In the pre-dawn hours still clinging to Arwintar, the capital of the Baharuth Empire, hurried footsteps broke the silence. The Imperial Secretary, Loune Vermillion, rushed towards the Emperor's study, the very heart of the Empire's decision-making, with an important letter in hand. Concern was clearly etched on his face.
The first sight that greeted him as the door opened was a familiar yet now tense scene: Baziwood Peschmel, one of the Four Imperial Knights, sat on one of the guest sofas. Beside him, leaning gracefully on his throne, was His Majesty Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, clad in an expensive monster hide robe, his gaze calm and calculating.
Jircniv, with his extraordinary wisdom and insight, always exuded a soothing aura of tranquility for those around him. It was as if no problem was beyond his ability to resolve.
"What is it, Loune?" Jircniv's voice was calm, yet Loune caught a note of caution within it. Jircniv observed his secretary's confusion, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his face.
Infected by the Emperor's calming aura, Loune took a deep breath, steadying himself. For some reason, the information he carried no longer felt as dire. "Your Majesty, Lord Paradyne's convoy has sent back a report from E-Rantel, and also a personal letter from Lord Paradyne for you." Loune presented both the scroll and the envelope with both hands.
"Oh, the old man sent back news." Jircniv accepted the scroll of information and the envelope from Loune with a hint of rare delight for the Emperor.
He didn't immediately read the scroll of information. His hand opened the personal letter first, unfolding it carefully, and began to read intently. Slowly, the faint smile on his face began to stiffen, thin, then completely vanish. His expression turned grim, his brow slightly furrowed, a clear sign that the letter's contents were far from good news.
After tucking the letter into his robe, he picked up the intelligence scroll and sank into deep thought, his eyes staring blankly into the distance.
Baziwood beside him, who had anxiously observed the Emperor's changing expression, couldn't suppress his curiosity. "Your Majesty, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft.
Jircniv gasped, as if just awaking from his reverie, and shifted his gaze to Baziwood. He shrugged helplessly, a gesture he rarely displayed. "The old man seems to have found what he has pursued his entire life in that city. He said he doesn't want to return for a while." His tone contained a mix of defeat and acceptance.
"And Leinas," Jircniv continued, a note of firmness creeping into his voice, "she asked the old man to convey that she will no longer be a member of the Four Imperial Knights. The agreement between me and her has been canceled."
Baziwood was stunned to hear that. His jaw dropped slightly. He knew that Fluder Paradyne and Leinas went to E-Rantel to investigate the mysterious man called "God," but this... this was beyond expectation. How could two such important figures not return? Moreover, Leinas's resignation was a serious matter.
Fluder Paradyne and Leinas could both be considered pillars of strength in the Empire. Especially Fluder Paradyne, whose importance to the Empire was absolutely crucial, he was the Chief Imperial Court Wizard, a peerless magic caster. No wonder His Majesty reacted this way. Losing two such individuals, especially in such a mysterious manner, was a severe blow.
Jircniv looked back at the documents and envelope in his hand. In reality, the situation was far worse than what he had just stated. Through both pieces of information, he had confirmed one thing he had wanted to know beforehand, which was, the "God" who appeared in the Re-Estize Kingdom, E-Rantel, indeed possessed extremely powerful and miraculous magical abilities—a power capable of even subjugating Fluder Paradyne, the Empire's strongest wizard.
Not only that, besides stating his resignation, Fluder Paradyne's letter also contained another request, a request that deepened the frown on Jircniv's brow.
The letter read: "Our God is so magnificent, yet He cannot have a holy city dedicated to Him, and must reside in a small border town of the kingdom. As a believer in God, I feel that I must contribute to God. Your Majesty, I implore you to help me build a holy city dedicated to my God at the border of the Re-Estize Kingdom, the Baharuth Empire, and the Slane Theocracy, on the Katze Plains."
"Is this what Fluder Paradyne desires, or is this a request from that great God?" Jircniv sank into very deep thought. He felt his heart pound softly.
In his personal opinion, the latter was far more likely. Fluder was a scholar hungry for knowledge, but not a shrewd politician. This request, with all its implications, surely came from the new God.
The Katze Plains was indeed an independent plain located at the intersection of three countries, as described in the letter. However, there was a reason why the Re-Estize Kingdom, the Baharuth Empire, and the Slane Theocracy had never incorporated it into their territories. The Katze Plains was a dangerous area infested with undead and monsters, and shrouded in mist day and night throughout the year.
Although the mist itself was not harmful, it carried weak reactions from the undead, which would interfere with [Detect Undead] in detection magic and render it ineffective. Those who entered would often be attacked by undead. Additionally, every year when the mist cleared, the Empire and the Kingdom would go to the Katze Plains for a decisive battle—an annual ritual to hold back the surging waves of undead overflowing from the plains. The deaths caused by the war would generate a large amount of negative energy, which would invisibly strengthen the birth and evolution of undead there, creating a vicious cycle.
If someone wished to build a holy city dedicated to a God, then choosing a place like this was clearly not a wise, let alone logical, move according to human common sense. There must be a dark, or at least hidden, purpose behind such an action.
What was it? Jircniv couldn't think of the reason for a moment, his brain working hard, searching for patterns, seeking motives.
Could it be that the great God was merciful and wished to purify the large number of undead on the Katze Plains and resolve the problems caused for humanity by this cursed land? The thought crossed his mind, but he immediately dismissed it. Too naive.
However, if that truly were the case—if the motive truly was for the good of humanity and to purify that cursed land—then Jircniv had no reason to refuse. Since the Katze Plains bordered directly with both the Empire and the Kingdom, in order to handle the undead calamity that might arise from this cursed land, both nations also jointly funded the construction of a small town in the border area north of the plains, and regularly assigned adventurers and laborers to clear out the undead. This was also a considerable expense for the Empire.
If someone was willing to take on this arduous task, it would be an excellent thing for the Empire, an unexpected blessing. This could significantly reduce their military and economic burden.
"Alright... since we're not building a city within the Empire," Jircniv began to think aloud, the corners of his lips subtly lifting, "it would be best to humor the old man and gain the God's support at the same time." This was a golden opportunity.
"Could we invite him to build a temple in the Empire as well?" a new idea emerged in his mind, his face brightening faintly. "This way, we might have a chance to bring the old man back."
After realizing these potential benefits, Jircniv's faint smile returned to his face.
On the dusty outskirts of E-Rantel, the atmosphere of artificial combat felt real. Hundreds of well-equipped human professionals fiercely fought against what seemed like an endless number of monsters. This was the Church of Destiny's training ground, where the God's followers honed their abilities.
Among them, forty warriors stood firm. They wore gleaming silvery-white armor and held spears, arranged in a neat defensive formation, like a living wall. They bravely fought against undead monsters, outnumbered several times over, pressure palpable with every step.
The commander of this team was a heroic female knight, leading with undeniable charisma and skill. Her armor was distinctly more exquisite than the others, specially designed to showcase her slender yet powerful silhouette, perfectly fitting her beautiful physique. Her long, golden hair, almost reaching her hips, was neatly tied with a silver headband at the end, ensuring nothing hindered her agile movements.
Leinas's deep blue eyes appeared intensely focused during the battle. Every attack, every block, every movement of her spear was executed with deadly precision. Combined with her porcelain-doll beautiful face, her appearance on the battlefield was truly captivating. She was the epitome of a graceful and lethal hero.
Outside the battle circle, Kael continued to gaze at the female knight, a faint smile etched on his face. There was a mix of satisfaction and observation in his gaze.
It must be said that as one of the former Four Imperial Knights of the Baharuth Empire, Leinas Rockbruise possessed extensive combat experience. Even among the New World's leading fighters, her performance on this battlefield was far superior to Lakyus—an adamantite-ranked adventurer—who stood not far from her.
Of course, Leinas's ability to perform so progressively and effectively might also be related to the weapon in her hands.
Kael watched Leinas continuously swing the spear in her hands, each swing a deadly storm for the undead. Every time she hit an enemy, a special mechanism on the weapon would open and close once, then a soothing green light would envelop her entire body, refreshing her energy.
This was the spear's passive effect: Drain Life. When the spear dealt damage to an enemy, her own health would be restored in equal proportion—an incredible ability in prolonged combat.
This weapon was a powerful Artifact that Kael had taken from Shalltear Bloodfallen when he killed her previously—the [Spuit Lance]! A World Item intentionally adapted by Kael for this purpose, now in the hands of his new follower. An item that was once a thorn in Nazarick's side now became a tool to strengthen his own forces. Kael was satisfied with the results of his adaptation.
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