Chapter 544: Depravita Soul Bloodline
Zalasar stared at the young man for a few seconds before nodding softly. It was true that the battlefield was already theirs. Although Agamenon was supposed to remain hidden for the duration of their journey, they were already close to the Golden Sky Fortress. Revealing himself to kill a Voroe Sage, under those circumstances, seemed worth the risk.
However, as Zalasar surveyed the aftermath of the battle and noted the new figures standing nearby, a small frown appeared on his face. He turned his scrutinizing gaze toward the newcomers, his warhorse stamping impatiently beneath him.
In Zalasar’s mind, there was no doubt that these outsiders were not aligned with the Vorometallicae race or any faction from the Chaovoratities Plane. Their help in the death of the Sage made it clear they had no love for the Voroes. Yet his inherent caution remained.
Just because they fought a common enemy did not mean they were entirely trustworthy. He sensed the aura of their souls, and while it strongly resembled that of humanity, there was something slightly off—a subtle hint that they could belong to one of the myriad races dwelling within The Darkness.
Paranoia could prove to be a lifesaver in a Doomsday World. Zalasar knew this all too well. In fact, it was his paranoid instincts that had pushed him to use a treasured artifact to obliterate the mountain range earlier, taking out a large portion of the Voroe horde. That decisive strike had saved many lives. Now, as he studied these newcomers, Zalasar’s cautious nature continued to guide him.
Vlad, sensing Zalasar’s guarded expression, remained calm. He offered no sudden moves, no abrupt words. The last remnants of the Voroe horde had been annihilated, granting everyone a moment to breathe.
Once the battle’s clamor and dust settled, the cavalry and warriors accompanying Zalasar regrouped behind him, forming a protective formation in a wide semicircle. In turn, Vlad made a small gesture with his hand, prompting Jormungandr to stand on his shoulders. On the other hand, Fafnir and Ouroburs flanked him closely, their stances poised yet non-threatening.
A tense silence fell as the two groups observed each other. Only moments ago, they had fought side by side against a common enemy. Now, the question hung heavily in the air: Would cooperation persist, or would fresh conflicts arise?
Agamenon, still exuding a warm golden aura that shimmered around the edges of his armor, glanced at Zalasar. After a brief exchange of nods, both men advanced together, closing the distance until they stood about fifty meters from Vlad and his companions.