Chapter 367: Confrontation

Atlas snapped his eyes open, his vision gradually returning after the sudden blackout he had experienced the moment he disappeared. He looked around and found himself surrounded by several unfamiliar human faces, all of whom were staring at him with confused expressions.

’Hmm? Where am I?’ he wondered, only to notice that six people were standing on either side of the massive room, their attention fixed entirely on him.

Just as he was about to examine his surroundings more closely and question the people present, he felt the solid surface beneath him and realized that he was sitting on a throne. At that moment, a flood of memories suddenly rushed into his mind, interrupting his thoughts and forcing him to process an enormous amount of unfamiliar information.

These were not his memories, but those of a king who ruled an empire known as Eldrion.

The memories revealed that the Empire of Eldrion was currently at war with the Kingdom of Razathor. Throughout the conflict, the king’s army had been suffering devastating losses, with soldiers being slaughtered one after another as though the enemy knew every detail about Eldrion’s current military position.

Atlas also experienced the king’s remorse over the deaths of his soldiers, feeling the weight of the lives lost under his command.

Even more memories soon flooded his mind, revealing that the king’s family had also been slaughtered by the Kingdom of Razathor. ’Ughh, what are these memories? Whose even are they?!’

Atlas couldn’t help but grimace as an incredible pain spread through his mind. The memories were simply too vast, containing experiences accumulated over more than fifty years, possibly even hundreds of years, all rushing into his consciousness at once.

"King Brundhamel! What’s the matter?! Are you in pain?!" A man standing to the right of the throne shouted in concern. Hearing his voice, Atlas raised his head while gritting his teeth, trying to endure the lingering pain in his mind.

’Brundhamel... Does my appearance resemble that king?’ he wondered before finally managing to speak.

"What... is this place?" Atlas asked, his voice carrying a hint of strain. The man beside the throne immediately looked confused, and his hands, which had been reaching out to support the king, came to a halt, "This is your throne room, Your Majesty..." he replied hesitantly, unsure why his king was asking such an obvious question.

"Not the room or the empire. I mean, where are this empire and the kingdom located? What is the name of this world?" Atlas interrupted before the man could finish his explanation. The man arched an eyebrow at the unusual question before answering with a slight stammer, "Th-The name of our world is forbidden to speak."

Atlas frowned as the remaining memories finally settled in his mind, allowing him to understand the situation more clearly.

’Forbidden to speak its name...?’ Just as he wondered about that restriction, the name surfaced from the memories he had received. ’Zephrost?’ With that, Atlas finally began to grasp the circumstances in which he had found himself.

’...Was I transported into this kind of situation? What sort of test is this?’ He had expected the construct to test his capabilities, but he hadn’t anticipated being placed in the body and circumstances of a king embroiled in a war.

Atlas turned toward the man beside his throne once again, quickly piecing together the information he had gathered. "There are spies within the army, and the Kingdom of Razathor has announced another confrontation... I see."

The man arched an eyebrow, seemingly relieved to see his king returning to his usual composure. "Y-Yes, Your Majesty! We were discussing how to counter their army this time. As you know, our forces have been reduced to just thirty percent of their original strength."

Atlas narrowed his eyes as he considered the information. ’Am I supposed to fulfill the role of this king? Is that what the test is about?’ He exhaled, knowing that he had no way of understanding the construct’s intentions yet.

"Thirty percent... How many Elites do we have among our remaining forces?" he asked, directing his attention toward the man beside him.

The man answered immediately, providing the information without leaving out any details, though his voice grew weaker as he reached the end. "We have only nine Elites remaining, among whom only three are Sword Masters." Atlas nodded as he recalled the information regarding these Sword Masters from the memories he had received.

’This world operates on an energy called Mana, and the Sword Masters are considered the pinnacle of its strength?’ he wondered, growing increasingly confused by the standards of this world.

Compared to the beings and powers Atlas had encountered in his own world, the strongest individuals here seemed insignificant by comparison, ’They can only destroy a mountain at their best? Isn’t that far too weak?’

He struggled to understand how the people of this world had reached such a limited level of strength when, according to his knowledge, Mana was merely a hundred times poorer in both richness and strength than the energy he was accustomed to.

He also found their cultivation methods crude, although he could identify a few aspects that might prove useful even to him.

"I see, the confrontation is tomorrow, and there’s a high probability that we’ll be killed. In response, you people suggested that we run away, is that right?" Atlas asked, looking across the room at the people gathered before him. All the men and women present nodded in response, confirming his understanding of their discussion.

Atlas studied their faces with a puzzled expression before continuing, "But where exactly are we supposed to run? Only three continents rule this world, and the Deris Continent would never allow us to enter because of its enmity toward our empire."

The reactions of those present made their concerns obvious as they lowered their heads, unable to provide a convincing answer. ’Are they planning to enter through some hidden route? Even that wouldn’t work. What exactly are they thinking?’

Atlas wondered, observing their silence while considering the situation. Before anyone could voice another thought, he rose from the throne and addressed them firmly.

"We will confront them instead of running away like some dog with its tail between its legs." His declaration immediately caused everyone in the hall to widen their eyes, and several of them hurriedly voiced their objections.

"B-But Your Majesty, we will be killed mercilessly if we do that!" one of them exclaimed, while another quickly added, "Yes! We shouldn’t engage them in battle! They have thirty Sword Masters, whereas we have only three!"

Before anyone could continue arguing, Atlas raised his hand, bringing their protests to an abrupt halt.

He looked directly into the eyes of each person present, his expression calm and unwavering as he finally declared, "I will be the one to confront them myself."