Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 939 Meeting Erlton

Erlton wore a soft smile before strumming a last, sharp note on his lute. Still, he didn't speak, however, even after being called out by the Hybrid Luman.

Skullius was a little annoyed by the man's demeanour.

He could feel the Sif he had travelled with struggling between their respect for him, and that which they had for Erlton because of the sheer degree of power he held, which outclassed the Incandescent Stage by far.

Skullius could feel it as well.

The mana around him was screaming and fleeing away from the modest bench the Herald sat. He could almost hear its voice.

The hunched sycamores – so thick that ten men could surround them with linked hands and still not be able to fully conquer one – which were bowing in a perfect circle to the compound around the mansion a few meters away, also seemed to shiver at the presence of Erlton.

Skullius grew even more annoyed.

Rather than Erlton's demeanour....

Rather than his power....

Rather than the fact he had spilled his secrets to others...

It was the fact the he was what he was that irked the Hybrid Luman so.

"I was waiting for you, Festos," Erlton suddenly said without looking at the group. Then, with a different tone that implied that he switched focus, he then said, "Why don't you all go on ahead? We'll be following in soon enough."

The four behind Skullius hesitated and looked at him.

Sensing their gaze, Skullius nodded and soon they disappeared behind a set of double doors that had no reason being fifteen times larger than the average Sif, their frames covered by verdant green roots sprouting roses of similar pigments.

What preceded the doors was a set of large, pristine white steps which seemed to be layered with white glass. The same material coiled around the large fountain and smothered everything else that came before the great mansion in a perfect circle.

"Come sit, will you? I know you have things to get off your chest," Erlton said.

Skullius narrowed his eyes suspiciously but he still walked forth and sat on the dark bench with the Herald.

A soft light livid within the shiny glass under his feet reflected into his and Erlton's faces ominously.

"I suppose you weren't particularly fond of me telling your friends what you were?" he said with a soft voice that could have been mistaken for a whisper.

"Not particularly, no," Skullius said.

Erlton gave a muffled chortle.

"There's only so many ways you can make man and Sif belief that the monstrous, charcoal-black skeleton sleeping in the back room is just a friendly, misunderstood soul, you know."

"Misunderstood?"

"Would you have appreciated it if I made you sound a little more sweet? An ancient romantic scouring world after world for his true love?"

"A darker lie would have done much more good."

Erlton strummed another note. Surprisingly, it sounded sad.

"I thought you would be alright with telling them the truth. They matter to you, right? Surely you would have done anything to have them stay by your side," he said.

Skullius' eye twitched.

"There you go again, painting me as some kind of pathetic man who needs to be understood or pitied," he growled with note of fury.

"Why does that make you so angry? I thought having willing company that didn't melt before your eyes was something you always wanted."

The Hybrid Luman's eye turned to Erlton sharply.

"So you know more, after all..." he said dangerously.

Erlton gave him a side glance.

"Indeed, I do. So much more..."

There was a brief stretch of silence.

A cold, rigid silence.

Skullius knew exactly what Erlton was insinuating, but he didn't allow it to become the prevailing subject. As he felt before, it was evident that Erlton's knowledge was still limited. He was content leaving it at that.

"Seeing as you're all-powerful and supposedly all-knowing, why is it that you have yet to do anything about the situation in Pelian or the forces of Maqi coming to cause needless chaos on Opungale?" he asked.

Erlton lost some of the lustre in his eyes and some of the spark in his demeanour.

"Some things aren't mine alone to control," he said.

"Every cowardly authority I've known has pretty much said the same thing in their own way. What makes your version different?" Skullius attacked.

Erlton took a deep breath.

"You've found your own handle against me," he said with a soft laugh. "I can't stop what's happening... what's about to happen in Pelian. The ones who granted me my powers ordained it to be so. I could never go against it. As for Maqi... I had just gone on a trip to straighten that issue out."

Skullius raised a brow.

"To Maqi?" he asked with an odd level of interest.

"No. To the one who manufactured Maqi's hate for Opungale," Erlton said.

Skullius frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Erlton wore a bitter smile.

"Some time ago, this world was broken, falling apart. Many forces invaded and killed, stole and tortured as they pleased. Then, one of the olden Heralds stopped it. He mended the Rules that had been broken – giving leeway to atrocities – with his great, flame breath. However, in his success, there was also failure. He burnt the air that made living beings so powerful and special back in those days, and distorted time as well as memory."

"Throughout the millenia, I and other Heralds reforged the broken flow of time and the jumbled memories. I admit, there were things we rewrote in order to maintain order..."

"Like the fact that the Giants lost the First Grand War?" Skullius suddenly said sharply.

Erlton was startled.

The questioning look on his face lingered, but then it dissolved into a knowing smile.

"Right... You've met a Giant..." he said with a tone of amusement. "Indeed. Like that. However, each of us had ideals we wished to propagate. We had our own views of the greater good. One of us believed... believes that sowing chaos every now and then is good for the four nations. To accelerate an age of warriors of the olden calibre, he thinks it is necessary for there to always be conflict."

Skullius folded his arms.

Conflict, ey?

Fascinating.

As far as he was concerned, it wasn't entirely invalid, especially given the wide gulf in strength between those from the Grand Wars and those of this era.

The Six Houses and some of the more powerful Families of Pelian were products of the desperation that brewed in that time, when the Giants came and when...

"So then, I take it you and this other Herald can't interfere with each other's plans?" Skullius asked.

"We could. However, fighting another Herald will only sow more chaos. And well... I'm not the most competent in battles. I prefer Divination and guidance," Erlton said.

"Is that right? And what if a powerful threat arises. One that can't be handled by your peers alone?" Skullius sneered.

Erlton looked at him.

"Not every problem can be dealt with by being competent in a fight, Festos. For instance, no amount of punching will repair Aigas in the state it is in right now."

Skullius recoiled. Erlton wasn't talking about the cases he knew about.

"What state do you mean?" he asked.

Erlton wore another bitter smile before sighing.

"As we speak, Aigas is drifting as two separate pieces. A chunk of it has been isolated."