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Odysseus took a deep breath, slowly releasing it before beginning to explain.

"It's because of Ms. Envy. She's a valuable asset to our lord, but her reluctance to cross the line and antagonize the Hightower might soday jeopardize our fight against them. I wanted to avoid that," Odysseus clarified.

"So... that ans it's justified for you to pull off this behind our lord's back? Is that what you an?" Penthesilea asked, a hint of anger in her voice.

"No, it's not," Odysseus responded without hesitation.

"Oh? Then why are you doing this?" Penthesilea inquired, moving her spear a bit deeper, the sharp edge cutting into Odysseus's neck, causing it to bleed.

"I know that regardless of the reason, actions like these behind our lord are not what a loyal subject should do. But it's necessary to pave the way for our lord," Odysseus paused, then turned around slowly without fearing the blade that continued to cut into his neck, causing further bleeding.

He looked solemnly and directly into Penthesilea's eyes, indicating that his words were without deceit.

"You've served our lord longer than I have. You should understand his personality. He has started to see Ms. Envy as part of his family. That's why he went easy on the Hightower branch in Europe and decided not to completely dominate them," Odysseus explained.

"But the campaign in Europe worked in our favor, without any loss of lives, and our lord's reputation wouldn't be tarnished either. Isn't that better?" Penthesilea countered.

"But at what cost?" Odysseus retorted. "I heard that to make the patriarch of the Montmorency clan move. Radu Sanguinis, the patriarch of the Sanguinis clan, used a keepsake from his wife to ask for it. That one favor could be more useful to us in the future. If we just show the Hightower branch in Europe our might and make it clear that they need to serve the new master, we wouldn't need to lose that one chance for favor, and the patriarch of the Sanguinis Clan wouldn't lose his wife's keepsake," Odysseus explained.

"Odysseus, your mindset is that of a conqueror! We get what we want and prevent the loss of life! Rember, when going to war, whether win or lose, all the parties involved pay their price in blood," Penthesilea reminded Odysseus about the nature of war, drawing from their experiences since both had lived through the Trojan War before understanding the cost.

"And that's why our lord sent Vlad there, so that the price would only be paid by the Hightower!" Odysseus retorted.

"Yes! And after that, the Vatican would be openly after our asses instead of the already weakened Hightower. Rember, those people hate heretics, and Vlad's power is anything but heretic to them," Penthesilea shot back.

The two debated about what is best for their lord. Odysseus's stance was clear: their lord should not compromise, and he should be seen as a strong conqueror. On the other hand, Penthesilea wanted people to see their lord as benevolent and a strong leader, portraying him as a ssiah for the world.

After an hour of heated debate, the two stared at each other, feeling exhausted. Odysseus spoke with a little bit of surprise and amazent.

"Your debating skill is better than back then, Penthesilea. I'm amazed."

"People need to improve themselves. Do you think I'm still the old muscle-for-brain you think I am?" Penthesilea responded with a proud attitude. "Besides..." Her gaze grew sharp, and she continued.

"I'm not here to debate with you; I'm here to catch a traitor. Are you a traitor?" she asked.

"The definition of a traitor is 'a person who is not loyal or stops being loyal to their own country, social class, beliefs, etc.' But I am still loyal to our lord and our lord alone. And I'm not soone to stand idly by and let so witch dictate our lord's actions.

If our lord were to go soft by his own accord and wanted to spare those mages, that's fine! I'll follow his will. If I think that those mages are better alive than dead, then I'll suggest to our lord and let our lord dictate their life and death.

But to let that witch guilt-trip our lord into sparing those mages because she still has so lingering sense of camaraderie or friendliness and was hesitant to go all the way to stay with our lord!? That's another story! That witch. IS NOT. MY. MASTER!" Odysseus said loudly, emphasizing the fact that Envy is not his master.

"Judging by her stance and our lord's stance, I think sooner or later, she will be one of our lord's mistresses," said Penthesilea.

Odysseus let out a smile before saying, "You think I didn't know? That's why I need to make sure that she understands that if she's with our lord, she should not think of protecting our lord's enemies, no matter who they are, and she should wholeheartedly support our lord.

That's why I'm doing this; I need to let her know early that she should not harbor any protection for those mages out of old tis' sake. I need her to be aware that they don't see her as their ntor and leader anymore," explained Odysseus to Penthesilea.

Seeing that Penthesilea started to get his point, as she noticed a hint of agreent in her eyes, Odysseus let out a smile and added, "Don't tell you're okay seeing our lord acting like a simp to that witch," he asked.

Hearing this, Penthesilea's face grew dark. She too didn't want to see their lord being manipulated by Envy, especially since Envy had lived so long and knew many tricks to manipulate people during her long life. What annoyed her the most was that Envy didn't use these tricks where they should be used and used them on their lord, who saw her as an ally and a possible family.

"Of course, I didn't," Penthesilea answered and continued, "But that's another matter."

"Odysseus," Penthesilea started. "You might convince about your motive, and I empathize with that, but what would you do if Ms. Sloth were to be injured or dead because of your little sche? She's one of our lord's confidantes and the head researcher. Besides, I get a hint that our lord might see her as a little sister, even if you told that you made sure that the worst-case didn't happen.

But so what? You still damaged her, even if it's just a little bit, but she's still an innocent who beca a pawn in your little sche.

The fact that you're ssing with our lord still remains, and I just can't overlook it. If you were , what are you going to do?" Penthesilea solemnly asked.

Odysseus remained silent, swiftly producing a gun from his suit pocket and pressing it to his temple before pulling the trigger.

Bang!

A gunshot echoed, but instead of succumbing to pain or losing consciousness, Odysseus found himself still standing, unhard. Penthesilea's hand had intercepted the bullet between the barrel and his temple, and she dropped the hot projectile to the ground, leaving a burnt trace on her gloved palm.

"That's fine. You've given your answer," Penthesilea said, her authoritative voice carrying weight. "If you had attempted so trick, such as using the bullet wasn't enough to kill you, or avoid your responsibility, I would have killed you myself. But you didn't. This ans you still have our lord in your heart. As the director of the Atlanteus base, I'll mark this as a first offense on behalf of our lord."

"Penthesilea…" Odysseus uttered in disbelief. He believed that death was the only way to cleanse his sins. Then, a smile graced his lips.

"Thank you. This will be the first and last ti I do sothing like this. I'll show you how right you are for giving a chance," Odysseus expressed gratefully.

In Odysseus's heart, Penthesilea remained a woman who despised displays of authority, planning, scheming, big pictures, or judging cases. She preferred to confront problems head-on, either with punches or slashes until they disappeared. He had never seen her as a respected leader until now; he had clearly underestimated her growth.

"But still, letting you completely off the hook is not my style," Penthesilea declared, placing her spear on the ground and cracking her knuckles with a savage smile.

Maybe he had been too quick to judge, Odysseus thought; this Amazonian warrior still preferred venting her anger through violence.

"It'll hurt a little bit," Penthesilea warned before rushing toward Odysseus.

During this ti, Odysseus beca a punching bag for Penthesilea to repeatedly vent her anger—an understatent. It was as if he had beco a punching bag adorned with an image of the person she hated the most, Achilles. Or perhaps, at so point during her rage, Penthesilea accidentally mistook Odysseus for Achilles, explaining why he needed special dical care, particularly in the region of his family jewels.

The first ti the doctors and dics in the base's dical center examined Odysseus, it beca a case study for any dical student. It showcased the extent of human endurance against blunt trauma to the face and how such trauma could significantly alter a person's facial features.

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