Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

In the quiet room, the suffocating pressure gradually dissipated like the receding tide.

The air began to flow again.

Only the faint traces of divine power still echoing in the space silently recounted that extraordinary conversation that had just taken place.

Pope Atkinson maintained his respectful posture for a good dozen breaths until he was certain that the god of prophecy had truly departed.

It slowly raised its heavy head, its bones groaning softly with each movement.

Looking at the empty room, even greater questions followed.

Madora the Prophet, the God of Prophecy... This supreme being who holds the power of destiny and overlooks the cycles of reincarnation in all realms.

He expended divine power, crossed the dimensional barrier, and voluntarily descended in his avatar, all for the purpose of inquiring about a mortal king—Cohen Corleone.
Madora made no mention of the prophetic church's development on the mainland, its spread of faith, whether he, Atkinson, was competent as its chief spokesperson... or even his well-known "underhanded tactics."

Even after being questioned, she asked herself to keep it a secret. Judging from Madora's tone, this seemed more like a... deliberate avoidance!

A kind of caution that he was unwilling, or even afraid, to let the outside world know that he had paid attention to Cohen!

The thought, like a cold, venomous snake, crept into Atkinson's mind, sending a chill down his spine.

Absolutely ridiculous!
Pope Atkinson shook his head violently, trying to dispel the thought that sent shivers down his spine.

How is that possible!
That's Madora the Prophet, the God of Prophecy, a pivotal figure in the Council of Gods.

He is the eternal observer and guardian of the river of fate; his will is the trajectory of destiny, and his gaze is the direction of the future.

How could such a supreme being, who reigns above billions of living beings, show such a cautious attitude of fear towards a mortal king who has just stepped into the Gold rank and is as insignificant as an ant in the eyes of the gods?

This was nothing short of the most blasphemous desecration of divine authority, a devastating blow to the very foundation of Atkinson's understanding.

However absurd or unbelievable it may be.

His Majesty Madora's final stance, that resolute "That's the end," was like a cold brand, deeply engraved in the depths of his soul, leaving no room for doubt.

"call……"

Atkinson exhaled a long breath, as if trying to expel all the fear, confusion, and absurdity that had been building up in his chest.

He forced himself to calm down, and soon he realized something.

His Majesty Madora did not object to Cohen becoming the "Child of Prophecy," and even said that the relationship between him and Cohen and its future development would be handled according to his own wishes.

This is clearly a sign of approval, tacit consent, and tacit recognition!
An indescribable surge of ecstasy rushed into Atkinson's heart, instantly dispelling all his thoughts, and his eyes suddenly lit up.

Madora's acceptance of Cohen's identity as the "Child of Prophecy" means that she approves of their deal, which also means that Madora will not object to her future trip to the continent of Zhom to find the fragments of divinity!

Pope Atkinson's voice rose with excitement:
"From this day forward, Cohen Corleone is the undisputed Son of Prophecy, personally appointed by the great and supreme Prophet Madora!"

……

The Prophet's Plane.

This is an eternal realm composed of solidified starlight and flowing information of laws.

Countless fine silver threads, like living things, shuttled and intertwined in the void, weaving a magnificent matrix that reflected the fate of all realms.

Madora's imposing figure stood silently in the core area of ​​this magnificent matrix, his eyes slowly opening, yet his face was still shrouded in an unprecedentedly solemn shadow.

“A precise prophecy… a prediction made without any cost… Vasak, who fell alongside the God of Shadows… the price already paid…”

Madora's thoughts were racing with various pieces of information, as if she were chewing on the deepest mystery of the multiverse.

Even though reason and deduction both subtly point to this answer, this conjecture is too bold and too crazy.

Given Madora's consistently pragmatic and truth-seeking approach, some further evidence is needed to corroborate this.

Madora was worried that in the process of gathering evidence, she might trigger a backup plan left behind by that person.

Since that person has chosen this path, it's impossible that they didn't have a backup plan.

His actions on the Demon Tide Continent clearly demonstrate this:
Precise timing, perfect power positioning, unparalleled prophetic abilities, and immunity to all costs—

Every step reveals meticulous design and rigorous calculation that far surpasses that of ordinary people and spans countless eras.

Like a chess player who, before placing the first piece on the board, has already deduced the final outcome billions of moves ahead.

The entire Demon Tide Continent... and even the rise of Effie, are very likely the steps he paved for his own return to the world.

Why did they rely on "Pale Wings" right from their debut?
Madora's consciousness rapidly sank into the vast river of memories within her, as boundless as a cosmic nebula. In an instant, an ancient fragment, dormant for countless epochs, was illuminated:

That person once worked for a period of time with Cavendish Libra, the "God of Contracts and Fairness" who was in charge of contracts and fairness under his command.

Moreover, the Darkwing family in "Pale Wings" was actually founded by a Shadow Guard commander under the Shadow God.

It's no coincidence that Cohen landed this connection right from the start.

Just as Madora's consciousness was sifting through billions of dusty memories to piece together the outline of the Shadow God's vast chess game, in order to substantiate that astonishing conjecture.

A divine light, capable of tearing apart dimensional barriers and carrying boundless purification and absolute power, violently crashed into the eternal tranquility and order of the Prophet's Dimension.

A raging torrent of light swept out instantly, causing the entire stable structure of the Prophet's Plane to violently tremble at that moment.

Madora's mind was abruptly jolted back to reality from the depths of her memory, and she looked toward the place where the light appeared.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Madora felt a sudden tremor in her heart. Had she also noticed something amiss?
Yes, in ancient times, the relationship between these two was the closest!
Madora suppressed the turmoil in her heart, looked towards the area where space itself was slightly distorted by the scorching power of the God of Light, and spoke gently:
"The light of dawn, the eternal radiance... Aetheril, what brings you here in person?"

Madora's words contained no accusation, only a faint, concerned inquiry from an elder of the divine realm to a junior.

Before Madora's words had faded, another wave of icy cold swept in.

The spatial crystal walls of the Prophet Plane, which had just been scorched by the light, groaned once again under unbearable pressure.

Countless tiny ice crystals condensed out of thin air, and the figure of the Ice Goddess Daphne, like a projection of a ten-thousand-year-old glacier, descended not far from Aetheril.

Madora's deep silver eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze shifted between two goddesses with vastly different styles, both renowned in the divine realm.

Divine thoughts flashed like lightning:

Aetherel and Daphne arrived one after the other.

Aetherial's obsession with the God of Shadows, Daphne's vast and interconnected plans...

Did they each catch some clue about Cohen?
Aetherel ignored Daphne, who was chasing after her, her eyes, burning with holy flames, were fixed on Madora, who sat at the core of the torrent of fate's information, with an almost suffocating urgency:

“Your Majesty the Prophet, I need your supreme authority, which grants you insight into the fate of all realms, to deduce the destiny of a mortal being for me.”

Madora's gentle expression was like the unchanging moonlight:
"Who has made the Dawn Light so eager?"

Please speak.

Aetherel answered slowly:

"King Cohen Corleone of the human continent, Efein."

Madora's gaze suddenly turned serious. Although she tried her best to keep her expression unchanged, her eye twitched involuntarily.

He coughed lightly, seemingly trying to conceal his intense emotional turmoil.

However, whether it was Aetherel, whose heart was in turmoil and whose senses were on edge because of the sight of the Shadow God, or Daphne, whose mind was full of how to silence the prophet and cover up her own plans, both were on edge.

Neither of them noticed Madora's brief loss of composure.

The turmoil in Madora's heart was instantly suppressed, and his silver eyes regained their unfathomable calm:
"It is truly wondrous how fates intertwine."

Ms. Chenxi's request is quite a coincidence!
"Just before you arrived, I had already deduced the entire past life, present life, and karmic entanglements of that mortal king."

Madora's voice carried a profound and mysterious quality, as if fate itself were lamenting something distant.

The gaze directed at Aetherel seemed to contain countless unspeakable secrets, or perhaps a heavy pity.

Upon hearing this, both goddesses were startled and moved, and then each displayed a different expression.

Aetherel's stunningly beautiful face visibly lost all color.

A deathly pallor, pale enough to dim the stars, spread across her face.

Those golden eyes that had once burned with an unwavering flame gradually lost focus, and immense sorrow and bottomless despair, like invisible chains, instantly bound her, leaving her teetering on the brink of collapse.

Since Madora has already deduced the other party's fate but hasn't made any statement, it means that the other party is most likely unrelated to the God of Shadows.

Otherwise, Madora wouldn't be so calm if a reincarnated god-level being were found.

This filled the hopeful Aetherel with deep despair.

Daphne's reaction was completely different; a sharp look of shock and panic flashed across her cold and beautiful face.

She didn't care at all what Madora's deductions about Cohen's "past life" were.

All she cared about was whether Madora's eyes, which could see through everything, had glanced at Adaline, the girl beside Cohen whom she had deliberately arranged to hide a shocking secret.

Did you see how Daphne coerced and manipulated the "God of Truth and Memory," Lothien Hidden, to forcibly alter the memories of all living beings on the Demon Tide Continent?

Despite already suspecting the possibility, Aetherel still asked, unwilling to give up:
"Your Majesty the Prophet, the previous incarnation of this human king..."

Madora gave Aetherel a deep look. He had been hesitating about how to find evidence to prove his theory, but now it seemed he didn't need to anymore.

He could glean a lot from Aetherel's reaction.

Aether must have sensed the connection between Cohen and the God of Shadows in some way, but was unsure, so he came to me for a deduction.

But he couldn't reveal his speculation yet! Based on his observation, Cohen probably didn't even know his true identity.

Once Aetherel learns the truth, she will absolutely go insane. She will instantly tear apart the dimensional barrier and drag Cohen out of the mortal world at all costs.

This will definitely interfere with his plans, and the glimmer of hope I saw might also disappear.

Let everything take its natural course!

Let the game of the Shadow God continue, let that glimmer of life... grow naturally!
Madora's wisdom, accumulated over tens of thousands of years, instantly weighed everything; his gaze even softened deliberately, carrying a hint of helplessness.

“Aetherel…”

Madora's voice was steady and deep, like the most reliable elder stating a simple fact, clearly and ruthlessly crushing Aetheril's last hope:

"That mortal king's previous life was nothing more than an ordinary soul among the masses, drifting in and out of the river of fate for thousands of years, nothing more."

But you, the light of dawn, possess the supreme power to illuminate all realms.

Why devote so much attention to a mortal life that is as fleeting as a grain of sand?

The world seemed to fall silent.

The last flicker of struggle on Aetherel's face gradually died out in the cold, clear words that carried the unquestionable authority of fate: "nothing special," "just one of the masses," and "nothing more."

Not him...

Even the prophet who sees all of fate... declared his identity with such certainty.

Hope has been completely extinguished.

Aetherel's stunningly beautiful face turned deathly pale, a sight that tugged at the heartstrings.

Daphne, standing behind, secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it wasn't him. If the other party really were the God of Shadow, then her plan...

Sometime later, Aetheril had already left the Prophet's plane.

Daphne snapped out of her daze, realizing that Madora now had leverage over her, which made her feel a deep, uneasy unease.

She needed to confirm Madora's "all-seeing" eyes as she deduced Cohen's mortal trajectory.

Did she also "incidentally" glance at Adele, whom Cohen had carefully hidden, beside her, and see that mundane history that had been forcibly erased and altered?

She couldn't ask directly, that would be tantamount to admitting guilt; she had to probe!

Daphne spoke slowly, her gaze calmly meeting Madora's unfathomable silver eyes, as if she were merely inquiring about a trivial detail:

"Your Majesty the Prophet... just now, when Your Majesty was recounting the past of that mortal king, did you glean any other noteworthy details?"

Madora was now at a loss for words.

Since Daphne asked this question, it means she was worried that Daphne had seen through her schemes with Cohen or Cohen, and she was testing the waters to see what Daphne would say.

Madora's initial deductions were forcibly interrupted by that terrifying force when they touched upon Cohen's core.

He knew absolutely nothing about the specific people around Cohen or about Daphne's secret plans.

If I answer incorrectly at this point, wouldn't I give myself away?

After a moment's thought, Madora replied slowly:

“Ms. Hanbing, as long as your actions do not interfere with the overall situation of the Covenant of the Gods, I can pretend I didn’t see it.”

Is the lady satisfied with what I've said?

Satisfied! Very satisfied!
Daphne secretly breathed a sigh of relief; this was the best possible outcome.

In any case, sealing his memories was only to protect Adel, which outsiders would see as protecting his successor, so there was nothing wrong with that.

Moreover, how can outsiders discern whose divine essence Adeline possesses?
Even Madora's eyes, which are said to see through fate, could never easily discern its true nature through such a complex seal and disguise.

As long as Adeline doesn't reveal herself, that's the safest trump card.

“Your Majesty the Prophet, I will heed your words of advice.”

Daphne's voice regained its usual coolness and composure, carrying just the right amount of respect.

Without lingering any longer, he vanished from the Prophet's plane in a flash.

……

With the arrival of these two goddesses, Madora was completely certain of her suspicions and felt a great weight lifted from her shoulders.

The shadows of the void creatures, like maggots clinging to bones, gnaw at the foundations of the divine realm.

Ragnarok seems to be casting its menacing shadow in the not-too-distant future.

In this gloomy despair, he suddenly realized that he was not fighting alone—the god of shadow, known for his wisdom and cunning, had sown the seeds of resistance against the end in the mortal world in such an astonishing way.

This unexpected news was like a ray of light piercing through endless darkness, bringing Madora, who was burdened by the weight of fate, a long-lost sense of relief and ease.

A sense of pride, that I am not alone, welled up in my heart.

"Although we cannot directly intervene... it is feasible to clear some obstacles and pave some roads for him."

Madora's mind raced. Although she couldn't interfere with the Shadow God's plans, she could offer him some favorable conditions.

He pondered for a moment, then with a slight thought, an invisible ripple of law containing the guidance of destiny pierced through the dimensional barrier and precisely summoned his follower.

hum-

A divine radiance, woven from pure runes of order and the phantom of golden scales, descended upon the Prophet's plane.

As the light faded, a figure appeared, dressed in a simple white robe, with a face as serene as an ancient well.

A small golden scale pendant hangs from his waist—it is Cavendish Scales, the God of Contracts and Fairness, who is in charge of contracts, maintains fairness, and oversees the operation of the covenant among the gods.

Cavendish bowed slightly, his voice as steady as a rock:

"Your Majesty the Prophet, are there any new changes to the terms of the alliance that need to be adjusted?"

He instinctively thought that the prophet's summons during this turbulent time must be for a matter of great importance concerning the covenant for the survival of the gods.

Unexpectedly, the first thing the other party asked about was his faction within "Pale Wings":

"Libra, you are in charge of contracts and patrol the realms. It must have been a long time since you set foot on the Demon Tide Continent in the mortal world?"

Madora's gaze seemed to pierce through time and space:

"How is the mortal business organization called 'Pale Wings' that you created doing lately?"

A barely perceptible hint of surprise flashed in Cavendish's golden eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, carefully trying to figure out the intentions of the supreme deity:
"Does His Majesty the Prophet mean that I need to personally descend to the mortal realm to see the current state of the 'Pale Wings'?"

Madora's lips curled into a mysterious smile, like a pebble thrown into the river of fate:
"Pale Wings is the undisputed number one business giant in the mortal world."

Its wealth, its network, and its influence will inevitably become the core hub coveted and contested by all forces in the upcoming era of 'warring nations'.

Imagine a scenario where war rages and order collapses; whoever controls the trade lifeline of the 'Pale Wings' will control the supply chain of the war machine.

Don't you want to see which side this 'golden lever'—powerful enough to shift the balance of power across the continent—will ultimately tip in your favor?

Cavendish's expression immediately became much more serious. As a defender and practitioner of reason, order, and fairness, Cavendish would naturally not take the lead in violating the covenant of the gods.

He straightened his back abruptly, his right hand instinctively pressing against the golden scales pendant at his waist, like a paladin defending his faith, his voice resolute and imbued with an unquestionable sacredness:

"Your Majesty, the 'Pale Wings' is indeed a seed I sowed in the mortal realm."

But my relationship with the Pale Wings is by no means that of master and servant.

It is a secular organization independent of divine authority, possessing its own will, direction, and choices.

It is not my personal property.

Every contract and every trade of the Pale Wings is imbued with the wisdom and sweat of mortals.

The power I draw upon comes from the contracts that are fairly concluded and voluntarily fulfilled, not from the control of the Pale Wings.

I have absolutely no intention of interfering in their internal affairs or influencing their allegiance!

Madora's gaze fell on Cavendish, a barely perceptible hint of approval flashing in her silver eyes.

This deity is one of the few among the gods who truly upholds their divine duties and regards order and fairness as their guiding principles.

He couldn't help but sigh slightly, wishing all the gods in the entire divine realm had such high awareness as Cavendish.

He suppressed his thoughts and said with a faint smile:

"You've misunderstood. I didn't ask you to interfere in anything."

After all, you founded Pale Wings, so there's bound to be some sentimentality towards it.

When war breaks out in the mortal realm, the commercial lifeline that sustains the prosperity of all worlds will be the first to be hit and suffer the most severe damage.

With trade routes severed and contracts rendered worthless, the pale wings of the tree you planted will inevitably suffer unprecedented storms.

Consequently, your contract power will also weaken!
Emotionally speaking, that was a miracle of the mortal world that you nurtured with your own hands. Can you bear to see it easily devoured by the flames of war?
Logically speaking, the survival and prosperity of the Pale Wings are directly related to the foundation of your contracted divine power!
"Given the overall situation, in the lead-up to the impending final battle that will determine the fate of all realms, shouldn't we strengthen the power reserves of our lineage of deities?" (End of Chapter)