Perhaps those with ambitious legends would be particularly thrilled upon hearing the news of a recently revived mythical figure, thinking it was now their ti to slay a god and take its place.
But Albrecht had always operated in a steady and low-profile manner and did not intend to confront it.
He firmly believed that opportunities always ca with risks, and even a 1% risk, once encountered, ant 100%.
As a mber of the longevity species, he clearly could have bided his ti and gradually achieved his goals without the need for impulsive risks, let alone risks to his life.
The "Dark Night God" had managed to kick Vararoka back into Sealing with a single blow. Although this was likely due to Vararoka having not fully regained his power, the "God’s" own power had also probably recovered to a certain extent.
He had no need to rush into danger.
"Simply... find a safe place to sleep, sleep for a few years, and wait for the summons after the Duke’s arrival. I’ve done enough over the years, suffered severe injuries and even lost an arm fighting against the Church..."
"There are other Angel Envoys in the Church. Let anyone who wishes to charge into battle do so! They won’t miss , and the Duke will surely understand if he finds out."
Albrecht muttered to himself and quickly ca to a decision.
His injuries were indeed grave; while the severed arm would regrow over ti, the power left by Louis V was not so easily dispelled.
He was now so weak that he even had to consider avoiding a Blazing Sun.
Indeed, he needed to heal.
After taking a deep breath, Albrecht found his direction and transford into a shadow swiftly fleeing into the distance.
He chose the northeast.
He planned to go to the Black Land of Eastern Yonette, a rcenary paradise, a place of chaotic faith. There were legends, sure, but no consolidated regional power, and many relics remained, making it the perfect place to hide!
Albrecht concealed his aura and rapidly departed, eager to leave New Moon imdiately.
However, after four or five minutes of flight, he suddenly materialized and stopped.
Clutching his wound, Albrecht’s gaze swept the surroundings, his expression full of shock and uncertainty.
Leaning gravestones, withered and rotting trees, circling crows, and faint flickering will-o’-the-wisps...
Although he had fled forty or fifty kiloters away, he was still within that small graveyard!
Sothing was not right...
A sense of dread sank in Albrecht’s heart.
He heightened his vigilance, cautiously surveying his surroundings, and then he saw the crows circling in the sky landing on branches one by one. They slowly moved their heads and, in unison, turned to gaze at him.
The ceaseless cawing stopped, the phantasmal flas extinguished, and the whole world fell into silence. Only pairs of crimson eyes faintly flickered as they stared at him. Also, a large Blood Moon hung in the sky above.
The next mont, Albrecht saw scarlet mists coming from all sides, quickly engulfing the entire world...
Within the haze, he saw the scenery around him twist and change.
The crows vanished, the withered trees were gone, and even the gravestones disappeared.
In their place were dark stone walls, ancient yet opulent chandeliers, and the cold, hard ground.
He was not in a graveyard.
He was in the midst of a solemn and majestic ancient castle.
On the walls all around the castle were murals that appeared almost lifelike, narrating tales of Gods and their followers.
Before him, stairs upon stairs extended and converged on a high platform enshrouded in mists.
He saw an antique throne at the center of the platform.
And upon that throne, a graceful figure shrouded in scarlet mists sat languidly...
Looking at the Holy Emblems around the throne and at those mocking, gilt eyes in the midst of the scarlet mist, Albrecht’s eyes widened, his face drained of color, and he felt utterly unwell:
"Thorny... Rose..."
"Dark Night God!"
His throat was dry, and even his voice trembled.
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