Chapter 45: Mr. thousand faces Sends His Regards
Nairn used—[Deception · Amon], performing [Intimidation] on Pales!
It's super effective!
Pales has lost the will to fight!
"It seems my performance was quite successful."
Nairn whispered to himself; his voice wasn't loud, yet it fell clearly into the ears of everyone in the club.
He lazily withdrew that gaze which was enough to unsettle anyone's mind, as if that [Deception] show—which was enough to make even a Sequence 1 Angel tremble with fear—was nothing more than a casual impromptu performance.
Then, he looked at the consistently silent Klein, a flash of craftiness in his eyes that only the latter could decipher.
It worked.
Klein's facial expression management remained impeccable, but the understanding deep within his eyes betrayed the waves in his heart.
He's playing again.
And this time, the stakes are even higher.
On the other side, Leonard seemed to have just jolted awake from a drowning nightmare. Snapping back to his senses, he yanked the Monocle off his face and hurled it toward the corner of the room as if throwing away a piece of red-hot iron.
A crisp "clatter" rang out, sounding exceptionally piercing in the dead silent room.
"Old man! What do we do! We've been seen through! Who exactly is he?!" Leonard roared frantically in his mind, trying to wake the ancient existence that had always been his source of confidence.
However, this time, the familiar, ever-chattering old grandfather had fallen into a deathly silence.
It wasn't that Pales didn't want to respond; He simply didn't dare!
He had been toyed with.
Completely toyed with by an imitator using Amon's posture!
What made Him feel even more hair-raised was that the pure aura of the "Marauder" Authority had vanished without a trace in that instant.
In its place was a terror He had never felt before—something more ancient, more chaotic, and more indescribable!
It was as if... as if it were an origin point that embraced all things yet was chaotic and disordered, like a supreme being that subverts everything while presiding over all manifestations.
Imitation? No, this was definitely not imitation!
Who would dare to imitate Amon? Who would have the ability to imitate Amon?
This was a power of a higher level, something more fundamental, overlaid upon Amon's Authority!
Pales's cognition was completely overturned at this moment.
A deity?
No, that's not right!
Pales's remaining spirituality trembled violently as a term that, in His long life, had only belonged to legends uncontrollably surfaced in the depths of His consciousness.
[Sefirah]!
If it were truly such an ancient deity walking the earth, or even the incarnation of a Sefirah... then all struggle and resistance would be meaningless.
Pales completely gave up struggling; that bit of remaining pride as a Sequence 1 Angel was crushed to powder in the face of absolute survival instinct.
[Nothing more to say, please act quickly]!
He had made up his mind: even if his identity was completely exposed, he would play dead to the end. This was the most important survival rule He had learned during the long years of being hunted.
When facing an existence that cannot be understood or resisted, the best way is to lower one's presence, turn into a literal "stone," and pray the other party won't take an interest in this smelly, hard piece of junk stone.
"Your 'old grandfather' doesn't seem very willing to come out and chat."
Nairn's voice carried a hint of playful amusement, as if he had seen through Pales's little scheme at a glance.
Leonard only felt an unspeakable sense of absurdity sweep through his entire body.
He had actually witnessed an ancient existence of extremely high status, who had lived for untold ages, have his mental defenses completely shattered and be scared into silence by a seemingly ordinary young man through just a carefully designed "performance."
As for Nairn, within his mental world, the [Chaos Theater] was reveling.
Feedback surged in like a tide; streams of pure "play value" washed over his spiritual body, sweeping away the slight weakness from borrowing the Sefirah's power and even leaving a large surplus.
Comfortable.
Keeping one's own little theater satisfied was just that simple.
A tiny Sequence 1, handled with ease!
Nairn decided to strike while the iron was hot. He took a step forward and, in a tone as if speaking to thin air, whispered:
"Pales."
"Don't you recognize me anymore?"
Who is He? Who exactly is He?!
Pales was frantically searching through his memories, which were so long they were almost decaying, trying to find a face that corresponded to this terrifying existence.
Just then, Nairn's next words caused all of His thoughts to instantly crash.
"When we were little, I was at my house, and you were at yours."
"..."
Pales was completely bewildered.
What does this even mean?
This brand of malicious humor was distinctly different from the feeling of Amon playing with everything in the palm of his hand, yet in a way, they arrived at the same destination through different paths.
But he didn't make a move.
Then it wasn't Amon.
So... keep playing dead!
Exactly, as long as I don't move, danger can't catch up to me!
As one of the Coward Trio pathways, one must have the awareness to hide!
On the other side, Klein was completely dumbfounded.
He stared blankly at Leonard, then at the composed Nairn, as an earth-shattering thought exploded in his mind.
Leonard... also has a cheat?
Is it the 'Old Grandfather' trope?
Emperor Roselle, you big-eyed traitor, did you even bring this classic web novel trope to this world!
No wonder!
No wonder Leonard is always so narcissistic, acting like he's the 'protagonist of the era'; it turns out there really is an expert backing him!
Having figured this out, Klein's gaze was full of complexity when he looked at Leonard again.
As for Leonard, after experiencing the initial shock and fear, he finally forced himself to calm down.
He looked at Nairn, lowered his posture, and asked in a dry voice:
"You... which existence are you exactly?"
He could feel that the one before him was not even in the same league as his own blustering, long-since incomplete old man.
"He" must be terrifyingly powerful, able to handle him with a wave of a hand!
sequence 8? In front of "such an existence," there's absolutely "no power to resist"!
"Mr. 'thousand faces' sends his regards."
The corner of Nairn's mouth curled into a mysterious arc.
He didn't give Leonard time to react. He stepped forward, leaned into his ear, and in a voice that only the two of them (and Pales) could hear, whispered a code.
"Long live the Hermits of Fate!"
Buzz!
Pales's remnant soul felt as if it had been struck by lightning, falling into complete chaos.
What does that mean?!
Hermits of Fate? Aren't those just a bunch of poor wretches being hunted by Amon like street rats?
Since when... did this organization produce a powerhouse who dares to confront (imitate) Amon head-on and even tease an Angel of the Zoroast Family to his face?!
What kind of joke is this!
This isn't logical! This isn't scientific! This isn't mystical!
But regardless, since the other party spoke this code, it meant... they weren't an enemy.
At least, not an accomplice of Amon.
Pales instantly categorized Nairn into the "observable" camp and silently noted a title.
[thousand faces]... is it a new vest used by some ancient existence after awakening?
He decided to accept this "goodwill."
After all, facing an existence that could perfectly play Amon and was suspected to be related to a [Sefirah], He had no second choice but to accept.