vandalieu’s sphere of influence was like, as he had been shrouded in mystery up to this point. He had wanted to know what kind of nation was being ruled by a being that Alda and the other gods would take action to oppose.

After being freed and his blindfold removed, he had found himself in a wasteland stretching into the horizon, and this enormous quantity of building materials had been nearby.

There wasn’t another person or even another living creature here other than Vandalieu, who was standing around behind him. Vandalieu had only given a vague explanation: “Please use these materials and tools to build a place that you can live in. If you need anything, please let me know. Depending on what it is, I might be able to provide it for you.”

“… To think that I would be asked to build my own imprisonment facility,” Marshukzarl muttered.

Any ordinary prisoner would consider simply escaping, given that nobody was stopping him from doing so.

But Marshukzarl had no thoughts of escape.

There’s no doubt that he’s considered the possibility that I would try to escape. With that being the case, I’m sure this place is somewhere I can never escape from no matter what I try.

Marshukzarl had some knowledge in combat and magic, which he had learned as a form of leisure. However, he didn’t have a single dagger on him now. And even if he did escape, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t encounter monsters so powerful that the skills that he had learned as a pastime would be helpless against.

To begin with, what is this place… Wait, am I really outside?

When he looked up, he could see clouds that looked like thin wisps of mist, and beyond that was… something resembling a pink, pulsating wall of flesh. If that wasn’t some kind of illusion, then it wasn’t any ordinary sky.

Then this must be the inside of a Dungeon somewhere, or a space that’s been isolated by a Magic Item. There’s no doubt that it will be impossible for me to escape from this place with just a little futile resistance.

He could never have guessed that this place was one of Vandalieu’s Inner Worlds, but he was correct in assuming that he wouldn’t be able to escape from it.

Then I suppose I will give up on breaking out.

He very quickly abandoned the idea of escaping. There was nothing he could do even if he did escape, and taking the imperial throne back would be difficult as long as Alda, the God of Law and Fate, continued his interference.

With that being the case, there was little point in escaping.

“Will I be provided with meals?” Marshukzarl asked.

“Yes. I will provide three prepared meals every day. They will be dishes from my nation, however,” said Vandalieu.

“Hmm. I shall look forward to that. Will you take requests?”

If Marshukzarl was going to be provided meals, there was even less point in making some ill-advised attempt to escape.

“… I shall take requests. I can’t guarantee that I will fulfill them, though,” said Vandalieu.

“I see. Well then, I suppose I should build a place to sleep for the time being,” said Marshukzarl.

His sharp eyes spotted a tent at the corner of the pile rows of building materials, and he began assembling it.

Marshukzarl didn’t have the skills and experience needed to directly build flood control structures, public works, or buildings. But he had some knowledge when it came to planning such structures, and he was capable of using magic to some extent. With that being the case, he would likely be able to build something he could live in, even if it was little better than a shack. There weren’t any monsters around, or even bears or wolves, so it was unlikely that he would need to think about building defenses.

Marshukzarl felt optimistic.

Meanwhile, the Vandalieu of this Inner World was watching Marshukzarl with no emotions in particular.

It isn’t as if I’m particularly interested in him, but I don’t hate him that much. I don’t think I care what happens to him, but given that Schneider left him with me, I can’t abandon him, and I feel like letting my guard down will be dangerous. And based on what I’ve seen, I don’t think I’ll be able to get along with him… Hmm, I’m not sure what to feel about him.

His feelings towards Marshukzarl hadn’t changed since he saw him rolling on the floor after he was kidnapped by Schneider.

But seeing Marshukzarl moving about like this, Vandalieu could vaguely sense that Marshukzarl wasn’t someone he could guide.

Vandalieu felt like guiding Marshukzarl would need him to break his mind with poison and brainwash him, reconstructing his mind into that of essentially a different person.

In other words, I don’t get along with him. It’s not like we’ll always inevitably lock horns with each other, but I feel like he’s the kind of person I should keep an appropriate distance from, Vandalieu thought. If I use the words I said to Alex… If I lend Marshukzarl a hand, he’ll borrow and take advantage of my power, and that’s it. That’s the kind of person he is.

But Vandalieu didn’t mind that. To begin with, it wasn’t as if he wanted to get along with Marshukzarl. In fact, not getting along with him would make it easier to cut him off if he needed to, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him himself.

“Ah, come to think of it, I forgot to provide cutlery and daily necessities,” Vandalieu realized.

Schneider had provided Marshukzarl’s clothes when handing him over to Vandalieu, but Vandalieu realized that he had forgotten the daily necessities that Marshukzarl would need, so he quickly began creating cutlery with the ‘Golem Creation’ Skill.

Sin is in people’s nature, and crimes happen everywhere. The Demon Empire of Vidal was no exception.

A group of people concealing their faces with masks weaved their way around the blind spots of the Golems that served as surveillance cameras, and gathered in a certain warehouse in Talosheim’s suburbs.

“Now then, show us the goods you’ve gathered,” one of them said.

“Don’t be so hasty. If someone finds out about this meeting, we’ll be back to square one,” said a man who was holding a bag.

“Yes. First… let’s make an offering to buy the spirits’ silence,” said another person.

These people of all kinds of races, who were wearing masks covering their faces, put together a simple altar and lit incense on top of it along with offerings of snacks and alcohol. They bowed solemnly, and each of them recited a prayer to the gods or a verse from the scriptures.

This served as a bribe for the spirits floating around them, ensuring their silence.

There was also the option to put up a barrier to completely prevent spirits from entering or leaving, but in Talosheim, this would be even more conspicuous and have the opposite of the desired effect, drawing attention to the shady activities taking place within. Golems wouldn’t take notice, but the Undead that maintained public order could faintly sense such barriers, so putting such barriers up was equivalent to shouting out loud that one was doing something that they didn’t want to be seen by spirits.

Thus, it had become common practice to peacefully bribe the spirits into silence.

“We’re fine now, right? Hurry up and show the goods!” one of the people said impatiently.

“It’s been three days for me! I can’t bear it anymore!” said a woman.

“Alright. These are the goods I’ve got on me right now,” the man with the bag said finally, opening his bag and showing its contents.

Inside were bags packed full of drugs… or rather, glass bottles filled with a red-black liquid, black rod-shaped objects, tied bundles of hair, and small porcelain vases.

“Oh! These are Vandalieu-sama’s blood, bones, hair and fur! And these vases contain…!” one of the people whispered.

“There’s even fat and eyeballs! Ah, this is unbelievable…! How did you get your hands on things like this?!” another asked.

“I have my own smuggling routes,” said the man with the bag.

This was not a drug dealer and his clients. It was a dealer selling parts of Vandalieu to Vandalieu addicts.

It was common knowledge in the Demon Empire of Vidal that the ingredients used in Blood Potion and V Cream included Vandalieu’s blood, horns, and fat. And the devoted chosen (or so some believed) could ascend (or so some called it, though it was actually mutation) to become higher beings.

Thus, some felt an excessive desire for products made from Vandalieu, such as Blood Potion, V Cream, and V Soap. And it had finally reached a point where they desired to directly consume the raw materials rather than the processed products.

This was the emergence of the Vandalieu extremist faction. As for what their extremism was for – it was for Vandalieu, and that was why they were called the extremist faction.

They didn’t carry out any extremist protests or acts of terrorism, but they frequently made deals like this in secret in order to illegally acquire unprocessed parts of Vandalieu, an act that was forbidden by law in the Demon Empire of Vidal.

“But with that said, I haven’t done anything particularly special. I snatched these from Demon King Familiars that ran out of Mana,” the dealer said.

“From Demon King Familiars?” one of the addicts repeated. “But you’d have to be there the moment the Demon King Familiars stop functioning…”

Demon King Familiars – split entities of Vandalieu – worked throughout the Demon Empire of Vidal in all sorts of fields. When they ran out of Mana, they would stop functioning and become motionless. But because Vandalieu’s Mana was so vast, many Demon King Familiars were capable of staying active for years.

And there was no way of telling how long a Demon King Familiar had left before it would run out of Mana just from looking at it. When they stopped functioning, they had to quickly be retrieved and have the appropriate measures carried on them; if this wasn’t done, they would crumble to dust.

Thus, acquiring materials from Demon King Familiars that had stopped functioning was very difficult without a great deal of luck.

It was difficult to believe that this dealer had gathered this quantity of products through such a method.

“I have connections with explorers, you see. I have them secretly bring home materials taken from Demon King Familiars that stop functioning after spending their Mana in battle inside Dungeons,” the dealer said. “More importantly, are you buying? If you aren’t, I’ll just have to look for other clients.”

“If you’re not buying, get out of the way!” a female addict shouted impatiently. “I want to take my pick!”

“W-wait! I didn’t say I’m not buying!” protested the one who had been asking the dealer questions.

There were some who were more cautious, but those who were addicts had little ability to reason. They pushed against each other and reached out for the dealer’s bag, trying to get their hands on as many materials as they could.

And once the Vandalieu addicts had all acquired some materials, the dealer suddenly raised his hand.

“All of you have laid hands on the materials, right? We’re done,” he said, giving a signal.

The closed door of the warehouse was broken down, and a group of people wearing black armor and capes rushed inside.

“This is the Dark Night Knights’ Order!” one of them declared. “All of you, surrender and come quietly!”

“The knights’ order?! Why are they here?! Who ratted us out?!” one of the addicts shouted.

“You! You’re working for them?!” another shouted, pointing at the dealer.

The dealer’s face slid ominously. His back split open and the Demon within showed its true form, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

“Indeed. I was wearing a literal skin of disguise,” the Demon said.

“An undercover investigation…!” one of the male addicts groaned, his face twisted in frustration.

But instead of obediently putting down the materials he had purchased… he quickly shoved them into his mouth.

“We told you to surrender and come quietly!” one of the knights shouted.

“You never told us to put down the materials!” one of the addicts shouted back.

“If you’re going to take them from us, I’m gonna have one last bite!” exclaimed another. “Ah, I can’t get enough of thiiiis!”

One addict was gulping down blood from a bottle, and another buried his nose in the hair and inhaled deeply. One was rubbing fat on his scales, and another swallowed an eyeball whole. The members of the Dark Night Knights’ Order moved to restrain the addicts, and the Demon laughed in amusement as he watched.

Some of the addicts were trying to escape, but…

“Whoops. This road is closed,” said the Titan Zombie Ninja Zran, who had been watching over the back entrance, blocking their way and arresting them.

“Now get walking! Those of you who surrendered peacefully, you’ll be doing three months of community service and writing a written apology!” one of the knights told the addicts.

“It’ll be nine months for those of you who resisted! And all of you will be going to counseling!” said another.

“It goes without saying, but you’ll be going without Vandalieu-sama for that duration!” said a third knight.

The addicts screamed in despair.

“Y-you can’t do this! Please, anything but that!”

“Noooo! I can’t bear to go months without Vandalieu-sama!”

The Vampires and Vampire Zombies of the Dark Night Knights’ Order led the addicts away, and the undercover investigation ended with successful arrests.

Chezare, the general and prime minister of the Demon Empire of Vidal, was perplexed as he read the reports in his office.

“How can we solve the Vandalieu addiction problem?” he wondered. “What do you think, Kurt?”

“… We can just ignore it, can’t we? It’s only treated as a misdemeanor, after all,” said Kurt, Chezare’s younger brother who served as the vice-general, with a wry smile. “Unlike drug addiction, it doesn’t lead to other crimes, and the people who get addicted are relatively normal other than their behavior regarding His Majesty… and they can be cured from their condition in as quickly as just a few months. They’re like delinquent kids. It might be better not to do anything excessive to suppress them.”

Kurt’s opinion of Vandalieu addicts was shared by the majority of the population of the Demon Empire of Vidal. The addicts hadn’t dirtied their hands with other crimes yet, and they didn’t have frequent troubles in social interactions with others. They did spend excessive sums of money buying up things like Blood Potions, but… processed goods made from parts of Vandalieu couldn’t be acquired through regular trading, even within the Demon Empire of Vidal, so there wasn’t a large enough supply for their addictions to drive them into financial hardships.

If the dealers had made deals with black-market loan sharks that provided loans with high interest rates, then it might have been a different story, but… it was prohibited for anyone other than the government’s public institutions to provide such financial services.

Thus, many believed it would be best to continue managing the problem the way they were currently being managed rather than cracking down on it with heavy-handed measures.

“If you insist on solving the problem, then I suppose we could sell His Majesty’s blood at affordable prices, or even simply provide every citizen with a Demon King Familiar?” Kurt suggested.

“Kurt, I’m sure you’re as aware as I am that these proposals of yours have little hope of solving the issue,” said Chezare.

A sufficient intake of materials taken from Vandalieu… would not cure Vandalieu addicts.

No matter how much Vandalieu-derived materials these addicts consumed, they would never be satisfied. They would continue to desire more and more. It was a true addiction.

Even if Kurt’s suggestions were implemented and an abundant supply of Vandalieu’s blood was sold with no restrictions, or Demon King Familiars were provided to all citizens, the addicts would remain addicts – this was the conclusion that had been reached by research institutions.

“Well, yes. And other than Undead and monsters, most addicts are humans, Elves, or Dwarves. The next most common category is Vida’s races without Ranks, like Beast-kin and Titans – except for mutated races, such as Dark Humans, Dark Beast-kin, Dvergr, and Chaos Elves… isn’t the problem unsolvable unless the entire population of the Demon Empire is turned into Undead or mutated?” said Kurt.

“Turning them into Undead is impossible. His Majesty would never allow it,” said Chezare.

Vandalieu addicts were citizens who adored Vandalieu, the ruler of the Demon Empire of Vidal. Whenever they were mentioned to Vandalieu, he would exhibit even more remarkably bizarre behavior than usual – such as staring into the distance, calling for muscular people to be brought to the meeting room so that he could soothe his mind, having people or creatures with fluffy fur come out of his Inner Worlds to comfort him, or transforming himself into something fluffy.

“Then shall we have them mutated?” said Kurt.

“Unfortunately, I believe that will be difficult,” said a third person as he entered Chezare’s office.

This man was Cuoco Ragdew… a former baron of the Amid Empire, and a dandy man who was known for being a gourmand.

“… That was quite a long lunch break,” Chezare remarked.

“Indeed. I was having a little taste of His Majesty’s handmade cooking… All of the harmful components were removed, but I was told to have some rest before going back to work, just in case,” Cuoco said.

“Is that so? Ah, come to think of it, His Majesty did send word that he would be borrowing you until the afternoon. If it’s His Majesty’s orders, then I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“Yes, and while I was at it, I stopped by Luciliano’s laboratory and collected a summarized report of this research. Have a look.”

Chezare took the report from Cuoco and read through it, then let out a short groan of displeasure. Kurt read it next, and he groaned as well.

“The mutation experiments… The criminals that were captured alive in Orbaume were given nothing but His Majesty’s blood for more than ten days, but no mutation was seen. Feeding arrested addicts nothing other than food prepared from materials derived from His Majesty for over a month straight had the same result,” Kurt muttered. “I can see why the criminals didn’t mutate, but why wasn’t mutation seen in the addicts?”

Mutation into races such as Dark Humans and Dvergr was triggered by the intake of materials such as Vandalieu’s blood, but being under Vandalieu’s guidance first was a necessary condition as well.

Thus, no matter how much of Vandalieu’s blood was fed to those who weren’t guided, they would not mutate. Blood Potion and V Cream would have no effect, either.

But Vandalieu addicts were all already under Vandalieu’s guidance. It was strange that they didn’t mutate.

“Luciliano’s hypothesis is that the problem is in the state of their minds. In other words, the addicts have a physical craving for materials derived from His Majesty, rather than the addiction being a sign of worship, love, and respect of His Majesty himself,” Cuoco said.

“Their minds… a difficult field to work with, given that minds cannot be visibly seen – though spirits are plainly visible,” said Chezare.

“Ani-ue, they are only visible to Undead,” said Kurt. “It would be easy if we had experts, but Nuaza seems to be busy with planning his next project after the enormous statue – the great church disguised as a theme park to attract tourists. Jeena is currently clearing a Dungeon with Borkus and the others, and intends to meet up with His Majesty afterwards.”

“Are those two really experts of the mind?” Cuoco asked.

“Both of them are supposed to be religious figures, after all,” said Kurt.

“His Majesty may also be an expert of the mind, though I feel that he is an expert in a different sense… In any case, let us put our effort into proper training for the staff that will carry out the addicts’ counseling,” said Chezare.

Many Vandalieu addicts recovered suddenly from their addiction symptoms after some time passed. They would then shut their memories from when they were addicted into a corner of their minds and go about their lives, pretending their addiction never happened.

Dr. Hoover would later be transferred from the Hospital of Psychotherapy, causing a dramatic improvement in the treatment of Vandalieu addicts.

Meanwhile, the gods were worrying over their own problems, just as Chezare worried over the problem of Vandalieu addicts.

These gods who were discussing their worries were not gods of Alda’s faction… but the gods of Vida’s faction who had bizarre forms, having originated in other worlds.

“Just what are we supposed to do… At this rate, there will be no reason for us to exist, will there?”

“That shouldn’t be the case. The divine protections we grant are having the intended effects, aren’t they?”

“But compared to that god…”

“It’s true that we are being forgotten, but… that is only if we compare ourselves to others. They say, ‘your neighbor’s wife always looks like a beauty,’ don’t they?”

“Don’t you mean, ‘the grass is greener on the other side?’ Not that I can understand being jealous of someone else’s grass being greener.”

Naturally, the topic of their discussion was Vandalieu.

“But we reached the conclusion that he would not be able to gain any more brides within a short period of time, did we not? He will be looking to make more friends for a while,” one of the gods said.

“But he gained a new one in the Orbaume Kingdom, didn’t he?” another pointed out. “And Lioen, you Elder Dragons must be pleased, with Tiamat-sama’s excellent move to form a blood tie to your race.”

“Garess, Yuuma has a strong presence, especially with the care that she received from the Kijin and Majin ancestors during her study abroad. I am jealous,” said a third.

The Crystal-horned Dragon God Lioen, guardian deity of the Drakonid nation, and the God of Warriors Garess, guardian deity of the Kijin nation, groaned quietly.

“But perhaps I should send Sylvari a Divine Message to send one of his daughters to be his bride as well?” said a god named Trepamit, guardian deity of the Centaur nation.

He was one of the surviving children of the Horse Beast-King, who was sealed away by Alda. He was a fusion of a child of the Horse Beast-King and the Evil God of Giant Eyes, and he was temporarily calling himself the ‘Horse Beast Evil Eye King.’

“But would Vandalieu not dislike such actions? It’s a matter of how he feels, after all,” said the Evil God of Illusory Skies Magugyazerei, guardian deity of the Harpy nation, opposing the idea.

The nations protected by Trepamit and Magugyazerei were ruled by a king and a queen respectively, and the two were married to each other, so the two gods had become particularly friendly with each other in recent years.

“I suppose I shall put all my hopes on Tiamat-sama. I mean, Tiamat-sama’s lower body is similar to a Lamia’s. And Fidirg is sort of like a snake, too,” said Bogoalbozo, the Evil Snake God of Degenerate Enticement.

He had come into existence when an evil god defeated and absorbed the Snake Beast-King a hundred thousand years ago, only to have half of his own body taken over.

But Lioen and the other Elder Dragons were greatly shaken by his despair.

“Don’t be so careless, Evil Snake God of Degenerate Enticement. You are only looking at Tiamat-dono’s tail, but she also has legs. And is it not pitiful to put your hopes on Fidirg?” said Lioen.

“So you say, but Fidirg and Zozogante have clearly succeeded, haven’t they?” Bogoalbozo said.

“Well, I suppose,” Lioen agreed reluctantly. “And it seems that Povaz, Zozaseiba and the others beneath the Demon King’s Continent are meeting him relatively often for Leveling and purification work…”

“Maybe I should simply offer Tanato as a bride. When Vandalieu met her previously, he praised her posture… or rather, her abdominal muscles and the luster of her scales.”

“He may have complimented her abdominal muscles, but I am sure he didn’t compliment the luster of her scales in that way – Even Vandalieu wouldn’t do that.”

“More importantly, that queen is quite old, isn’t she? Her daughters number in the double digits already.”

“But don’t you think Vandalieu tends to prefer older women?”

“Indeed, it does seem that way.”

“Perhaps it merely appears that way because Vandalieu himself is young? And Legion and Pauvina are younger than he is, if you don’t take into account their lives before they were reincarnated.”

“Come to think of it, what happened to Tristan? None of Vandalieu’s brides or close friends are from his Mermaid nation, so why isn’t he here?”

“Ever since Peria-sama was resurrected, he has been devoting all of his time to her.”

“Then what about the newcomer, the Goddess of Rain Clouds Bashas?”

“She’s engrossed in watching Vandalieu. Rather than having one of the mortals under her protection become his bride, she might volunteer to be a bride herself.”

“… Come to think of it, I heard that she is making a vessel, but…”

“… Perhaps I should create my own vessel?”

“Don’t, Bogoalbozo. You’re a male god, aren’t you?”

“The gender of gods can change to suit their needs. And strictly speaking, I am not a male god. I only became a male god because it was necessary for my tryst with Vida-sama. And Gufadgarn, the one who is always behind Vandalieu even now, isn’t a goddess, either.”

Although Bogoalbozo had had a tryst with Vida, he wasn’t the father of the Lamia race. The father of the Lamia race was Jubadi, the Evil God of Venom and Scales.

“Now that you mention it…”

“There’s nothing to be hasty about. Vandalieu will continue to exist for thousands of years to come. Let us take things slowly.”

These gods were past redemption in different ways from the gods of Alda’s forces, and their discussion continued for a while longer.