Morvian had had to be bound before in his life.
What had cost him the beginning of his ordeal when he had taken possession of the body of a slave girl high in the mountains.
Yet to be bound for an offering? That was the first time that had happened.
To be honest, he had mixed feelings.
On the one hand, he felt insanely painful in his wrists and feet from the rope biting into his skin.
On the other hand there was something peaceful here.
A heavy downpour washed over his body as if the heavens themselves wanted to embrace him. While the rolls of thunder illuminated the frantic faces of the sectarians that had gathered around the pillar and were dancing something.
'Elias was saying that the villages around here are sitting on pins and needles. I didn't think he meant it literally.'
Warm blood dripped from his face, mixing with the water and dripping from his chin.
His vision was almost back to normal by now, but the slight motion sickness was still there.
Morvian had been through a lot since the ordeal began.
He was able to survive an attack by the beasts of the abyss on a slave caravan, as well as outwit two adventurers. One of whom wanted him dead very badly.
He was even able to acquire a dimensional ring!
In the real world, such artifacts are worth an incredible amount of money, which Morvian would not have been able to earn on the streets of Rusthole in his entire life.
'It's a pity that all the items will remain here after the ordeal is over. Like this body...'
Morvian had gotten a little used to his current appearance, but he would still be more comfortable in his original body.
A strange sense of melancholy assailed him.
It seemed to him that everything he had done before the ordeal had been something mediocre.
All he did was wander the streets, taking food or money from someone to make Aunt Aunt's life easier.
Memories of his last sibling caused him to have complicated emotions.
Regret or anxiety didn't fit here.
More like bitterness that she had to live in such disgusting conditions where aristocrats lived grafted lives.
He knew it was a bit childish to blame everything on the upper classes, but why not? He just wanted to do it and that was all.
That was why he had decided to become a Revenant, to get his family out of this hole. Wasn't it?
He didn't know anymore.
The hardships and the breath of death had managed to change his thinking a bit, though it wasn't apparent at first glance.
Morvian puckered his lips and spat blood. At that moment he felt sick to his stomach for some reason.
'This is not the time to think about it now. I need to survive and return home, and then I'll decide my own future.
The sun-colored eyes that stood out against the darkness and the cultists' chanting stared at one point.
Where before there had been a pair of scarlet eyes that had been surveying the crowd.
However, they had now disappeared somewhere.
'Breaking through with a fight won't be the best option, because there are too many of them here. Besides, I won't be able to help him, tied to a pole. I think he has a plan.'
An unsettling feeling abruptly overshadowed Morvian's reasoning.
Elias' disappearance must not have meant only that he had sprung into action.
'Surely he could just leave me here... perhaps... that would be undesirable.'
Morvian felt that Dyla's ring was still on his finger and he might be able to work something out with it. As he had with Leah's dragonflies.
However, there was one problem.
The mana in his body was almost completely depleted and he certainly didn't want to die for lack of it. Or go on a mana rampage, which would also mean his death.
He could only hope that the monster with the pleasant voice would be a loyal ally and help him.
A bitter feeling came to his throat and he grumbled.
It was a feeling he already knew, one he wished he could forget. However, it resurfaced again and he couldn't escape it anywhere.
The feeling of helplessness.
Just like back then, ten years ago. During the coming of the Goddess of War, there was nothing he could do and he had to rely on others.
He hated it.
He liked to be in control without relying on outsiders.
He understood that it was difficult to survive alone and he didn't blindly reject help from anyone. However, he was much more at ease when he could control the situation on his own.
But after the ordeal, he would still get that opportunity.
Morvian was sure that he was already able to stand out to get some sort of ability.
He could get something survival-oriented or something similar. Considering his start in the mountains.
However, he didn't strongly desire such a skill.
If it came down to preference, he wanted something simple, yet effective.
Something that could come in handy in the many different situations he would be in.
Morvian certainly wouldn't mind some incredibly powerful ability that could cut through mountains. Just like Warlock Snow. But he'd prefer something that wouldn't draw so much attention.
After all, if you create the illusion of helplessness, your enemies will underestimate you. Which will be decisive in a fight.
However, all his reasoning was meaningless if he died today.
Morvian sighed heavily as he counted the total number of sectarians.
'There are twenty-three of them in total. That's too many for Elias alone. Besides, we don't know for sure if they're all villagers.''
Morvian didn't have a clear plan and the headache contributed to that.
However, Elias had apparently already made up his mind.
For the monster's huge body emerged from the darkness and a pair of scarlet eyes stared at the crowd of sectarians.