When the Grand Sister and the Griffon finally found Al, the Green Knight had disappeared without a trace.
A pack of crimson Flesh Hounds was circling the Everchosen, warily guarding the surroundings. Only after the Grand Sister arrived did they melt into pools of blood and sink into the soil.
And what was Al doing?
Holding the longsword the Green Knight had offered him, he was slashing wildly at the empty air.
His visor was open, his teeth gritted, sporting a look of deep-seated, bitter hatred.
"Archaon——I↓ will↑ kill↑ you↑! A thousand times! Is↓ not↑ enough→!"
Roaring, Al charged down the hill. The arriving Grand Sister stopped him just in time, grabbing him around the waist and picking him up.
Al's sword swung backward with the momentum, but the Grand Sister blocked his arm and cleanly disarmed him.
"Hey! Kid!"
Helen pinched the boy's little face hard. He cried out in pain, blinked, and his gaze gradually cleared.
There was no blood and fire, no destruction, no darkness swallowing everything. Even the terrifying, genuine Three-Eyed King, the Everchosen, was all just an illusion.
Al snapped back to reality.
Clearly, Lileath—the one unwilling to reveal her true identity but highly likely the Old World's number one sockpuppet master, the best sixth man of Chaos, the fifth Chaos God, and the biggest "green tea bitch" (others string along one or a few guys; she strung along Khaine and the entire Kingdom of Bretonnia)—had played a trick on the boy.
It probably wasn't because I called her a "witch" earlier, right?
Al thought to himself.
On his chest, the damage to the Grim Love armor had already repaired itself, showing no signs of having been damaged at all. If it weren't for the exquisite longsword still held in the Grand Sister's hand, everything that just happened would have felt like a hallucination.
Al thanked the Grand Sister, and Helen dubiously set him back down on the ground.
Then the boy immediately started trying to take off his armor. After struggling for a while in a futile effort, he had no choice but to cast a pleading look at the Sister.
"Sigh..."
She suddenly felt he was a bit unreliable.
The Grand Sister sighed, stuck the sword into the ground, and stepped forward to help the boy unequip his armor.
After a short while, Grim Love was finally taken off. Al immediately lifted his shirt and looked at the spot where the arrow had struck.
"Eek!"
A white crescent moon pattern intertwined with a flower garland was conspicuously stamped on Al's chest.
Did I get branded again?
Al felt awful.
The inverted Khorne symbol on the inside of his arm, the All-Knowing Eye between his brows, the Ouroboros on his lower abdomen, and the winged heart tramp stamp (scratch that) below his waist.
Adding now the white moonlight pattern on his chest, plus the bite mark left by the goat mom on his shoulder (which still hadn't completely faded), and a hoofprint left on Al's calf from that time the boy was showing his filial piety a bit too intently and the centaur girl got overly excited and kicked her hoof (it stayed swollen for a long time).
My body is about to become a stamp collection!
If any other god bestows a blessing in the future and tattoos another mark on his body, he might as well stop wearing clothes, just stand naked on the street showing off his tattoos, and believers from all paths will soon flock to him.
If he ran into someone with a clashing mark, a fight might even break out.
"The moon is clearly a blessing from the All-Father!"
"[Elven profanity]! The crescent moon is distinctly the mark of the Moon Maiden!"
And then they might just start fighting over this issue.
The force-marching Beastman legion, led by the Blessed Gorebull, finally arrived late. Finding that the danger had passed and the Everchosen was safe and sound, they rested on the spot and heightened their guard.
Four arms, each one thicker and longer than Al's entire body, capable of easily grabbing Al in her palm and squeezing him into the shape of Kaworu Nagisa [Evangelion reference].
Such a terrifying beast of war, a Bloodmother Vanguard, begged (truly begged) Al in a muffled voice not to ride the Griffon so high and far anymore, lest he encounter an accident where they wouldn't be able to protect him in time from the ground.
Although her loyalty was absolutely unquestionable, Al still felt the pressure and sheepishly scratched his head.
Then, the furious centaur girl also arrived on the scene. A ball of crimson, fiery wind rushed to Al's side, accidentally almost crashing into the Grand Sister along the way, though fortunately the latter dodged in time.
His adoptive mother pulled Al into her arms, smelling the scent on his body and checking him over. Only after confirming there were no injuries did she slowly calm down.
It was obvious that for the rest of the journey, the centaur girl had no intention of letting Al out of her sight.
The Griffon girl lowered her head, wings folded tightly against her body. Looking incredibly wronged under the centaur girl's lingering glare, she walked up to Al and nuzzled her body against the boy.
Her beak opened slightly, letting out a low trill.
Al rubbed the Griffon girl's neck, hugged her, and stroked her.
"Alright, it's not your fault."
He comforted her, and then was scooped up by the centaur girl's arms and placed onto her back.
Having received comfort, the Griffon girl's mood recovered somewhat. She backed away, spread her wings, and took to the sky again to watch for any movement around them.
And it was only at this moment that the Four Mothers—whom Al suspected had been spawn-camped and disconnected from the internet by the four Chaos Gods—finally responded to him.
[Congratulations, my child. You have gained another mother.]
The Reveler's mocking yet incredibly charming voice echoed in Al's mind.
"?!!"
Al suffered the illusion... or was it a prophecy?
After all, Lileath's prophecies seemed to be quite accurate; unfortunately, her methods of dealing with the future mostly looked like she had some serious mental illness.
Still under the influence of the prophecy, his shock and unease hadn't completely vanished. Now, the Reveler's words dealt him another heavy blow.
"What does that mean?"
[That bitch! That crying whore hiding on the moon! One day I will chop off her head and expose her lies to all mortals!]
The Bloodmother's roar, carrying a metallic tang and the sound of countless clashing blades—much like those "Warning: Audio too low" jump scares Al used to see online—suddenly exploded in his ear, making the boy jump. The centaur girl turned her head in confusion, but Al waved his hand.
[Be careful, you scared him.]
A female voice he had never heard before spoke up. Just hearing the voice made one feel like a spring breeze, as if lying on a grassy hill, blowing in a warm breeze, bathed in warm sunlight.
[If he is that fragile—then you should proactively come to me, and I will use the most blazing fury and steel to reforge your weak will, my son!]
The hot-tempered mom was clearly a bit indignant.
"And what about you!"
Al immediately retorted, temporarily setting aside that gentle female voice:
"My great Mother of the Oppressed, why have I never heard before that you also hold the title and domain of the Bestower of Courage, inspiring the oppressed to rebel against injustice and darkness?"
"Should I later help Sister Helen form a 'party' and create a Vanguard Sisterhood in the name of the Bloodmother to inspire the courage to rebel in all the oppressed?"
His mom said nothing.
It seemed Al had guessed correctly.
The Bloodmother was genuinely using the knowledge Al brought from another world to expand new domains and bases for herself.
Think about it:
As Chaos receded, the mortal realm experienced massive development. Technological progress and the industrial revolution were on the rise, but the ruling class was still the same old setup: Nobles + Clergy, and now adding wealthy merchants.
Population exploded, land was annexed, and small farmers went bankrupt.
More and more people from the bottom class left the land, pouring into cities and factories, becoming the price devoured by "progress."
The threat of Chaos had receded, but a new mountain pressed down upon them. This time, unlike before, there was no inherent righteousness in rebelling against it.
But dissatisfaction would not disappear; it would only accumulate. Tens of millions of people, tens of millions of silent, numb, yet ignitable, explosive souls.
His conversation with the Sister made Al suddenly realize this critical issue.
As the world moved forward, new contradictions were constantly breeding, and new emotional powers that the Four Gods could absorb were also constantly being generated.
If the decaying order could no longer be maintained, the moment the contradictions detonated and flames swept across the land:
The Mother of Mad Rage, the Blood God;
The hot-tempered mom who always looked angry at her child;
The God of Courage, the God of Trials, the God of Rebels, the Protector of the Weak, the Mother who inspires the oppressed to smash their shackles;
She would use this to leap into becoming the most powerful of the Four Mother Goddesses!
Because at that time, wherever the fiery red wave reached, it would be her domain, and tens of millions of brave people rising up in rebellion would be warriors under the Bloodmother's banner!
Having obtained such a massive, impassioned, and incredibly noble and pure infusion of positive emotion, the Bloodmother would become a Chaos God surpassing even Tzeentch at his peak (Al guessed to himself). What End Times?
Billions of the Mortal Realm's Crimson Legions, carrying billions of red flags, furiously storming into the Realms of Chaos, stringing up the armies of the Four Chaos Gods and beating them, making Greater Daemons exclaim that the Chaos Pills are invincible—a reverse-Daemon End Times?
It truly was a grand, romantic, and magnificent ambition.
Al sighed with emotion, but the Bloodmother still didn't make a peep.
It seemed that "borrowing ideas" without actively telling Al was indeed a bit embarrassing.
Unfortunately, not to mention the mortal gods and those four big brothers in the Realm of Chaos, even the other three Goddesses probably wouldn't want the Bloodmother to achieve such a goal, shining like the midday sun, standing above all gods.
Al...
Al remained noncommittal.
The four Goddesses called him "son" left and right, and the treatment he received was genuinely like a son's. So he was more than happy to play the part: "Al has wandered for eighteen years without meeting a wise lord. Now that I am not cast aside, I am willing to bow to my four mothers!" (Lu Bu reference).
As a son, when his four moms discussed matters, he naturally leaned toward whichever side had more people.
Of course, he had to try to keep the initiative in his own hands as much as possible.
Although what he guessed was "The Bloodmother's Grand Plan."
It actually fit his education quite well, and was quite harmonious with Al's own worldview. Al wanted to be comfortable himself, and try not to make others uncomfortable; if he was happy, it was best if everyone else could be happy too.
But because doing that would probably trigger a massive world-spanning battle royale in minutes—where the Bloodmother couldn't even protect herself, let alone his scrawny arms and legs—he held a pessimistic attitude toward the Bloodmother's plan.
However, if this method could expand the power of the Four Mothers, Al approved of it too.
As long as it didn't turn into "From Lothern of the Elves to Altdorf of the Empire, from Wei-Jin of Cathay to Karaz-a-Karak of the Silver Road, an iron curtain, an iron curtain piercing through the world has descended across the mortal realm."
"In order to besiege this holy specter..." [Communist Manifesto reference]
That would be fine.