Chapter 269: 276

“I’m the furthest thing from petty,” the archbishop said to Cory and snorted. “Your headache must originate from the tiny size of your brain. Don’t blame your shortcomings on someone else.”

Cherri squealed as Cory dug her talons into the young centaur’s back. “Let’s see how many shortcomings you have after I zap you with lightning,” the red harpy said as her feathers puffed up.

“I get the feeling harpies don’t mix well with centaurs,” Raea said as she halted because Cory and the archbishop were staring each other down. “What started this hatred towards one another?”

“You don’t need a reason to hate something so ugly,” Cory said and pointed at the centaur with her wingtip. “Look at him: featherless, five legs, hooves. Absolutely disgusting.”

The tattooed centaur met Raea’s eyes. He gestured towards Cory, holding his palm up, and asked, “Need I say more?”

“I guess not,” Raea said and scratched her head. “Anyways, Cory, stop antagonizing the centaurs.”

“But he started it!” Cory said and pouted.

“That doesn’t matter,” Raea said and folded her arms. “Be the bigger person. I’m sure harpies are better than this.”

“Hmm.” Cory furrowed her brow and spread her wings out while puffing up her feathers. A second later, she deflated and shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “He’s too fat.”

Raea’s eye twitched. “That’s not what being a bigger person means,” she said and exhaled. “Actually, forget it. As the harbinger, I issue a new decree: no more antagonizing centaurs. Or trolls. Or goblins…. You know what? No antagonizing anyone without my permission.”

Cory’s expression turned ugly. She glared at the archbishop before turning her head away to preen herself. The centaur raised an eyebrow as he began walking again. “I wasn’t expecting her to listen to your words,” he said. “You hold a lot of sway over the harpies?”

Raea patted her chest. “You can call me their leader,” she said. “I’m pretty new at it though. I think I started today?”

The archbishop fell silent. For a while, the only sounds were the clopping of hooves, and the splashing of liquid as the party trekked down the passage. The old centaur broke the silence. “Didn’t the harpies start their kidnapping spree today?” he asked Raea with a strange expression on his face.

Raea coughed and avoided the centaur’s gaze. “That wasn’t me,” she said.

“Then the battle cry, ‘For the harbinger!’ has nothing to do with you?”

“Must be a coincidence,” Raea said and nodded. Her wings rustled, and she ran her fingers through them, preening herself. Her face was redder than usual. Although she wasn’t an angel of kindness anymore, lying still bothered her. She wasn’t sure how Palan did it with such a straight face. Lots of practice, maybe?

“Harbinger,” Cory said and flapped her wings after she finished preening. She saluted, raising one wing, while continuing to perch on Cherri’s back. “Second-in-command, Cory the Red Zapper, requesting permission to antagonize the ugly centaur.”

“No.”

Cory blinked. “Please?”

“No,” Raea said again and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was starting to wonder if having a personal army was worth it anymore. Her subjects needed to hurry up and educate themselves already.

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“Fine,” Cory said and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll leave the stupid, bow-legged, ground-humper alone.”

The centaur sighed and shook his head as they reached the previous fork that Cherri had stopped at. The archbishop frowned. “There used to be a sign here that said, ‘Entry forbidden,’” he said. He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a harpy took it because she thought it was shiny.” Cory rolled her eyes.

“I told you you were going the wrong way,” Cherri said and bit her lower lip, not daring to meet Palan’s eyes.

“I went the way I meant to go,” Palan said and crossed his arms over his chest.

The archbishop cleared his throat. “Honored one,” he said and headed down a different path. He rubbed his chin. “May I inquire as to why you’re looking for our tribe leader?”

“I just want to confirm Solra’s death,” Palan said. He jabbed Cherri’s rib, causing her to jump. “She said the pervert was a witness. Also, I don’t know where Pyre is; otherwise, I’d just ask him.”

“Is that all?” the archbishop asked and wet his lips with his tongue. A dry laugh escaped from his lips. “You don’t want to establish dominance or anything like that? No hostile takeover? I’m sure with your ability, no one will protest. You may not be a centaur, but at least you aren’t an angel.”

“Do you want me to?” Palan asked and raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like you’re suggesting I be your new leader.”

“Well, no,” the centaur said and laughed again while avoiding Cherri’s strange look. “It’s not like I’m unsatisfied with our current tribe leader. Not at all. Who wouldn’t love a leader who’s never around because he works as a bodyguard to an angel like a dog with no pride? There’s no reason to replace him at all. He’s perfect: a role model for excellence, stronger than everyone else, first to evolve into an archling. He’s very diligent at being away from the tribe. When he’s here, he’s a bit lustful, but who doesn’t have their flaws? No, I don’t want you to replace him. No, honored one. I’m sure the tribe loves him and would be very heartbroken if he was replaced.”

“Elder…,” Cherri said. She chewed on the inside of her mouth. “You know you’re talking about my dad, right? I have a duty to tell him what you said.”

“Go on,” the archbishop said and patted his chest. “Tell him everything I’ve said. Nothing but praise has exited from my mouth—he’d be pleased. I’m sure the leaders of the various factions that arose because he’s never around would agree with everything I said.”

Cherri pursed her lips. “You’re a religious leader,” she said and stamped her hooves. “You’re not supposed to weigh in on the secular tribal matters.”

“If the tribe wasn’t so splintered and forcing me to take sides, I wouldn’t have said anything,” the archbishop said and snorted. He cleared his throat. “I mean, who said I was?”

“What makes you think I’d be a better leader?” Palan asked. “I don’t plan on sticking around and babysitting a herd of goats.”

“You can always use a figurehead—not that I want you to overthrow our current system—but, hypothetically, if it happened, I’m sure a demonstration of your strength would act as a great deterrent,” the archbishop said. “You see, the faction heads think Mathias is only the tribe leader because he’s the first centaur to evolve. They think that after they evolve as well, they can be as strong, or stronger, than Mathias. But if someone like you, who can easily break free from our clergy’s conjoined efforts, decides to nominate someone”—he glanced at Cherri—“to act as leader. They won’t be unreconciled. Someone of your caliber wouldn’t find it very difficult at all. Like you said, we’re just a herd of goats in your eyes. A simple wave of your powerful hands is sure to shock and awe our humble selves. I’m sure many younglings will worship you as well.”

“In other words,” Palan said and smiled. “You’re flattering me in an attempt to use me.”

The archbishop coughed. “Would a bribe have been better?” he asked.

“Nah,” Palan said. “Keep flattering me. I don’t dislike it.”

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