Chapter 1242: Tense
High Marshal Dronvet was a man of great discipline. He was well respected by all.
Before becoming a god, he had started as an ordinary foot soldier in the United Army of the world of Surnix Hold.
He had risen through the ranks and grown in power faster than anyone else in the army.
The people revered his tactical mind, his ability to control the battlefield at a pace others struggled to match. But his power was no less respected. His mere presence had the potential to tip the scale of battle.
That was why, when he rose to become the god of Surnix Hold, there were no objections. No one else deserved it more.
His tactical brilliance had already shone from the start of the Virelenna. He had lured the offensive unit of their closest enemy beacon away, and had personally launched an attack on it himself.
Coming here, High Marshal Dronvet had hoped for many things. But the frown on his face showed just how disappointed he currently was.
“It seems luck isn’t on my side today,” the High Marshal said coldly, his stern gaze sweeping across them.
He looked at Ozeroth, then Magnus, then Zenon, before shaking his head.
“I had hoped I would meet that child here. It’s truly unfortunate.”
The tension was high. Magnus and Zenon had already unleashed their aura. Their bodies had transformed, claws extended, muscles bulked, eyes flushed red, as they took on the traits of various races.
But Ozeroth remained unchanged. A grin still played on his face.
High Marshal Dronvet didn’t bother hiding the disdain in his gaze as he looked at the three of them.
“You cannot blame me. I tend to think very little of people who allow a child to rule them,” Dronvet said. “No matter. I will kill you all and show your child god the price of stepping on the wrong foot.”
His gaze narrowed as he suddenly felt the night air grow colder.
The man wreathed in gold tilted his head slightly. His smile had vanished. His gaze had turned glacial. And then, he spoke.
“I will crush your skull and grind your bones for the nonsense that just came out of your mouth,” Ozeroth said, his voice cold as ice.
Dronvet’s face darkened. At this point, there was no need for more words.
He raised his hand, and the mana responded, flooding the air. His arm was just about to move when a figure burst from the haze, landing just behind him.
“High Marshal!”
Dronvet’s eyes narrowed at the sight of his most trusted general. “Korosim. What is it?”
“The child god tricked us! He’s probably at our beacon, fighting the twins as we speak!”
High Marshal Dronvet froze. ’The plan failed?’ He was stunned. He had thought it foolproof. But…
’Looks like I underestimated him a bit.’
He looked at Korosim. The man’s face mirrored his voice, panicked, tense, and cautious. He was clearly shaken.
The High Marshal hadn’t reached this level by ignoring his subordinates. Something had rattled Korosim, and badly.
Dronvet sent a final glare at Ozeroth. “I’ll be back after taking care of that child.”
He didn’t wait for a response. He turned toward Korosim. “We’re leaving.”
“Yes, High Marshal!”
Dronvet reached out for the seal he’d placed at their beacon site. His hand blurred, and in a burst of light, he vanished along with Korosim.
Ozeroth stared at the spot where the High Marshal had stood. After a second, he shook his head.
“I’m never seeing him again, am I?” he said with a heavy sigh.
“No,” Magnus replied, shaking his head.
“He’s a goner,” Zenon chuckled. The High Marshal’s opponent was him. There would be no next time.
…
The people of the outside world were going through varying emotions. The Virelenna had only just begun, barely minutes in, and already, much had happened.
Back in Eldoralth, in the Hall of the Dominion Pillars, the Eldorians watching the scene unfold were shifting in their seats, many of them clenching their fists tight.
Oberon and Jenera sat beside each other. They shared a glance, then turned back to the screen.
“What’s on your mind?” Oberon asked.
Jenera was silent for a moment before replying. “This will be the deciding factor. The thing that determines everything.” Her voice was firm, and many in the hall nodded.
Even Avalon was no exception, his serious gaze locked onto the screen, watching his boy.
Oberon understood what she meant. She didn’t need to explain it.
They had all just witnessed Atticus easily crush one of the twins. They had seen Ozeroth confront the god general. They had watched the subordinate come to warn his superior. And now, they’d watched them vanish.
The god was heading back to his beacon.
A clash of gods was on the way.
And that was exactly what made the room tense. Atticus had defeated the twin easily, but a god was sure to be different.
This would be Atticus’s first battle against another god. The Eldorians could only hope it went well.
This battle… would determine how the rest of the Virelenna would unfold.
…
The tension, however, could be said to be quite lax at the core of Torrevenos. For the Stars, the Virelenna had only just begun. Quiet Flame wore a small smile on his face, while Iron Crown had a visible frown.
For the former, he was pleased. Atticus had seen through the High Marshal’s ploy and countered it lethally.
For the latter, the unfolding events had caught him slightly off guard. He had kept a close eye on Quiet Flame’s god, expecting his downfall to come early in the competition. Instead, he was met with a mild surprise.
Atticus’s prowess and perceptive mind had taken him aback.
But Iron Crown wasn’t worried. He considered High Marshal Dronvet the weakest among his gods, but compared to a god from a ruined star, he still expected the battle to be swift. Quick. One sided. With the High Marshal as the victor.
He threw a subtle glance toward Quiet Flame and caught sight of the small smile still playing on his lips. Iron Crown shook his head.
’It’s futile,’ he thought.
As the screen flashed again, the Stars turned their gazes toward what was now beginning; the first significant battle of the Virelenna.
A battle between gods.
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