After the meeting ended, the eight remained in their seats, some chatting, others lost in thought, and most leaning back against the table. Mistaker focused on one small detail:
why Hermes and Huô were arguing again?
"Listen, giraffe," Hermes said, leaning back in his chair. "Why the hell did you drop the damn Gladius blueprints? Are you stupid?"
Huô glared at him.
"Listen carefully, Mr. Hermes. You don't speak to a lady like that, much less a queen. And, I lost those blueprints because I was very busy those days."
"Lady? But you're taller than a man. Those two meters don't make you look like a lady."
Forsaken looked at Hermes with a smile on his face, his eyes scanning him from head to toe.
"Do you remember the last time you measured your height?"
Hermes nodded, a hint of doubt and intrigue in his eyes.
"What was the result?"
Hermes swallowed hard, his voice trembling, and he hesitated to answer. His forehead began to sweat, knowing he wasn't dealing with just any Seeker, but with Forsaken, and anything said wrong could be the butt of a joke for centuries.
"Well, um... if I remember correctly, I'm 1.81 meters tall."
Forsaken closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, his mind deep in thought. Then, he opened his eyes and gave Hermes and Huô a tender smile.
"Okay, Hermes is 1.81 meters tall, which is a typical size for a woman—at least in my country—and Huô is 2 meters tall, which is a size that's both not very tall and, at the same time, very close to that of a man. So, dear Seekers, the most reasonable question is: Who is the man and who is the woman in this beautiful relationship?"
Hermes and Huô glared at each other in disgust and said in unison:
"A relationship?! A relationship?!... we hate each other to death!"
Father set his coffee down on the table and began to clap discreetly. His hands made hollow, muffled sounds, trying to sound amused.
"Incredible, isn't it? They're even in sync."
Mistaker gently tapped the table, drawing everyone's attention.
"Seekers, by the first infected for the sin, we are divine beings; there's no reason to be fighting over something as trivial as love."
Mistaker placed a hand on his chest and continued:
"Your Grace has a pleasant gift for you, which is a—"
A fiery arrow sliced through the air and nearly pierced Mistaker's head, but he easily turned his head and dodged the weak attack.
A young man —with hair streaked with yellow and orange, and striking orange eyes, which looked like the sun, since they shone like it— stood at one of the windows, his black, somewhat tight-fitting clothes adorned with a crescent moon. Around his neck, completely encircled, was a kind of scarf that appeared to be made of black feathers, like those of a raven. His most striking feature, however, was his long, pointed, and rather sensitive ears.
Mistaker looked at the young man and said,
"Hello, Apollus, you're late for the meeting."
Apollus shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs, his hands eager to start eating.
Poseidon glanced at the man with the sun-like eyes, then asked, "Apollus, how are the things at Sunrise Garden?"
Apollus bit his lip until it bled, rested his head in his hands, and shook his head. Apollus's mind began to recall all the dangers that could lurk in his country, leaving a bitter, heavy taste in his mouth.
"I'm screwed... first of all, I'm very close to a civil war, which could destroy the entire economy and natural areas. Secondly, I need to negotiate for food, although of course, it will only last a few weeks. If I don't act quickly, my entire cult will soon disappear."
Mistaker sighed and clicked his tongue, his lips forming a discreet, though not content, smile.
"Well, Apollus, if they dare to destroy your natural resources, your economy will quickly crumble. I'll give you a plan of action. First, prioritize the conservation of places like 'the great grove' or 'the rose-lily rooks.' A large part of your economy comes from them. After that, start building more and more mines; that will increase your material reserves. And about the civil war... well, social manipulation is always a viable option."
Apollus sighed heavily and nodded, understanding everything Mistaker had said, though his mind was somewhat reluctant to obey all those orders.
"Mistaker, I understand your plan of action... but, I want to do it all at once, isn't that possible?"
Mistaker laughed with a somewhat frightening amusement. His lips kept moving upwards.
"Let's play a fun game, called 'the game of priorities.'"
Hermes snorted.
"I know that game very well, it's great fun!"
Apollus shrugged and let Mistaker start the game.
"What would happen if 'the great grove' were destroyed?"
Apollus thought for a long time, letting silence fill the room.
"Three main things: number one, we wouldn't be able to produce thick aloe vera, so the economy would be ruined. Number two, tourism wouldn't exist, which would affect the economy; and number three, being a renowned and revered place, the culture would be affected."
Mistaker held up three fingers of his right hand, looking at Apollus with utter intrigue.
"And what would happen if the same thing happened to one of your mines?"
Apollus thought deeply, like when someone is searching for several answers, but only one is correct.
"I would lose mineral resources and... um... nothing, nothing else."
Mistaker held up one finger of his left hand, clicked his tongue with something akin to arrogance in his gaze, and glared at Apollus.
"Exactly! Tell me, Apollus, would you rather have five bad things happen to you, or just one?"
"Em... ugh, one, I suppose."
"Then prioritize the most important places, play the priority game, and the one that wins is the one you should give the most importance to."
Apollus nodded, his eyes wide, filling with an almost divine light and immense gratitude toward Mistaker.
Father nodded.
"A good king, president, monarch, or tyrant should always learn a technique as important as the priority game, Apollus."
The hours passed until the beautiful dawn arrived, as radiant and warm as ever, like a morning cup of tea or a grandmother's warm embrace.
Apollus smiled with delight as he felt that warmth on his face; these kinds of moments reminded him of his beautiful country, Sunrise Garden. Although it wasn't quite the same feeling—after all, the sun always shone much brighter there.
Everything was so peaceful until Mistaker stopped to watch Zero.
"Zero..."
The sleeper woke with a start, his chest heaving at the look on Mistaker's face, his head bowed in shame.
"I'm sorry, my Lord. I know I just broke my promise to you, my Lord: 'Don't fall asleep in a meeting again,' that's what you told me, and—"
Forsaken put on his comedy mask.
"Well, my dear Zero, no one here believed a single word you said, no one."
Zero slammed his fist on the table, drawing everyone's attention.
"Fuck you, Forsaken, I'm fed up with you, son of a bitch... you've been doing the same shit for almost two millennia!"
Forsaken's mouth curled upward, though the expression was hidden by his comedy mask. He clapped slowly and exasperatingly, as if Zero's very existence were a joke.
"Oh, by the first Infected for the Sin, what vocabulary and..." Forsaken let a sword fall onto the table. "You know how this is resolved."
The sword on the table was none other than an Arming Sword, which was rather heavy, weighing about a kilogram, and exactly one meter long. But the most terrifying thing was the yellow mist that danced around it, giving it a touch that was not only frightening but also somewhat comical.
Zero stood up, and a crushing pressure surged against the tower, forcing every servant or slave to their knees, though this event did not affect any of the Seekers.
A dark mist emerged from Zero's pores, a mist charged with negative energy.
Apollus slapped his forehead, his beautiful sunset being destroyed by two idiots. Huô smiled, waiting to see if the conflict was significant. Poseidon shrugged and continued swimming deep within his mind. And Father just drank coffee.
Destiny sighed and said wearily:
"Guys, please, try to be better than this. Can you please not fight?"
Zero shook his head, his hands clenched, his knuckles turning whiter.
"No, Destiny, I have to teach that wretch a lesson."
Forsaken glared at him and said, a hint of hatred lurking in his voice,
"Wretch? Oh, Zero, you went a bit too far with that word, didn't you?" Forsaken stroked the blade of his sword and pointed it directly at Zero's neck.
Destiny shook her head and just closed her eyes, not wanting to watch this spectacle.
Mistaker stood up with a sense of calm. Then, he started walking across the room until he was behind Hermes.
"Hermes."
"Mistaker," Hermes turned toward the Primordial of Errors.
Mistaker placed his hands on Hermes' shoulders, shaking them vigorously.
"Hurry, my friend, or these two will destroy the entire palace."
Hermes snorted in agreement. Suddenly, dimensional rifts appeared, swallowing each Seeker. These rifts were anything but normal; it was as if reality itself had been sliced open by a sword.
When Mistaker opened his eyes, he immediately realized where Hermes had led them.
It was a massive crater, over 400 kilometers across, emanating a burning radiation—though only a slight discomfort to the Seekers. This crater contained a colossal structure within, white and green corridors, stained by decay, with strange shapes interconnected through erratic fusions.
The structure was enormous, nearly 200 kilometers of interconnected corridors, and a bit of something disgusting was on display.
"Wow, Hermes," Poseidon tilted his head. "Seriously, here, in the 'deep fallen'?"
Father shrugged, looking somewhat pleased to be in his favorite place in this world, before pulling out, from who knows where, a hot latte. Hermes lay down on the floor, his desire to rest evident. Huô kept bothering Hermes, while Destiny, Mistaker, and Apollus sat on the ground and chatted quietly.
Destiny turned to the thoughtful Poseidon and then asked with concern,
"Why are you thinking so much? Are you feeling unwell, or is something wrong, little fish?"
Poseidon's lips curled at the sound of that name, snapping him out of his deep thought. Then, he exclaimed with a touch of amusement.
"I'm fine, Eagle. I'm just thinking about that seafood deal that dear Lord Apollus offered me long ago."
Huô pinched Hermes' arm.
"Hey."
"Uhm..."
"You know, I hope those two have a good fight. Life without conflict is miserable, that's why I love war!"
Father looked at the orange-haired woman and sighed somewhat bitterly. Then, he muttered in a tone only he could hear.
"Huô... you don't know what real war is."
...
Zero and Forsaken, meanwhile, moved a few kilometers away from the main group and began their encounter.
"Zero, I hope it's a—"
A thick, black smoke, as dark as a poorly made milkshake and as deep as the ocean, swallowed Forsaken and led him rather unkindly through the corridors of the "deep fallen," destroying them by sheer mistake.
The mist spat Forsaken down onto the floor of the rot, though it had no effect on the ground.
Zero felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and when he turned around, he saw a comedy mask.
A slash sliced through the air and violently grazed Zero's body. He felt an immense weariness at doing something so pointless, but, after all, he had brought it on himself.
Forsaken curled his lips even more and threw himself back, sliding across the floor with absurd lightness. His sword sliced through the air several times, though without touching anything, but all those cuts nearly severed Zero's body.
Zero obviously wouldn't let this attempted attack go unanswered. He formed a perfect equilateral triangle with his fingers, from which emerged a kind of flame, or rather, a black and tranquil energy, like the night itself.
This energy was transmitted in a black sphere that encased Forsaken. This same sphere began to compress inward, and after a minute, Forsaken was consumed by it.
However, a blinding light fragmented the sphere and tried to pierce Zero's shoulder, though the gray-eyed being easily avoided it.
"This is boring."
"Nah. Zero, come on, don't be so lazy."
Zero sat on the ground and shrugged. His gaze focused on Forsaken's sword, his face showing perplexity.
"Why don't you use its full power, clown?"
"I'd ask you the same thing, ghost... are you afraid I'll kill one of your crops?"
A few kilometers behind them were the other Seekers, who watched the confrontation with a certain boredom. But the one who stood out the most was Hermes, who was not only bored but also restless.
He summoned a rift that opened reality and led him toward Zero and Forsaken. The two turned to face him, looking over their shoulders.
"Ugh..." Hermes sighed as another crack opened beneath his feet. "If Zero wins, I'll give him his favorite lollipop, and if Forsaken wins, I'll buy him the Dunust sword he's been searching for."
After Hermes said that, Forsaken and Zero smiled, imagining what Hermes had promised them.
Several seconds of oppressive silence passed, until Zero disappeared, hiding in one of the corridors. Forsaken stopped smiling and knew immediately what Zero wanted to do.
"That bastard wants to go to sleep."
Small, dazzling beams of light emanated from his hands and quickly coalesced into an imperfect ball of light. Then, the same sphere began to spin until it transformed into a golden firefly.
That firefly flew calmly toward Forsaken's head. In a split second, the firefly was inside Forsaken's head.
Forsaken raised his sword and with a swift, calm slash cut through kilometers of the structure before him. But none of those slashes touched even a piece of his own body.
Debris rained down, filling the area with dust that obscured his vision. The sound of the collapse was like a delicious treat to Forsaken, while the exhaustion was the cherry on top.
Suddenly, countless specters or wandering souls manifested throughout the deep decay, but none of them surprised Forsaken. They only made him laugh and say between guffaws,
"Damn Ghoul! Did you go to sleep to summon these souls?"
A voice emerged in his head, like a whisper from the void.
"Of course I would. It's one of my most important powers. Do you have a problem with that?"
Forsaken seemed to be enjoying himself more and more with each whisper from Zero.
"Ugh... you know what? I'll eliminate every single one of your souls."
A light emanated from Forsaken's entire body, burning all those specters to ashes, except for one, one that simply sat atop a rock.
This was one of the so-called "cultivations," adjacent souls with strange and diverse bodies, which Zero had altered in body, mind, and Sinner powers to the point where they became so powerful they could kill an angel alone, and an archangel or demigod together.
This cultivation wore soft, light purple garments, giving it a more sage-like than warrior-like appearance, and it lacked a face, similar to a Daemon from the Void Path, only this one had three eyes. The cultivation wielded a long sword, but not a two-handed one, from which dripped a kind of highly poisonous purple liquid.
Its lilac eyes focused on Forsaken, and suddenly it appeared before him.
Their swords clashed, generating a shockwave so destructive and powerful that it tore apart kilometers of ground.
Waves of yellow and purple power erupted like mushrooms, spreading everywhere and destroying everything in their path. It was so powerful that the other Seekers, who were kilometers away, could feel it.
Forsaken stepped back several meters from the crop, charged again, and easily pierced the creature's body, plunging his sword right into its core.
The blood dripping from the crop wasn't red; there wasn't even any blood, as it was hollow inside...
The body fell to the ground, completely dead...
Forsaken walked away, toying with his sword.
"Hey Zero, these things are too weak. You'd better bring me one of your 'farmers.'"
A hollow voice echoed in Forsaken's head:
"Look behind you, idiot."
When Forsaken turned around, the cultivation's sword had already pierced his liver, causing him a sharp pain.
That cultivation seemed to be angry, even though it was just a hollow, faceless entity; it could still feel emotions like hatred, lust, love, things like that.
Forsaken raised his hand, and as he was about to unleash another burst of light, he realized his body was completely paralyzed.
"Wow... you're not so weak," the smile on Forsaken's comedic mask narrowed.
A few kilometers back, Mistaker rested peacefully until a whisper echoed in his head:
"Get out of there... Mistaker, your promise is not yet fulfilled."
Mistaker inhaled and exhaled heavily, then asked Hermes for two things: first, to teleport him to where the battle was taking place, and second, to speak with him alone.
When he appeared, with absurd speed he sent Forsaken's sword flying and exclaimed in annoyance,
"Zero, we have to go..."
The cultivation vanished like petals in the rain, while from a forgotten corner emerged Zero with a surprised expression.
Forsaken kicked some rocks in frustration. He really wanted that sword Hermes had promised them, but his damned brother hadn't allowed it. The pain from his wound had already ended along with that paralysis effect, due to Forsaken's great regeneration, and also his pleasant resistance to pain.
"Congratulations," Zero said, walking past Forsaken, "you didn't die... but I know that if Mistaker hadn't intervened, you would have."
Forsaken laughed loudly, his body trembling intensely.
"One day, I'm going to kill you... I didn't mean to hurt you today, but when the time comes I promise I'll wander".
Mistaker snapped his fingers, and all the Seekers were treated by a rift and sent to the Seeker main castle, all except Mistaker and Hermes.
Those two, instead of going to the castle, remained in the deep decay.
Hermes stood beside Mistaker, looking at him expectantly. A request from Mistaker was impressive, since he almost always did everything alone.
Mistaker tilted his head slightly and looked Hermes directly in the eyes.
"Hermes... I want to see your little brother, Zephyr."