The Outergod's Avatar-Chapter 77: Underlying Revelation (3)

"I don’t know what you mean," Izikel said firmly, his voice as steady as he could manage.

"There’s no need to lie about it, Lord Izikel," Chief Markis replied, tone calm but eyes sharp. "It’s not like I can prove it... I guess it makes sense how Lyzah was able to defeat Raynoel, but I would like to know what you saw—or what you think you saw?"

’Shit, he knows... no, no he doesn’t. He’s just trying to see if I’ll admit it. There’s no need to feel pressured.’

Izikel took a slow breath and calmed himself.

"I already told you, Chief Markis. I have no idea what you are talking about."

Markis tilted his head slightly. "Then where were you going, if not to see Flavius?"

Izikel felt his heartbeat quicken. The rhythm thudded in his ears.

’This man... he’s dangerous. Too dangerous.’

Most people would doubt the impossible, even when staring it dead in the face. But not Markis. He was boldly implying that Izikel had some sort of ability.

’He’s probably just bluffing,’ Izikel told himself, trying to cling to that hope.

"I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing," he said, trying to sound dismissive. "But I already told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh really?" Markis took a step forward, and Izikel instinctively took half a step back. "Then why are you scared?"

The accusation struck like a slap, but it was the real slap that followed.

Markis’s hand came out of nowhere, a heavy, open-palmed strike across Izikel’s face. Stars danced in his vision as everything went black.

---

When Izikel came to, the first thing he noticed was the warmness of the evening sun. The forest was quiet—too quiet. It wasn’t the part of the woods he recognized. He tried to sit up but realized he was bound. Thick ropes pressed into his wrists, the fibers biting into his skin.

Markis stood nearby, surrounded by several cloaked figures—Tree Keepers, by their garb. Their faces were unreadable, painted with dark green sap, and deep tired eyes watching their leader in silence.

"My children," Markis began, lifting his arms like a preacher. "It seems the hour is finally upon us. After all the years, all the sacrifices, all the patience—we are ready. The time has come."

"But Chief," one of the Tree Keepers spoke, hesitant. "Aren’t we supposed to wait until we have enough souls?"

"We can’t afford to wait any longer," Markis said with finality. "If we delay, we risk losing everything."

"Today," he said, voice rising with conviction, "we begin the destruction of the Five Great Kingdoms."

Izikel’s stomach twisted.

’What the hell is happening?’ he thought in panic.

His fingers twitched. His soul energy responded. Slowly, carefully, he conjured a small knife from the recesses of his dream. It flickered faintly with blue light, almost ethereal. He bent his hands awkwardly, trying to position the blade to the ropes.

But the bindings were tight. Every motion was agonizingly slow and awkward.

Still, he kept at it.

Then he heard footsteps approaching.

"Lord Izikel," Markis said casually. "You’re awake."

Izikel didn’t stop cutting. "What are you going to do to me, you monster?" he spat. "You can kill me if you want—but I promise, you won’t get away with it."

Markis chuckled, as though amused by the outburst. "I’m sorry to disappoint you, Izikel, but there’s no one left to stop me."

It was the truth—and Izikel hated it. No one in the village suspected Markis. He was revered and trusted. Not only because of the fact that he was the chief of the Druids but simply because he would never do something so unimaginable.

"Why are you doing this?" Izikel asked through clenched teeth. "Why are you killing your own people?"

"So it really was you," Markis mused. "You saw the bodies in the roots of the Tree?"

He smiled, almost fondly. "I figured it had to be. That is the only way you’d know."

"If you must know..." he sighed. "It’s for a greater cause. Their deaths opened a door for us—a door that was sealed long ago. Before this, we could never imagine such freedom. But now... now, we can act. Just like the rest of you."

"You may not understand, Izikel, since you’re still young. But I’ve come to realize something, that there’s a necessary darkness in every person. Without it, no one survives in this world. In a world as cruel as this, that darkness is the tool to survive," 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Their sacrifice," he said, "is painful. But necessary for we to possess that tool,"

Izikel stared at him, disgusted. "You could’ve walked away. You could’ve chosen a different path or a different faith. Anything other than this."

"I could have," Markis agreed. "But that would have been abandoning my people. Everything I’ve done—I did to save them."

"This? This is saving?" Izikel snapped. "People are turning into monsters! Our crops are dying. And you call this salvation?"

Markis looked down, his voice soft. "That... is a side effect. A temporary one. It will all be corrected—once the ritual is complete and I ascend. Once I become a deity... I can fix everything."

"You actually believe that," Izikel said, shaken. "You are the one destroying everything."

"You will not understand," Markis said, the weight of sorrow in his tone.

"The Druids have suffered. The Verdant Mother sacrificed our well-being for ideals that no longer hold any place in this world. She took something precious from us. I merely took it back."

"But at what price?" Izikel asked, voice low.

Markis turned away, unmoved. "One I am willing to pay."

He gave a subtle nod to one of the Druids, who stepped forward and grabbed Izikel roughly, hoisting him to his feet.

"I said I wouldn’t kill you," Markis warned, "but if you try anything else—I won’t hesitate."

They began to move, pushing through dense thickets of gnarled roots and moss-covered bark. Izikel suspected they were heading toward the Old Tree—using hidden paths to avoid detection.

Then, suddenly—movement.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a blur rushing toward them.

Lyzah.

She sprinted in with impossible speed and launched herself at the Druid holding Izikel, her legs tucked in. Her feet slammed into the man’s face with a thunderous dropkick, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Let’s go!" she shouted.

Izikel didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted forward—

But before he could even make it five steps, vines surged from the earth and wrapped tightly around his leg, yanking him down hard.

Lyzah didn’t fare better—thick green vines coiled around her arms and legs, hoisting her into the air like a puppet.

Markis stepped forward. His hands never moved, yet the vines responded as if obeying his thoughts.

"Lyzah," he said, voice calm. "I told you not to interfere when your father is busy."

"I’m not going—!" she screamed—

But a vine slipped over her mouth, silencing her.

"Stop shouting," Markis muttered. "Before someone hears us."

His expression softened. "You of all people should be grateful. You’ll get to enjoy the fruits of all my sacrifices."

A flower bloomed from the vine restraining her. It released a faint pink gas onto her face.

Lyzah’s eyes fluttered. A second later, she was unconscious.