Imperial Calendar 219, Winter, Oak City

Mel left the village before him.

Across this world, the same thing was playing out countless times. To the order of this era, the noble class considered such things perfectly natural.

Just like in his previous life, the history books clearly recorded the same events, yet some people, looking over those records, came to understand "strive to become emperor," while others could only grasp a single word: "kill."

Different classes, different identities, different standings—naturally, what they saw was different as well.

"It seems there's still a long road ahead." Mel looked at the road stretching across the plains in the distance, seemingly endless at a glance.

Now, when he saw such scenes again, it was difficult for him to sigh. Sighing could not solve any problems.

The reason he had secretly infiltrated Gard this time and formally fulfilled the Theft Apostle's agreement was simply that the agreement did not conflict with Mel's own goals.

"Azuk's grimoire! Is it finally going to appear in the world?"

It seemed the Apostles were even more sensitive than I was.

Before anything had even happened, they had already come looking for me to deal with Azuk.

From their respective positions, the Apostles and Azuk seemed to be enemies. In truth, even Mel found it hard to say which side he himself should stand on.

Azuk was the final boss in the game's storyline, and the loss of control over time and space he caused would likewise lead to many deaths.

As for the Apostles, now that Mel knew they were the gods' lackeys, it was hard not to be wary of them.

Besides, even if all Ten Apostles were dragged off and beheaded, not a single one would be wrongly killed.

After making a circuit through several cities, Mel ultimately prepared to return to