Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

Cavendish fell silent.

He was not inflexible; the words of the supreme deity were like precise weights, progressing layer by layer, ultimately landing on the undeniable strategic fulcrum of "strengthening one's own power."

His fingers, which were tightly gripping the balance pendant, loosened slightly, and the determination in his eyes was gradually replaced by a deep sense of weighing options.

After a brief moment of thought, he spoke slowly, his voice carrying a hint of inquiry:
"I understand. What do I need to do?"

"Give them a guarantee!"

What kind of guarantee?

A glint of shrewdness flashed in Madora's eyes:
"A blueprint for a divine or demonic equipment."

"Godly and Demonic Equipment!"

Cavendish looked up abruptly, his golden pupils contracting sharply, his face filled with shock and bewilderment:
"Your Majesty the Prophet, this...how can this be allowed?!"

His voice carried a rare hint of urgency:

"God and Demon equipment is the cornerstone for mortal kingdoms to build 'elite' and above core legions."

It is a strategic force capable of altering the landscape of local battlefields.

On the eve of the start of the 'Battle of Nations', these blueprints were handed over to a commercial organization that was already incredibly wealthy...

Isn't this a blatant violation of the covenant of the gods? What if, once this precedent is set, all the gods follow suit?

Madora's smile grew increasingly enigmatic, like the truth shrouded in the mists of fate:
"Libra, what if this divine and demonic equipment was originally meant to belong to 'Pale Wings'?"

"It should belong to us by right?"

Cavendish was stunned, his golden eyes filled with confusion.

Madora slowly uttered that name, long buried in the dust of history:

"Shadow Annihilation Crossbow"

"!!!"

Cavendish was struck dumb, and he cried out in shock:

"Shadow Annihilation Crossbow?"

Isn't that... the exclusive divine and demonic weaponry that the [God of Shadows] tailor-made for his most elite 'Shadow Guards'?

Madora nodded slowly:
The Darkwing Clan in "Pale Wings" was founded by the very same God Guard Commander who had followed the God of Shadow with unwavering loyalty!

The God of Shadows once invited Ornn, the God of Forging, to forge the Shadow Annihilation Crossbow for his divine guards.

Therefore, this set of equipment should rightfully belong to the Pale Wings!

Cavendish's mind went blank for a moment:
"But I remember that after the God of Shadows fell, this set of divine and demonic equipment also disappeared."

Madora nodded slightly:
"That's right, but there's one person who definitely still has the blueprints for this divine and demonic equipment!"

Cavendish instantly understood, and his expression became even more complicated:
"You mean...Ms. Dawn?"

Madora nodded and said:

"One of the most important duties of the Shadow Guardians was to protect the Goddess of Light."

She was also responsible for the routine maintenance and updates of the equipment, so she definitely had backup blueprints.

Cavendish looked troubled:

"Your Majesty, this is considered a relic of the God of Shadows. Do you think Lady Dawn would give me her late husband's belongings?"

He could almost picture Irisel's cold, indifferent gaze, filled with endless sorrow and cold rejection.

Madora smiled calmly, a smile that contained all-knowing wisdom and an undeniable certainty:

"Go find her and tell her something for me; she'll give it to you!"

As she spoke, Madora whispered a few words to Cavendish.

Cavendish was visibly shaken upon hearing this.

His golden pupils dilated to their maximum size instantly, his face filled with disbelief, horror, and astonishment. He abruptly took half a step back, his voice trembling slightly:
"This...this...is this real?"
Are you sure you really want to say that?

Madora wore a mysterious smile:

"Go, the sooner the better."

Remember, when 'sending' the blueprints to the Pale Wings, there's no need to do anything special; just use the 'normal transaction' method.

"Yes, to prevent the Pale Wings from being unaware of its value, have them bring someone who does know its worth present."

"Someone who knows their stuff?"

Cavendish was stunned again, completely unable to follow the train of thought of the god of prophecy:

"Who should I invite? Do I need to specify?"

Madora slowly shook his head, silver light flowing around him like the river of fate:
"No need.

They'll know who to call; you just need to relay the message!

Cavendish stood there, feeling his divine thoughts about to be thrown into chaos by this series of cryptic yet potentially terrifying instructions.

He glanced at Madora, the god of prophecy, whose unfathomable silver eyes seemed to hold the secrets of the endless starry sea, and then looked down at the golden scales pendant in his hand, a symbol of absolute fairness.

Finally, he took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil of confusion and shock in his heart, and bowed deeply in respect:

"As ordered!"

Then, his figure transformed into a stream of light interwoven with contract runes and the phantom of golden scales, carrying a bellyful of mysteries and a heavy mission, and disappeared into the Prophet's plane.

……

Cavendish Libra's figure appeared at the entrance to the Plane of Light.

He was surrounded by a pale golden divine radiance representing the fairness of the contract, and runes of order circled around him like loyal guardians.

However, when he actually stepped into this divine realm that should have been bathed in eternal holy light, a bone-chilling cold that penetrated deep into his divine marrow instantly seized him.

This gave him a chance to doubt whether he had gone to the wrong place and wandered into the icy plane of Lady Frost.
Even Cavendish, who was used to seeing all the worlds, was deeply shaken at this moment.

Where is even a trace of the warmth and vitality that "light" should possess in this bright dimension before us?!

The holy light river, which once flowed like liquid gold and nourished the souls of countless supplicants, has now solidified into pale ice belts exuding a cold and deathly aura.

Frozen specks of light floated on the river's surface, like solidified teardrops.

The sky was no longer a dazzling golden dome, but covered with a thick, oppressive, leaden-gray haze.

The gloom was not dark clouds, but rather light itself that had been forcibly frozen and lost its vitality.

The air was thick with a suffocating atmosphere, a mixture of despair and sorrow.

Those who should have been singing, praying, and radiating the light of their souls in the holy light now had a deep, unfathomable sadness and emptiness on their faces.

The entire plane was utterly silent, devoid of any sound, only a chilling stillness that sent shivers down one's spine.

It was as if this place was no longer a land of light, but a forgotten tomb of gods at the end of the universe.

Cavendish instinctively tightened the white robe he wore, a symbol of the fairness of the contract, yet even the garment woven from pure laws could not completely ward off the bone-chilling cold.

As the primary executor of the covenant of the gods, he knew that the state of the plane of light directly reflected the divine core of its master.

Isel Dawn, the supreme goddess who wields light, has her state of mind deteriorated to such an extent?

Cavendish muttered to himself:

"Perhaps this news will cheer up Lady Dawn, but I hope His Majesty the Prophet isn't just talking nonsense."

Otherwise, if the Goddess of Light discovers she has been deceived, she, as the messenger, will certainly be the first to be punished.

However, duty calls and contracts bind them.

Cavendish took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his turbulent emotions, and stepped into the Plane of Light.

Even in the worst mood, Aetheril had no reason to turn Cavendish away, given that he was the main person in charge and the architect of this covenant of the gods.

However, he did not appear in person, but instead sent several seraphim to greet him on his behalf.

Soon, several figures radiating a powerful aura of light appeared before him—the most powerful seraphim under Erithel's command.

However, even these beings with medium or high divine power were now shrouded in a thin, gray veil.

The usual divine radiance on their faces was replaced by a heavy weariness and repression, and the holy flames flowing on their wings dimmed considerably.

The leading archangel, Raphael, renowned for his healing and mercy, had a deep, hoarse voice, tinged with an undeniable weariness:

"Your Majesty Libra, our Lord has issued a divine decree that... no visitors have been seen recently."

His golden eyes held a deep sense of apology and helplessness:

"Even we... have not been able to see the face of our Lord for many days."

Cavendish's heart sank, but his face remained as composed and solemn as that of the God of Contracts.

He nodded slightly, his voice clear and powerful, each word like a brand of a contract, leaving no room for doubt:
"His Holiness the Prophet asked me to deliver a few words to Lady Dawn. Hmm, these words are very important, as they involve... the God of Shadows!"

Upon hearing this name, the seraphim's expressions instantly turned solemn, their eyes filled with unprecedented gravity and awe.

It was this name that plunged the entire Plane of Light into an unprecedented state of frozen stillness, and caused their supreme god unspeakable pain.

"Please wait a moment, Your Majesty Libra!"

Raphael's voice trembled slightly, but there was no longer the slightest hesitation.

He exchanged a glance with the other seraphim and instantly reached a consensus.

One of the seraphim transformed into a streak of light and rushed at top speed into the depths of the plane—the core forbidden area of ​​the Palace of Light.

Cavendish stood quietly, feeling the chilling yet slightly frenzied ripples of law around him stirred by that name.

He silently recited in his heart:
"Your Majesty the Prophet, please don't be spouting nonsense..."

Time flowed slowly in the dead silence.

Finally, a figure, more reserved than the Seraph, yet imbued with the pure essence of light, quietly appeared before Cavendish.

That was a "shining attendant".

Apart from the gods of the Light lineage, the rest of the beings in the Plane of Light are all supplicants.

These supplicants were all devout and excellent believers in life, who were brought to the plane of light by divine messengers after death to be reborn and attain eternity in the plane of light.

Those who serve the Goddess of Light are all transformed from the most devout and purest holy maidens of light in their previous lives. They are collectively known as "Radiant Attendants," and their status is no less than that of ordinary deities; they are the people the Goddess of Light trusts most.

The attendant was dressed in a pristine white gown, her face serene and her eyes clear as the purest crystal light.

But at this moment, there was also an undisguised worry and heaviness in his eyes.

Cavendish relayed the message to Attendant Hui, who, upon hearing it, dared not delay and immediately went to the palace to report.

Before long, a dazzling light shone before the gods.

A figure composed of absolute light, whose perfection cannot be described in mortal language, slowly coalesced and took shape in the dazzling radiance.

Ariel has arrived.

But at this moment, she is completely different from the goddess of light in Cavendish's memory, who was eternally radiating warmth, tolerance, and sacred majesty!
That exquisite face remained unchanged, yet it was shrouded in an inescapable, deep-seated sorrow.

Cavendish cleared his throat and said to Aetherel:

"His Holiness the Prophet has a few words for me to deliver to Lady Dawn privately."

Ariel remained silent, but the terrifying divine power that enveloped the entire plane suddenly receded, as if precisely controlled by an invisible hand.

Instantly, a divine realm of absolute vacuum, absolute silence, and absolute danger formed around her.

The seraphim and radiant attendants in the distance did not linger at all; they immediately transformed into streaks of light, retreated far away, and disappeared into the leaden gray sky.

Cavendish then slowly relayed what Madora had told him to Atheriel:
"This is exactly what His Holiness the Prophet was going to tell you in the Prophet's Plane."

However, the Ice God was also present at the time, and you left in such a hurry that you didn't have time to say it.

He paused slightly, his gaze meeting Ariel's eyes, which held an icy, emotionless quality:

"His Holiness the Prophet says that the God of Shadows has not completely perished!"

For a moment, Cavendish felt the world light up.

The deep sorrow that had settled on Aetherel's beautiful face was instantly shattered by this shocking news.

Instead, there was a mixture of ecstasy, disbelief, and a desperate, frantic hope, like a drowning person grasping at a straw.

Where is he?
Tell me, what exactly happened?
Madora... what did he see?

Cavendish felt as if his soul was being ignited by Aetherial's burning gaze.

He endured immense pressure, his voice hoarse from the oppressive divine power, yet he still struggled to maintain clear communication:
"His Holiness the Prophet specifically instructed that once certain truths are spoken, they will be like a boulder thrown into the river of fate, inevitably stirring up unpredictable and uncontrollable causal storms, and may even produce very bad consequences!"
However, His Majesty said that he would tell you the whole truth in five to ten years at most.

Five to ten years is the time when the divine realm will be in a life-or-death crisis. Whatever the Shadow God's plans are, they should be revealed by then.

Madora believed that by that time, the Goddess of Light would likely notice something amiss without her prompting.

A very bad result!
Ariel murmured, repeating the same thing to himself.

The frenzied flames that had almost consumed her reason suddenly paused. The mad hope in her eyes did not die out; instead, it settled into a deeper light.

She was not a dull goddess; she instantly understood Madora's subtext—

The time is not right! Forcibly revealing the truth will only destroy that one and only possible hope!
Ariel's voice rose slowly, carrying a chilling calm:

"Okay, I won't ask anymore, I'll...wait!"

Cavendish breathed a sigh of relief; he had finally secured his first step!
He dared not relax for a moment and immediately brought up the deal that Madora had told him about.

Ariel's gaze instantly turned sharp as a knife.

A cold, all-knowing smile curved her lips.

"help?"

Her voice carried a hint of understanding and a touch of sarcasm, "Did Madora release this information just for this so-called 'help'?"

Cavendish smiled bitterly to himself, but dared not show it on his face, only bowing his head even more respectfully.

"Tell me!"

Cavendish's voice was clear and calm:
"His Majesty the Prophet needs the divine and demonic equipment that the God of Shadow once forged for his divine guards—the blueprints for the Shadow Annihilation Crossbow!"

After listening to Cavendish's explanation of "helping".

The pallor that had faded slightly due to great hope on Aetherel's beautiful face was now covered by an even deeper layer of frost.

That blueprint is no ordinary item.

Those are traces of the existence of the God of Shadows.

It was a symbol he personally designed, supervised, and entrusted to his most trusted guards.

It was a relic she carefully preserved in the deepest part of the Temple of Light after his fall, as if guarding the last spark of hope.

It was the only cold comfort she could touch and that was related to him during her long, lonely years.

But Madora had news she cared about most...

Aetherel stared intently at Cavendish, his gaze seemingly capable of freezing the man and Madora behind him, and asked coldly:

"Don't you pride yourselves on being the 'maintainers' of order and contracts?"

What's the point of having this?

At this moment, when the divine realm is facing a crisis, at a crucial moment in the covenant of the gods, and on the eve of choosing a nation to bind with, he asked himself for this divine and demonic equipment that could influence war and change the strength of a nation.

The intention is very clear.

Cavendish felt as if he were frozen, the divine radiance of his contract flickering wildly around him, emitting a mournful cry of unbearable strain.

But he still stood tall, and the almost rigid calm on his face, befitting the God of Contracts, remained unbroken.

He met Ariel's gaze, a gaze capable of incinerating stars, his voice steady and carrying an unquestionable sense of justice:
"We requested this blueprint from His Majesty the Dawn not to give it to anyone, but to return it!"

"return?"

The ice in Ariel's eyes instantly transformed into even sharper ice blades.

A mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips:

"To whom should it be returned?"
This is a relic of the God of Shadows!
Besides me, who else in this vast divine realm is qualified, has the standing to 'claim' it?

A barely perceptible glint flashed in Cavendish's golden eyes as he took a step forward, his voice clear and firm:
"Ms. Dawn, besides being an item of the God of Shadows, it is also an exclusive heirloom of the 'Shadow Guards,' isn't it?"

"Shadow Guardian..."

Ariel's eyes narrowed sharply as the familiar address instantly stirred up long-buried memories.

Those silent, loyal guards... their images flashed through her mind in an instant.

Cavendish caught that fleeting glint in her eyes and immediately pressed his advantage:
"The 'Pale Wings' that I founded on the human continent includes a family called the Dark Wings family."

The Darkwing family's bloodline originates from a Shadow Guard commander who followed the God of Shadow until his very last breath.

Ariel's body jolted violently.

Darkwing Family
One of the five-winged families of the Pale Wings.

Of course she knew, but she had never associated it with the Shadow Guards.

Cavendish, observing the drastic fluctuations in Ariel's expression, knew that this crucial information had struck the softest spot in her heart.

He pressed his advantage, his voice carrying a subtle, almost imperceptible guiding tone:

"Therefore, Lady Dawn, His Majesty the Prophet's intention is not to use this blueprint for worldly conflicts, but to return it to its rightful owner."

Return this heirloom belonging to the Shadow Guards to their bloodline descendants!

He bowed slightly, his posture respectful.
"That is the sole reason I asked you for this drawing!"

Ariel remained silent.

She slowly closed her eyes.

An extremely complicated emotion surged in her heart.

There was resistance and reluctance to have the belongings demanded, shock at the fact that the bloodline of the deceased's subordinates still existed, and a trace of indescribable comfort.

There's also a sense of destiny, as if one is completing some unfinished task for the god of shadow.
After a long while, she slowly opened her eyes. In those golden eyes, all the intense emotions were forcibly suppressed, leaving only a bottomless calm tinged with heavy weariness.

Her voice was soft, yet it possessed a power that penetrated the soul:

"Are you going to give this blueprint to 'Pale Wings'?"

Cavendish met her gaze and nodded with utmost solemnity:

"Exactly!"

Aetherel stopped speaking and slowly extended her hand.

Space silently twisted and collapsed in her palm.

A dark rift, seemingly capable of swallowing all light, appeared out of nowhere.

Deep within the fissure, there was not nothingness, but rather flowing dark golden patterns resembling solidified lava.

A chilling, deathly still, yet terrifying aura containing destructive penetrating power slowly spread out, like an ancient beast awakened from its slumber.

Immediately afterwards, a strange "paper" that was neither gold nor jade, neither leather nor silk, was slowly drawn out from the dark crack by an invisible force.

The paper has a deep, shadowy color throughout, and its surface is covered with countless extremely complex and dark runes.

Divine and Demonic Equipment Blueprint - Shadow Annihilation Crossbow
Ariel's gaze was fixed on the blueprint.

My fingertips trembled slightly, as if I could still feel the unique aura of the shadows that had long since vanished.

His eyes flashed with a variety of complex emotions: pain, longing, and a faint glimmer of hope.

Then, with a sudden wave of his hand, the blueprint transformed into a dark streak of light that tore through space, flying towards Cavendish.

Cavendish took the blueprints, which were completely enveloped by countless flowing runes.

Aetherel's expression had returned to calm, and she said coldly:

“I will oversee the whereabouts of these blueprints, and you’d better really hand them over to the Shadow Guard.”

Cavendish said in a deep voice:

"Rest assured, Lady Dawn, I am the deity who holds the power of fairness and contracts!"

Cavendish didn't linger long afterward; his figure transformed into a pale golden streak of light and disappeared at the edge of the leaden gray sky of the Plane of Light. (End of Chapter)