Unholy Player Chapter 534 Henry's Plan (Part 2)

Before Henry had a chance to respond, Zephan shifted his attention to her and replied in his place. "It's a location that would leave you and the whole Blood Sect filled with regret for even inquiring about it."

The menace hidden in those words hit her clearly. A grin stretched over her shadowy features, exposing her sharp, evenly spaced teeth like tiny saws. "Oh? Believe me, you'll regret it far more if you don't spill the details right this instant."

As a follower of the Blood Sect, she knew well that though it wasn't the mightiest faction in the Midlands, it held enough strength to clash directly with major clans and groups. Its sway was vast, capable of unlocking paths and snuffing out existences with ease.

Thus, facing a threat not only against herself but her whole sect sparked a fierce anger within her.

"You insignificant Lunari obviously have no clue about the Midlands. A Rank 4 like you amounts to little more than a mere insect there," she mocked, intent on teaching this backwater fool the true might he was up against.

Within the Outer Region, Rank 4 Practitioners dominated as the elite. But in the Midlands, they served as mere underlings, handling the grimy tasks for their clans and factions, overshadowed by far greater powers.

Yet to her astonishment, Zephan appeared utterly unmoved by her taunts. He dismissed them entirely, merely releasing a faint sigh.

"And your Blood Sect obviously has no idea what the Central Region truly entails."

Arvyn's smug expression hardened in an instant, as though the statement had jabbed at a hidden vulnerability. "What rubbish are you spouting?"

It stood as a land whispered to house Sages, Demigods, and their kin.

Whispered, since even Arvyn lacked true knowledge of it. She'd never stepped foot in that realm throughout her existence. She hadn't even encountered anyone who'd journeyed there, rendering it a remote and mythical domain.

Not even their Sect Leader, formidable and commanding as she was, possessed the authority to enter such a forbidden zone.

This area lay near the Abyss Line's boundary. Tales described it as the origin point for all deities. For many, it evoked the ultimate destination, a realm reserved for those aspiring to divine ascension, beyond the grasp of mortal laws.

Although the Blood Sect labored to birth their own deity, it involved reviving a long-extinct ancient God. Uncertainty clouded how much strength He might reclaim upon revival. The timeline remained unknown, as did whether He'd emerge unchanged.

Thus, for now, the Central Region stayed utterly out of their grasp. It was discussed only in hushed tones.

This explained why a casual mention from a Rank 4 in this spot gave her cause to doubt her own hearing.

Liora couldn't hold back a chuckle at the bewilderment etched on Arvyn's countenance, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "So you arrived here oblivious to the fact that this domain is under the control of someone from the Central Region? Sadly, he's probably returned to his origins by now, carrying off your prized possession. If retrieval is your goal, you'll need to head there and demand it yourself."

"Nonsense!" Arvyn bellowed, certain they were fabricating tales to sow doubt and terror in her heart.

Kaelor, on the other hand, viewed it differently. "So the master of this territory hails from that place. It all clicks now."

"What do you mean? You aren't falling for their deception, are you?" Arvyn barked, baffled by the thoughts churning in that fume-emitting metallic skull.

Kaelor at last pulled his eyes from the drone and fixed them on the

unmoving Throgar. "Don't you find it odd already that a Gemnarch is stationed here guarding these territories?"

The Gemnarch formed a Midlands race famed for their reclusive ways. They shunned interactions with outsiders except in dire necessity. Venturing from their native lands to safeguard some worthless patch of ground was unthinkable without compelling cause.

Noting Arvyn's lingering doubt and resistance to accept it, Kaelor extended a metallic digit toward the drone. His tone deepened with gravity.

"And that device... it's the work of a genuine Creator's genius alone. I spent my whole existence hunting for such a gifted individual."

He dipped his head and met Arvyn's gaze once more. His words rasped like clashing metallic cogs. "Yet the one area I overlooked in my search was the Central Region."

Clearly, the drone's maker had to originate from the Central Region.

Henry, tuned in via the drone's audio feed, rode a whirlwind of emotions. He tracked each twist, pushing his thoughts to match the pace.

However, the final exchange prompted a pivot in his reflections.

Creator? Talent? Is this machine referring to some innate skill in crafting devices?

This revelation offered key insights. It suggested that even in the Midlands, tech hadn't progressed to craft basic aerial gadgets.

Such details proved crucial. It implied that as humans expanded into the Midlands later on, their edge from superior tech would remain substantial.

A throbbing ache began to pulse through Arvyn's head as conviction slowly took hold.

"This was meant to be a straightforward task. We just needed to arrive, eliminate any obstacles in our path, and carry the treasure back to the sect..." she whispered in despair.

Had it been solely a Gemnarch impeding them, they could have handled it. They'd dispatch him if he refused to yield, given the mission's vital importance over any pause.

But with a Central Region native involved, advancing turned utterly unfeasible. Even their sect leader's presence wouldn't lead to rash action. She'd deliberate repeatedly—thrice, four times—before deciding. Provoking such a figure even mildly could doom them beyond their God's revival.

A force of that magnitude might obliterate them prior to His awakening.

Yet failing and returning without results wasn't viable either. The sect would ensure their demise. Ultimately, every path converged on ruin, leaving Arvyn ensnared in a profound dilemma.

Observing the pair mired in uncertainty and a no-win bind, Henry swiftly evaluated the scene.

The compact drone drifted nearer and addressed them. "Apologies for taking it without realizing it belonged to you." The holographic visage displayed sincere remorse, bordering on embarrassment.

"Share your reasons for pursuing the treasure, and perhaps we can make amends." Naturally, his notion of "amends" was insincere. His true aim was uncovering their frantic pursuit's motive and their underlying schemes.

Arvyn held her tongue. No way would she divulge their secrets lightly, as they outweighed her very existence.

Kaelor, however, responded without delay. He addressed the drone as if greeting a long-lost sibling. "We require it to revive a God. The lord of the Blood Path."