In the dark, cavernous hall, Nimrod sat on a throne that looked like black iron, his eyes closed.
The candles hanging upside down from the ceiling of the Black Iron Hall resembled scattered stars. Four more quietly ignited, their pale yellow light spreading through the hall. A figure knelt on one knee before Nimrod's throne, reporting certain matters to him.
"Well done."
Nimrod nodded slightly. "Conceal your identities for now and await the arrival of my Chosen."
Nimrod had not told Trissy very much. He had left her ample room to fill in the blanks herself.
For Trissy, who was accustomed to the high-stakes games of Backlund, returning to the Southern Continent meant she could live quite comfortably as long as the Rose School and the Mother Tree of Desire did not set their sights on her.
Not to mention that he had granted Edessak and Trissy a degree of resistance to divination. Provided nothing went wrong, the two of them could even build a small faction in the Southern Continent.
Nimrod was not worried about his subordinates developing factions of their own. On the contrary, he hoped these Beyonders, whom he had invested some effort in nurturing, could develop independently and supply him with the materials and intelligence he needed through such channels.
In the short time since becoming a demigod, Nimrod had already worked out some methods for acting as a Parasite.
On the surface, a Parasite seemed to be nothing more than a thief who parasitized others, constantly acting out their role. With enough time, they should be able to digest the potion for this Sequence and gain the opportunity to advance to Sequence 3.
In reality, however, aside from Amon-the Error pathway's very literal deadline-acting as a Parasite was not that simple either.
Parasitism did not