A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

These are all members of the Mathematical Society in this region; if Marek wants them, they will appear.

As if they had been lying in ambush for a long time, they appeared at the most opportune moment and blocked Bray's advance.

People from all walks of life, industries, and age groups come to the Mathematical Society, making it extremely difficult to find complete uniformity among them.

However, they still have one thing in common: they are all supporters of the savior.

They want the world to be saved, therefore they need a savior.

Their strength is insufficient, so they rely on others, on the strong.

This dependence becomes a belief. No, belief is something similar, only the object is different.

The gods are ethereal and intangible, but Nalan and the others can reach them.

Under Marek's promotion, the image of the "monk" was infinitely glorified.

"Tsk..." Bray clicked his tongue. He really had no way to deal with being surrounded by a bunch of ordinary people.

However, Marek, who came up with this idea, has a rather wicked personality.

Bray wasn't particularly good at escaping, so it was unlikely he could get away from the crowd.

He could only escape in the same way as before.

That is to carve out a path and walk out safely.

Given a significant difference in strength, Bray can still manage to incapacitate his opponent without killing them.

“Don’t let me find you, Marek.” Bray scoffed.

It was precisely because Marek knew that Bray wouldn't easily lay a hand on ordinary people that he specifically sent people from the Mathematical Society to intercept him.

If he were still in that place, Bray would probably ignore those people and come straight to him.

Therefore, Marek left early, without even giving Bray a chance to know which way he was going.

Marek pinched his chin, looking at Nalan, whom he had thrown on the ground, and Nightfrost, who was being brought over by a bunch of black humanoid figures.

Now only these two people are left in front of me.

"Is this the savior you speak of?" Nalan asked, still lying on the ground with empty eyes.

In fact, Nalan had already woken up, but he didn't get up because he didn't want to.

He still hasn't accepted the fact that the gap in strength between him and Bray is so huge.

“Your self-destructive state is not as charming as when you are in your prime, Mr. Nalan.” Marek looked down at Nalan, who seemed to have given up on himself.

Nalan's eyes were lifeless, but Marek didn't really care.

Marek crouched down slightly, bringing himself to Nalan's level.

Marek's face showed only a smile; there was absolutely nothing about "madness" about him.

Not only does Marek not appear "crazy," but every action he takes seems perfectly normal, just like a normal person.

“You are a fraudster,” Nalan said, opening his mouth.

“No, I am not a fraudster.” Marek simply smiled at Nalan’s sarcasm.

No matter how angry or agitated the other party is, Marek can always respond with a smile.

"Do you still remember those scenes that I showed Mr. Nalan?"

Nalan did not answer.

"The whole world was like purgatory. The village where you were born, your friends, your relatives—all were burned to the ground. Have you forgotten that?" Marek said with a smile, his voice gentle yet like the whisper of a devil.

Nalan's pupils suddenly contracted.

"That was your lie too, wasn't it?"

“No,” Marek replied in a very relaxed tone.

"That's the fate the world will inevitably face if no one stands up."

“You could say it’s a possibility for the future,” Marek said quietly.

"It is impossible to predict the true future, but it is possible to predict a future trend."

“What I’m showing you is the real picture, a picture without a savior,” Marek said, emphasizing each word.

His words seemed to have a magical power, making it difficult for anyone to doubt his thoughts.

"..."

"And you, it was precisely because you personally experienced the despair of the end times that I gave you that you decided to become a person who upholds the precepts, wasn't it?"

“I am not a shaman.” Nalan realized this while watching the battle with Bray.

There was no evidence, but he could clearly sense that Bray was the real thing, and he was just a fake.

He felt resentful. Why was he so strong? Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he change the gap between them?

"Yes, that's you."

"Heh..." Nalan just sneered, and his laughter was enough to prove everything.

He no longer trusts Marek.

“They just haven’t grown up yet,” Marek continued.

"I regret that you have not passed the trial; otherwise, you would be a true person who upholds the precepts."

"Trials?" Nalan murmured.

“That’s right, that Aragami was a trial I gave you. Unfortunately, you did not pass the trial I gave you.”

“But you still have a chance.” Marek weaves a new script in his own words.

The old script needs to be torn up, and a brand new script is now being written.

"Although your injuries and Ye Shuang's haven't healed yet, in order to speed up the process—"

“Now begin your new trial,” Marek whispered in Nalan’s ear.

"What will I gain after the trial?" Nalan's empty eyes regained some of their luster.

"Get stronger? Is that all?"

“Yes, it’s just about becoming stronger, but I guarantee you can surpass the limits of the Black Iron race,” Marek said with a smile.

That smile seemed to carry no malice whatsoever, like that of a saint.

"What is the trial?" Nalan struggled to get up from the ground.

"Don't rush, you're not the only one who needs to undergo the trial."

“All those who are still alive who hold the precepts must undergo trials.” This includes Nightfrost, who is unconscious, and Bessie, who is nowhere to be found.

What if Bessi isn't here? No problem, Marek's trial this time isn't about people being here.

Everyone will successfully complete the trial.

"How is that possible? Ye Shuang is still unconscious!" Nalan exclaimed in surprise.

“You don’t need to worry about that.” Marek was about to say something, but halfway through his sentence, he seemed to suddenly think of something interesting.

Ah, yes, that's interesting. Marek felt he could add some more interesting scenes to the script.

Marek first closed his mouth, then patted his thigh and stood up.

He spread his arms wide, as if to welcome a great figure emerging from somewhere.

“That’s right! Mr. Nalan, you don’t need to worry, because you can personally take Ye Shuang’s place and conduct her trial.”

"So, are you willing?" Marek looked at Nalan with interest.

“…” Nalan pondered for a moment.

"Okay." He finally took a deep breath and said in a deep voice.

“Very good! Selfless person, you are indeed suited to be a savior,” Marek said, smiling, but there was no smile in his eyes.

Am I suited to be a savior? It's quite amusing to say something like that to myself.

Nalan's concept of a "savior" had long been distorted, and it became even more distorted after seeing Bray's powerful figure.

Is his pursuit of power now for the sake of saving the world, or for some inexplicable competition? Or is it driven by a hidden resentment within him?

None of that matters; Marek only needs to guide the actors onto the stage.

Moreover, Nalan's decision to take the trial in place of Ye Shuang was not entirely "selfless".

Perhaps there's some ulterior motive involved? For example, admiration.

But is this one-sided affection, and the other person only sees him as a friend... or something else entirely?

Ah, I don't know. I guess even Nalan herself doesn't know or can't judge her position in Ye Shuang's heart.

But even so, they are still willing to make sacrifices, which is truly "great".

But it could also be described as foolish and a waste of emotion.

"So, what is the trial?" Nalan asked impatiently.

"Mr. Nalan, have you heard of the 'Battle of Life and Death'?" Marek said loudly, spreading his arms slightly as if spotlights were shining on him and an audience was waiting for his words. While Marek was encouraging Nalan, Bray was still troubled by the mundane affairs of a group of mathematics physicists.

The way they surrounded them was as if they were willing to risk their lives.

Bray could only use his relatively nimble longsword to fend off the ferocious crowd.

However, this is not a long-term solution.

Bray had already fought with Gurid, and then came to kill another Aragami, so he was basically exhausted.

He really didn't have the energy to deal with so many ordinary people.

"Dead fish eyes, looks like you're in trouble?" A cold female voice came from above.

It was a proud female voice, as melodious as a nightingale's song.

A woman with long black hair sat on the edge of the rooftop above, resting her chin on her hand and looking down at Bray.

"It's you?" Bray looked up amidst his busy schedule and was surprised to find that it was someone he hadn't expected.

No, it should be called an unexpected angel.

Unlike the normal blonde-haired, white-winged angels, the one speaking to Bray was Aphrena, who had once become a fallen angel.

However, Beatrix was nowhere to be seen beside her.

“Are you surprised?” Aphrena said.

"A little, since we didn't see Beatrix."

"You really are a weirdo, focusing on this instead," Afrena retorted.

But Aphrena didn't tell Bray where Betley had gone.

However, in Bray's opinion, Betley probably had nothing else to do besides killing people.

"Need any help?" Afraina's lips curled into a playful smile. Bray looked to be in trouble, a trouble that she could easily resolve.

"Yes." Bray didn't hesitate for a second and honestly stated his needs.

"..." At this point, Avrena was speechless.

Things didn't go as she expected; she originally intended to struggle and hesitate for a while.

Who would have thought that this guy would agree without even hesitating?

"Could you hesitate for a moment?"

“What’s there to hesitate about?” Bray asked, puzzled, before struggling against the crowd.

He didn't feel the pressure of the battle; instead, he felt like he'd been thrown into a vegetable market and was about to be crushed to death.

If he had any extra energy, he would definitely throw a sword to disperse the crowd.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the extra energy to control the power.

Bray didn't want to accidentally kill someone.

"..." Aphrena was speechless; indeed, there was nothing to hesitate about.

"Since you put it that way, I'll take care of these small fry for you." Having followed Betley, who was always killing, Afrena was relatively easy to kill as well.