Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End

Chapter 585.1: In the Name of the Kingmaker (1)

Chapter 585.1: In the Name of the Kingmaker (1)

Roel clutched his chest as he watched powerful enemies swarming him from all directions to the beat of deafening war drums. Beastskin flags rose one after another in the white desert. Deviant soldiers shouted their war cries while the priests began chanting in unison.

Many emotions flickered across his face, from the shock of falling for the deviants’ ploy to anxiety upon realizing that he was encircled, but it all eventually faded to inexplicable calmness.

Never before had humankind simultaneously faced three Origin Level 1 Race Sovereigns from the deviants. These Race Sovereigns were from different tribes and likely had their misgivings toward one another, which might explain why they had never joined hands in previous wars. That was also why humankind had previously been able to defeat them one after another.

Yet, everything changed today.

Under the Deviant Sovereign’s orders, they had gathered together today to bare their fangs at a common target. As much as Roel wanted to deny it, he already knew the outcome awaiting him.

Even saying that he was in a precarious position here was being awfully optimistic.

Within the desert winds that felt a little chilly under the influence of frost aura, Roel looked toward the distant west and heaved a quiet sigh. He had promised Nora that he would definitely return to reunite with her, but it now looked like he would never be able to fulfill that promise.

Roar!

The giant deviant’s roar shook the world.

At the same time, the pale yellow wind barrier revolving around Roel swiftly weakened under the Deviant Sovereign’s enigmatic powers. A massive silhouette slowly emerged from the pristine white desert, blocking off Roel’s final escape route.

Standing atop the three-armed giant deviant’s shoulder, the Deviant Sovereign’s expression, which had remained stoic thus far, flickered upon seeing that Roel had been encircled.

The sword-bearing deviant and the winged deviant halted their advance and slightly lowered their heads as a gesture of respect. The surrounding deviant army also stopped marching and shouting. The deviant priests silenced their chanting. All of them turned to the silhouette standing atop the giant deviant.

An unnerving silence settled upon the vast desert. All that could be heard was the rustling sand.

Roel stared speechlessly at this inconceivably peaceful scenery that was unheard of when it came to the deviants. It was then that the Deviant Sovereign on top of the giant deviant cast its gaze over.

The moment their eyes met, Roel’s body stiffened up. He readied himself to deal with the Deviant Sovereign’s enigmatic attack once more. However, the Deviant Sovereign neither raised its arms nor ordered an attack. Instead, it spoke in a baffling language.

“%?@??……%”

It was a language Roel had never heard before, the deviants’ tongue. Yet he could understand it, the corresponding meaning surfacing in his mind as he heard those words.

“It’s been a long time, Kingmaker.”

“!”

Roel’s golden eyes widened upon hearing that familiar term. His expression slowly turned grim as he stared at the figure standing on the giant deviant’s shoulders. He finally understood why the deviants were willing to devote so many resources to deal with him.

The term, ‘Kingmaker’, had been long forgotten in the annals of history, with the glory of the Kingmaker Clan having faded to dust. But to those who had lived through the ancient era, none was more troublesome to deal with than the one whom Sia had appointed Her Overseer.

They saw the Kingmaker as the number one threat to eliminate.

“You know me,” Roel remarked.

The Deviant Sovereign paused for a brief moment before replying, “You and your people have always been our priority, regardless of the era.”

“How ironic. The only ones who remember us after so many years are our enemies.” Roel laughed in self-mockery as he wiped off the blood seeping from his mouth.

The Deviant Sovereign stared at him with deep eyes that seemed to be recalling the distant past before finally saying, “Sia’s powers have always been so brilliant.”

“Sia’s powers? It looks like you know quite a lot… That’s why you came here to kill me?”

“It’s your fate to die in my hands from the moment my ally sent you here.”

“Fate?” The Deviant Sovereign’s words provoked a laugh from Roel. “What exactly is the thing you term ‘fate’? Is it fate that the Savior you worshiped turned into a madness-inducing monster? Is it also fate that your people fell into depravity?”

The Deviant Sovereign’s face darkened, but that hardly deterred the fearless Roel in the least.

“You must have lived for a long time now. It makes me wonder how you live each day. Do you thank the world that you have remained safe from the Savior’s insanity thus far? Or have you cursed yourself for thousands of years as you witness the depravity and insanity that afflicted your brethren? Can your people even understand my words?”

“…”

There was a subtle change in the Deviant Sovereign’s expression, but it wasn’t one of regret.

“Those are the prices we have to pay. It’ll all change when He returns.”

The Deviant Sovereign seemed disinclined to say anything more than that. It turned around and let out a deep growl reminiscent of a wild beast. All of the deviants standing on the pristine white desert frenziedly raised their weapons in response.

The Deviant Sovereign spared a glance at Roel before making its final declaration.

“I am the Beastman Sovereign, Banjol. Descendant of the ancient bloodline, perish!”

A resounding explosion followed.

Billowing dark clouds swarmed in and covered the sun. A heavy pressure reminiscent of a mountain crushed down on Roel, as the Race Sovereigns began their movements.

The winged deviant let out a bizarre cry as meat tumors sprouted out and tightly wrapped its body, causing its size to continuously swell. It was transformed into a massive bird-like monster. Amid the cheers of the deviants, it rose into the sky.

Meanwhile, the sword-bearing deviant furiously roared as a tremendous surge of mana gathered in its body and emanated a blood-red glow. Its eyes glowed with bloodthirst, and the murderous intent it emanated was so heavy that even deviant soldiers dared not to approach it.

The Deviant Sovereign leaped off the giant deviant and landed on the white sand. It was disinclined to participate in this dishonorable battle, but that, in turn, freed the three-armed giant deviant, who had been serving as its guard thus far. Now that it was finally free to make its move, the giant deviant cackled coldly as its bulging arms began to glow.

Unlike the Deviant Sovereign, who still carried some respect for the ancient bloodline, the new generation of Origin Level 1 monsters knew nothing about distant history. With overflowing bloodthirst, they launched their attacks.

After a long bout of silence, Roel finally made his move too.

Whether it was to guard his ancestors’ honor or to vie for the small glimmer of hope of survival, Roel had no choice but to go all out. Thus, he released all of his restraints.

Lights of different colors shone from Roel. A biting frost aura, a pale yellow tempest, and searing lava converged to form a defensive barrier around him. He looked at the billowing dark clouds in the sky with sharp eyes.

It was nigh impossible for him to escape from the encirclement of so many deviants. As long as the other Origin Level 2 or Origin Level 3 deviant soldiers could stall him for the slightest instant, the Origin Level 1 Race Sovereigns would surely be able to catch up with him in a heartbeat.

The first thing he had to do was to significantly reduce the number of enemies before him. It just so happened that he had the spell for that.

“Death Rain,” he murmured.

The dark clouds in the sky rapidly gathered. Then, with a fierce growl from the ancient calamity, pitch-black rain began pattering down on the white desert.

“Grar!”

The three Race Sovereigns roared simultaneously in response to the rain of death.

The sword-bearing deviant bolted toward Roel with its sword trailing behind it. The winged deviant let out a piercing screech. The three-armed giant deviant, who had witnessed firsthand the prowess of Roel’s spells, raised its gigantic fists to shelter itself from the rain.

Deviant soldiers advanced with roused war cries, none of them seeing the anomalous weather as a threat to them. Just like that, the battle commenced.