Chapter 206 Obey

…maybe even God.

Greven didn't say anything definitive. If the other party was a god, then what was Mr. Nova's relationship with this god?

Ashes had privately speculated with him that perhaps the "ghost" was a servant of that god, acting in accordance with the god's will - and this could also explain the other party's terrifying intelligence, which was completely unlike that of a human.

Ashes's thinking was consistent with the usual logic of the local residents of Ambrose Continent, but Greven's instinct told him that this was not the case.

How could a high and mighty god be willing to appear beside a divine servant in such a manner... one could even describe it as a "knight"? Even the most favored divine servants in history would never have received such treatment.

What’s more, this scholar holds the blasphemous view that “God is human.”

Although Greven rarely saw the god's whereabouts, and the only times he interacted with him were with Mr. Nova's participation, his gestures and eyes could not deceive him. Between the gods and humans, humans were the ones who took the lead in all actions.

So either there's something wrong with humans, or there's something wrong with gods—or maybe there's something wrong with both of them.

The blond youth raised his eyes slightly, and Greven almost took a step back. This god seemed very gentle, with a gentle smile always on his face. Coupled with his breathtaking face, bathed in sunlight, he looked like a righteous and noble hero who should appear in ancient epics. There was always a charm in him that made people trust him.

However, a creation that is too perfect will also give people an extremely terrifying and ominous premonition, at least that is the case for Greven.

He couldn't tell what was wrong with the other person, but an inexplicable feeling of oppression came over him silently. His instincts kept telling him to stay away from that person, away from the source of danger, away from the terrifying existence that was quietly surging under those bright blue pupils.

The professor watched in bewilderment as the brown-haired youth's pupils suddenly dilated for a moment, his arm muscles visibly tensing as he almost subconsciously reached for the weapon at his waist. He seemed startled by something, and the thing that could suddenly startle him clearly wasn't him.

He turned his head suspiciously to glance at his assistant. The other person quickly caught his gaze, slightly tilted his head, and looked at him questioningly, his blue eyes as gentle and clear as always, with a hint of smile in them.

Nova: “…”

It's strange, judging from his micro-expressions, this guy seems quite normal now.

"My strength is not important." Seeing that no one seemed to be suspicious, Azuka turned around calmly and said calmly, "Because I will not interfere with the Ruskin family's fleet."

In fact, this is also the same reason why he has never been deeply involved in the development of some events.

The existence of gods remains extraordinary to the humans of this world. Since becoming a god, Azuka has gradually begun to sense the existence of "faith." These soft, slender, luminous, transparent tentacles, primarily from the Natalin people and his companions, unconsciously wriggle around his origin, accompanied by murmured prayers, pitifully trying to touch him.

He ignored them, letting some of them gradually dissipate - but if he wanted, he could even follow these tentacles deep into the essence of the "believers" and play with those fragile human souls in his hands. No wonder countless gods could not resist this temptation.

But conquest and manipulation had never been the professor's original intention. What that person sought was never to destroy the enemy's body, but something a thousand times more difficult, something that even gods couldn't accomplish. His intervention would even destroy it.

——What he wants is the awakening of mankind, and the God of Resistance and Change strongly agrees with this view.

Later there was another reason, which was that these tentacles called "faith" were annoying.

It was fine now, not many in number. But what if one day tens of thousands of transparent, luminous tentacles pounced upon him, noisily and joyfully trying to persuade him to open his essence to them and become the supreme and sole master of countless believers? That certain god had absolutely no interest in that, finding it extremely noisy and even rather distasteful.

Greven had no idea what this young god, who was still a rare gem even among the gods, was thinking. He just tried to remain calm in the breathtaking and terrifying feeling of oppression.

...Is this a warning? The brown-haired young man thought nervously, because of his exploration and offense?

It was Mr. Nova who spoke up to save him: "He won't help. We have to get through this crisis on our own."

"Because he's too strong. If he were to take action, the People's Party would have no chance of growth, which would contradict our original intention." Even as he was praising someone, the gentleman's tone remained completely calm. But Greven suddenly felt a sense of relief. In a flash, the blond youth, who had seemed like a terrifying scourge to him just a moment ago, had softened his features and looked downright harmless.

The professor thought for a moment and then soothed her, "Don't be nervous. We are a cooperative relationship now. It's normal for you to have doubts. You can raise them with me."

"You're very perceptive, able to infer these things from limited information." He even praised her generously, "But there are some things I can't tell you for now. I hope you understand."

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. Greven said, "..."

...It's almost a conclusion, Greven thought with a headache. His premonition was not wrong. Although he didn't know why, the god really didn't like him very much.

The brown-haired young man was silent for a moment, then suddenly closed his eyes and whispered, "Someone will die."

The professor watched him quietly.

"With just me, the slave army, and maybe Miss Marshilin, I... am not sure if we can fight against three battleships." He stared at the list he had just handed over. Each name represented a life, including many comrades and brothers who had been with him day and night and shared weal and woe.

This is destined to be an extremely bloody battle.

Perhaps he could single-handedly contain the vast majority of the warlocks and warriors on board, but casualties were still inevitable, and even quite heavy. Before the riot began, he had already mentally prepared himself and the others for certain death, but amidst the ecstasy of victory, he began to become somewhat anxious.

...Perhaps he wasn't a qualified leader, Greven thought with a wry smile. He couldn't be completely rational, couldn't muster the resolve to pay the "necessary price." An emotion, knowing it was wrong but unable to dissipate, quietly grew under immense pressure... What if someone could help, reducing the number of casualties even further?

The gentleman seemed to have grasped his deep-seated cowardice and weakness. Greven could not help but lower his eyes in embarrassment, trying to avoid those cold, bright, smoky gray eyes. Inexplicably, it reminded him of the time when he was forced into slavery, spending a full year in the dark dungeon before finally catching sight of the starry sky.

It was an illusion of being stunned, breathtaking, and swallowed up by the incomparably brilliant starry sky.

"There will always be casualties in any struggle," the leader of the Limin Party said calmly, "You and I are destined to be victims."

The brown-haired young man smiled bitterly and said, "It's always better to have fewer people die."

"That's fine, but what do you plan to do?" the man asked mercilessly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Train the army, refine your strategy, forge weapons—or kneel down and pray to the powerful, or even to the gods? The former and the latter have vastly different meanings."

“…”

"If only the shackles on their bodies are broken, but the shackles binding their souls remain, then these former slaves-turned-warriors will forever be trapped in the passive narrative of 'salvation.' This is even more fatal to an army than increasing casualties." Those gray eyes gazed sternly into his soul. "Greven, as the leader of the slave rebellion, you should be well aware of this."

"...I'm sorry, Mr. Chief." Greven was silent for a moment, then suddenly leaned forward slightly with determination. "I've just been in a bad state of mind lately. I'll adjust as soon as possible."

The black-haired young man lowered his eyes in disbelief, tapping the paper with his pen tip and saying coldly, "And how do you know there will be so many casualties?"

Greven was stunned for a moment, then heard the other party declare with extraordinary arrogance: "Instead of pinning your hopes on some illusory god, you might as well choose to trust my brain."

He spread out a map, placed a few pen caps on it to represent the enemy and our side, and then motioned for Greven to come forward and watch the battle simulation. As he explained, Greven's expression began to change dramatically, from confusion to surprise, sudden realization, and finally to undeniable shock.

Even though the notorious slave general in his previous life was still in his youth, his natural war acumen enabled him to quickly judge that the treacherous and genius tactics before him were highly feasible and could completely annihilate the enemy while minimizing casualties.

"I was planning to discuss this plan with you at the next war preparedness meeting." The professor raised his chin slightly and accepted the other party's admiration and praise with dignity.

After dealing with this guy's problem, he suddenly stopped him when he saw him returning with a full load and about to leave.

"Actually, there's another very important reason, and I hope you can keep it secret."

After receiving the careful promise, the black-haired young man said with great seriousness: "Every time Azuka uses his power, he will pay a very dangerous and heavy price, and it may even endanger his life."

The use of divine power would inevitably lead to a growing resonance—of course, it wasn't as severe as he claimed, considering the other party was still a very young New God. However, the professor didn't want those he trusted to be influenced by the other party's strength to gradually come to believe that the price he paid was justified and insignificant. Power doesn't justify sacrifice.

...This is also for the sake of team harmony, he thought.

"So this time I won't allow him to take action." The tyrant declared with extraordinary authority as the Savior's eyes suddenly softened. "And he listens to me."