Elder Thaloren looked at Naga Swordmaster Orykas with a half-smile, half-sneer. "You think I was reminding him?"
"W-Wasn’t it?" Orykas blinked, clearly confused.
Thaloren sighed and shook his head, exasperated. "You really ought to use your brain more. Sometimes, brains are more useful than brute strength."
Then his eyes gleamed with a cold glint as he chuckled darkly.
"Those big shots up there—they want Sea King Maelthorak’s Primordial Force to grow stronger. You think the Lord of Emerald Castle doesn’t want the same thing?"
"No, he definitely does! He needs it—desperately!" Orykas said, catching on. "He’s a newly established independent lord. Sure, he’s got power and freedom now, but that also means he’s surrounded by enemies. No one wants to see a new power rise up and start carving out territory. And let’s not forget—he’s got three Crimson Ultimate heroes under his command!"
Orykas paused, frowning in confusion.
"But Elder Thaloren... what are you getting at?"
"Those three Crimson Ultimate heroes are his trump card, right? His biggest advantage. But the way you’re talking..."
"Exactly. They are his greatest asset," Thaloren nodded, his tone turning serious. "But don’t forget—they’re still young."
Orykas blinked again, clearly not following.
Young? What does that have to do with anything?
"You really don’t get it, do you..." Thaloren sighed, disappointment flickering across his face. Then he continued, voice low and deliberate.
"When we Abyssan Naga are at our peak, we’re the signature 12-Tier unit of the Tidesworn faction. But when we’re weak? We’re just prey—training fodder for other 12-Tier units to sharpen their blades on."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"It’s the same with Crimson Ultimate heroes. Until they’ve truly matured, until they’ve grown into their power, they’re not gods. Not yet. Right now, they’re just... potential. And potential, in the wrong eyes, is just another kind of prey."
Orykas opened his mouth, stunned. "But... Elder Thaloren, aren’t we part of a neutral faction? Isn’t killing each other forbidden?"
Thaloren let out a dry laugh and shook his head. "That rule’s for ordinary folks, Orykas. For the ones who still have something to lose."
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a near-whisper, laced with scorn.
"Tell me—if someone like Sea King Maelthorak, who’s already backed into a corner, staring death in the face... do you really think rules matter to him anymore? If killing someone—anyone—meant he could survive a little longer, you think he’d hesitate?"
He chuckled again, this time darker.
"If it gave him a shot at living, I bet he’d even try to assassinate an Overlord-tier powerhouse. He’s already dying—what’s he got to lose? Worst case? He dies a little sooner."
The moment those words left Elder Thaloren’s mouth, it was like a bolt of lightning struck Naga Swordmaster Orykas.
He stared at Thaloren in shock, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Elder Thaloren, you... you..."
"That’s why I keep telling you—use your damn head," Thaloren said coolly, his voice laced with disdain. "You thought I was warning him? Please. I was setting a trap."
He gave a cold, almost amused smile.
"You have to understand—one of his Crimson Ultimate heroes is a Kirin, the same race as Sea King Maelthorak. If he wants to grow stronger fast, then Maelthorak’s Primordial Force is a devil’s box he can’t avoid opening."
"But... but does he really have the guts to go up against all those powerful figures?" Orykas asked hesitantly.
Thaloren’s eyes narrowed. "Orykas, listen carefully. A lord with three Crimson Ultimate heroes—that kind of potential doesn’t come without ambition. And the more potential he has, the harder it is to suppress that ambition."
"Sure, staying put and not expanding isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But that kind of strategy usually belongs to factions that are already powerful, whose potential and resources are nearly tapped out. For a new, independent lord? Sitting still is a death sentence. The downsides far outweigh the benefits."
"That’s why, unless he’s a complete idiot, he’ll realize he has no choice but to fight for this chance—to claim the Primordial Force that could elevate his Crimson Ultimate heroes."
"And even if he fails, he’s still got a way out. Think about it—unless his heroes are heartless bastards, what do you think they’ll feel when they see their lord risk everything, fight tooth and nail, just to help them grow stronger?"
"Gratitude. Loyalty. A deeper bond."
"And the other two Crimson Ultimate heroes? They’ll see it too. They’ll feel it. That’s how you win hearts, Orykas. That’s how you build true loyalty."
"In fact, if he can trade one failed attempt for the unwavering loyalty of three Crimson Ultimate heroes, that’s a damn good deal. As long as those three are still with him, he’s never truly out of the game."
Thaloren paused for a moment, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
"And if he actually pulls it off? If he succeeds? He’ll become so much stronger."
His eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.
"So really, he only has three possible futures."
"First—he goes after Sea King Maelthorak, takes him down, and walks away the victor."
"Second—he tries, but fails."
"Third—he chickens out, doesn’t even try, and walks away." The most update n0vels are published on noᴠelfire.net
"But no matter which path he takes, our revenge is already done."
"Maybe he’s already figured out I’m playing him. But if he wins—if it’s the first outcome—he’ll have no choice but to thank me. Hell, he’ll owe me big. Because I gave him the intel. I gave him the edge."
"And if it’s the second outcome—he fails—then he pays the price. Simple as that."
"As for the third... well, sometimes, walking away isn’t up to you. Once you’re in the game, you don’t get to just leave. The board moves whether you want it to or not."
By the time he finished, Thaloren’s voice had risen, his tone fierce and impassioned. And then, just as suddenly, it dropped into a chilling calm.
A cold, murderous glint flickered in his eyes—so sharp, so icy, it made Orykas’s skin crawl and his blood run cold.