Chapter 296: In the Shadow of the Baustan Sanctuary
Aldin immediately replied, "You are correct."
Aldin looked at Bifnen and the twenty old gods under Bifnen's command. They were uninterested in the battle against Avartin. Their focus was on what to do after Avartin was completely conquered.
Aldin listened to their chatter. One of them spoke of sewing all existing species together alive, having failed in the past but confident of success this time.
Another talked about putting each species in separate enclosures to observe their reactions, comparing it with past records.
Another planned to infiltrate among them, imitating and learning the emotions of mortals.
One expressed the desire to manipulate the destinies of mortals, creating real-time grand theatrics. They considered themself an artist and always received good responses from other old gods.
Another discussed cooking dishes using various species, known for their delicate palate.
Another intended to engage in love affairs with mortals, easily falling in love and keeping the results as long-term trophies.
Another simply wanted to gather mortals and inflict pain, being from the pain discipline, believing it to be the essence of life.
Aldin cursed every moment that she belonged to the same kind as these beings.
"Move, Aldin. You must atone."
"Of course."
The sinner Aldin crawled backward until she was out of sight of the old gods. Aldin had committed a sin long ago and still had not fully paid for it. Therefore, she remained as an old god or, more accurately, in the lowest position among them. She succumbed as a slave, knowing she couldn’t survive without showing them a satisfying level of humiliation.
After a long crawl, Aldin turned around. She stood at the far end of her Sky Castle, looking down at Avartin. Aldin thought the Pantheon was incompetent. The system controlled by the old gods was perfect.
'Nebula, I know you have your plans.'
The Empire was up to something. Modern weaponry could certainly match the weapons stockpiled by the old gods. Aldin would use such weapons, and at first, victory could seem plausible.
'But it's just a play. A performance to satisfy the old gods.'
The true power of an old god lied in the system. The world was already orchestrated in that way. There were places for gods, no way to oppose the deity, and the ultimate control of this system lied with Bifnen. Aldin only borrowed as much authority from it as needed. Even Aldin didn’t know how to counter this system.
Aldin knew that some of the evil gods had intended to do something, but they ultimately failed. Aldin had done her job too well. She had summoned Nebula to this land.
'...Nebula, it would have been better if you had left earlier.'
Aldin had intended to keep her promise, but foolishly, Nebula didn’t believe her. Even if Nebula couldn’t become a god, he could have survived somewhere. It was a sickness of doubt.
'Wait, what if it wasn't doubt...'
Aldin tried not to think further because then her remaining peace of mind would be gone, and she would become too restless; then she wouldn’t be able to focus on her work.
Aldin manipulated the system, moving the Sky Castles at Avartin. The floating crystals began to operate.
'This is just for show.'
Even if the Empire managed to do something against these weapons, Aldin would not care. The old gods had lived long, and their storehouses were filled with endless remnants. Moreover, the Sky Castles, having resided in the Demon World and possessing a labyrinthine structure, were such that even the old gods did not know exactly what was in them.
'Initially, they might win. But in the end, they will be defeated.'
Aldin planned to end this war quickly. It was unfortunate to think of the suffering Avartin would face after the war, but the war itself was pain.
'So there is only one way to lessen your pain...Nebula.'
The system was always accurate. The gods of the Pantheon thought they had escaped and hidden successfully, but they had not.
'This death is my gift.'
Aldin moved her finger toward the system screen.
***
At the Baustan Sanctuary, the main force of the Baustan Revolutionary Army had set up tents around the sanctuary and was guarding the area.
Inside the command tent, Olav Doran, with their hands clasped behind their back, paced anxiously until they saw the Sylph orderly, Horein, enter.
"What is he doing?"
Olav never intended to remain in the sanctuary. The best option was to lead Sung-Woon to the Imperial Army. There could be some conflict, but it would be bearable. In fact, if they managed to guide him successfully, it could even improve the image of the Revolutionary Army.
Olav knew that revolutions were not just about guns and swords. They always needed allies who would sympathize with the revolution, and those allies could not be moved by guns and swords. Hearts had to be swayed.
But Nebula strictly refused to do so. Nebula decided to stay in the Baustan Sanctuary. Left with no choice, Olav sent someone to contact the Imperial Army, deciding to protect Sung-Woon until their arrival.
Olav offered Sung-Woon a safer and larger command tent, but Sung-Woon declined even that. Sung-Woon asked for time alone, saying he had something to do, and Olav couldn’t refuse any of his requests.
Olav had tried to persuade Sung-Woon to not stay alone in the sanctuary with the reasoning that it was dangerous, even going so far as to plead, but Sung-Woon mentioned the gifted pistol, making Olav wonder if he truly knew how to use it, but couldn't dare to test it.
The only things Olav managed to provide were the cleanest bedding, spare clothes, necessities from the unit, and sending a guard during meal times to deliver food.
"Night Sky?"
"Who else?"
Initially, orderly Horein's heart also raced at the sight of Sung-Woon, but now, having seen him several times, they responded nonchalantly.
"He's just sitting still. What do you call it? Lotus position?"
"Still?"
"Must have a lot on his mind."
"What about his meal?"
"Dinner? I just served it."
"No, I mean lunch."
Horein looked into the paper bag in their hand.
"Well, he ate about half and left the rest."
"What? He doesn't look ill, does he? Hasn't he been leaving his food unfinished since yesterday?"
Horein frowned. "General, it'd be stranger if he hadn’t been. Our emergency food is terrible. It's impressive he ate half of it. I thought his taste would be refined."
"Is it that bad?"
"Well, you eat anything, General."
"Well...that's what my species does."
"Why drag innocent Frogmen into this?"
Olav pretended not to hear the retort and continued the conversation. "How are the others doing with sentry duty?"
"They didn't doze off. They’re normally good at it, aren't they?"
"Yes... But wasn't dinner okay today? It would taste fine for him too, right? I thought it tasted fine."
"...General, can't we switch to the Imperial Army’s food rations?"
Olav sighed, thinking of the future of the Revolutionary Army. "How's the situation outside?"
"You’re the one who has been glued to the radio all day, General."
That was true. Olav had been listening to the news broadcasted on the Orazen’s Public Broadcasting. The world was turning upside down. Though not known how, the future of the Revolutionary Army no longer held as much priority.
'I'm feeling weak. But I must stay sharp at a time like this.'
Olav habitually stroked their folding rifle, then noticed their orderly doing something in the corner.
"What are you doing?"
"Packing."
"Packing what?"
"The leftovers from Night Sky's meal. I thought maybe we could sell it to the fanatics."
"...Oh dear, you moron. How can a secularist..."
"Secularism is one thing, capitalism another. It's about raising funds from the enemy."
Olav, intending to sternly reprimand Horein for continuously talking back, opened their mouth to speak.
Woooom...
At least, Olav would have if a strange noise hadn’t come from outside the tent. Then a voice came from the portable radio Olav was carrying.
It was a sentry. "Northwest, 1000, unidentified object spotted. Approaching fast."
Olav responded quickly, "All units, cease rest immediately and stand alert. Reserves assemble in front of the tent."
Olav checked their rifle and ammunition. They had been checking all day, so there were no problems with it.
Horein asked, "Are you going there yourself?"
"You stay here."
"What's the use of guarding the tent without the general in it?"
As Olav walked out, Horein followed. A squad of reserves had already assembled.
"We guard the Devil Night Sky. If anyone thinks this goes against our beliefs, quit now."
The squad remained silent. In the Baustan Revolutionary Army, if one had objections, they would speak within 2 seconds, meaning no one intended to quit.
Olav walked past the squad toward the sanctuary, with the squad following.
Olav spoke into their radio, "From this moment, we are committed to protecting the Devil Night Sky. Our lives are not guaranteed. This goes against our beliefs. As an unfit general of the Revolutionary Army, I promise safety for deserters. Each unit, confirm if there are any willing to desert and report the number."
With each step toward the sanctuary, Olav felt immense weight. Voices began to flow from the radio.
"1st Squad reporting, 0 deserters."
"2nd Squad reporting, no deserters."
"3rd Squad reporting, 0 deserters."
"4th Squad reporting, 0 deserters."
"Headquarters Company Commander speaking. We heard Chairman Sarcho's speech. General, we haven't abandoned our beliefs. We believe this fight is also a revolution."
Olav closed their lips tightly before saying, "Hey, Headquarters Company Commander. Cut the sentimental talk and report your numbers."
"...0 deserters."
"Alright. No deserters in the unit, understood. Do as we've done in real combat. Don't be afraid."
The 2nd squad leader said, "Honestly, we're not as scared as the Imperial Army. It's about time they got a taste of their own medicine."
Laughter echoed among the soldiers on guard below the sanctuary. Olav couldn't help but smile. The surviving members of the Revolutionary Army were as strong as the Imperial Army, maybe stronger in some aspects. They had no intention of dying and going to the Prairie of Beginnings. As calculating as they were, their will to accept death as death was extraordinary.
'How slow can the Imperial Army be?'
Olav clicked their tongue and looked northwest, where a shadow was looming unexpectedly. The mysterious entity approached so rapidly that, despite it being night, its silhouette was visible.
'...Looks bizarre.'
It somewhat reminded Olav of the old gods described over the radio, as Humans with wings—but without the Human part.
What was approaching was indeed a mass of wings. About seven or nine irregular wings fluttered as it approached, several pale eyes embedded in the middle. Surrounding it were three floating crystals, slowly orbiting.
Olav said, "First, ensure Night Sky's safety. Then, we'll retreat to the established defense line and counter the enemy."
The squad leader nodded.
"Understood."
"Wait, hold on."
Olav thought they still had enough distance, but then they saw the monster hover at an altitude of about 300 meters.
'Stopping means...'
Olav inferred. Their quick, adaptive decision-making had always elevated their reputation as a commander.
'...There's no need to come any closer.'
Olav spoke into the radio.
"All units, open fire! Reserve squad, charge!"
Before Olav could even issue the command, the reserve squad was already running ahead. The surrounding forest of the Baustan Sanctuary, where the Baustan Revolutionary Army had been waiting in silence, lit up as they opened fire.
Woooom...
The monster seemed to be affected by the bullets, but not fatally. It just wrapped a few wings around itself for protection, and now it was brazenly hovering in the air without even fluttering its wings. The monster’s eyes were fixed on the Baustan Sanctuary.
Olav spoke into the radio, "Where are the mortars?"
"Just finished setting up! Firing now! Fire!"
The mortar shells, typically for high-arc firing, were launched directly at the airborne target. The monstrous entity, dozens of meters in size, was engulfed in the flames of high-explosive shells, staggering.
'Good, it's working.'
But Olav never trusted such moments. If there was an opportunity to project firepower, the enemy had to be crushed until it turned to dust.
"Mortar crew, fire at maximum rate! Melt the barrels if you have to!"
Boom! Boom! ...Boom!
With continuous hits, the monster began to slowly descend in altitude, wrapped in flames.
'Is it crashing? Or...?'
Olav, holding their rifle in one hand, walked toward the sanctuary, almost crawling. Olav saw the reserve squad unable to enter the sanctuary, just standing at the front.
"What are you guys doing?"
"Uh, well... It's just that..."
Olav couldn't believe their eyes. The ground was covered in black beetles. These beetles, as if there was no more room inside, were pushing each other out of the sanctuary. Since Horein hadn't mentioned them, they must have appeared only recently.
"...What?"
A voice came through the radio. "General! The monster is right behind you!"
Olav whirled around. Just as the voice had said, the monster, now at a much lower altitude, nearly level with the sanctuary, spread its wings wide facing the sanctuary. Its yellow eyes began to glow. Something was about to start.
'...Shit!'
Olav aimed their rifle at the monster and pulled the trigger. Or, they tried to. Aiming and shooting were second nature to Olav, so when their target suddenly began to disappear, Olav involuntarily relaxed their finger on the trigger.
"...What?"
A massive shadow appeared from behind the Baustan Sanctuary, grabbing the monster with two giant scythe-like arms. The monster, startled, rolled its eyes to look at the massive being that had grabbed it.
-You’re a very disgusting-looking bird....
The monster faced the being as it had intended. This ancient giant, known for its Supernatural Strength, had fought in numerous battlefields. Known as the master of battle, acting on behalf of the divine will, its nickname was Night Sky's Scythe. The massive mantis, Stratis, had caught the monster.
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