“Hmm~ hmm hmm hmm~ hmm hmm hmm~”
Olivier had changed into a pure white long dress today, with a straw hat on her head and her hands clasped behind her back.
Like a girl on an outing, she hummed a cheerful tune as she strolled through the sunlit woods.
But she wasn’t here for a picnic.
She was here to hunt, and her prey was a young wolf of noble status.
“Remove that disgusting disguise of yours, Olivier.”
Olivier stopped.
Her hands, still clasped behind her back, slowly released.
“I won’t let you see the Young Master. Now, leave! For the sake of you also being a favored one of the God of War, I’ll spare your life!”
Look—the old wolf was showing off how sharp his claws were, how pointed his teeth were.
Olivier smiled faintly as she looked at Gareth.
While pretending to tidy the stray hairs on her forehead, she silently tried to stir his emotions.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t pull it off.
As they said, an orc’s fate is either to die in battle or to become a mindless killing machine—that saying wasn’t wrong.
Gareth could still maintain normal thinking, but Olivier could feel that many of his emotions were on the verge of disappearing.
When those excess emotions completely vanished and the urge to kill entirely consumed his body, he would become a killing machine.
That day wouldn’t be long now.
Olivier noticed the dark red blood veins hidden beneath Gareth’s fur and said with a smile.
“Gareth, after all, we were partners. Isn’t this attitude of yours a little too heartbreaking for me?”
“Elaril was also your partner, and you still betrayed her.”
Gareth was unimpressed.
Everyone knew the surname Alandin meant betrayal.
Even Gauis, who had fought for them all his life, could be discarded without a change in expression.
Who would dare trust their word?
Yet a lowlife like her—the God of War had bestowed a blessing upon her!
Gareth still couldn’t understand why the God of War would do such a thing.
“No, no, you’ve got the order wrong. Elaril broke the treaty first; I only stood against her afterward.”
Olivier defended herself.
“If she had obediently followed the original plan—take the Natural Forest, assist Alandin in dominating the world—I would have gladly provided all the support Alandin could offer.”
“But you’ve seen the result. Now she wants to release a dangerous god.”
“With the Saint-Vienne bloodline already gone and the other three gods too busy to care for themselves, do you think anyone in this world can stop a revived god?”
Hearing her words, Gareth frowned deeply.
He had known this from the start.
He also understood that this was the last chance to stop the Sacred Tree’s revival.
If it had been Isabella or Leah proposing cooperation, he would have readily joined the battlefield.
But it had to be Olivier—a woman as alluring and deadly as the poppy.
The Young Master had already caught the scent of her hunt.
He couldn’t guarantee what would happen if they got any closer.
“Gareth, what are you hesitating about?”
A young voice, already brimming with authority, suddenly sounded from behind him.
Gareth’s fur bristled, then he resignedly lowered his head and respectfully bowed to the young wolf behind him.
“Young Master.”
“We meet again, Mr. Forge~”
Seeing her prey appear before her, Olivier immediately flashed a brilliant smile.
“I hope Gauis’s crude soul hasn’t affected your awakening.”
“When?”
Huh?
Olivier looked at him in confusion.
“I asked, when do we need to act?”
After devouring Gauis’s heart and completing his transformation, Forge had lost his former hesitation and excess emotions.
When he looked at Olivier, there was only one pure desire in his eyes.
The desire to kill.
Locked in his wolfish gaze, Olivier felt a flicker of fear.
The fear of being watched as prey.
“At the most critical moment.”
Olivier soothed her restless power and spoke gently.
“This time, I’ve prepared the Flame Meteor Twin Calamities for you. Both are experts who have been renowned for a thousand years.”
“To ensure you return triumphant, I will sound the horn of attack for you.”
Back to the present: the moment Forge charged out, Olivier immediately cut her fingertip.
The flying blood floated in her palm, and countless crimson lines spread from her hand across her entire body.
“Let Prime Blood water the Thirsty Altar; the Eternal Lord of the Brass Fortress grants me the power to crush the throats of the weak.”
As Olivier’s blood seeped from her fingertip, an unspeakable terror instantly enveloped the entire battlefield.
Blood rain fell from the sky; blood plasma oozed from the ground.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of copper rust and burnt flesh.
Even the soldiers’ weapons grew serrated fangs, loudly singing a wild hymn.
A thousand years ago, that hymn belonged to the strongest legion on the continent.
“That’s the Hymn of the God of War! How can a human have the right to sound the Horn of the God of War?!”
Kaibole’s eyes nearly popped out.
The Hymn of the God of War had a powerful mental contamination.
Any race other than orcs who heard it would suffer severe mental trauma.
Kaibole had once led a legion to join an orc legion in attacking a town of the Saint-Vienne Empire.
Because the imperial defender was especially tenacious, they spent an entire week without breaching it.
So the orc priest sounded the Horn of the God of War.
That was a brutal battle.
The berserk orcs slaughtered every living thing in sight without distinguishing friend from foe.
When the city fell, not a single survivor remained.
His own legion had been torn apart by the orcs—nine-tenths of them were dead, and the remaining tenth had completely lost combat capability, eventually dying under endless core armor.
But only the favored ones of the God of War had the right to sound such a horn.
How could Olivier do it?!
No!
That wasn’t what he should be thinking about now!
“Everyone! Block your ears with mana or douqi!”
He shouted at the crowd, but it was too late.
Many people’s minds had already been dragged into the Brass Fortress, filled with blood and corpses.
Their bodies trembled.
Their wills were collapsing.
Their blood was flowing backward from fear.
“Universal Light!!!”
At the critical moment, Winnidith raised her staff and released pure holy light.
On her shoulder, a transparent cat flicked its tail irritably, its throat rumbling a low threat at the bloodlines appearing on their mental bodies.
Under the cleansing of the holy light, those affected by the Hymn of the God of War gradually regained mental clarity.
But when they looked at the battlefield, their thoughts uncontrollably recalled that Brass Fortress, and their bodies trembled uncontrollably.
“Olivier, I hope you consider the cost before using your strange divine arts.”
Leah was unaffected.
As the Archdemon of the Sacred Tree, her status was still second only to the gods.
The mere horn sounded by Olivier was not enough to pollute her mind.
“But the effect is great, isn’t it?”
Olivier smiled calmly.
The endless meteor swarm in the sky had stopped falling.
Sensing the danger to their lives, Feiniyasi and Bolin finally stopped their magic incantations and instead combined their efforts to cast a defensive spell against Forge’s assault.
By then, Forge no longer looked human at all.
His claws were as long as a man’s head.
Every breath he exhaled carried the sweet stench of blood and the reek of burnt flesh.
But this defensive spell was no mere makeshift.
Facing the full strength of two Nine-Order Mages, even after being enhanced by the Hymn of the God of War, he found it difficult to break through.
“Not enough yet…”
Seeing Forge’s claws unable to pierce the defensive magic, Olivier squeezed out a second drop of essence blood.
“Let the Spirit-Storing Blood overflow into the Cup of Pleasure; the Land of Extreme Bliss will appear within the cup.”
That was the Prayer of the Holy Tree!
But no matter how shocked they were, Olivier had already poured all her mana into this drop of blood.
The pink lines covering her body shone as brightly as the stars in the sky.
“In the name of the Lord of Pleasure, stop!”
Elaril was astonished to find that her control over Feiniyasi and the other two had been forcibly interrupted for one second.
Kaibole and Weilan exchanged glances, both seeing surprise in each other’s eyes.
A human—able to use the divine power of both the God of War and the Sacred Tree at the same time?
What was going on?!
They suddenly recalled the Non-Aggression Pact signed a thousand years ago between the Duke of Alandin and the Three-Race Alliance.
Could there be secrets hidden within that even they didn’t know?
That one second was enough to decide the outcome.
Deprived of mana supply, the first crack appeared in the defensive magic.
Then that crack spread rapidly like a spiderweb until it shattered into countless splinters, reflecting the wolf’s terrifying gaze.
“Now! Winnidith, Arns, Uncle Etheriel—let’s go!”
Leah had finally waited for this moment.
She shot out from the crowd.
Hearing her voice, the other three immediately followed behind her, using the safe passage created by Gareth and Forge to speed toward the deepest part of the City of Emerald Shadows.
The Holy Ground.
Crack!