Ch.152152. Negotiation

Looking back, I think I’ve probably been a bit too fixated on the past.

I suddenly became a god and was thrust into such urgent situations that I’ve been drifting along in an awkward state, unable to properly sort out my identity.

I’ve managed to navigate immediate situations using my divine intelligence, but contradictorily, the knowledge I accumulated during my human days has become a lingering attachment.

There’s no way to return anyway, and there’s so much I can do without going back. Above all, divine power is far too alluring to consider returning….

The problem is… indeed the collision between two different positions and opposing values.

The subtle remnants of human order and moral concepts versus the overwhelming physical power of a god who can ignore such things.

The result of this conflict has made me quite indecisive until now, but that’s different now.

The point is, since I have the power anyway, I might as well honestly express my desires.

As long as I take responsibility for my actions and position, ultimately, whatever I do is my freedom.

So, with this enlightenment, I—

《The capital city and its surrounding areas are mine. Speak if you have any objections.》

At the evil gods’ meeting, held to settle accounts for this invasion plan, I declared, shamelessly revealing the arrogance hidden within me.

※ ※ ※

After my declaration, no one could refute my words.

Currently, I am a god who has personally killed more than half (seven) of the 12 main gods, and by absorbing their power, I’ve reached a level comparable to the 12 main gods at their prime.

Because of this, they—the evil gods at the meeting—were afraid.

They feared I might simply kill them outright or perhaps use the remaining gods to throw some grand feast.

In reality, my power is indeed sufficient to annihilate them all, and there are plenty of gods who would gladly join me in enjoying a party with divine flesh if I proposed such cooperation.

The truth is, I don’t particularly want to make enemies of the evil gods openly.

The evil gods are, simply put, the type I don’t especially want as allies, but also shouldn’t turn into enemies.

Their unique method of spreading faith by infiltrating among those dissatisfied with existing society and destroying it from within may never become mainstream, but it’s enough for sabotage.

Also, if their believers’ forces were to engage in all-out war, they would at least have overwhelming numbers, so even if I didn’t lose, I would suffer damage that would be difficult to recover from.

Or if someone tried to descend directly to the mortal realm with some ulterior motive—there’s much to lose, but not much power to gain by actually doing it.

Considering how most evil gods show cockroach-level survival instincts, it’s extremely troublesome to make them open enemies on the front lines.

But that doesn’t mean I want to treat them with particular respect either, nor should I.

Evil gods are generally opportunistic groups that follow the strong and bully the weak; taking a submissive stance would only result in being ignored and treated like a pathetic fool.

So the image I need to maintain is that of a big boss.

Someone who oppresses other organization members (evil gods) with authority, power, and violence, while also resolving matters without actually wielding that power.

《Ah, of course, I’m not asking you to just give it up for nothing.》

And as part of this stance, I adopted the carrot and stick as my basic negotiation method.

《Since the seven of us, the leaders of this meeting, originally promised to divide the capital, I’ll ensure you’re compensated adequately so you won’t feel shortchanged.》

In other words, I apply pressure mixed with threats to the entire group, but then share the benefits with only some of them, making them accomplices.

Since the evil gods’ meeting is not so much a single unified force as it is a collection of numerous minor powers gathered under one big tent.

This kind of ally recruitment strategy ensures I won’t lose at the very least, and it can bring considerable advantage in seizing control of this patchwork big tent.

《Of course, I don’t intend to just tell everyone else to back off.》

I decided to be a bit more bold.

《You’re aware that the empire’s main force is returning from beyond, aren’t you?》

《…That’s right.》

《Yes, that’s correct~♡》

《(Yes, I’m well aware.)》

《I will personally deploy forces to deal with them. However—you must cooperate as well.》

The moment I said that, their expressions changed noticeably, as expected.

《Only you, Mosquito Monarch, will directly deploy troops. That was our contract.》

《…That’s right.》

《In exchange, the rest of you will ‘properly’ hand over your faith. You know what happens if I can’t stop them, don’t you?》

I made my proposal, and they had no choice but to follow it, however reluctantly.

After all, the only force with any real chance of stopping the most powerful mortal army at this point is realistically my soldiers.

※ ※ ※

Bjorn sat dazed in thought, gripping his greatsword with both hands.

He was sitting atop the mangled corpse of Plutos, the God of Death—a massive skeletal figure in a black robe, holding a scythe.

The battle with Plutos had been extremely quiet, yet at the same time more intense than expected.

In any case, Bjorn had fought against him and claimed victory.

Of course, perhaps as the price for victory.

The full-body adamantium armor Bjorn had been wearing was considerably damaged after the fierce battle.

Both pauldrons, the helmet, and the leg parts were not intact, and the greaves were also damaged.

So Bjorn was sitting absentmindedly on the ruins, somehow troubled by the damage to his armor, which could be considered a longtime comrade—

Thud, thud, thud.

Then, the distinctive sound of metal-reinforced military boots began to reach Bjorn’s ears.

“…Who goes there?”

Naturally, Bjorn didn’t hide his hostility at all, thinking they might be remnants of the Imperial Legion, and turned his head.

“O, O Apostle!”

“Apostle of the Bleeding God of Vengeance!”

“The Chosen Avenger!!”

The people he encountered were not hostile but rather a group of about 60 individuals completely covered in black armor, crying tears of joy despite sensing his hostility.

Among this group, armed mainly with axes, swords, and shields, Bjorn noticed they all had a certain emblem engraved on their breastplates.

Though its form had changed somewhat, it was unmistakably the emblem of the Vengeance Order.

“…Are you also servants of the Lord of Vengeance?”

When Bjorn asked with somewhat reduced hostility, these people began to wail simply because he had spoken to them.

Bjorn’s expression showed slight disgust at this seemingly fanatical behavior, and at that moment, someone who looked different from the others stepped forward.

“We are honored to meet the foremost servant of the Great Bleeding God of Vengeance.”

“And you are?”

“I am Persha, standard-bearer of the Order’s Sacred Assault Unit and the leader of these humble sinners.”

The man, holding a beautiful battle standard in one hand, knelt and greeted him. His manner was respectful but not servile, and simultaneously showed deep faith and shame…?

“I see. …But why would a fine warrior like yourself feel shame?”

This wasn’t just flattery.

The Persha that Bjorn saw was an excellent warrior with deeply rooted humility and fine skill behind his solemn yet splendid armor.

His equipment, though clearly used for a considerable time, was still in excellent condition, and the battle standard—a sacred battle standard—also showed signs of being beautifully maintained.

And decisively, with his enhanced sensing abilities from absorbing gods’ souls, Bjorn could feel the record of achievements this man had accumulated.

So when Bjorn asked this question, Persha hesitated for a moment.

“…Yes. Because we are sinners.”

He calmly spoke of their sin—blasphemy—as if confessing to him.

“Our Sacred Assault Unit is a unit of blasphemers, sinners who have misinterpreted the will of God. So please, treat us as lowly—”

“—Standard-bearer Persha, do not speak such words.”

Bjorn, who had been listening to Persha’s confession with displeasure, interrupted and countered his words.

“I don’t know how severe your sin is, but in any case, blasphemy is indeed a sin.”

“That’s right. So—”

“—However! No one can deny your efforts toward your God of Vengeance, and the same applies to all of you.”

“…Pardon?”

These people seemed somewhat surprised by his words, but Bjorn had his reasons for speaking this way.

“It’s often said that faith itself is a reward, but who would dare insult someone like you who has received sacred artifacts as lowly? Even if directed at oneself, such insults cannot be forgiven.”

“…Is, is that so?”

To Persha, who asked with a trembling voice, Bjorn calmly declared.

“That will to repent and atone for your sins—that alone makes you admirable people. So, at the very least, I recognize your dedication and pay my respects.”

Having perceived that they had engaged in several battles on their way here, Bjorn offered them praise with complete sincerity and without any exaggeration.

“Th-thank you…”

In response to Bjorn’s words, there seemed to be the sound of someone sobbing.