"Even though I knew you would say that, I still have to thank you." Asa looked at Grutt with a smile.
Perhaps it was the resonance between those who possessed the World Tree Leaf and the ripples of the Sunwell, or perhaps it was due to the effects of True Meditation. Even though no one else could perceive it, Asa could clearly sense the changes occurring within Grutt's body. He could distinctly feel that, despite standing motionless like a statue, Grutt's body—once riddled with wounds from the corrosion of the Black Star—was rapidly healing. The immense vitality within him was also being restored. Asa knew that Grutt would recover. That certainty was what allowed him to remain calm.
"Don't thank me. You saved me twice. How could I let you be taken away by these loudmouths, spouting grand principles, just to be used as cannon fodder?" Grutt did not smile. He merely cast a cold glance at the few people surrounding them.
"How is this possible?" Elder Lloyd stared at Grutt, who had just risen from the altar. His deeply wrinkled face scrunched up even further, as if it might crumble to the ground at any moment. "The water of the Sunwell and World Tree Leaf—those are sacred powers that only the purest bloodline of the Elven royal family can integrate with..."
The Pope and the two Masters of the Tooth Tower looked grim, while Lancelote's expression had gone beyond mere grimness—it was something indescribable. Anyone who had never seen it before would never imagine such an expression appearing on someone as resolute and deep-minded as him. It was the look of a man witnessing someone he knew transform into a monster—shock, fear, and utter disbelief.
"Oh? So this is General Grutt, the current leader of Orford?" Edwina gazed at Grutt, her eyes as soft as water, and her voice just the same—like a hot spring infused with hundreds of barrels of honey, threatening to melt any man submerged in it into a puddle of mud. "However... everything can be discussed, can't it? Surely we can't just go by your word alone—"
"My word alone is enough."
Grutt's voice was as cold and unyielding as ancient granite. The moment he spoke, Edwina instinctively fell silent, and her gaze turned lifeless, like a dead pool of water. This was the disparity in presence, a retreat ingrained in instinct—just like how no matter how flamboyant a peacock might be, it would never dare flaunt itself in front of a lion. His gaze crashed into hers like an unstoppable force, piercing straight into the deepest part of her eyes.
"I'll give you another piece of advice: I don't kill women—unless they go out of their way to seek death."
The Master of the Water Tower's face turned an ugly shade of green. One of her hands had already gripped a scroll behind her back, yet she lacked the courage to draw it.
Not only that, but the moment she spoke, both the Tower Master Granden, the Pope, and even Lancelote could feel a single droplet of water subtly tremble against the back of their necks. A grandmaster-level mage using such an implicit trick would normally have absolute confidence that no one would notice.
The other three also sensed Edwina's subtle signal, yet none of them acted. That was because they felt something even stronger—an absolute certainty that they must not act.
The Tower Master Granden had only a vague sense that even if he did take action, it might be futile. Grutt's sheer presence alone already spoke volumes about his overwhelming strength. The Pope, however, could clearly feel it—every last trace of the Black Star's corruption within Grutt had completely vanished. While he no longer radiated the same oppressive aura he had once displayed in the Glory Fortress, when he alone had shaken the entire hall and faced the Undead King, there was something even deeper now. And in that depth, they all understood—he could only be stronger than before.
As a top-tier warrior and a former opponent who had crossed blades with him in life-and-death battle, Lancelote sensed it most keenly. His expression made that clear.
In an instant, the balance of power had completely reversed. The three of them exchanged glances before their gazes landed, as if by unspoken agreement, on Lord Borugan. He was now the only one who might be able to talk to Grutt.
Without waiting for any signal, Lord Borugan had already rushed forward, speaking in rapid-fire: "Lord Grutt, it's truly a relief that you're alive! But the situation is dire—not just here, but across the entire continent—so please, I urge you to remain calm and—"
Grutt merely gave him a glance.
Borugan's mouth snapped shut immediately. His broad face twisted slightly before he let out a heavy sigh, then turned back to the Pope and the others, as if arriving at a firm conclusion. "It seems… he's already calm enough."
No one spoke again.
After a long silence, the Pope finally broke it, his voice hoarse and slow. "Do you truly understand what you are doing?"
"Of course," Grutt replied coolly.
"Very well. Then I have nothing more to say. When paths diverge, words become meaningless." The Pope's voice grew increasingly hoarse and aged. He turned to the two Tower Masters. "And what about you two?"
"You're right—there's no point to say anything. This isn't someone who listens to reason," Edwina said, her face still ashen, glaring at Grutt with venom in her eyes.
The others remained silent.
At this point, it was no longer a question of whether he understood reason—it was that he simply did not care to listen.
When one's fists were large enough, even the most rational argument ceased to be valid—or at least, it became completely ineffective. Everyone present was well-versed in reasoning, which was precisely why they understood this truth even more clearly.
Ever since his initial shock, Elder Lloyd had remained silent, standing there like a decaying tree on the verge of collapse, his frail body trembling slightly. His cloudy old eyes continuously scanned the people present. At this moment, he slowly gestured toward the Pope and the others.
"Very well. When you've reached a decision, let us know your plan. Perhaps… we might cooperate with you," the Pope said with a deep sigh. He turned and walked toward the base of the tree, his steps unexpectedly unsteady.
This was a choice made out of necessity—the only option when no others remained. Yet, reaching this decision had been anything but easy. The two Tower Masters followed behind him without a word.
Elder Lloyd cast a peculiar glance at Grutt before turning to leave with Ruya and Kaylin.
Lancelote was the last to go. He gave Grutt an expression of extreme curiosity, shook his head, and muttered, "I've had a lingering question for a long time—are you really human…? No, are you even a normal, living creature of flesh and blood?"
Before long, only four figures remained atop the massive war tree—Sandru, Lord Borugan, Asa, and Grutt.
From the moment Grutt stood up and spoke, Sandru, like everyone else, had his gaze and attention completely drawn to him, momentarily stunned. Only now did he finally let out a long, wistful sigh. "It really is the era of the young now."
His expression had noticeably relaxed, though it carried a deeper exhaustion. Just moments ago, both his mind and magic had been pushed to their absolute limits. The necromantic spells he had cast, which relied on self-mutilation, used life force as the price to amplify magic. What he had sacrificed was far more than just a tooth or a fingertip. If he had continued down that path, the Pope and the others might not have even needed to act against him.
Lord Borugan, standing beside him, did not look pleased, but neither was his expression as grim as the Pope's or Lancelote's. Emotionally, he undoubtedly sided with Asa. However, under the sheer weight of logic in his massive head, emotion alone was never enough to influence his values or decisions. No matter how important a friend might be, they could never outweigh the fate of Orford and the tens of thousands of lives at stake.
And now, things had spiraled entirely beyond his control. Even though the current situation seemed utterly irrational and went against his principles of efficiency, he at least felt much more at ease emotionally.
Asa and Grutt showed no intention of blaming him. In some ways, Lord Borugan was an incredibly simple person—so simple that even someone ten times less intelligent than him could predict his stance and reactions. His simplicity made him easy to trust.
"You have a way to deal with that monster?" Grutt looked at Asa and asked.
"No. Even the elves could only choose to join forces with Lancelote and the others. Do you think I have a better solution?" Asa shook his head with a wry smile. "Do you?"
"Of course not."
"Looks like we're thinking the same thing."
"Yeah."
"Excuse me..." Lord Borugan spoke in an extremely cautious tone, his already large eyes widening to the point that they seemed like they might pop out. Though he was a simple man in many ways, his thinking was anything but simple. From the brief exchange between the two, he had already begun to piece things together. "Are you saying that your so-called plan... is actually no plan at all? Or in other words, what you intend to do is essentially the same as what they wanted you to do?"
Asa thought for a moment, then nodded with a bitter smile. "I suppose you could put it that way."
"What?!" Sandru nearly jumped.
"I will try everything I can to stop that monster. But if there's truly no way... then just as they wanted, I'll have to stake my life on it."
"Are you out of your damn mind?! You could take this chance to escape to the Far East—" Sandru shouted.
"I can't run. That guy wasn't wrong about one thing—dying is one thing, but the most important thing is that I must not flee."
"Then how is what you're doing any different from what Magnus and the others wanted?"
"Of course it's different. They wanted me to do it. Now, I choose to do it myself."
"The result is the same, you idiot!" Sandru was nearly furious.
"If I escape now, can I escape forever? No matter what we do, as humans, don't we all end up dead in the end? The result never really matters. What matters is whether I'm following my own will in the process. So all I can say is—I'll do my best not to die," Asa said slowly. His voice was quiet, but every word carried immense weight—the weight of a true man. "But when death comes, then so be it. After all, avoiding it isn't always an option."
"You..."
"Don't worry. I know exactly what I'm doing. That's all that matters," Asa said with a lighthearted smile to Sandru. "Besides, it's not certain that I'll lose my life. That thing isn't truly the King of the Undead yet. My plan is, of course, somewhat different from theirs..."
Sandru's face turned red, but he said nothing more. When facing someone who truly knew what they were doing, no amount of persuasion would work.
"I'll say it again—as long as I'm alive, I won't let you die," Grutt nodded.
After a brief silence, Asa nodded firmly as well. "Thank you."
This was another man who knew exactly what he was doing. Beyond those two words, any more would be unnecessary.
"The logic of you men is sometimes utterly lacking in any sense of aesthetic reason," Lord Borugan sighed, shaking his head with a pained expression. Then, almost unconsciously, he nodded. "But then again... that is exactly what makes it a man's logic."