Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 546: Hiding

Sophia's voice held a subtle edge, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Dia, who had been silent, moved closer, leaning in to read over Amber's shoulder. Her lips thinned as she followed the words on the page.

"They even left Ethan in a state of uncertainty," she murmured, her voice dropping low.

Sophia let out a sharp scoff, straightening up and crossing her arms tightly.

"Naturally," she retorted, her tone dripping with mockery and coldness. "That way, they can deploy him whenever the mood strikes."

She turned her gaze to the others, a sharp glint flashing in her eyes.

"This is no mere accident," she declared, her voice lowering but resonating with significance.

Selene, who had been quietly observing, lifted her head. "They are preparing for every eventuality," she stated, her voice gentle yet clear. "Should he return safely, they can utilize him. If anything untoward occurs, they can simply cast him aside."

A heavy silence descended upon the room, no one daring to speak, for each understood Selene's implication.

No one offered any dissent.

Sophia exhaled sharply, running her fingers through her hair with a restless, almost agitated, motion.

"Damn the Empire..." she breathed, the words a low curse.

"They always pull this," she added.

Her anger refused to abate; instead, contemplation only fueled its growth, her expression growing progressively colder.

Her gaze returned to the document, lingering on the passages concerning Ethan and Hale. Her jaw clenched.

"This is utter garbage," she stated, her voice now a low growl, imbued with a dangerous undertone.

Amber slowly set the document down, resting her hand on the table. While her outward display of anger was subdued, her eyes held a profound seriousness.

"We cannot afford to react rashly," she advised calmly, her voice firm. "They are already shaping the narrative."

Julia nodded slightly, casting a glance towards Sophia.

"And if we act out of pure anger, we'll only play directly into their hands," she concurred.

Dia folded her arms, her gaze sweeping over the others, her expression taut.

"Still, we cannot simply ignore this," she pointed out softly.

Sophia remained silent for a moment, her chest rising and falling slowly as she regained control of her breathing.

Then, she spoke again.

"I understand," she affirmed, her voice steadier now, though the anger still simmered beneath.

She met each of their eyes in turn.

"But if they believe they can pin everything on him and walk away scot-free..."

Her eyes narrowed, sharp as shards of ice.

"...they are mistaken."

The room fell quiet once more, but this silence carried a different weight.

It was not the silence of helplessness.

Nor was it the silence of confusion.

It was a silence imbued with potent anger, resolute control, and an unwavering determination.

And at its heart stood Sophia, outwardly calm but inwardly consumed by a tempest that had only intensified.

Indeed, her innate rebellious spirit surged within her more fiercely than ever before.

Rebellion... for reasons unclear, she felt an overwhelming urge to defy.

'As expected, regardless of the Empire, everyone is nothing but detestable trash.'

... Meanwhile, as the world reeled from the shocking news, in a distant, desolate corner of the Demon territory, deep within a secluded and dimly lit cave, a figure stirred, opening his eyes after a period of rest.

The cave was a place of cold silence, illuminated only by the faint, flickering light of a few crystals embedded in its walls, casting uneven shadows across the ground. The air was thick with the scent of blood and potent medicine, the lingering traces of a recent battle still palpable.

The man slowly sat up, his movements heavy, betraying the lingering effects of his injuries. His breathing was deep and steady, yet a profound exhaustion clung to his posture.

Without a moment's delay, he reached for several small vials resting beside him.

His fingers, slightly stained, were firm as he swiftly uncorked each vial, draining their contents one after another without pause.

The liquid burned savagely as it descended his throat, but his expression remained largely impassive.

Finishing the last vial, he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, turning his head slightly.

Adjacent to him, another figure lay prone on the cave floor.

This individual was in a significantly worse state.

Wounds covered his body, his breaths were shallow and irregular, and faint streaks of dried blood marred his clothing. His face was pale, and even the simple act of keeping his eyes open appeared to be an immense effort.

The man who had just consumed the vials picked up another, leaning forward slightly.

"Drink this," he instructed quietly.

He uncorked the vial and carefully administered its contents to the injured man, ensuring not a drop was wasted.

The injured man let out a light cough as the liquid passed his throat, his body spasming briefly before settling.

Silence resumed its reign.

For several long seconds, neither spoke.

The man who had been seated there then slightly inclined his head, his eyes growing vacant as if an internal turmoil had yet to subside.

Disbelief was evident in his stare.

A profound, lingering incredulity.

"I find it hard to accept that we endured such a devastating blow," he uttered, his voice hushed yet burdened with weight.

As he spoke, his hand sinched into a slight fist, and his shoulders drew taut.

"This is beyond comprehension... and utterly unforgivable."

His respiration quickened subtly, his gaze descending as spectral recollections of the battlefield seemed to flicker through his mind.

"I refuse to accept this," he pressed on, his tone growing more strained.

"Yet, the harsh truth... the loss of a hundred thousand souls so readily... sits poorly with me as their commander."

He halted momentarily after these words, his fingers constricting further against his knee.

Then, his head gradually rose.

His focus swept forward.And landed upon the figure with white hair.

That individual remained seated placidly, and in stark opposition to the oppressive ambiance surrounding them, a subtle smirk graced his features, as though the predicament failed to burden him in equal measure.

The disparity was stark.

A slight hardening of the first man's expression occurred as he regarded the other.

An uncomfortable silence then permeated the space between them, the cave's tension intensifying as the wavering luminescence painted dancing shadows across their visages.