Varian couldn't disregard the confidence of the man who left with venomous words.
Even if Immortal was defeated now and noticed the stark difference in their powers, he wasn't demoralized.
He had something to rely on.
What exactly?
'The rulers of Genesis and Mors.'
Even though he was almost abandoned, the connection wasn't severed. He could always ask for their help.
He must've also confirmed the presence of slivers with this battle, if he didn't already.
The prideful Immortal might've refrained from seeking support from his ardent divine backers. It wouldn't suit his style to use a divine thug on a celestial rookie. That would've been a battle for him to win.
But if a loss hit him in the face and showed him a future where he had hopes of victory, all the pride would be thrown out of the window.
Unlike Immortal who valued pride, Varian could only assume that the rulers of Genesis and Mors were pragmatic people.
From how they mercilessly abandoned Immortal despite pouring so much time into his creation spoke for itself.
Life Master Kemin Aurik didn't love all 'life' just because they happen to be alive. Lord Yami didn't hate all the living just because they didn't die yet.
The ruthless pragmatism shown by these two in creating an alliance with a group that was their counterpart, the anti-thesis of their very existence, was the evidence of how far they'd go for their goals.
It was funny in retrospect. Even a bit poetic from fate's part. The six tribes were clearly living forms but worshipped gods who represented a concept.
The tribes themselves seemed to have the same fate as the concepts they worship.
Space devoured Time and now, space would keep expanding in all directions, moving in only one. Just like Neveah swallowed Heaven and established its sole role.
There was only Chaos at first and then, Order emerged. Now, everything that happens in Eden happens under a largely controlled environment. Any chaos that exists within the system could only be seen as controlled chaos within a strict order.
Nexus today was homefield of Order. All the chaos within was allowed to be chaotic, as long as it doesn't touch a few redlines.
Life and Death, the polar opposites, the two things that could never mix, cooperated with each other defying all odds. 'Sentience' did the impossible going against the natural way of things.
Unlike the other two pairs of tribes which fought against each other giving their natural inclinations, these two were the only tribes that cooperated.
Perhaps it's all just an unnecessary interpretation, an attempt to search for meaning when there's none.
'But if…'
Varian closed his eyes and the brief, inexplicable vision he saw during Paradise flashed in his mind.
'If someone intended all this…'
He had grown much more stronger from that time. And that's why, it scared him even more.
'The silent architect.'
Varian decided to head to Paradise or what remained of it to investigate for traces of that force.
*** *** *** *** ***
Athlone.
It was one of the cosmic cities in the Alliance, existing at the intersection of Mors, Genesis and Nexus.
The title of 'city' was decided long ago and would be completely misleading today.
The size of Athlone would be at least thrice that of Pala kingdom and its population would be ten times more.
True to its geography, the city-state housed people from all empires, races and paths.
It was said that even the defectors from the Jai Empire—at least those that weren't killed immediately—were accepted in this place.
Of course, it's a false rumor intended to draw out the spies who would pretend to be refugees.
The reality of the matter was that long long ago, several tribes did rebel after the assumed demise of a previous Jai Emperor. Most of them were slaughtered and a few managed to escape and sought refuge after proving their alliegance by spilling blood for millions of years in the battlefield.
It took them a long while to gain acceptance into the Alliance and even now, they were only allowed in a few of these cosmic cities.
Athlone too had them. But no one envied Athlone or those races living there.
The city-state was a wild place to live in.
Gangs, drugs, crime, prostituion, slavery, living experiments, evil corporations, tyrant bueracrats, brutal police and a dishonest and a lawless populace standing up against everyone else.
It was as wild as it could be.
True, it's a multicultural hub. True, it blended people from all empires. True, it's a home for everyone.
But—
The multiculturism of Athlone has somehow only taken the bad parts of every culture.
The people blended into one group from all sources—they all turned into equal oppressors and oppressed.
Athlone was a home for everyone—a home that necessitated killing to get and stay.
It's a crazy place that no sane citizen of Genesis or Mors could live in.
The ruling council of the city was headed, undoubtedly, by members of Chaos faction. Only they would only this chaos.
They even convinced the Alliance that this place would be the 'bank' to print soldiers for war. And it indeed worked that way.
Athlone produced the highest pseudo-divines per capita compared to any other region of the Alliance.
In a line, it's a strong, dirty and dangerous place.
<Sean's Skull> was one of the famous pubs in Athlone. Not so famous for the kick of its drinks or the butts of the beauties who dance there but for the pricey drink where you could directly get poured a drink from the skull of 'Sean'—a divine ranker.
Not too surprisingly, only lunatics, fearless and powerful visit this place.
And in a corner of that bar—
"Are you serious? You'll remove the curse?" A girl in a golden princess dress asked with a suspicious expression.
She looked too young to be in the bar, only eight or nine. But the look in her eyes and light of wisdom was something even a million-year old would not be able to match.
Her voice was still young and cute, but the steady tone indicated that she was anything but a child.
The old man with a long beard in a black robe andblack hood over his head said. "I said just that, young lady."
"Don't call me young, you old fucker." Her face turned cold and a thick killing intent spread across the pub.
The pub's lunatics and fearless both shivered and looked away.
The old man's eyes remained emotionless but his face showed an apologetic expression.
"Miss, I will do what I promised, if you do what you must."
"Do you take me for an idiot?" The girl placed her hands on the table and leaned forward from the chair she was standing on.
It was a cute sight for a child pretending to be adult, if only it hadn't killed thousands for showing that thought on their faces.
"An old bastard like you can't do anything and you expect me to fulfill that job?"
The old man frowned. He had known her to be stubborn and rash, but this was proving to be a bit difficult.
Who would've known Keeper Equilius would be in such a pitiful situation?