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“Something isn’t right!”
The Apostle of Domination was shaken by the reports coming in from all directions. His butterflies were far from weak. They had spent a long time feeding on the Elvenwoods’ nutrients provided by the Apostle of Paradise before undergoing metamorphosis. Their mana capacity was proportional to the amount of time they spent in the cocoon. That meant their strength varied wildly, but they were still all copies of him—sharing one mind, one will.
Even the ones that had only just spread their wings possessed the primary body’s knowledge and experience. They were born different. They were all one being, a single consciousness inhabiting many bodies at once. This was the true nature of the Apostle of Domination.
This only made it harder for him to understand what was happening. None of these butterflies were the main body, but still, how were they being so easily defeated, and by such weak human beings, no less? The hunters weren’t even especially powerful.
“Alerting the primary unit!”
“There is something wrong with this city!”
“Everyone lying inside capsules possesses mana!”
“And none of them...”
“None of them are ordinary hunters!”
“They are... skilled combatants!”
“They don’t seem capable of fear!”
The Apostle absorbed the confusion rippling through his other selves across the land,...
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