Chapter 599: Twisted Persuasion

599. Twisted Persuasion (2)

“I want to make a deal with you.”

Unbent Knee, through the corpse, made this proposal to Oliver.

Oliver tilted his head in confusion at the sudden offer.

But then he realized something.

“Your purpose was to meet me, wasn’t it?”

Perhaps due to life in Randa or recent events, Oliver quickly caught on.

Maybe it was because for the first time, Oliver began to see himself as part of the world.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but until recently, the world had always felt separate from him.

Anyway, Oliver looked over Unbent Knee, the new prince candidate whose body was marred by blotches and whose leg had turned into pure muscle, to see if his guess was right.

Unfortunately, Oliver’s guess was correct.

Unbent Knee answered in silence and with emotions.

“Hmm…”

Involuntarily, Oliver let out a murmur. Unbent Knee then moved his hands.

He seemed to be communicating in sign language.

Oliver suddenly remembered that the prince candidate couldn’t speak properly.

Apologizing, Oliver said he didn’t understand sign language, so Unbent Knee used the ring and corpse to talk again.

“Surprised?”

It was a question whether Oliver was surprised.

Not sure how to respond, Oliver just looked at Unbent Knee.

Surprised… Honestly, Oliver couldn’t deny it.

Meeting a Red One Warlock from the First Step Colony in the New Continent here in the Old Continent was something he never expected.

Honestly, he didn’t even expect Unbent Knee to be alive.

After all, his tribe had died alongside Fen while summoning the demon.

That night was still vivid in Oliver’s memory.

Remembering over a hundred people burning like logs.

The Red Ones beating drums and dancing around the flames.

The screams from the Red One girl giving birth to the demon that brought death.

And then, the Burned One, born from all those sacrifices.

It was such a chaotic situation that Oliver didn’t have time to think, so he assumed all the Red Ones had perished, which many of them actually did.

Yet, one remained alive, standing before him now.

Unexpectedly, this survivor had taken on the form of a prince candidate under the Swan Sect.

A long silence filled the space as Oliver sorted through his thoughts.

The silence was dense like soil, making it hard for anyone to break. Yet for Oliver, it was easy to speak.

“Honestly, I am surprised. I didn’t think Unbent Knee would be a new prince candidate, nor did I expect to meet you here. Most of all…”

Taking a breath, Oliver then continued.

“…I’m even more surprised that you’d propose a deal to me.”

And he meant it.

Because Unbent Knee still harbored intense hatred towards him.

Not just the simple enmity between enemies, but deep, specific, and profound hatred, like one would have towards an arch-nemesis.

It made sense since Oliver had disrupted Unbent Knee whether in the skirmish during Lieutenant General Philip’s assault or the demon summoning.

“…Even I didn’t expect it at first, but now, I understand.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Oliver, feeling uneasy about Unbent Knee’s last statement, questioned him. But Unbent Knee didn’t answer.

“My apologies, but we don’t have much time.”

He explained they didn’t have time for extensive talk.

The City Guard of Bean City was already on its way.

Given his preparation, it was clear he wanted a secret discussion. Since Oliver also had questions, he followed the conversation flow.

“What kind of deal do you want to propose?”

Oliver asked, wanting to know why he was called here so secretly and with such effort.

Perhaps it was due to his heightened sensitivity from recent experiences that he found himself very curious. The answer shocked him.

“Please, don’t interfere with us.”

‘Don’t interfere?’ It was so vague that Oliver didn’t understand.

Unbent Knee then elaborated further.

“Please don’t interfere with the matters of the Swan Sect. From now on, we’ll lie low.”

Accompanied by a voice seemingly squeezed from the corpse’s vocal cords, the remaining prince candidate’s will was spoken.

Upon hearing that, Oliver had much to say. For example, why was he telling him that?

After all, if left alone, Oliver wouldn’t engage in any hostilities.

But instead, Oliver asked a more fundamental question.

A question whose answer would, in a way, be the only answer.

“What exactly is it that you’re planning that would require me not to interfere?”

Indeed, Unbent Knee’s request was full of contradictions.

If they were really going to lie low, there’d be no need to ask him not to interfere.

And considering the current situation, where other prince candidates were being eliminated, gathering power like this hardly matched the intent to ‘lie low.’

Even Jack, the mayor, was concerned about the city’s security, as were the lower-ranking City Guards.

Above all, the Swan Sect itself being a group that worships apocalypse and demons made it impossible for Oliver to ignore.

‘And Unbent Knee has a history of summoning demons.’

Complicated thoughts of a chaotic dark magic society, with swan sect activities suddenly surging, along with Unbent Knee’s presence.

As all these factors intertwined like threads of a fabric, Oliver felt a strange sense of tension.

And so, he bluntly asked.

“Are you planning to bring about the apocalypse?”

“Yes.”

***

Yes.

Unbent Knee answered without hesitation when asked if he planned to bring about an apocalypse.

There wasn’t just a lack of hesitation. It was as if he had been waiting for that question. Even Oliver was slightly taken aback.

Indeed, Unbent Knee had summoned a demon at First Step to burn the entire city, but bringing about the apocalypse was on a completely different scale.

This wasn’t something that should be answered so nonchalantly.

“What’s your reason? No matter what–”

“Does the reason… really matter?”

The corpse of the former prince candidate, with fingers torn off, interrupted Oliver.

“…Doesn’t it matter? I’m talking about the apocalypse.”

Oliver emphasized the gravity of the word ‘apocalypse.’

The end of everything. Though easy to utter, it was not a word to be spoken lightly.

It literally meant the end of all things. In simpler terms, it meant the death of every human.

Men, women, youth, the elderly, the frail, the healthy—all dead.

Even children who didn’t understand anything, and the unborn in their mothers’ wombs, would die.

All without knowing what happened.

If you wanted to visualize it, imagine a child enjoying ice cream in the park, suddenly getting shot in the head. And not just shot—their parents watch as it happens.

Even Oliver found that pretty disturbing, which was why he had tried so hard to stop the Burned One in First Step.

Sure, First Step was a city built on sin, but that didn’t justify torching it and killing innocent people in the flames.

Especially since even the Red Ones, who were victims, would be in those flames.

That was just destruction. It might have been enjoyable, but in essence, it was unproductive—just impulsive destruction.

Oliver personally didn’t like it.

And yet now Unbent Knee wanted to bring about an even greater apocalypse and claimed that the reason didn’t matter. That was far too much.

“Call it hatred.”

As if reading Oliver’s thoughts, Unbent Knee offered an explanation, unprompted.

“I… lost everything. My entire tribe… wiped out.”

The scene of the Burned One’s summoning flashed through Oliver’s mind. The site where everyone had died.

“So why… would I not wish for the apocalypse?”

Having lost everything, Unbent Knee insisted that he now wanted to erase everything.

It was a simple reason, and perhaps because it was so simple, it was hard to refute.

Maybe it was the intensity of his emotions.

Emotions so vivid, so intense, that they even appeared beautiful.

Oliver found it hard to deny those emotions altogether, so he decided to approach the situation differently.

“I understand your desire, but why do you think I would agree to this deal?”

“Because… you will.”

With more than just conviction, Unbent Knee’s response made Oliver pause. ‘You will?’

“At first… I didn’t… understand either. But now… I do. They said… telling you this… would convince you.”

‘Convince me?’ Oliver thought. It seemed like there was someone behind Unbent Knee.

The name Puppet immediately came to mind.

After all, it was Puppet who had taken the prince candidate Oliver fought, away.

Oliver became curious. Why was Puppet so confident Oliver would accept such a ludicrous offer? And why did Unbent Knee also believe this?

“Now… that I see you in person… I understand.”

“What do you mean?”

Oliver’s shadow twitched.

He commanded the shadow to calm him down along with his emotions.

Very, very carefully. At that moment, Unbent Knee made a declaration.

“I will… become a prince… Like in the apocalypse. I… will be that prince.”

“…”

“I will punish… this world filled with evil, with my own hands. Before the world… forgets, I’ll open… the gates of hell… and bring it to an end. Even if… I have to steal the authority… by force… and drape it over myself!”

His voice grew louder, and with that, cold blood and flesh spewed out.

The sight was gruesome. But instead of revulsion, Oliver felt a kind of shock that hit him like a punch to the brain, as well as a powerful temptation.

“The prince… from the apocalypse… There will be only one! I… will be… that prince. And then–”

With his voice growing louder, and his vocal cords reaching their limit, even more blood and flesh poured out onto the ground. The fallen prince candidate’s neck was now completely shattered.

So destroyed, it could no longer be used.

Luckily, Oliver had heard everything Unbent Knee wanted to say.

As evidence, Unbent Knee made no further attempt at communication.

He didn’t use sign language, nor did he bring out a new corpse, just stared at Oliver.

Another heavy silence pressed down on the room.

The difference now was that Oliver too could feel the weight and density.

This was a crucial offer for Oliver. Perhaps, it was because it was for him.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

The silence was so intense that it felt like he could hear the ticking of a clock. After what seemed like hundreds of ticks, Oliver finally spoke.

“Under one condition.”

Unbent Knee responded in sign language.

[Go ahead.]

***

“What just happened?”

Captain Mero of Bean City’s City Guard.

While following the strategy and serving as bait against the monsters of the Cursed Land and the fanatics of the Swan Sect, he witnessed them retreat and asked.

Both were extremely dangerous, and as proof, they had inflicted significant damage on their side.

Two of the military vehicles brought along were destroyed, and eight subordinates were lost, including the guide from the Swan Sect.

The guide’s body was mutilated with saws, axes, and stakes; it was a horrifying sight, as if he had been punished for betrayal.

Yet, Mero remained focused and unfazed by the scene.

He had two key questions. The first was why the monsters of the Cursed Land only attacked them and not the fanatics of the Swan Sect.

Initially, everyone was too rushed to notice, but it was certainly strange.

The monsters had always attacked both the people of Bean City and the Swan Sect equally, serving as a kind of border guard.

But in the recent attack, the monsters didn’t touch the fanatics. Instead, they seemed to cooperate, albeit clumsily.

This was a matter that could potentially affect the future of Bean City.

And that wasn’t even the only thing that weighed on him.

“We still haven’t received any contact. Something must have happened.”

Jorge, one of his men, reported while holding the reply-less communication device.

It was tuned to the frequency Oliver had given to Dave, the fixer from Randa, who was supposed to give them some signal once he arrived.

Whether or not there was a prince candidate seeking asylum, they should have heard something by now.

The lack of any message made Mero worried.

But it didn’t seem like something bad had happened.

It was hard to imagine that the dark warlock who had tossed Captain Hook around in front of everyone would be unable to respond.

Maybe he was distracted by something else, but that seemed unlikely too.

Considering the rumors from Randa of Dave’s solid reputation and Jack’s sharp judgment in evaluating him, it didn’t seem like he was the type to neglect such a task.

Although, it was impossible to figure any of this out just by pondering.

Mero’s subordinates, thinking the same, were silently asking what they should do.

Did they think something had gone wrong and retreat?

Or should they take the risk and go check?

It didn’t take Mero long to decide.

They couldn’t return empty-handed, especially with the security of Bean City at stake.

Mero, while staying alert to their surroundings, loaded his remaining men into the surviving vehicles and prepared to respond quickly before heading towards the village ahead.

Despite the earlier rough battle, the engine made it to the village entrance safely.

Mero left only a minimum number of men ready to move and took the rest with him as he entered the village.

The place felt like a ghost town, with no sign of life. Mero soon found Dave there.

He was sitting in a chair next to a dead body, deep in thought.

Though it might have been just his imagination, Dave’s usually expressionless face seemed to be smiling.

A twisted smile filled with cowardice and self-rationalization.

Just as Mero was about to ask what happened, Dave raised his hand.

“The prince candidate requesting asylum passed away before I arrived. We were too late.”

Mero didn’t know how to react.

It was hard enough to process the fact that they had lost so vainly, but on top of that, Dave’s lack of emotional reaction made it impossible to tell if he was telling the truth.

“However, I did hear the Swan Sect’s intentions.”

“?”

“The Swan Sect has no intention of harming Bean City. They promised.”

At that moment, Mero felt, or thought he felt, a brief glimpse of emotion from the seemingly numb Dave.

Dave’s words were sincere, though twisted.