I’m Really Not The Demon God’s Lackey Chapter 244: Fear

Chapter 244: Fear

Rumble…
Boulders tumbled, glaciers collapsed. The entire mountain range unleashed a deafening roar as the titanic giant broke free from the mountain and sat up.
At this point it became apparent that the mountain range was in fact a throne and the giant was currently leaning on it, in a seemingly contemplative posture.
Perhaps he had been deep in thought for far too long that the throne turned into permafrost as he was enfolded within the elements of nature and became one with the mountains.
Only now was he finally awakened.
Evidently, Michael had come prepared. He was standing right at the edge of the throne, on the ridge with the least debris.
Although some of the boulders crashed right into him, they were disintegrated by the light emanating around him. He held his position, motionless, allowing his white robe and blonde hair to dance freely in the wind.
He looked upwards at the awakened giant and called out, “Augustus, do you know why I’m here?”
Slater Augustus.
‘Ancient King of Sacred Sound,' 'Black Emperor,' 'Dragon Linguist,' 'Last Descendant of Giants'—these were all titles given to him.
He had even more ridiculous appellations due to how long he had been around, but these few were the most representative.
He was also known as the Kingdom of Giants to some because he had already fused with his throne, which was also the last territory of the Kingdom of Giants.
In the northern highlands, within the mountain ranges bordering the Wall of Fog, he alone was a kingdom.
Of course, this title implied that Augustus possessed the strength to match an entire kingdom.
As one of the only three Supreme-ranked black magicians recorded in history, there was no doubt about Augustus’s power. Besides being well-versed in magic, him being a giant provided an additional edge of exceptional physical abilities.
In fact, he was said to be a Supreme-rank with no shortcomings.
Although the grading list of the Truth Union didn’t rank individuals, Augustus was widely considered by many to be the strongest of all.
However, to Michael, this was a hilarious take.
Augustus was undoubtedly formidable, but the Path of the Flaming Sword had no lack of powerhouses able to hold their own.
Just that it wasn’t known to many.
Even Michael himself had the confidence to defeat Augustus—with the pretext of advance preparation, expending all, and being mentally prepared to face death.
However, old beings like him cherished their lives. None of them would be keen for a fight to the death with someone of an equivalent rank. Such a foolish act was a losing deal and absolutely pointless.
But who would have imagined coming across that terrifying fellow…
Michael couldn’t help but be reminded of his recent encounter. Although it had just been a clone sent to the bookstore, he was still unable to shake off the feeling of being completely dominated.
“Oh… Michael?”
The giant who had awoken from his slumber within the mountain range called out with a deep voice resembling the low pitch of a pipe organ as it dispersed the surrounding clouds.
He blinked his eyes, and plenty of rocks, trees, and soil fell.
His eyes were profound like an obsidian, brimming with wisdom as they reflected the tiny white-robed person with blonde hair before him.
As Augustus moved his head, the crown he wore revealed itself.
The crown was black like a charred piece of wood, and the cracks on it flickered as though on fire.
Augustus did a little recalling and remembered that he had dozed off after pondering about a really boring spell just after he had sent off his previous disciple…
And this slumber went on for a full thirty years.
As he recalled, the little fellow named Wilde had probably found an extraordinary place within the trajectories of fate.
That tiny pebble after being cast off had created ripples in succession.
He soon realized that this old friend standing before him bore the ‘stains’ of fate as well. With a smile, Augustus asked, “Did you wake me up just to show me your pathetic beaten-up state?”
Augustus pretended to ponder, chuckling slightly before giving an earnest comment, “I must say, it was certainly entertaining.”
Michael knew that Augustus was aware of his clone’s encounter. Despite knowing the nature of the giant, his face sullened as he was reminded of that unpleasant experience. “Cut your terrible humor. I almost forgot that I cannot beat around the bush with you.”
He knocked his crimson cross against the ground and questioned, “Who exactly is that bookstore owner?”
“I have no idea,” Augustus replied with a shake of his head.
Michael retorted in disbelief, “No idea? The gargoyle definitely belongs to you, right?”
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“It is my previous disciple’s masterpiece, pretty good eh?” Augustus seemed to be reveling in nostalgia.
Michael stared at him. “That was before your slumber, which was at least thirty years ago? You definitely saw the final direction he was headed through the gargoyle.
“I’m not familiar with measuring the trajectories of fate. To me, when my clone entered the bookstore, the threads of destiny within that bookstore were invisible. But, you probably saw me through the gargoyle and I don’t believe that you had nothing to do with this.
“Furthermore, the bookstore owner appears to have connections with the Ancient Dragon, Bakak. Surely, you know that fellow?”
In the face of Michael’s questioning, Augustus replied with a slight smile, “Bakak is dead.”
“I personally experienced the Calamity Dragon’s aura. You probably saw that, right? It was ‘certainly entertaining’ indeed.”
He was implying that Bakak wasn’t dead, or rather, the one who died wasn’t Bakak but someone who assumed that identity.
Augustus adjusted his posture. “Bakak is indeed dead. But, he was once an anointed of Witch Silver. After death, he became a tree in her icy frost dream realm. He had a good death.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed.
“So,” Augustus continued, “He isn’t associated with Bakak but rather with the Primordials.”
Michael’s heart started to race. When he founded the Path of the Flaming Sword, the thing he was most afraid of was the Primordial Witch of the dream realm awakening… This was because he wanted to pry open the dream realm, which was the exact opposite of what the Primordial Witch did back then.
In the end, the Witches didn’t awaken, but a more malicious being with apparent ties to the Witch emerged instead.
“You are saying, he is sent by the Witches…”
“I don’t know,” August denied immediately.
He then let out a purposeful sigh. “You were right about something. I did in fact see the threads of destiny via the gargoyle, but that was where I stopped. I wanted to let my disciple take his own course, so I did not look into it any further.”
He could have, but he didn’t.
It definitely wasn’t because the Ancient King of Scared Sound lacked a curious heart.
But rather, it was because of… fear.
Michael was at a loss for words, and a shiver went down his spine at that instant.
“Also—-”
Augustus extended his hand and pointed afar. “One of your fellow angel comrades seems to think that not cooperating with that bookstore owner is a good idea. Aren’t you going to stop him?”