Ren got a taste of what it felt like to play "Eagle Catches Chick," but he was the chick, and it was unbearable.
Their height kept rising, the ground growing distant, and the coastline starting to curve below them.
"Where are you taking me?" Ren shouted.
"My collection. But it's the first time I've collected a living one. Don't bore me, or you'll remain here as just a head," Jibril replied after a moment's thought.
Hearing those words, Ren broke into a cold sweat. She was basically a ticking time bomb. No wonder they called it "Chicken Stewed with Mushrooms."
Soon, Jibril brought Ren back to where the Flügel Race resided.
"Jibril, what did you bring back, nyan? An Monkey? Or Werebeast?" a Flügel Race member flew up to Jibril, joking around.
"Hey, what are you—an Monkey?" Jibril finally looked at Ren, still unsure of his race.
"I'm a member of Monkey Race," Ren answered without hesitation. He wouldn't reveal he was Immanity for the sake of dignity. He trusted these high-ranking beings wouldn't investigate him.
"Really a Monkey, huh," Jibril said, clearly uninterested.
"Jibril, you collected a Monkey, nyan. Hahaha, this is hilarious," Azril laughed heartily.
Jibril's temper flared, wanting to kill Ren on the spot. She had never been good with Azril, and now it was even worse.
"Jibril, I heard you caught a living Monkey. What's it like?" other Flügel Race members asked, gathering around.
Seeing their curious eyes, Ren felt like an animal in a zoo. These women probably wanted to dissect him to study him.
"Is that important? Can I play with it?" another Flügel Race member pleaded.
"No," Jibril refused immediately. This was her collection. She quickly grabbed Ren and returned to her storage area, which housed the heads of various races, including a Dragonia one placed in the most prominent spot.
Luckily, Ren was used to seeing dead bodies in this world, so he wasn't shocked—just a little uneasy at the thought of living surrounded by nothing but heads. Many of the species were Immanityoid.
Jibril then said, "Tell me all the functions of those glasses."
"Can you give me a book?" Ren shook his head.
"Oh? The Monkey dares to bargain?" Jibril's expression turned dangerous.
"Just give me some books to pass the time, that's all. It won't cost you anything, right? Besides, I'll tell you everything." Ren sighed.
This feeling of being powerless was unpleasant. The other party was a weapon of war, far too strong.
Although he had shared power with his other selves, he didn't know the true extent of his own strength. There was no benchmark.
Jibril immediately used spatial movement to leave. Soon after, she returned carrying a large number of books. Ren explained all the functions of the glasses, and Jibril also gave him all the books.
Hearing the explanation, Jibril was extremely surprised. She hadn't expected such a small pair of glasses to hide so many functions. She then dropped Ren and went off on her own to study them.
Looking at the surrounding heads, Ren swallowed hard. Life here was too harsh.
Luckily, there wasn't much black ash around. With proper clothing, he didn't have to worry about that.
He picked up a book from the Flügel Race, frowning. He had to start learning their language again.
After just one day, Ren realized a serious problem—there was no food. The Flugel race didn't eat at all, leaving Ren feeling helpless.
Here, the only food he could accept was the head of Dragonia, but eating it would undoubtedly result in a horrible death.
So Ren threw himself into the books again to distract himself. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he could barely understand the Flügel Race's writings, guessing meanings from context.
Without books in other languages to compare, learning was extremely difficult. He wasn't some blank-slate genius.
The sun rose and set, repeating several cycles, before Ren finally saw Jibril again.
"Finally, you're here," Ren said weakly.
"Is the Monkey about to die?" Jibril asked, puzzled.
"Yes. I need food. Can I eat this?" Ren pointed at the Dragonia's head.
"Heh." Jibril let out a cold laugh, tossing both him and the books into a spatial tunnel. Ren appeared in another location.
Unfortunately, there was still no food. The Flügel Race didn't need to eat. Ren sighed in resignation. This was the second time he nearly starved.
Jibril drew her scythe. Ultimately, she was only curious about Ren and had no other intentions. If he became useless, she wouldn't hesitate to collect his head.
"Go stew your chicken with mushrooms," Ren cursed inwardly, then said aloud, "If you kill me, you won't even know why the God of War Artosh lost."
Jibril froze mid-swing, glaring at Ren with fury. How dare he speak the lord's name directly? Unforgivable. But what he said couldn't be ignored. The God of War lost?
You must not call him by name.
A massive sense of oppression struck, and Jibril immediately dropped to one knee and lowered her head.
"Weak one, interesting. Do you truly believe I will lose?" The God of War's voice was flat, without any rise or fall.
"Hmm, God of War, you do not understand the ways of the weak, nor the wars of the weak."
Facing that suffocating presence, Ren answered smoothly, even though he was already very hungry.
"I see. I have waited too long, weak one. I look forward to this war you speak of." The voice calmed, and the sky cleared into brilliant sunlight. It was the first time Ren had ever seen the sun—so this world really had sunlight.
At that moment, a large number of Flügel Race rushed over, surrounding Jibril.
"What happened, nyan? Why would Lord Artosh say something like that?" Azril flew back and forth between the two, seeming desperate to understand what had just happened.
Only then did Ren feel a sense of calm. With words like those from the God of War, he knew he would not die.
But trouble would follow—likely these Flügel—and it would be best if he could make things easier for other Immanity colonies.
"Why would Lord Artosh say such a thing?" Jibril could not understand.
Why would he look forward to the battle of a weakling? She could easily take Ren's head, yet he spoke in that way. She really could not comprehend it.
"Monkey, what did you do, nyan?" Azril looked at Ren, somewhat angry.
"I'm hungry." Ren thought it best to deal with that problem first, or he might starve before anything else.
Jibril grabbed Ren by the corner of his clothes and led him through a spatial tunnel toward the ground.
Fortunately, Ren had wrapped himself tightly outside, or else the black ash would have been enough to overwhelm him.
"Monkey, why would Lord Artosh approve of the war you speak of? You are so weak that touching this air could kill you. So weak that I could leave you alone and you would still die. So weak that I could kill you easily without using Heavenly Smite. Why?" Jibril could not understand.
Ren looked at her, slightly stunned. Other Flügel would never believe it, but Jibril was different. It seemed that the Exceptional Unit truly was something unique.
"Why are you so certain? Why would He believe?" Jibril continued to ask.
It was the first time Ren had seen Jibril lose her composure like this. He then said, "Let's play a game. Win against me, and I'll tell you everything."
"Alright." Rarely did Jibril accept without coercion, but this time she agreed to Ren's game.
**********
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