"What... what are those? Are they also beasts?"
Confusion, amazement, fear, and hope all mingled together in the hearts of the patrol unit, including the God Machine users. The spectacle unfolding before them was beyond their comprehension, something they could not begin to explain.
"They can't be. Beasts don't fight among themselves," someone finally muttered.
"Then what are these powerful creatures?"
"There's no point in guessing. If we want to know, why not just ask Fenrir directly?"
"Of course! But... who's going to ask?" Somar, the squad leader, finally spoke up, fixing his gaze on the God Machine user who had made the suggestion. "How about you?"
"Come on, Captain, don't joke like that!" The God Machine user gave an awkward laugh. "My puny little self wouldn't even be enough for those monsters to snack on. You're the strongest among us, Captain. You should go!"
All eyes turned toward Muria, who now stood at the center of the devastation, surrounded by over a hundred dragons. Even the smallest of the dragons appeared capable of wiping out the entire patrol unit with a single swipe of its claw.
"My lifelong goal is to die fighting beasts," Somar muttered grimly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Though marked by the world's desperate hope, even he couldn't deny the overwhelming power displayed by these dragons.
He had seen it with his own eyes: the first dragon, a massive red beast, had cleared the entire area of beasts within minutes simply by flying overhead and unleashing its fiery wrath. The destruction it wrought was beyond anything Somar had thought possible, far surpassing the might of any known God Machine user.
Faced with this overwhelming power, the patrol unit dared not approach Muria, but Muria had no intention of letting them remain in limbo. He needed these humans—they still had their uses.
"Enough," Muria said, his voice cutting through the chaos as he turned his attention to the dragons surrounding him.
Though a powerful force on their own, dragons were notoriously difficult to organize due to their immense individual strength and pride. Expecting them to follow orders like a disciplined army was nearly impossible.
However, under Muria's command, even these dragons—many of them corrupted in nature—showed a semblance of discipline. At the sound of his voice, the dragons ceased their bickering and lowered their heads, focusing their attention on him.
Striding through the still-burning ruins, Muria approached the patrol unit. Their vehicles and personnel, now huddled together in wary anticipation, watched his approach with a mix of fear and awe.
"Fenrir, can you explain what's going on here?" Somar finally asked, stepping forward. His voice was steady, though tension was evident in his clenched fists.
"What you see are my retainers," Muria replied simply.
"Retainers? What does that mean?" a female God Machine user asked cautiously.
"Servants, subordinates, allies... Retainers are beings who serve and follow their master. But unlike normal servants, they will never betray me," Muria explained calmly.
"Does that mean you can command these powerful creatures to do anything you want?"
"More or less," Muria admitted with a small smile. "Though if I were to send them to fight an unbeatable foe, they might refuse."
The group exchanged uneasy glances before Somar asked the question weighing on everyone's minds. "If these beings follow you, Fenrir... who—no, what exactly are you?"
"You cannot comprehend what I am," Muria replied, his tone carrying an air of finality. Then, with a slight smile, he added, "But you may call me a Savior."
"A Savior?"
His response left the group stunned. The word felt too grand, too far removed from their grim reality.
"That... I don't quite understand what you mean," Somar said cautiously, trying to make sense of Muria's declaration. Yet, deep down, a spark of hope ignited within him—a hope that perhaps their plight was not entirely hopeless.
"There's no need to overthink it," Muria said gently, his demeanor radiating a calming presence. "The meaning is literal. I have come to save your dying world."
Muria's words might have sounded delusional under normal circumstances, but the hundred dragons standing behind him lent undeniable weight to his claim. Without them, he might have been dismissed as a lunatic. But with the majestic creatures backing him, there was no room for doubt.
"Wait—no, let me correct myself," Muria suddenly added, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Saving your world is actually my secondary objective."
The group froze.
"What... then, what is your main objective?" Somar asked, his voice trembling slightly. For the first time in years, he found himself speaking in the respectful tone reserved for a superior.
"You don't need to worry," Muria said reassuringly. "I hold no ill will toward you or your world. I have come to seek out the one you refer to as the master of the beasts."
"The master... of the beasts?"
The patrol unit was taken aback. They had never considered the possibility that the creatures terrorizing their world might have a master.
"Yes," Muria said, nodding. "You may call it a Voidborn God—a being that grows stronger by devouring and destroying worlds. These beasts are merely its minions."
"A... god?" The word alone was enough to send shivers down Somar's spine. If the beasts were already this terrifying, what kind of unimaginable power must their master wield?
Seeing their fear, Muria's golden eyes softened. "Don't worry. This god is my enemy, not yours. You can simply pretend it doesn't exist."
"What... what can we do?" a young God Machine user asked hesitantly.
"Assist my retainers in purging the beasts from your world," Muria replied without hesitation.
"And... will that help you in your battle against the god?"
"No," Muria admitted with a smile. "But it will speed up the process of drawing the god's attention."
"You mean... that god isn't already here?"
"Of course not," Muria said matter-of-factly. "If it were, your world would already be on the brink of total destruction."
Hearing this, a few God Machine users exchanged nervous glances. Doubt and hesitation crept into their expressions.
"Do not harbor any delusions about that god," Muria warned, his voice suddenly sharp. "Its arrival is inevitable. Whether you fight the beasts or not, it will come when your world is sufficiently weakened."
"So... there really is no other choice?"
"No," Muria said bluntly. "I've already told you—I am your world's Savior. My battle with the Voidborn God will determine the future of this world. If I lose, your world is doomed. But if I win, your world will survive, and you'll have the chance to rebuild your civilization."
...
"Do you think Fenrir was telling the truth?" one of the God Machine users whispered as they made their way back to the base. "About being a Savior... and about the Voidborn God?"
Somar glanced up at the dragons flying overhead, their majestic forms casting long shadows over the convoy. "Look at those creatures above us. Can you think of any reason to doubt him?"
"He might be lying to us," another argued weakly.
"What would be the point of lying to us?" Somar countered. "With power like his, he could destroy us in an instant if he wanted. Compared to him, we're nothing more than dust in the wind."
"And what about the promise to modify our God Machines? Do you think that's true?"
"If everything else he said is true, then yes, I believe it," Somar said firmly. "After all, if he's truly on par with a god... what could he gain by lying to us?"
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