The Demon King is unfathomable

Chapter 620 Children of the Holy Light Turn Against Each Other

The aftershocks of the divine punishment that descended upon St. Clement's Cathedral still reverberate through the snow and ice of the northern wilderness.

Although the devastating attack was barely blocked by the barrier of the Tower of Origin Law, it completely shattered the dignity of both sides.

Only when faced with unforgivable evil will Saint Sis send his angels to punish the profane.

That was both a strategic strike by the Os Empire against Chaos and Hell, and a severe punishment of excommunication for traitors!

At this point, there was no room for maneuver between the Os Empire and the Academy.

Because the incident happened so suddenly, the mages inside the mage tower were completely unprepared, and the panic inside the tower reached its peak.

To appease the mages, the great sage Dolrich stood before the communication crystal and allowed the tendrils of his soul to connect to the communication magic circle beneath his feet.

As the magic circle was activated, the thirteen mage towers seemed to be pulled closer to him, and the crystal mirror reflected faces that were either hesitant or anxious.

Looking into those pairs of eyes waiting for an answer, Dolph's face showed a compassionate smile, and his aged voice was full of determination and sincerity.

"Fellow magicians, pioneers of the new world, and my dear students... I solemnly declare to you at this moment that the age of cowardice has ended."

"From this day forward, we will no longer be subservient to any secular regime. Under the witness of tens of thousands of worlds and hundreds of millions of stars, we will use the knowledge we have learned from the virtual realm to save our own world, and we will establish a kingdom that belongs to the magicians!"

Its name is—

"The Holy Magic Kingdom!"

Dolph paused briefly, gathering his emotions for a moment, before throwing out the bait he had prepared long ago.

"The Holy Magic Kingdom will have magicians at its absolute core. We will no longer bow to any illusory gods, but will only pledge allegiance to the wands in our hands."

"We will use it to shatter the shackles that worldly kings have placed on our feet, and use its remains to forge the crowns upon our heads. In that new era, every magician will possess the power to transcend the bonds of flesh and blood and ascend to the status of demigod!"

"We will control our own destiny! No one can stop us from exploring the boundaries of truth with those high-sounding excuses anymore!"

Along with this inspiring declaration of independence, copies of the Wise Man's Gazette were printed overnight and sent like snowflakes to every floor of the mage towers.

The newspaper's front page featured a visually striking magic photo.

In the photograph, the great sage Dolluk stands silently before a verdant coffin, his expression filled with grief, as if he had aged ten years overnight.

The manifesto printed below the magic photo, however, contained no trace of grief; it was solely a critique of the coffin before the great sage.

The article, written with extreme grief and indignation, portrays the revered sage Philian Twilight as a shameless traitor who grovels before the empire and will stop at nothing to betray the interests of the Mage Tower.

In an attempt to appease the secular monarchy, he went so far as to declare his disloyalty to the esteemed sages at the Council of Wise Men!

Faced with the betrayal of his former mentor, the great sage struggled between righteousness and personal feelings. In the end, for the sake of the future of everyone in the mage tower, he had no choice but to execute his mentor with tears in his eyes.

In this way, a cold-blooded tyrant was successfully packaged as a "magic emperor" who bore heavy sins and only wanted to lead people to the light.

As for the truth, at this critical juncture where even survival has become a luxury, it's clear that no one dares to delve into it anymore.

No one wants to be the second sage to give his life.

However, hoping to escape unscathed by covering one's eyes is clearly too naive.

As students of the traitor Philian, the teachers and students of the School of Life soon received unexpected "preferential treatment".

They were granted the supreme honor of offering their souls to the Tower of Source Law, becoming the first group of mages to go to the front lines to fight against the Imperial regular army.

The Great Sage reiterated that Philian Sage's betrayal was a personal act, and that he had no objection to Philian's school of life philosophy.

The magicians of the Life School volunteered to go to the front lines to prove their loyalty; no one forced them to do so.

On the other hand, the notices posted in the academic affairs offices of each mage tower once again proved the great sage's benevolence.

The announcement stated that the Great Sage deeply sympathized with the mages of the various mage towers, who came from all over the continent of Os, and whose relatives and friends were all within the empire and various kingdoms.

The benevolent Lord Doryuk could not bear to see his students and teachers turn against their former comrades. Any student who did not wish to dedicate themselves to the noble cause of magic could immediately withdraw from the school.

As long as your meal card is not overdue, you can leave the school immediately, and Xuebang will not stop you.

It must be said that Dolrich is also a person with a great sense of humor, in no way inferior to his "student" Theodore, whom he has never met.

The teachers and students under his command are all talents he personally selected, so how could there be any fools who could really slip through the "fishing net"?

The Northern Wastes are now sealed off by the Empire, and the White Griffin Guard is stationed in the Duchy of Blackwood in the Kingdom of Rhodes.

With war already raging, stepping out of the gates of the mage tower, protected by a barrier, is tantamount to suicide.

Not to mention, after learning about the research of the Soul School, they could hardly believe that their respected sage would spare such excellent "talents".

The withdrawal registration office was deserted, not a soul in sight. And that deathly silence, like a nightmare, enveloped the usually bustling mage tower.

It's hard to imagine that such a thing could happen so soon after the All Souls' Day trials.

It was as if people were still immersed in the festive atmosphere one second, and the next second they were sacrificing everything for a war they were completely unprepared for.

The rooftop garden of the Tower of Source Law is filled with a slightly eerie fragrance.

Ever since it devoured Philian's remains, the garden seems to have become even more vibrant with life.

Porphyry Sayy dared not think too much, and with his head down, he approached the Great Sage and tremblingly handed over the report in his hand.

"Great Sage... This is the list submitted by each academy."

This sage of the legal school carefully controlled the rhythm of his breathing, not daring to even breathe out a single breath, letting the beads of sweat slowly slide down the edge of his gold-rimmed glasses.

Dolph turned around, his eyes flickering. Guided by the source energy, the paper floated to his face, unfurling like a blooming flower.

The data on the list is impressive.

Neither the Tower of Life, about to head to the front lines, nor the Tower of Source Law, closest to the center of power, produced a single coward who gave up halfway.

Looking at the report floating in front of him, Dolphin's lips curled into a satisfied smile, and he placed it on the garden stone table beside him with his eyes.

"It seems we have quite a few smart people."

……

On the edge of the frigid north, amidst a vast expanse of white snow, stands a mage camp under construction.

Approximately three hundred mages from the School of Life arrived here first via the teleportation array.

They wore emerald green robes, their eyes were numb, and they used their wands to control the puppets, carving spells on the ground with magic crystal powder.

It's clear that the warp has placed a significant burden on these spellcasters; everyone is performing their missions while under negative conditions.

However, despite the numerous difficulties, no one dared to complain. They could only bury their heads and silently endure the endless wind and snow.

Just then, a deafening roar that shattered the clouds suddenly descended upon everyone.

All the magicians looked up at the sky and saw countless black dots, like shooting stars falling from the sky, fiercely tearing apart the snow falling all around!
"Enemy attack—!" a teaching assistant shouted in panic, raising his wand and firing a fireball to illuminate the area.

The fireball traveled hundreds of meters and struck the breastplate of a griffin rider, but it didn't even leave a dent before turning into countless sparks that scattered into the snow!

"For the Holy Light! For the Empire—!"

"Eliminate these traitors!"

With a roar, Basil Joel, the centurion of the Imperial White Griffin Guard, raised his knight's longsword and charged ahead, single-handedly taking on a thousand men!
The knight's longsword in his hand gleamed with a blue light, and with a single strike, he unleashed a sword aura several meters long, slicing the magician who had raised his wand into a bloody pulp!

He doesn't kill nameless people—

However, this does not apply to situations where an attack is launched against him first.

The deafening roar was like a sudden blizzard!
Thousands of fully armed griffon riders swooped down, the violent air currents directly shattering the magical barrier surrounding the camp, and charged right up to this rabble.

Those stationed here are all bronze or even steel-level mages; the only silver-level expert has been killed with a single sword strike.

Basil Joel had expected the young magicians to soon collapse or even surrender, but what happened next took him by surprise.

Those pale faces showed no fear, only a near-numb madness.

Accompanied by the awkward chanting of incantations, the frozen ground in front of the camp was violently blasted open, and tree trunks as thick as giant pythons burst out of the ground, catching everyone off guard.

"scare--!"

The griffin beneath him let out a screech and crushed a puppet made of twisted vines with a single claw.

As he watched the tree trunks continuously emerging from the snow, Basil's pupils contracted sharply. He took out a round-bottomed flask from his pocket and smashed it against the hilt of his sword.

"It's a tree spirit puppet! Use kerosene!"

The moment he finished speaking, crimson demonic light had already coated his sword blade. As he wielded the sword, rings of crimson light swirled around him.

Meanwhile, the resistance from the Xuebang magicians did not cease.

They waved their wands, and emerald light flashed continuously, driving three-meter-tall tree spirits to pounce on the landing griffin riders.

The waving, thick branches resembled towering city walls, which, while not enough to lift these experienced knights off the griffins' backs, still caused them considerable trouble.

With his face growing increasingly grim, Centurion Basil finally showed no mercy, slaying more than a dozen magic apprentices who were pointing their wands at him with a single sword stroke.

The same applies to the other griffin riders.

Feeling threatened, they held back. The griffin's claws easily pierced the trunk of the tree demon puppet, and the subsequent swords effortlessly severed its head.

Blood instantly stained the snow red.

However, Basil's mood grew increasingly heavy.

Especially when he saw a young apprentice who had been driven to the brink of despair, who, even with one arm severed, showed no intention of giving up the fight.

This was quite different from the mages he had disarmed in the northern part of the Kingdom of Ryan.

The young men happily went home after dropping their wands, but they were filled with a determination to fight to the death.

Even if the griffin's claws pierce their chests, they will still detonate the magic within them before their last breath—

That was a fight where you risked your life!
"Put down your wands! Hands over your heads! This is your last chance!" Basil roared, his voice booming as he looked at the unwavering position.

"You bunch of idiots! The higher-ups at Xuebang have already abandoned you! Surrender now if you want to live!"

no respond.

Even the mage whose arm he had cut off just stared at him, retreating while healing his wound with magic.

Basil's eyebrows furrowed. But just then, he caught a glimpse of something unusual out of the corner of his eye.

Beneath the mage's tattered hood, on his neck which had long been hidden from the light, was a ring of dark blue runes!
The inscription, like a tattoo, resembled both a crown and a chain, gripping the young man's throat tightly.

As his lips chanted the incantation, the chains trembled, infusing his spell with a pale blue magical light…

What is this?

Basil keenly sensed that something was wrong.

He suddenly raised his head and scanned the battlefield of fallen mages from various schools of thought.

really--

Everyone had the same black curse mark around their neck!

An imperial mage who had accompanied the army landed beside Basil on a giant eagle.

His gaze also fell on the seriously injured magic apprentice, and his face quickly darkened.

"It's a summoning seal from the Summoning School! This thing is usually used to provide double protection for violent summons... I never expected them to put it around a person's neck."

Let alone humans, even animals with human-like intelligence rarely use this thing. For simply restraining the behavior of summoned creatures, ordinary contract magic is sufficient.

"Just tell me directly, what's the use of this thing!" Basil shouted, his voice carrying through the wind and snow.

The imperial mage continued speaking with a grim expression.

"As you can see, the curse will work on their souls the moment they even entertain the thought of retreating. If you kill them, they'll just lose their heads; if that thing kills them, they won't even have their souls left!"

"Damn it!" Basil's face turned ashen, and he cursed a blasphemous curse.

These lunatics—

They even treat their own students like this!

Just as he was about to order these young men, whose souls were bound, to be freed, a deafening roar suddenly rolled in from the distant horizon.

Basil jerked his head up, looking in the direction the sound came from. There, a massive stone slab was slowly emerging from the clouds. It was a "flying boat" made of countless enormous runic stone slabs!
This colossal object floating in the sky resembled a giant ship sailing deep into the clouds, its sides densely packed with magical artifacts. And on the ship's deck, countless combat puppets were stationed!
It is said that this is a magical artifact from another world, developed by the magicians of Xuebang based on inspiration gained from the virtual realm.

Before the Academy and the Empire broke off relations, this magical artifact seemed to be just a magical artifact, and those hideous weapons had not yet been installed.

Basil narrowed his eyes slightly, staring intently at the approaching airship, and made a decision in just a few seconds.

Although his griffin knights were elite, they lacked the cover of heavy firepower.

Especially since there were mages of unknown rank standing on that airship, a rash attack on this floating fortress would be tantamount to throwing an egg against a rock.

The empire's sharpest blade must not be lost in this pointless war of attrition!
"All troops, listen to my command—"

"retreat!"

With his longsword raised high, Basil the Triumph roared and urged his raptor to flap its wings and leap into the sky.

The other griffin riders responded in kind, immediately abandoning the lingering enemies and taking to the air on their mounts.

Green vine arrows chased after them, but they were quickly outpaced.

The griffin riders regrouped into neat formations below the clouds and retreated in an orderly fashion towards the northern border of the Kingdom of Rhodes.

Basil took one last look at the blood-stained camp below, his face clouded with gloom, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword creaking.

He swore an oath to Saint Sis—

The Joel family's "Sword of the Earth" will never forgive these blasphemous creatures!
……

The bloodstains on the snowy plains of the North had not yet dried, and the people of Roland were filled with dread.

Although the dazzling magical light of the Academy Magicians was absent from the Golden Plains, the pungent smell of gunpowder in the air was just as strong.

In the early morning, the thin mist had not yet dissipated.

The Kingdom of Rhodes' 40,000-strong army once again sounded the horn of attack, pointing its cold cannons at the 7th Militia Regiment of the Republic of Ryan stationed in Langwei City.

In the mouths of bards, this city on the banks of the rushing river was called "the Iron Gate of Champagne".

As its name suggests, this place is both the northern gateway to the Golden Plain and the political and economic center of the National Assembly in the north.

Only by taking this place can we truly reclaim the Goron Barondom.

In order to deliver a satisfactory battle report to the Duke of the North and King Rhodes, Count Thijan Clement made thorough preparations for this battle.

He positioned the three artillery units accompanying the army on the high ground outside the city and opened fire on Longway from three directions.

The deafening roar shattered the tranquility of the early morning.

Allied solid shells rained down on the city, mercilessly smashing the ancient stone walls and stained glass windows.

Although the overwhelming artillery fire did not kill many militiamen hiding in the trenches, it destroyed hundreds of civilian houses.

The citizens of Longway had never seen anything like it.

Having never experienced the baptism of war, they were terrified as if they had witnessed the end of the world, completely terrified by the roar of the cannons.

It's not their fault.

After all, not everyone is as resilient as the citizens of Roland. Although they received some of Baron Goron's property, they were not prepared to stand with the National Assembly through thick and thin.

Just before the Rhodes' bayonets breached the Republic militia's defenses, these terrified citizens rushed into the 7th Militia Regiment's camp.

They brought their families and cried out for surrender outside Commander Wilt's tent, begging to save their meager lives and possessions.

Faced with the overwhelming crowd, Commander Wilt was at a loss for what to do.

His small army was no match for the Rhodes. And he didn't possess the magic of the School of the Rhodes to forcibly stuff a group of defenseless people into his trenches.

Under immense internal and external pressure, after repelling several waves of Rhodesian attacks, he ultimately raised the white flag in disgrace and handed over his saber to Count Thijan Clement, commander of the 40,000-strong Rhodes Kingdom.

Like other gentlemen on the continent of Os, the count gladly accepted the surrender of the officer Ryan.

The two sides completed this respectable yet humiliating handover on the battlefield.

Of course, there were also tough guys among the Ryan who did not surrender, such as Repair, the city garrison commander who was also loyal to the National Assembly.

This young man, born into humble circumstances, refused to be a coward. He led twenty fully armed guards to occupy the city council hall, vowing to live and die with the newly established republic.

Then--

He got what he wanted; he was shot in the back of the head.

It is unknown who opened fire, but the opportunistic mayor immediately stepped forward and brought the news of Repair's suicide to Count Thiján, who was outside the city accepting the surrender.

At this point, Baron Goron was completely back in the hands of the royalists.

The 40,000-strong army of the Kingdom of Rhodes easily broke down the "iron gate of champagne" with almost no effort. The battle was so easy that even Count Thiján himself had not expected it.

When the army entered the city, the royalists in the city lined the streets to welcome them.

Young women from many prominent families, dressed in pristine white dresses, enthusiastically offered almond candy, a local specialty, to the marching Rhodes soldiers, celebrating their liberation.

Seeing the grand welcome from the citizens lining the streets, Count Thiján couldn't help but feel a little smug.

He rode along the streets of the River Runner, accompanied by Baron Goron, who was also on horseback, and couldn't help but express his feelings of victory.

"As I predicted, the Ryans are utterly vulnerable."

As soon as he finished speaking, he seemed to realize that there was a nobleman named Ryan beside him, so he considerately added a sentence.

"Ah, of course, I was referring to those troublemakers, not to a distinguished gentleman like yourself."

Actually, it would have been better if he hadn't said that.

Baron Goron, who had been smiling along with him, suddenly stiffened his smile, a hint of displeasure flashing in his eyes.

However, considering that the count had helped him reclaim his territory, he forcibly suppressed his dissatisfaction.

“You’re right… The National Assembly is indeed a bunch of cowards. Without the help of those blasphemous spirits, they can’t do anything.”

"Speaking of which, I've always been curious, where did all those undead go?"

"Who knows, maybe they're hiding."

As soon as the people of the Empire appeared, they hid like gophers.

This includes the group of New Testament believers.

With nowhere to vent his anger, Baron Goron's gloomy gaze began to wander around the streets.

Suddenly, his gaze fell upon a church in the city.

The National Assembly sealed off the church, removed the old oak doors, and brutally converted it into an ammunition depot.

This blasphemous and barbaric act immediately reminded him of the manor and property that had been robbed of him by those peasants.

New and old grudges surged into my heart in an instant.

Faced with such a blasphemous act, Baron Goron immediately seized the opportunity and ordered his servants to summon the opportunistic mayor.

He roared, demanding that the city government immediately set up a provisional court to try all the robbers in the city who supported the National Assembly.

Count Thijand frowned, feeling that such a ruthless approach was somewhat inappropriate, especially since it did not conform to the elegance of a knightly duel.

“Your Excellency, Sir Wilt has surrendered. According to ancient law, we should treat them kindly, not hold them accountable.”

"I'm not settling scores from the war, but from before! Your Excellency, I can listen to you on other matters, but this is my hatred for them! And look at that church, are you suggesting that it doesn't matter even if they desecrate our holy light like this?" Baron Goron's eyes were bloodshot, and he wished he could hang all the timid mayors and councilors from the trees.

Seeing how deeply this fellow was obsessed, Count Tirang sighed.

"Okay, let's each compromise."

With that, Thijang pulled Goron aside and shared his thoughts with the angry baron.

As a member of the Holy Light Noble, he acknowledged Baron Goron's upholding of sacred dignity and his trial of the National Assembly's supporters, but he insisted that this fire must not be extended to Commander Wilt and other surrendered prisoners.

He needed to keep these respectable prisoners of war to demonstrate his benevolence.

In exchange, Count Thiján had his scribe draft a public declaration as a warning to the citizens of Roland.

“I warn the citizens of Roland City not to harm any of the nobles of Ryan. As long as you abide by the rules of war, we will abide by them in the same way, and will never harm any civilians in the city, nor will we plunder any cities we conquer.”

"What we need to hold accountable are the criminals who brutally murdered King Theodore, and the councilors who condoned these crimes; it has nothing to do with the rest."

"Of course, if the citizens of Roland City dare to continue persecuting the Holy Light Nobles, when I lead my army to raze Roland City to the ground, the entire city will be reduced to ashes."

After Count Tiran finished reading, he waited for the scribe to finish writing, then looked at Baron Goron standing beside him and said with a smile.

"So, are you satisfied with my declaration?"

"Praise be to the Holy Light, praise be to the Clyffet family! You are a truly noble person, and it is my honor to walk alongside you!"

Baron Goron gave a thumbs-up, sparing no words of praise.

He then eagerly took the Earl's guarantee and went to settle accounts with his compatriots who supported the National Assembly.

The temporary court was remarkably efficient.

The citizens of Longway surrendered in the morning, and in just half an afternoon, they arrested nearly 300 suspects.

A large portion of them were people who had previously robbed Baron Goron's property during the chaos, and many of them were city councilors who followed the National Assembly.

To demonstrate his impartiality and his difference from these bandits, Baron Goron went through the motions of a trial before taking them to the banks of the River Run.

With a series of crisp gunshots, the cries of agony and pleas for mercy came to an abrupt halt.

The baron coldly watched the mangled corpses roll down the riverbank, letting the crimson blood stain the river, feeling only a sense of pleasure.

These poor fellows, in order to save their lives, forced the army to open the city gates, only to end up losing not only their money but also their lives in the icy river.

Unlike Goron, who sought revenge, Count Thijan Clement did not personally go to the riverbank to witness the ugly massacre.

He sat in the city hall's official residence, and in the manner of a victor, offered a glass of champagne to the commander of the regiment, Wilt, who had just handed over his sword, as a farewell gift.

"I must say, you fought a good battle. If it weren't for a bunch of cowards holding us back, I'm afraid it would have taken me another two days to take down the outer walls."

Commander Wilt gave a wry smile.

"You flatter me, Your Excellency. With your strength, no matter how much I resist, I can only struggle until dawn tomorrow."

Anyway, you won, so you can say whatever you want.

This "honest compliment" greatly pleased the Count. He laughed heartily, his earlier displeasure at the Imperial Guard's interference completely gone.

As a return gift to Commander Wilt, after the banquet, he selected a swift horse from his own stable and generously presented it to the defeated general.

As their parting drew near, he solemnly handed a letter to Commander Wilt and patted the latter on the shoulder with an air of grandeur.

"Take my letter to your Marshal Fayette, and tell him that his nemesis is advancing toward Roland. I look forward to drinking with him, but I also ask him to seriously consider my suggestion... if he still considers himself a nobleman."

Tijang paused for a moment, then continued.

"This is about whether I treat him with aristocratic etiquette."

Commander Wilt solemnly accepted the letter.

"I will deliver the letter, but may I ask what is inside?"

“It’s nothing, just a declaration.” Tirjan’s lips curled up slightly. “I look forward to a fair fight with him to end this foolish war as soon as possible. The people of the Holy Light should die in the war against demons, not for that boring charter… Anyway, I don’t see how you need that thing.”

The Clafett family's military genius broke the Ryans' champagne in just one day, so winning this war seems to be only a matter of time.

After all, Saint Sith stood by him!
Commander Wilt said nothing, only nodded heavily, tucking both shame and pride into his heart, and then mounted his horse.

"I will take the letter back to Roland, but I cannot guarantee that Marshal Fayette will accept it."

"It doesn't matter, he's the one who was rude."

Tijan shrugged and said magnanimously.

"If he doesn't accept it, you can just publish it in any newspaper."

(End of this chapter)