**Chapter 58: The Unexpected Extra**
No matter how they struggled, it was futile. The leaders were horrified.
In their respective kingdoms, they were top-tier warriors or mages, yet here they were, immobilized by mere pressure.
This power far exceeded their understanding of mortals!
At this point, even the slowest among them realized that Priest Oswald had deliberately orchestrated this—and he was no ordinary man.
“Oswald, why did you do this?! Are you… betraying our world?!” The knight commander forced the words out, his voice thick with pain and confusion.
Oswald, seemingly finished with his internal exchange, finally turned to look at the kneeling commander, his gaze serious.
A strange, almost playful expression crossed his face. “Don’t misunderstand. I’ve never betrayed anything.”
“Then what are you doing?! Why did you send those troops to draw that monster here?!” the shaman leader demanded sharply.
“Don’t you get it? I’ve lifted the suggestion. Think carefully,” he said, tapping his temple mockingly. “Do you… really know who Oswald is? Does a priest named Oswald even exist in this world?”
Their minds indeed held details about “Oswald”—his name, his role, even specifics about his involvement in the plan.
But upon closer inspection, their faces turned pale with horror.
All this information about Oswald seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, ingrained in their minds like common knowledge.
Beyond these key details, there was nothing else.
His past, his experiences, when or how he joined the allied forces… all these critical points were blurry. No one knew!
It was as if, amidst the gathering which defeated soldiers, an extra entity had abruptly appeared.
How could such a strange and conspicuous figure, wielding power far beyond mortal limits, have been so readily accepted as one of their own, entrusted with their lives and the fate of their world?!
A bone-deep chill crept up their spines.
“But… you can wield the power of the Sky God!” a priest blurted out, voice trembling with disbelief. “If you’re not a priest of the gods, how could you use divine power?! We’d know—it’s unmistakably the power of our world’s god!”
“Divine power, you mean this?” Oswald glanced at the agitated priest, a flicker of disdain in his eyes.
With a thought, he flipped his hand, and a transparent glass orb materialized in his palm.
Inside, all the kneeling natives saw a tiny figure frantically pounding against the orb’s walls, its silent roars futile, trapped in an unbreakable prison.
At the sight, not just the priests but the other leaders and even the soldiers outside trembled, letting out terrified wails.
Though the figure was shrunken, they recognized it instantly.
It was the Sky God they devoutly worshipped!
His statues adorned every kingdom in the plane, one of the twelve great gods all were taught to revere from childhood!
Despite his diminished size, the essence of a god—the aura of a higher being—was unmistakable to mortals at first glance.
Yet this mighty, even great, deity was now toyed with like a trinket, sealed in a tiny glass orb by an unknown entity, manipulated at will?!
“For a minor plane to produce a fourth-level being is impressive. I hear your God-King reached level five? Quite the experimental material,” Oswald said casually, toying with the orb as if appraising an object.
“Pity I was too slow and only managed to snag this birdman…”
Before he finished, a priest, overwhelmed by the mental blow, let out a wail and smashed his head into the ground, dead.
Oswald’s expression remained unchanged as he looked at the natives, their spirits and faith utterly shattered. He shook his head, seemingly bored by their weakness.
With a wave of his hand, the Sky God sealed in the orb was compressed further, and an identical orb split off.
“Here, this contains your god’s power. Find a few priests; it should allow communication. In the future, we’ll contact you through this.”
After speaking, he sank his consciousness inward, exchanging a few words with the high-ranking wizards of Noren Academy stationed outside the plane.
His figure then rippled like water in the air, fading until he vanished completely.
Inside the tent, only the kneeling natives remained, their faces ashen, drowned in despair.
And the transparent orb, glinting with eerie light, lay on the ground.
Their world, their god, their hope—all shattered in this moment.
They finally understood that what they faced wasn’t an “enemy” but a terrifying existence from a higher plane, wielding powers beyond their comprehension.
Their proud revenge plan had been, from the start, nothing but a meticulously designed game.
After a long silence, the old knight commander, once leader of the kingdom’s knights, shakily stood. He paused, then bent to pick up the transparent orb.
A priest tried to protest but shrank back under the commander’s sharp gaze.
“Are we… really going to follow their orders?” a shaman asked hoarsely.
The old knight closed his eyes in pain, his trembling hands betraying his turmoil. His voice rasped like rusted iron:
“This… is our world’s last hope.”