Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

“Don’t forget our plan.” Echel winked and turned her gaze to Ralph, who was gazing at the moon from the windowsill.

After handing Violet's love letter to this wild king, he finally indicated tonight that he would take action.

To ensure he could keep the plan a secret from Ralph, Lyle was unaware of the details. In Echel's words, Lyle was a glass bottle; he had absolutely no secrets inside.

Lyle expressed concern about Echer's current situation. Hungry flesh and blood had undergone earthquake resistance tests, but never this intensely. He really didn't want the founder of Lewes to jump away and disappear the next moment.

Trying to make Relf uncomfortable and lose his condition by using vibration and bumps was a terrible idea. Lyle could barely feel his legs anymore, while Relf was still acting like nothing was wrong.

"He was a born knight-errant."

Lyle rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the compliment, but he's more than just a ranger."

Echer shrugged. "I plan to have the Protector General attend the banquet. Lyle, we need to find a way to get him drunk."

Lyle expressed great approval of the plan, "Good idea, as far as I know, Uncle Ralph can't hold his liquor."

"Yes, so the difficulty lies in... how to get a cautious person to pick up a glass."

Seeing Echer's unwavering gaze, Lyle understood what he meant.

"You're planning to trade one of me for one with my uncle?"

"Humans have a tendency to blindly follow others. When one person falls, he or she is also prone to falling. I am now a fake dead person, and I will not get drunk."

"Therefore, there is only one option left."

“But I clearly saw Princess Kayla also…” Lyle shut his mouth under Echer’s bear-like gaze.

For the sake of Ralph's happiness, I'll grit my teeth and make this sacrifice.

With a sense of mission to die a heroic death, Lyle grasped Echer's hand, "Your Majesty! Everything is in your hands now!"

"By the name of Echer Lewether, I will protect the Duke's happiness as I protected Lewether!"

"I'm going!"

With everything ready, Lyle skipped over to the man.

Nia would never miss the feast, but she couldn't let Ralf notice her in her original form.

Fortunately, Lewesser is very receptive to new things, which is probably related to his love of hunting strange creatures. Nia was confined to a small room, where four top chefs restricted her movements by providing her with a constant stream of delicious food.

She must have been happy, even though her temporary farewell to Lyle was just a wave of her free tentacles.

Once they have food, they won't be clingy anymore.

Lewesser revels in victory, Derya sinks into the tranquility of triumph, while others savor the taste of defeat.

The nearest national church.

The handsome man looked troubled as he gazed at the silent knights beneath him, his gaze dimming as he pondered the situation.

"Commander of the Algernon Legion, look at the mess the Judges have made!"

“Lord Raphael, we are just doing our duty.”

"Is your so-called duty to destroy two human nations?! Don't you understand the consequences of your actions?! The relationship between the Holy Light and the kingdoms is already precarious, and now you bastards want to break through that ice. Think about what the other nations will think? The Holy Light has begun to harm us!"

"First, they are heretics who do not believe in the Holy Light, and are fundamentally different from the human nations. Those who are not possessed by the Holy Light are its enemies. Our actions as judges are not wrong according to the dogma! Second, Raphael, you are too weak. Your policy of appeasement will only make those petty bystanders oblivious to their fate. We will make them remember why they had to make the Holy Light their only faith."

Before Algernon could finish speaking, the guards around him sensed his contempt for their leader and stepped forward in unison, but Frey stopped them from moving any further.

"Now is not the time for internal strife."

Algernon snorted coldly.

"Eliminating potential threats is the responsibility and duty of us judges. Or, Lord Raphael, do you still naively believe that all human races are one, and that all are children of the Holy Light?"

"Human beings are children of chaos, of discrimination, of conflict. Our task is to establish order, our order, amidst chaos."

Raphael sighed.

"Times have changed, Algernon. Now, what the Holy Light needs is not conquest, but protection. Three of the four leaders are gone, and our strength is waning."

"Then we should do it even more!" Algernon roared. "Don't tell me you can't feel it, the wheel of fate has begun to turn, the banners of the ages are changing, and new forces are emerging one after another. We need power! The Judges need new leaders! New angels!"

Raphael squinted. "No wonder you wanted to submit a request for war..."

Paladins advance through merit and glory, and one such method is the annihilation of heretics. The Inquisitors intend to nourish the Legion with the nourishment gained from the war against heretics, using the power of war to give birth to new angels.

"Algernon, you're about to advance to the seventh rank?"

"One step away."

Raphael felt a surge of admiration for this Legion Commander of the Inquisitors. He was perhaps the most inspiring figure in the Holy Light Legion, considering that the existing angels were largely promoted by Raymond, who himself was practically blessed with extraordinary abilities. Those of them who had been through it all knew very well the difficulty of becoming a Crusader leader.

A legion commander who strives for promotion.

Regardless, a mistake is a mistake. And they lost; if Raphael hadn't intervened, the number of Judges surviving would certainly have been even lower.

"All members of the Judgement Knights are to guard the Sanctuary of Debyvan. No one is permitted to leave the Sanctuary without the permission of the angels or the Pope!" Raphael did not emphasize the consequences of violating discipline. Those of the Holy Light could not possibly violate discipline, because to do so would mean falling into depravity, and their faith would bring down punishment.

“Your will,” Algernon replied briefly, preparing to leave.

"Wait a moment."

A streak of light pierced the ground in front of Algernon, and a bright light burst forth from the dark blade.

"Darklight Sword...Are you humiliating me, Raphael?" The holy sword that once belonged to Saint George, the Fire Angel and leader of the Inquisitors, could only be wielded by the power of a Crusader leader.

"This was originally the holy sword of the Judge, and now it is returned to you."

"You'll find it useful one day."

Chapter 362: Sheliu, the Breaker

The lush grass in the darkness resembles the outstretched fingers of Mother Earth, attempting to touch the myriad creatures she created. Even the gentlest mother can change her heart when the sunlight fades.

Her children, held in the palm of her hand, had their former tenderness turned to indifference, becoming the final sight in her deathly eyes.

The flowing blood has congealed, and the severed limbs are hidden in the grass, where they will one day become food for germs and other tiny creatures.

The cold wind showed its only mercy, allowing the souls wandering in fear to linger a little longer in their mangled remains, to bid their final farewell to their lives.

Lewesser and Dereya took away their comrade's body, leaving only Devonrela's greed and themselves abandoned here, unable to find peace.

They weren't even losers; they were just expendable objects, clowns.

In this land of despair, the cold wind carried the wanderers into the night.

A horse-drawn carriage, the sound of hooves and the restless neighing of animals sounding terrifying in the deathly silence. Every jolt of the carriage left a trail on the dead flesh.

The coachman put down his whip and stepped down lightly. His white robe was supported by the lush vegetation, and his movements were like those of a ghost floating.

Devonleya's messenger, with a chilling smile, opened the carriage door.

"We've arrived, Lord Greeda."

Fifteen minutes later, a short, comically thick leg stepped onto the steps.

The aristocratic fat on his face swallowed his neck, and his eyes were like the only decoration on a melted cake. Dressed elegantly, his body was shaped like a ball by the fabric, and Lord Greda's eyes held irritation and arrogance, as well as a hint of hidden fear.

“Useless! Useless!” Greedar roared at the corpse lying close at hand. He had staked everything on his family, but plans hadn't kept up with changes. He hadn't become king; he had lost everything.

As a nobleman born into nobility, the world felt like a heavy punch that made him vomit. His past delusions and aristocratic pride had all vanished like smoke.

Greeda gripped his cane tightly, the gruesome sight of death and the burgeoning stench of decay tormenting his senses. His beady eyes gleamed with disgust as he stared at the composed servant before him.

Slave, lowly slave, Devonleya should bear all the losses.

Looking at that tall, thin figure, as frail as a piece of paper, Greda could already hear the screams of the servant being whipped in his mind.

“That filthy, lowly dog, if he fails again this time, I will make him understand the consequences of fooling Devonleya.”

Greda stared intently at her servant; he had botched everything! She found ample justification for her next move.

"We've arrived, Lord Greeda."

The two stood in the center of the corpses, their dim, unseeing eyes seeming to be staring at them.

This fear completely ignited Greeda de Wenleira's tyranny. He brandished his cane and charged at the messenger.

"Where's your trump card?! The trump card that will give me victory! You bastard! You actually brought me to such a filthy, hellish place!"

“I did as you said, hiding behind the scenes! I mercifully approved of your damned plan! Is this how you repay the master who showed you kindness! You fooled me! You destroyed everything Devonleya had! You destroyed everything I had!”

"I'm going to break your bones and make you spend the rest of your life scrambling for food in the mud like a stray dog!"

The envoy's smile did not fade despite his insults.

“Indeed, everything has exceeded my expectations. It was indeed my mistake, Lord Greedar.”

“I have the deepest sympathy for everything you have suffered. Also, thank you for your sacrifice, which brought me victory.”

"My victory."

The gleaming dagger plunged into Greda's body, piercing through the grease and penetrating his heart; that arrogant cane could no longer be raised.

Greda's face showed the same despair as the dead. Before his vision went completely dark, he saw the servant removing his disguise.

Her features were as graceful as a woman's, but what was most striking were her eyes. In the moonless night, those eyes seemed to hold the stars.

Sheriwu smiled and bowed to the dead body.

"Thank you for your efforts. Your behind-the-scenes performance attracted the attention of both Holy Light and Deria. It was a great experience to be able to observe them up close."

“Thank you for your foolishness and greed, which gave me this opportunity.” Sheriwu pulled out the dagger and wiped the blood off it with his white robe.

"The original plan was to use two countries to complete the sacrificial ceremony. Although there was an unexpected incident, we also saw some interesting things."

"The flesh and blood of ten thousand people plus Devonleya's noble blood is barely enough. Ha, the world is truly fair; even someone like you has value."

Sheriwu tore off his sleeve, revealing his bare arm covered in twisted, blood-red runes. He looked up at the sky, chanting eerie songs, and began his sacrificial ritual.

As the body twisted unnaturally, a chilling sense of foreboding hovered over this oppressive dead land. Whispers arose in the darkness, and blood-stained plants began to wither and rot.

The song changed; from that writhing humanoid body, a wicked, malevolent sound flowed forth, spreading to every corner of the world in a way incomprehensible to humankind.

The wriggling infant, the mocking stars, the churning dark waves, the slumbering remains.

The dead land began to rage wildly, corpses stood up, their grease turning their skin into some disgusting gel, boneless limbs danced wildly in the air, and sickly gray carapaces grew from the nails and began to spread.

It transformed from a humanoid form into a giant, shelled creature resembling a nautilus.