Retreat
“That belonging to mortals shall go to mortals. That belonging to gods shall go to them. Please do not delude yourself.” Benedict’s tone was almost pitiful of the fate of mankind.
“Tsk, I hate mediums like you. You’ve even brainwashed yourself…” Leylin looked behind him, unsurprised to see the legendary priest of Mystra as well, “Isn’t this all for this avatar I have? Even the Goddess of the Weave is joining forces with you…”
“You should know not to slight the wills of two greater gods. As long as you hand over the source of evil in your hands, our church will definitely compensate you satisfyingly…” Benedict now had a merciful look in his eyes, as if he was saving the world.
What a joke that was! Would Mystra or Tyr hand over a portion of divinity in exchange for the avatar? Even if they were willing to, Leylin himself wouldn’t want it. Leylin was used to getting what he wanted, and did not accept charity. This situation caused anger to rise from the depths of his eyes. “Sorry, not interested.”
The clear rejection immediately stunned Benedict. He then grew indignant, “You’re so stubborn!
“Go!” Five high-ranked legendary priests moved forward at his command, forming into a pentagram as they circled Leylin. It exhibited great prohibitive strength.
“So… now that we’ve shed all pretense of cordiality, it’s time to do it by force?” A dangerous smile rose by Leylin’s lips, “Luckily, I’m not entirely unprepared…”
Watching Leylin surrounded by the pentagram, a kind smile arose on Benedict’s face, “This spell formation is boosted by our gods, and it is impossible to destroy it from within. Do you still not repent?”
Leylin took at the sparkling array, seemingly deep in thought. ‘These are pretty good sealing runes. I’ll need some effort to break out from within…’
After hearing the man speak, however, he snickered, “It wouldn’t do good for you to dispose of the legendaries you invited yourselves.”
“You think too highly of yourself. Our church can bear the consequences of losing a mere legendary…” Benedict sighed, “Looks like Leylin has been corroded by greed. Go!”
“Exactly what I was thinking. Do it!” Leylin nodded.
“We’re already at this point, and you still…” The fury in Benedict’s heart grew, and in that moment he made up his mind. He would suffer the loss of reputation in exchange for Leylin’s death.
However, his expression quickly changed.
*Woo! Woo!* A deathly aura, as dark as ink, had filled their surroundings. Numerous bony hands dug their way out of the ground, some with rotting flesh remaining on them as they roared with ire.
“This profaning of souls, it’s a necromancer!” The priests’ bodies immediately flashed with divine spells.
“Keke…” The bones started to laugh with a strange sound as they formed a gigantic horned skull. The skull struck the pentagram.
*Rumble!* Although divine spells were the bane of necromancy, the opposite was true as well. The pentagram trembled under the deathly aura, reacting like hot oil would to cold water.
*Ka-cha! Ka-cha!* Many black cracks crawled along the spell formation, seeming like human veins. The formation then shattered loudly.
“This strength… It’s a high-ranked legendary necromancer!” Benedict exclaimed in his shock as a mouthful of fresh blood dyed his snow-white collar red.
“You got it in one. I’m sorry you don’t get a prize…” Leylin’s figure flashed, and in an instant he’d disappeared from the formation. By the time the black light flashed again, he was already outside the encirclement.
“Chase him!” Benedict yelled, no time left to care for his injuries.
The supporting soldiers he’d brought had terrifying might. There were many legendary priests from the Goddess of the Weave, and there was even an entire regiment of paladins.
*Crack!* *Crack!* However, all these people were drowned out by the army of the undead. The skeletons enveloped them like an endless tsunami, and few spells could fight off this army of cannon fodder. Benedict’s eyes widened further.
“Stay here!” he shouted, activating quite a few high-ranked divine items. Still, even he was met by a wall of skeletons. A strange skull watched him coldly, a dead expression in its empty eye sockets.
‘Legendary spell, Skeletal Wall. It’s said to be so powerful even legendary paladins need to hack at it hundreds of times to deal with it…’ Benedict recognised the origins of this wall. Unable to suppress his injuries any longer, he spat out a few large mouthfuls of blood.
He rejected attempts to help him along, now looking like a ravenous wolf in winter. “A high-ranked legendary necromancer. Use this to identify and trace him!”
Although he said that, Benedict knew full well that powerful necromancer had very long lives. Some even just turned into liches, and it was unclear how many of them were hiding in the corners of the world. It would be a mere fantasy if one wanted to determine the identity of this one.
Besides, with how things were, what was the point even if they did find out?
“Damn it! DAMN IT!” At the end, the bishop could only let out an angry growl like that of an injured animal, unable to do anything more.
In a different location.
The little bit of Malar’s avatar that Leylin had deliberately let off streaked through the skies like a shooting star, breaking through a few seals to reach the outer planes.
However, just as it was about to return to his true body in his divine realm the Beast Wasteland, he was suddenly grasped by a palm. It continued to snarl, evidently frantic as if in peril. Divine force rippled forth, but dissipated like a cool breeze in front of the hand.
“Quiet!” A discontent voice sounded, seeming to carry with it the power of laws. Every single movement of the hand seemed to be paired with a vast divine force, causing Malar’s avatar to immediately cease all movement.
“I never thought there would be someone in the prime material plane able to intercept Malar’s avatar…” The Weave rippled, and a goddess with starlike eyes descended to look at the person who’d grasped the avatar in his hands.
“Although there were surprises in our plan, it’s still under our control…” The god that rendered Malar’s avatar unable to fight back looked rather strange. He wore ordinary warrior clothing, and looked incomparably haggard. His eyes were lined with blood, and he was missing his right hand. He looked like an old veteran whose will was still strong.
However, he’d still managed to grab Malar’s slime-like avatar with his remaining one. The avatar was completely unable to move. This was Tyr, the Greater God of Justice and the protector of all paladins!
“Alright, Mistress Weave. Let us see to Malar…” Tyr spoke slowly, following Mystra to the outer regions of Malar’s divine realm.
Once they arrived at this place, the golden sphere that was Malar’s avatar seemed to grow more emotional. Loud howls echoed from within the divine realm.
“Now, Malar. Swear to the Styx that you won’t take part in our battle with the orcish gods, and you will have your avatar back. Silverymoon will also acknowledge the current boundaries in land and let the Blackblood Tribe remain in the Moonwood…” The Weave trembled, sending the goddess’ words into the divine realm.
Malar’s roars quietened down for a while, but he did not walk outside. Being a beast did not mean he was a fool. The God of Justice was right outside! If he dared walk out, Tyr would definitely annihilate him. Mystra would probably be happy to see this happen.
Hence, Malar resolutely hid in his divine realm, occasionally releasing a few animalistic howls that were hard to understand. Of course, for the gods, understanding each other’s thoughts was very simple.
A long while later, Tyr nodded and sent Malar’s avatar into his realm, and then left the realm with the Goddess of the Weave.
“Alright… Malar side is taken care of. Thank you for your help…” Mystra told Tyr.
“With our divine force, it would be a simple task to break into Malar’s realm, kill him, and send his truesoul to the astral plane…” Tyr began to speak.
“He’s still a true god after all. Now that a war between the gods can erupt at any time, we shouldn’t waste too much divine force. Besides, while Malar is someone who works alone, I know that he has dealings with the gods of fury…”
The explanation rendered him quiet. Even the God of Justice had to learn to compromise. Had he not, he would long since have fallen.
“The preparations in the mortal world are almost done. While those legendaries have their own plans, I have it under control…”
All sorts of images flashed in front of Mystra, revealing recent events.
“Now that the attack on the avatar is done, the battle between legendaries should start soon. When the time comes, I’ll send my divine weapon down. It will challenge the possessor of the Thunder God’s Hammer, Saladin…” Tyr reiterated their previous agreement.
“Justice will definitely triumph over evil. The mighty wills of the various universes came to this decision, and I now say this representing the suffering commoners of the north.” The god’s eyes seemed to pass through time and space, seeing everything…