Bro, I'm not an Undead!

820 Familiar Enemy



Moments later, Replicus and Pherdanta were seated a couple of meters away from the Mad Bishop and her guards. The old woman had insisted on positioning herself close to the Penetrator, and starting dubious conversations with him despite abruptly attacking him earlier.

It was an all in good fun, after all. At least that's how she put it.

The Mad Bishop reminded Replicus of Sila a lot, at least how he was before he retained a modicum of his sanity later on, following his takeover of Skullius' body.

No one knew exactly what caused the Mad Bishop to switch between madness and sanity so spontaneously, but shockingly, it had worked in her favour for the last hundred or so years. Despite how the other Faction leaders felt about her temperament and behaviour, they had respect for her. It wasn't as though she was stupid after all.

Deep within that ocean of dark, abysmal thoughts – bread and all – was a level of lucidity that most of those allowed to set foot in the Coliseum, had grown to acknowledge as not to be trifled with. It could only be expected of the supposed oldest Faction leader there was.

"Isn't it fantastic, Bright Storm? It's been a while since we all gathered like this?" the Mad Bishop said.

"No it hasn't," Replicus said with a distant voice. "What do you reckon we've been called for?"

The Mad Bishop bobbed her head childishly before putting on a thoughtful look that also contested against her aged visage.

"Who knows? Perhaps it's to give us compliments, bread, and send us on our merry way!"

"How optimistic."

"Is it?" the Mad Bishop wore a sly smile, and swiped her hand to produce a large loaf of bread which she began to eat without the slightest impression of etiquette.

Replicus only gave a glance and looked away.

'That obsession will never end, huh?' Replicus thought.

The Mad Bishop was the one responsible for Replicus' rapid progress from being contracted to owning his own Faction. Indeed, the method he had used was based on his experience with people who could smell talent from miles away, and thus Replicus had made himself very attractive – skill wise.

Since he commandeered Kenno's operation, which had already been under contract with the Mad Bishop, the speedy way in which he accomplished all jobs assigned, mostly by delegating them to his subordinates – mainly Ferex – had earned him an audience with the old woman very quickly.

She just had to see the one responsible for the progress in the tasks she set for her Faction.

A short while later, Replicus had gotten well acquainted with the Mad Bishop, her madness, and her suspicious obsession with bread.

When dealing with the old woman, things became rather easy for him. Unlike other Faction leaders, who were more likely to apply too much logic, the Mad Bishop had an easy chord to fondle. All one needed to do was get on the same wavelength as her, and it wouldn't be too hard to get into her good books.

Maintaining this connection was the hard part though. Even the Mad Bishop's guards couldn't stand having such odd, lengthy conversations.

But Replicus could. It took a whole month, but the Mad Bishop became so enthralled by Replicus' presence that she asked him – as a mutually insane friend – a desire of his. Not wasting the chance, Replicus had spoke up.

He wanted his own Faction.

The Mad Bishop wasn't against it, but it wasn't she who got to decide that.

It was the Head Faction – the oldest and strongest Faction – which oversaw the 33 other Factions, as well as the Severed Union itself, which decided that.

As Replicus wondered about the Bishop's lust for bread, a doorway shaped from light appeared on the field below, and several figures walked out.

Another shapely light appeared on another section of the field, then another and another.

The other Faction leaders were arriving, all having different kinds of shapes, genders and varying degrees of company.

Replicus looked on with keen sockets.

Unlike the Mad Bishop, most of the other Faction leaders weren't as sociable. There was no chatter and greeting. All of them simply scaled the stairs at various points around the Coliseum and reached suitable spots to sit.

Speaking of the odd structure, the Severed Coliseum was a special location outside the four portions of the Severed Union. It could only be accessed by a Faction leader's Union Seal, which was different from the Seals gifted to common combatants within the Severed Union.

Replicus would have felt like he had earned a grand achievement by being privileged enough to access spaces like this, but here, he had to manage his ego.

Each of every one of the Faction leaders were Incandescent Stage experts, and powerful ones at that.

The only reason Replicus had been deemed worth of a position as the 34th Faction leader, was because he had exposed powers that could contend with the might of Faction leaders and even explained how they worked to the Head Faction.

It was terribly dangerous, but he considered it a necessary sacrifice. Before this, he had been subjected to a series of trials, which, while he completed well, had been insufficient. In order to capitalise, Replicus sweetened how attractive he was, and exposed how useful he could be.

Yes. It was worth it.

The amount of resources open to him as a Faction leader helped with his cause, and almost offset what he had to reveal.

Furthermore, when he finally fused back with Skullius, his first order of business was going to be cutting ties with this organisation.

He believed the power he would get then, was enough to make him powerful even enough to contend with most forces on Aigas.

'Tsk...' Replicus was disgusted when his mind drifted back Skullius.

He turned his attention to the new arrivals. There was one he was especially eager to see. Since the Factions didn't get to interact much, this was one of the only chances he had to see that person.

As expected, this individual showed up.

Among the last Factions to show, a man dressed in a strange attire – robes that were almost as stiff as wood, along with tall-sole slippers that looked as though they made of clay – appeared. A strange, round, smooth edged crystal with hues of black and white hung around his neck, and it seemed to be in use, as the light glow of mana around the man interacted with it.

Four guards walked beside this man, an extremely bulky man with large hands, two thin and masked figures with the exact same body proportions... and a man with draped grey hair and a handlebar moustache.

Replicus' focus fell on this grey haired man in particular.

And...

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