Chapter 75
Chapter 75
Episode 75
Fenrir strode forward with heavy steps.
His face was twisted in displeasure as he glared down at Aiden and Saya, his golden eyes brimming with competitive hostility. Yet despite his seething aggression, the wolf couldn't bring himself to attack Aiden.
There was only one reason.
The gumiho.
To Fenrir, she looked unbearably happy.
With that radiant expression and those shining eyes, even the wolf had no choice but to believe the Grand Temple's records. Saya's suicide had undoubtedly been the absolute truth, without a shred of deception.
The natural right of beasts—that only the strongest male could claim a female—could no longer be asserted in this situation.
If Aiden were to die, it was painfully obvious what would happen to Saya.
The lineage of the beastkin and spirits might wither away entirely.
The wolf found this entire scenario deeply irritating and frustrating.
Whether she sensed his feelings or not, Saya remained nestled in Aiden's arms, whispering sweet nothings without sparing Fenrir so much as a glance.
Aiden looked up at the wolf and spoke.
"Don't just stand there. Sit down."
If the others across the lake caught sight of this scene, it would be problematic.
Aiden trusted Siron and Yuriel well enough, but he couldn't say the same for the remaining fifty executioners.
That was why he had bitten them when reviving Saya.
Fenrir scowled but reluctantly plopped down in the reeds.
Aiden began.
"I have a proposal for you. One you've already heard before."
The matter of elevating the gumiho to the status of the beastkin's sole deity.
At the moment of Saya's death, Fenrir had likely forgotten all about that deal.
So Aiden needed to remind him.
The wolf listened silently before narrowing his eyes.
In exchange for slaughtering the young spirits of other tribes, Aiden would abolish the beastkin slave system and help Saya bloom her tails into divinity.
It made no sense.
The wolf growled.
"And what do you gain from this?"
"I gain the beastkin."
"Worthless. That's idiotic."
Saya's blissful expression instantly frosted over. Her gaze locked onto Fenrir.
"Respect him. He's my man."
Defiance flickered across Fenrir's face. She was still just a beastkin, not yet a goddess.
He replied in a voice thick with resentment.
"...Lady Saya, you have no authority to command me."
Saya slowly rose from Aiden's lap and stepped forward until she was nose-to-nose with Fenrir.
"But I do have the right to slit your throat."
Her claws rested against the wolf's Adam's apple. Though Fenrir held the physical advantage, attacking her was out of the question.
Her voice dripped with icy venom.
"Respect Aiden."
The White Wolf King's pride refused to let him lower his tail. Yet he couldn't show hostility toward the gumiho either, so he simply bit down hard on his own lip.
As the silent standoff between monarch and spirit stretched on, Aiden intervened.
"Both of you, enough."
He gently pulled Saya back by the wrist and seated her beside him again.
The killing intent dissipated—Saya was too afraid of defying Aiden now.
She simply let his soothing touch calm her emotions.
Aiden regarded Fenrir with composed patience.
"There's an insurmountable rift between beastkin and humans. Or more accurately, between the Empire and beastkin."
Before the Empire settled on the continent, humans and beastkin had coexisted.
It wouldn't be wrong to say the Empire had sparked the conflict between the two races.
Fenrir stole a glance at Saya before muttering.
"That's trivial nonsense."
"True. Meaningless now, at any rate. Abolishing slavery isn't meant to wash away your hatred either."
"Then why make such an offer? Your words contradict themselves."
"For both races to survive."
The true enemy of humans and beastkin wasn't each other—it was the demons.
Aiden continued without pause.
"I won't explain further. Just act in your own self-interest. This deal won't harm you. Even a beast should have enough brains to understand that."
Fenrir already grasped the implications well enough.
If the gumiho—a spirit of the beastkin—became their deity, and their enslaved brethren were freed, Fenrir would indisputably become the greatest White Wolf King in history.
At its core, it was that simple.
Only one thing nagged at him.
Saya herself.
If that woman ascended to godhood, she might bleed their kin dry to serve Aiden.
But there was nothing the wolf could do about that.
He needed insurance.
Fenrir decided he would spare one of the young spirits from another tribe—someone who could serve as Saya's replacement if necessary.
Even if the substitute wasn't a beastkin spirit, it was better than the extinction of their entire race.
The wolf's priorities were clear: the Black Wolves first, the beastkin as a species second.
Having settled his thoughts, Fenrir spoke.
"Whether your motives are pitch-black or not, this deal is beneficial to me. But don't ask for anything more."
There was a high chance Aiden would exploit this arrangement to demand further concessions.
Fenrir intended to draw the line now.
Aiden nodded.
"Then I'll take that as acceptance?"
The wolf bared his fangs in a smirk.
"Abolishing slavery? I doubt it's possible, but struggle all you like. I'll handle my part."
He could believe Saya's ascension, but the emancipation of slaves seemed utterly unrealistic.
Fenrir had no expectations for the latter. Regardless of Aiden's success, the wolf stood to lose nothing.
Aiden spoke again.
"I'll say it once more—kill all of them. If you understand, go do your job."
The wolf laughed inwardly.
If Aiden had demanded the corpses of the young spirits, it would've been troublesome—but he hadn't.
Perhaps the human wasn't as meticulous as he seemed.
Fenrir pushed himself up and replied.
"My fangs are already watering. After devouring them all, I'll come find you."
"Good. Now disappear."
The wolf bristled at being dismissed like that but could do nothing about it.
He shot Aiden one last murderous glare before turning away.
Once Fenrir had vanished, Saya—who had been lost in thought—slowly spoke up.
"Aiden, should I follow the wolf?"
"No need."
Aiden had already anticipated that Fenrir wouldn't slaughter every spirit.
His divine senses had confirmed as much.
Most likely, the wolf would seal away or force a few younglings into hibernation.
If Saya ever became a malevolent deity threatening the beastkin as a whole, Fenrir would need a contingency plan.
It was a logical decision for the White Wolf King—and precisely why Aiden hadn't killed him.
The wolf was competent and powerful enough to be useful.
Besides, the scenario Fenrir feared would never come to pass.
Aiden had no intention of using the beastkin as human shields.
From now on, beastkin and humans would stand as equals. Only by establishing that premise could they prepare for the future.
In short, one or two young spirits wouldn't threaten Saya's position as their goddess.
Unaware of these calculations, Saya tilted her head in silent question.
Aiden smoothed her silver hair and answered.
"No matter what Fenrir does, your place won't be shaken."
Saya smirked.
"Your side? That's the only place I care about."
"That one won't be shaken either, but I meant your divine seat. Saya, you must become a benevolent goddess."
She wrapped her arms around Aiden's neck.
"As long as you're with me, I can do anything. I don't care about being a goddess, but since you want it... I'll try my best."
She pressed a light kiss to his lips before giggling.
Aiden wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her right then, but his extreme mental fortitude thankfully anchored his reason.
Taking a steadying breath, he spoke.
"Saya, head straight for the Giant's Forest."
Her expression dimmed slightly.
"You're not coming with me?"
"I have something to take care of first. Once I wrap things up, I'll follow. Finish your discussion with Elquidora."
"...I want to stay with you."
Aiden lifted her in his arms as he stood.
"We'll have more than enough time together soon. Don't worry—go on ahead."
Though her face still showed reluctance, Saya didn't protest further.
She simply hugged him tightly one last time before stepping onto the ground.
Her melodic voice caressed his ears as she met his eyes.
"I love you."
His heart itched with warmth, but he kept his tone measured.
"Me too."
"Me too what?"
"I love you."
"I'm happy."
With those words, Saya rose onto her toes to kiss him again before turning toward the eastern woodlands.
Aiden sank into contemplation.
Reviving Saya and solidifying their relationship had disrupted part of his plans—though in a positive way.
His connection with Fenrir had grown far stronger, his approach to the spirit Elquidora had been simplified, and most crucially, he no longer needed to waste time searching for another goddess candidate.
The problem lay with the Empire's leadership.
They couldn't possibly understand the value of these gains—not when they couldn't see the future.
All they would perceive was that Aiden and Fenrir had vanished together during the extermination mission, and Fenrir had survived unscathed.
That fact alone would unsettle them.
Of course, the military wouldn't dare detain Aiden for interrogation.
At present, he was Vacheksar's emissary and the greatest contributor to the northern war effort.
In short, the protagonist of the scriptures also happened to be a war hero.
But if the imperial family got involved, the situation would change.
They could easily use this pretext to suppress him.
If they pinned the blame on him for letting Fenrir escape, things could get messy.
After some deliberation, Aiden reached a decision.
He would accelerate his audience with the princess.
And before she ascended to the throne, he would slip a collar around her neck.
Of course, he had every confidence in making Raphelia the next emperor.
The crown prince wasn't even an option in Aiden's mind—the man's incompetence surpassed imagination, rendering him worthless even as a puppet ruler.
It was far better to seat someone capable on the throne.
Either way, Aiden intended to expedite that development.
His destination was the imperial capital. There was no time to stop by the northern front to deliver a report.
If he acquired a horse from a nearby territory and rode without rest, he could reach the capital within a week.
As he sprinted through the reeds, his sharp hearing caught voices—Yuriel and Siron's.
They should have already left, yet they remained on the opposite shore of the lake.
He was about to ignore them when the content of their conversation struck him as bizarre.
Aiden changed course and ran toward them.
The voices grew clearer, their figures coming into focus.
Siron was slowly drawing her halberd.
For some reason, Yuriel knelt trembling in the direction she faced.
Aiden questioned whether he was seeing reality.
The moment he called out to Siron and kicked off the ground, the massive double-bladed axe began its descent toward Yuriel's pale throat.