Every person had their uses.
Even someone who looked like trash.
And Freeman was no piece of trash.
Freeman was obsessed with the mystical side... no, to be precise, with power and youth, almost to the point of madness.
He could stake his entire fortune, burning his bridges to obtain what he needed.
Arthur greatly admired that decisiveness.
Because Arthur knew someone like that would surely prove useful someday.
And now was the moment for Freeman to truly take the stage-if Freeman was protecting the Eastern, he would inevitably clash with the Church of Pain!
There was no doubt about that.
With his keen instincts and decisiveness, Freeman would strike without hesitation when faced with the ill-intentioned Church of Pain.
As for Arthur's cooperation with the Church of Pain?
Of course it existed.
But who said they couldn't test each other before cooperating?
People were always greedy.
That was human nature.
Arthur was no exception.
Neither was the Church of Pain.
No!
They would go even further.
Because they had the authority of a god behind them, they could make their subordinates obey more readily. Having a god bear responsibility for everything felt simply wonderful.
So...
They would surely go far overboard.
And that was precisely what Arthur wanted.
You'd better not disappoint me!
Arthur stroked the top of Pendragon's head, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
On the outskirts of West Berlin.
A secret force of fifty was rapidly assembling.
They were all cavalrymen, each with two horses. Every rider wore a black cloak that concealed his face. They stood silently to one side, and even the warhorses beneath them were utterly quiet, like statues.
Even an ordinary person would have sensed something different about this cavalry force.
Let alone anyone from the mystical side.
Yet no