Chapter 166: The Third!
"My Queen, these are the recent developments across the nations," Gabriel said, his gaze fixed on the holographic display before him. He stood tall and unyielding. But his posture belied the tension in his voice:
"The Star Nation’s progress has slowed due to low funds. Our prosperity is faltering."
Matilda, seated on the throne, her silver and crimson hair a halo of power, simply smirked. "And my dear sister?" she mused, her voice a low purr.
"The Elves’ nation has produced more MEB—Mercenaries-Extermination-Bombs. Enough to take down hundreds of millions of mercenaries. But the bomb’s magic can now affect other creatures," Gabriel continued, a hint of concern in his tone. He knew the volatile nature of the Elves’ magic, a double-edged sword that could bring ruin as easily as victory.
"Hmm, that sister of mine is truly amazing," Matilda said, her smirk widening. She gestured for him to continue, an air of amused superiority about her.
"The Dragon Nation is busy training more pure-bloods. Lord Patrick seems to be in charge of these new recruits, but the reason is unknown," Gabriel reported.
"And the little birds?" she sighed, a flicker of boredom in her eyes.
"The Phoenixes are silently growing their nations, expanding their territories and taking over every unoccupied planet," he replied.
"Forget it," she muttered, "Continue."
Gabriel nodded. "The Three-Eyed Nation was attacked by... huh?" He stared at the screen, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face.
Matilda’s smile vanished, replaced by a subtle frown. "What is it, Gabriel? What do you see?"
"God Wolf," he said, the name a shockwave in the silent hall:
"He took down the Three-Eyed Nation, placing his own on the fifth spot in the ranking board."
Matilda’s lips curved into a mischievous, triumphant grin. "I didn’t expect this," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light.
Gabriel was confused. "Why are you happy? This is a threat, My Queen."
"He took down the Three-Eyed Nation," she said, slowly rising from her throne, her every movement radiating lethal grace. "The next target will be a nation below his rank."
"But why?" Gabriel persisted, his brow furrowed. "Shouldn’t he aim higher?"
"God Wolf... I understand how he thinks. His main goal is my position," she explained, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone.
"He won’t dare attack us with his current strength. I admit he is powerful, but he alone can’t take on my billions of soldiers. Our military power is unmatched. His next move will be to absorb the nations below him to increase his military might. Only then will he attack me." She turned to face Gabriel, her eyes hard and resolute:
"The Immortal Council won’t be able to hold him back. We must prepare."
"My Queen, those are all assumptions," Gabriel said, trying to reassure her. "We have our secret weapons. The Beastify Nation may be strong, but we are stronger."
"Are you deaf, Gabriel?!" she snapped, her patience wearing thin.
"He won’t attack now precisely because we are stronger. But he knows us. He knows everything about this nation, I can feel it!"
Suddenly, an unseen force slammed into Matilda’s chest. She gasped, her breath stolen, and a spray of blood erupted from her lips, staining the pristine marble floor.
"My Queen!" Gabriel cried, his composure shattered, his mind unable to comprehend the attack.
Matilda blinked, a profound sense of emptiness washing over her. Her immense power, was ebbing away, like water draining from a broken vessel. In less than five seconds, she was no longer a celestial rank warrior. She was a Grand Master—a flicker of her former self.
"No! No! Impossible!" she stammered, her voice thin with disbelief and fear.
"What happened?!" Gabriel yelled, his mind reeling.
"No!" she screamed, her last bastion of control crumbling. She fumbled for a teleportation crystal, her hands trembling. Crushing it, she vanished from the Throne Hall, leaving Gabriel dumbfounded and alone in the silence.
____
[The Secret Base.]
The air in Matilda’s secret base crackled with a different kind of energy—the nervous anticipation of her three loyal guards. Jabez; Alastor, and Andras. They turned as one, their heads snapping toward the entrance as Matilda burst through the door, her face pale, a streak of blood still clinging to her lips.
"My Queen!" Jabez exclaimed, dropping to his knees, his face etched with concern. The others followed his lead, their posture a mix of deference and dread.
"Something is seriously wrong!" she screamed, her voice raw with panic and rage. "Why did I lose all my cultivation?!"
Jabez swallowed hard, his mind racing. "My Queen... I believe God Wolf destroyed your sword. You weren’t bonded to it, but you used part of your soul to create it. That part was just... destroyed."
Matilda froze, the truth a cold, sharp blade to her heart. "Why the hell are you telling me this now?!" she yelled, her rage a palpable force.
Her silver and crimson hair began to glow, the crimson threads burning with an inner fire.
’Oh no, the Queen is angry.’ Jabez thought, trembling internally.
"I need my strength back! Tell me the quickest way to restore it!" she demanded, her voice icy.
"My... My Queen, only the Third can restore your destroyed soul," Jabez stammered, sweat beading on his temple. "If she pleases, she might even give you another God-rank weapon."
".....?!"
Matilda fell silent, processing his words. "The Third... Where is she?"
"The Upper World, My Queen. I can summon her in one of her temples," he replied, a faint tremor in his voice.
"The Upper World?" Matilda was stunned. "You know how to get there?"
"Our strength was greatly reduced when we entered the Lower World," Jabez explained, his confidence returning.
"But if we get to the gateway you created three hundred years ago, we can leave this world and enter the Upper World. Our powers will be fully restored, and we will be able to protect you there."
Matilda listened, her mind a whirlwind of possibilities. She had no memory of the gateway, but if going to the Upper World meant regaining her strength, she would do anything.
"Get ready!" she commanded, her voice regaining a flicker of its old power:
"We leave at first light!" She turned and strode away, leaving her guards kneeling in her wake.
They remained on their knees until she was out of sight, then slowly, hesitantly, rose to their feet.
"Jabez... are you sure you can summon the third?" Alastor asked, a deep frown etched on his face.
"Even if I had the power, I would never dare," Jabez said, gritting his teeth.
"Before her, we are just ants." He added, "The only person who might help is the Queen’s personal guard, Vinous. He alone can do it. If any of us try, the Third might take it as an insult and kill us on the spot."
"Then why did you tell her you could?" Andras asked, his frown deepening.
"Hope," Jabez exhaled, a weary look in his eyes.
"We are going back to the Upper World. With the Queen with us, the Third might answer my call... As a Sixth Order, her strength is beyond our comprehension." He grumbled, a hint of frustration in his voice:
"Why does it have to be her...? Why not the Second?"
He looked at the two men over his shoulder, his resolve hardening. "Get ready. We leave tomorrow. Go and get everything we need."
Alastor and Andras nodded, their forms dissolving into the shadows.
Jabez stood alone for a moment, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Finally! We can meet the Fourth and Fifth Deaths... I should let them know."