Determined to win all the way and sweep away hunger, Orsaga gazed across the distance at his wildly excited henchmen, feeling fairly satisfied.
These days, someone was always bound to encounter misfortune.
So why could one not use someone else's misfortune to achieve one's own happiness?
Come to think of it,
their misfortune should thereby take on a different kind of meaning as well.
As for whether those henchmen and customers would be satisfied?
They would probably be quite satisfied.
After all, Orsaga had never liked lying.
It had already been quite a few years since he last lied.
Quite a few years even by his own sense of time.
Thus, in this plan, he had naturally deceived no one from beginning to end.
Whether they were those who sought the Netheril Empire Heritage in hopes of slaughtering gods, reaching the summit, and standing above all living beings,
or these jubilant believers,
Orsaga had never deceived any of them.
Everything he said had been solid, honest truth.
Of course, whether the outcome would satisfy them was another matter.
Once all the truths were put together, whether they still counted as truth was something he made no guarantees about.
The treasures pursued by the treasure hunters—whether the portion of spell research materials left behind by Grand Arcanist Karsus, or the relatively well-preserved ruins of a Nethys Floating City—existed somewhere in this region, or perhaps were simply in the hands of the Felin Devil Sunflower Race.
And the escape from this living hell sought by the Felin Demon Sunflowers would indeed come true in the near future.
Faced with the method of breaking the barrier provided by Orsaga, every last one of those people who, in pursuit of their ambitions, dared to prepare to slaughter gods and put real effort into doing