Chapter 1 Twenty Years Ago

Twenty years ago.

The fireworks burned high, a blinding red.

The city of Brielda, blood-washed that day, was enveloped in a sea of fire.

The festive atmosphere of the National Day celebrations had long been replaced by anger and rioting.

The once-prosperous streets were filled with cries, screams, and roars.

Hordes of rioters surged like a tide toward the noble residences, wielding knives and clubs, their eyes burning with hatred.

Most of the city's main buildings were attacked, thick smoke blotted out the sky, and flames licked at the ancient wooden beams. Occasionally, panicked nobles escaped in carriages, only to be intercepted by angry mobs with heavy weapons. Women adorned with gold and silver were dragged from their carriages, their jewelry and ornaments snatched away, and before long, they lay on the ground, faces covered in blood, lifeless.

The contemporary Twelve War Gods were all divided. Those who should have received the blessing of the God of War and Swords on this day all joined the battlefield, attacking each other, either protecting the royal family, aiding the commoners, or helping the nobles suppress the riots.

The firelight of the Empire's artificer weaponry and mana particle cannons crisscrossed above the city's defensive barrier. The screams of the imperial soldiers were incessant. Civilians were inevitably caught in the crossfire, and even the city's defensive barrier, overloaded, could not fully function.

Noble residences, with the slightest bad luck, would be engulfed in flames upon being captured, their crimson roofs collapsing with a roar.

The entire city of Brielda was plunged into a frenzy of self-destruction.

The heart of the vast Kretia Empire was reduced to a dilapidated ruin in a single day. The prosperity of the past became a bubble, leaving only a purgatory of blood and fire.

Why the conflict was endless, from when it had been incessant, no one could provide an answer.

Not far from the city hall, in a mansion befitting his family and power.

Crimson tapestries hung on the walls, intricate embroidery displaying the history and glory of his family and the Kretia Empire.

He, barely nine years old, propped himself up on his elbows, crawling out from between the floorboards of his bedroom.

His urine-soaked pants were sticky, but not unbearably so.

More than that, his tense joints were stiff and painful, and it was even more painful to try not to make any noise on the floor.

Fortunately, those guys had searched everything here but hadn't found him, but it wouldn't hurt to be more careful.

From the knowledge he had learned since childhood, he knew that any creature would be hungry if it didn't eat. The strange thing was, he hadn't eaten almost all day today, but he wasn't hungry at all.

Perhaps it was a protective mechanism to avoid vomiting from the smell of his relatives being roasted.

It was winter in late November, but his throat was as dry as if he had been running around in the middle of summer, his head ached terribly, and the tinnitus was incessant.

After confirming the condition of the room, he crawled on the floor, took off his noble attire, and dressed as slovenly and dirty as possible, making his ash-smeared face look more like a commoner, no, a refugee.

He carefully avoided any noises in the house, trying to sneak from a place where no one could see him to the backyard, and then escape from this mansion that was almost empty.

No matter where he passed, this mansion, which had made him feel happy and secure since birth, had become completely unrecognizable.

Anything that was even slightly valuable had been looted.

Even the vases, even the flowers in the vases, had not been spared.

The cages had been opened, leaving only the broken feathers and blood-stained broken wings of the canaries.

He found a broken vase and, like a dog, stuck his head into the base of the vase, desperately pouring water to moisten his throat, regardless of whether the water mixed with mud was clean or not.

He had finally survived.

Then, without even wiping his mouth, he looked around the room.

The cabinets were broken and ransacked. Even the maid's clothes had been torn out and scattered all over the floor, with footprints on them.

Perhaps they had been stained with too many dirty things, so no one had picked them up.

He supported himself on the tattered floor, slowly rising from a crawling position, further listening to the movements outside.

From what he could glimpse from the corner of his eye, the corridor was a mess, covered in dirt, blood, and sticky stuff.

After confirming that it was safe, he took careful steps.

However, as he was about to walk outside, he stepped on something soft.

He lowered his head and, bewitched, bent down to pick it up, regardless of whether this was a dangerous and unnecessary action at this time.

It was his sister's ribbon.

He recognized it.

It was his sister's most commonly used hair accessory.

Although it wasn't particularly gorgeous, his sister liked it very much because it was the birthday gift he had given her.

Picking up the ribbon, the pungent smell made his hand tremble.

After a brief struggle, he threw the ribbon away as if he had been electrocuted, and looked forward again.

Stealthily peeking at the backyard from the cracks in the corridor window, confirming that those guys had temporarily left the vicinity, he held his breath and nimbly climbed over the window, which was more than a meter high.

The sky was a murky red.

He couldn't tell if it was morning or dusk.

His shadow stretched long. He used the family knight's training to keep his position close to the wall, hiding his shadow.

When he was five or six years old, he was considered to have outstanding talent, and even the knight who trained him was quickly defeated by him.

If not for that, he probably wouldn't have had any hope of concealing himself today and finding an opportunity to escape at this time.

He slowly moved along the wall, aiming at the courtyard next door.

As expected.

The mansion next door was also a sea of fire with black smoke billowing.

He subconsciously dared not look up.

Because if he looked up, he would see the inhuman thing on top of his own mansion.

"He can't run far. He's just a child of a few years old. He definitely has no hope of escaping today."

"If we catch him, we'll cut him open, just like his parents! Hang him on the roof of the mansion as a warning!"

"Their family has royal blood. Aren't we going too far by doing this?"

"It's already come to this. That's why we have to carry it through to the end."

"Never let the remnants of the marquis's family go!"

The sound of searching footsteps rang out, causing him to hold his breath again.

His eyes were sore. At this point, he felt that it would be best to simply give up running and commit suicide.

That way, he wouldn't be afraid, and he wouldn't be in pain.

The endless fire, from who knows where, was blowing, stinging his cheeks.

The surging momentum echoed the catastrophe.

Just listening to this sound, he seemed to see his father's head being cut off, his mother's clothes being torn, and, having heard it with his own ears, his sister on the floor becoming weaker and weaker amidst her cries, slowly losing her life and no longer breathing.

He was just a nine-year-old boy, and his shoulders could no longer bear it at this time.

As long as he lost everything, he could become relaxed.

That was how it should be.

With just one step, a misstep would lead to a fall into a living hell.

Why was he still seeking to survive?

The boy's eyes reflected the fire in the sky, observing the actions of these looters and murderers.

His blood-stained lips were no longer tightly pursed, but revealed a released smile.

That half-sad, half-happy voice made him seem to be crying and laughing at the same time.

Twenty years passed in a flash.

The dawn was breaking, and the streets of Brielda were already awakening.

Strands of golden sunlight pierced through the clouds, scattering over the sparkling waters of the Grand River.

This reborn heart of the empire was no less prosperous and beautiful than any of the empire's cities along the mountains and coasts.

Heroic statues stood solemnly, awaiting the annual grand celebration.

Magnificent buildings and a rich artistic atmosphere permeated every corner of Brielda.

The Kretia Memorial Square in the city center was surrounded by white monuments and uniquely styled dark gray statues of the First Generation War Gods.

Every year in late November, a series of festivals made Brielda lively.

A wisp of morning light, a scent of roses, or a piece of gentle music played by an artist occasionally reflected on the wide streets, like birds chirping in a greenhouse. Even at sunrise, this city looked like a pure paradise.

The sun rose higher and higher.

Until the ancient sundial in the Grand Abbey on the southernmost side of the city pointed to nine o'clock in the morning.

"What a beautiful day today is."

Many students at the Saint Kretia Abbey were leaving the abbey area in a hurry, heading to the Kretia Memorial Square in the city center in groups.

"I've been waiting for this day for a year. I'm going to have a wild time."

"You said it."

His companion echoed,

"Today, His Majesty the Emperor will personally inspect the cavalry regiment. This is the twentieth anniversary of that Day of Mourning. The scene will definitely be spectacular."

At the Grand Station of the Saint Kretia Abbey, a group of young people who looked like students were discussing.

"It's a pity that Ursula and Elsa couldn't be called out today. They said they would just watch the broadcast from the Brielda Broadcasting Company in the abbey. It would be so much better to see it in person."

"Perhaps Ursula, as the eldest daughter of the Roland Marquis family, also suffered during the Bloodwash Day..."

"Let's talk about Professor Landry and the new rumors about his cat wife!"

Realizing that they had touched on a sensitive topic, they coughed lightly and stopped talking about their friend's family history, instead turning back to the most relaxed and interesting topics.

"What, there's a new version?"

Then there was a burst of laughter again.

The place they were going to at this moment was the plaza in front of the Saint Astri Palace in the center of Brielda, six hundred meters north of the Holworth Cross Claw, where the Empire Special Operations is located.

Therefore, the Empire Special Operations had been jokingly referred to as the "Royal Bootlicker Guard" for a time. Compared to the Imperial Guards who specialized in maintaining the interior of the palace, the Empire Special Operations would never condone any enemy who attempted to harm the safety of the empire, and its deterrent power was greater.

The Royal Saint Astri Palace was originally ordered to be built by Hoffman I, the monarch of the Kretia Empire. From the 15th to the 17th century of the Solar Calendar, the Saint Astri Palace was the main residence of the Kretia Empire's monarchs.

The Saint Astri Palace was built of red brick and is a typical architectural style of the Cyrus Dynasty.

The palace has four palaces, namely the Envoy's Courtyard, the Divine Cultivation Courtyard, the Color Courtyard, and the Bright Courtyard. The main building has a throne hall for holding major ceremonies such as coronations.

The famous Twelve War Gods Blessing Ceremony is held in the Kretia Memorial Square in front of the Saint Astri Palace to pray for the annual blessing of the God of War and Swords for the Twelve War Gods.

The most famous interior scene of the Saint Astri Palace is the Royal Inner Court, which was once the place where the emperors of the Kretia Empire met with ministers and received foreign envoys.

The inner court is furnished with luxurious tapestries and paintings from the Cyrus Dynasty. Another important room is the Throne Hall designed by the ancient imperial artist Prawns Jongville. Niches at both ends are filled with busts of the emperors of the Kretia Empire. The murals on both sides of the corridor depict the town landscape of the Age of Gods in the Book of Genesis. There are also maid's lounges and armouries etc.

Many important ceremonies, such as welcome ceremonies for state visits and wedding banquets for royal family members, are held here. The coronation ceremony of the current King of the Kretia Empire, Saint Baldo the Great, was held here.

"Did you know that the official parade ceremony and tradition for the Kretia Empire's National Day is divided into two parts?"

Some Saint Kretia Abbey students who walked by also acted like history teachers to popularize knowledge to their friends.

"The morning is the regular celebration and parade."

"Usually, after the regular celebration in the morning, there is a lunch break, and the War Gods Blessing Ceremony begins at 3:00 p.m. on Grand Avenue in front of the Saint Astri Palace."

"The entire ceremony lasts about two hours."

According to the process in previous years.

First, the Royal Cavalry Guard assembles. 1,400 Imperial Guards, 200 cavalry, and 400 members of the military band from the Royal Cavalry Guard assemble in front of the Saint Astri Palace.

During the Royal Cavalry Guard's inspection, the Royal Cavalry Guard is inspected by the Royal Colonel, who is a member of the royal family.

Then, the Emperor and royal family members arrive in carriages. The King departs from the Saint Astri Palace in a royal carriage, passes through the parade ground, and takes a seat in the royal box.

Other royal family members follow closely in carriages.

To the sound of the military band playing the Royal Flame's music, the Emperor, under the protection of the Imperial Guards, inspects the Royal Cavalry Guard on horseback.

The flag-bearer enters and takes his place. The flag-bearer departs from the Saint Astri Palace on horseback, holding a waving cavalry regiment flag, arrives at the parade ground, and the military band plays the ancient Cyrus March.

Each company conducts a military flag parade. To the sound of military music, each company of the cavalry regiment marches in formation along the parade ground. Each formation is led by an officer and a military band. Finally, they line up on Grand Avenue, and the morning parade ends.

In the afternoon.

Royal Cavalry Guard parade. The climax of the parade is the Royal Cavalry Guard marching in formation past the Saint Astri Palace to pay tribute to the Great Emperor.

Then, the War Gods attend and begin the blessing ceremony.

The national anthem is played throughout the venue, and the Royal Artificer formation flies overhead.

In the closing steps, royal family members return to the Saint Astri Palace by carriage or on horseback, and the War Gods can also leave the venue.

Finally, at sunset, royal family members greet the public on the open-air balcony of the Saint Astri Palace.

The celebration reaches its climax with the Royal Artificer Corps' aerobatic flight performance.

The historical tradition of the parade is intended to demonstrate the strength of the Kretia Empire's royal family and army and to inspire the patriotic enthusiasm of the people. The military flag is held by different regiments each year, and a large number of people gather in front of the Saint Astri Palace and along the way to watch the parade, which is broadcast nationwide and is even followed by the northern kingdoms, becoming an important cultural tradition of the Kretia Empire.

And the residents of Brielda who are able to go to the scene are even more fortunate.

"I wish we could run into the professor."

While the students gossiped, they still liked the professor who had come to the Saint Kretia Abbey this year.

"Someone invited the professor, but the professor said he had an important thing to do today. I don't know what it is that makes him work overtime on National Day."

"He is such a workaholic that he didn't even rest during the Moon God Festival and continues to work overtime on National Day. To be honest, I don't think I've ever seen him rest."

"It feels like he has no time to die."

One student lamented.

"Don't talk nonsense!"

"But sometimes Professor Landry's appearance really makes people feel that he would face death calmly for certain things, and no one can persuade him, don't you think?"

"Don't..."

In front of the station, the students' words were gradually drowned out by the sound of the municipal magic rail train whistling and entering the station.

"Passengers, the Holworth rail train has entered Saint Kretia Abbey Station. The next stop is Wilton Station, which will arrive at the terminal station Holworth North in thirty minutes."

Along with the broadcast sound, people got on and off the train.

The train's iron doors closed, and it slowly accelerated in the direction of downtown Brielda.

On the other side at this time.

Saint Astri Palace, the palace officials began to be busy in the morning.

They wiped every piece of silverware, ensuring that it shone in the sunlight. They carefully ironed every tablecloth until there was not a single wrinkle. They picked the most colorful roses in the garden and decorated them in the necessary corners.

The entire Saint Astri Palace was glowing with new vitality.

The Royal Cavalry Guard assembled in front of the palace.

They wore bright red uniforms and dashing black bearskin hats. The horses neighed beneath them, their hooves pawing at the ground, seemingly sensing the uniqueness of today.

Four hundred members of the military band held musical instruments, ready to play festive music at any time.

The streets of Manholt District in downtown Brielda were already crowded with people who had come to watch the ceremony.

Even the area around the Brielda Opera House, which was two kilometers away from the palace, was blocked.

The ten o'clock bells rang, and the celebration officially began.

A royal colonel in a gorgeous uniform walked to the front of the cavalry guard and began the inspection.

His eyes swept over every soldier, ensuring that their appearance was impeccable.

The soldiers stood at attention and saluted, looking straight ahead.

Then, with the sound of horses' hooves and wheels, the royal carriage carrying Saint Baldo the Great slowly drove out of the Saint Astri Palace.

The carriage, with a gilt body, was painted with Cyrus Empire patterns. The four white horses were flawless, as if treading on clouds.

The Great Emperor wore a crimson military uniform today, and the medals on his chest shone in the bright sun.

He waved to the cheering people with a warm smile on his face.

Behind him, the queen and other royal family members also waved to the people in a very polite manner.

The response from the crowd to Saint Baldo the Great was a landslide of cheers.

Getting out of the carriage, Saint Baldo walked to the front of the Royal Cavalry Guard, his military boots making a crisp sound on the square.

The cavalrymen stood motionless, like sculptures.

Saint Baldo the Great inspected the troops as usual, his eyes sweeping over every cavalryman.

The Kretia Emperor, who was about fifty years old, held a sword, the legendary Cyrus Spirit Sword. It would make people feel that he, who was blessed by his ancestors, had a pressure that was no less than that of an eighth-order powerhouse. The royal spirits in the empire's history seemed to have turned into phantoms guarding behind him.

The cavalrymen looked straight ahead, stirring with surging passion and inspiring fighting spirit.

The Royal Military Band played the Royal Flame on time, and majestic music echoed in the square.

The sound of the trumpet was loud and long, as if it wanted to pierce through the clouds. The drumbeats were powerful and rhythmic, striking people's hearts. The melodies of the piccolo and flute were cheerful and lively, conveying the joy of the National Day celebration to the people's hearts.

The music was sometimes low and sometimes high, sometimes soothing and sometimes passionate.

The music stopped abruptly, and a cavalryman in a bright red uniform rode his horse to the front.

He held the reins in one hand and held up a banner in the other, spreading in all directions.

Then black curse flames gushed out from the ground. Ifatia manipulated these strange black flames to rage around the Ninth Progenitor, like vengeful ghosts, to completely burn this monster to ashes.

Dozens of kilometers away, on the south side of Blood Moon City, silver mechanical birds floated past.

The Temple of Extinction, governed by the Eighth Progenitor, Somerset.

This temple is like an endless arena, surrounded by dark mountains. The bright red gems on the rock walls sparkle with a strange light in the dim light.

Three Great Demons were cautiously on guard, engaged in a terrible encounter with the Blood Clan's strongest warrior, the Eighth Progenitor Marquis Somerset.

The three of them were too strong in countering spells and enchantments, and Heretir might not be able to ensure that they were successfully sent anywhere.

But by arranging opponents for others, their opponents were also determined.

"The terrain of the Temple of Extinction allows the Eighth Progenitor Somerset to hide his tracks."

Pranai said in a deep voice.

He knew the characteristics of each temple.

For the three of them, fighting a physical-type Blood Clan powerhouse here was undoubtedly the worst thing.

Sinola's spell counterattack couldn't be used at all.

"Antanas, you hide at the end. You must live."

Sinola observed this battlefield that the Bone Duke Daimongate and the Mercury Duke Missyio had once encountered.

In fact, she had no confidence in being able to fight the Eighth Progenitor Somerset head-on.

At this time, she could only bite the bullet and fight.

The most important task for her and Pranai was to protect Antanas. As long as Antanas didn't die, the two of them could basically recover.

The moment the wind blew, the figure of the Eighth Progenitor Somerset had already appeared.

Buzz!

The sound of metal exploding rang out.

Sinola did her best to resist with her scythe, but Somerset's fist seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, easily shattering the shield cast by Antanas. Sinola only felt a huge force coming, and even though she blocked it, she couldn't unload the attack, and was smashed into the cliffs of the Temple of Extinction like a cannonball, sinking deeply into it.

"Sinola!"

Antanas screamed and quickly cast a support spell.

"Do you still have time to worry about her?"

But the Eighth Progenitor Somerset's pursuit was too fast, and in the next second, he had already come to her in Antanas's horrified eyes.

West side of Blood Moon City.

The entrance to this ultra-ancient underground city closest to the city hall, where magic guides skillfully imitate the Blood Moon to cast deep shadows.

The tall and heavy outlines of the buildings made of dark stone on both sides of the empty street depict the shadows of ancient art, quietly lying in this dark city, solidifying the dust of endless years.

At this time, the mechanical assistants floating around Abigail had begun to help her build a mechanical space enchantment.

Small machine toys were connected to each other with electric light, forming a dimensional door, and supplies were also being moved out of the dimensional door.

Abigail listened to and watched the situation on each battlefield, her eyes constantly turning, and fine sweat appeared on her forehead.

At this time, she not only had to command and transmit intelligence, but also had to build a temporary base for the assault team's camp at the same time.

Barton and Hyperion were guarding behind her, ensuring that she could build safely and not be disturbed.

Suddenly, a figure streaked across the night sky. The air in the city was filled with a strong wind pressure and a whistling sound, accompanied by a bone-chilling chill, rushing straight towards Abigail.

The figure's flying speed was extremely fast. Even in the Blood Clan, its almost perfect lines must be a type that is extremely good at fighting.

A cold light flashed, and the flying blade thrown by Barton from under his cloak hit it. In an instant, the earl's body fell on the wall of the castle in the distance like a meteorite.

"He's really strong."

The moonlight shone on the Blood Clan Earl's black formal clothes, giving him a thin silver cloak, so he was not injured.

"Don't underestimate them. These humans are a bit strong."

The female Earl Saberna gave a crisp laugh and appeared from behind the corner.

Barton looked at Hyperion. After Hyperion nodded and retreated, she moved closer to Abigail.

He rushed towards the two Blood Clan earls without hesitation.

Hyperion stared at Abigail. Now she had to protect Abigail.

Two Blood Clan earls had come in a short time, and there might be more coming later.

Abigail was concentrating on gathering intelligence at the moment, ignoring the great war that was taking place not far away.

"Why are the Withered Bishop and the Tenth Progenitor here?"

Abigail's heart was half cold, and her palms were white.

Never mind the Withered Bishop. She found that there was also a powerful Blood Clan Marquis hiding in the Abyss Temple on the south side of Blood Moon City.

According to the information currently seen by the mechanical messenger, it was the Tenth Progenitor Marquis Ulysses. He was guarding the black crystal that sealed Duke Micahia in the center of the Abyss Temple.

In this way, their combat power was not equal.

Not to mention that Lanqi was facing Raschial in that special Blood King's Palace battlefield and no one had the spare capacity to save Duke Micahia, except for Sigrid, all the lines were inferior.

The other side had an extra bishop-level combat power out of thin air, and they lacked a bishop-level powerhouse to rescue the hostage Micahia.

Wherever Ulysses went, it would explode. As long as a single eighth-order battlefield went wrong, it would immediately radiate to other eighth-orders!

The worst thing was that Ulysses had already started to act.

"Ulysses, he left two eighth-order summonses next to Micahia, and his main body moved in the northwest direction."

Abigail's heart was pounding.

Judging from the direction of Ulysses's movement, he was most likely going to the Temple of Extinction in the southwest to help the Eighth Progenitor Marquis Somerset eliminate the three Great Demon Clan civil officials.

Even more likely

He was heading straight for the assault team's camp on the far west side.

If Ulysses arrived, the three of them would definitely be wiped out!

Even if Nicholas and the Empire Special Operations' reinforcements were called down, it would be to no avail.

Calling Nicholas was the worst-case scenario. That was why he, as the director, was allowed to bring down the elites of the Empire Special Operations. He should have been the surface logistics team, so he could provide more convenience for cover.

Hyperion looked at the panoramic view of the battle situation projected by the mechanical assistant in front of Abigail, and she also understood everyone's situation.

Now, not only were her companions in danger, but even they in the camp were likely to face a great disaster.

"Ulysses..."

Hyperion gritted her teeth and clenched her palms.

She knew too well how powerful the Tenth Progenitor was. He was an enemy that she had almost no way to fight against. She could not forget the fear that the Tenth Progenitor Marquis Ulysses brought her in the Third Shadow World's Darkest Day Eclipse Realm.

In the end, just like fate, this guy still followed her like a shadow.

"Abigail!"

"I'm going to take a gamble and sneak directly into the Abyss Temple. Two eighth-order summonses, I might be able to get around them, Abigail."

Hyperion grabbed Abigail's shoulders, making Abigail divide her mind for a second and listen carefully to her.

Either she would successfully steal home and rescue her father, Duke Micahia.

Or she could contain Ulysses and prevent Ulysses from joining other eighth-order battlefields.

Anyway, judging from the current situation, she had to make a decisive and quick decision.

"! I can handle it. Hyperion, you don't have to worry about my side. Go and support others. If it doesn't work, I'll call Nicholas down."

Abigail seemed to have found a savior. Her eyes lit up a little, and she grabbed Hyperion's hand and said to her.

The entire assault team seemed to be gradually collapsing.

Even if Lanqi could hold off the Third Progenitor Duke Raschial, the Blood Moon City's blessing would prevent Duke Raschial from breaking through the defense. Lanqi could only stay in the Blood King's Palace and torture each other. He couldn't open the situation alone. The only one who had the most hope of breaking through the single point was the strongest Tyrant Bishop Sigrid among all of them, but that was not something that could be done in a short time.

Everything for tactical conversion, this was currently their most likely solution to win.

Even if she and Barton died, it didn't matter.

Only by betting on Ulysses and seeing if he dared to bet to the end could there be a glimmer of hope to break the game.

The final place of the Blood Moon Evil World, the Blood King's Palace.

The gray-clothed man looked around. When his feet finally touched the ground, he saw that he was slowly landing in the center of a circular square.

The square was paved with black and white marble, and thirteen stone pillars as high as a hundred meters stood tall.

A joking voice echoed around

"Welcome to Blood Moon City."

The voice came from the bottomless mist on the edge of the square.

A figure slowly walked out, wearing a pure black velvet dress, looking only twelve or thirteen years old, with fair skin like porcelain and soft brown hair hanging to his shoulders.

Lanqi glanced at him.

"You dare to challenge me with your seventh-order strength. I really admire your courage, Professor Landry."

The Third Progenitor Duke Raschial revealed a playful smile, speaking in a relaxed tone, chatting with an ant,

"It seems that you really have no manpower available."

Raschial's eyes mocked the intruder's stupidity and ignorance.

Professor Landry's reputation was now thunderous in Brielda on the ground, but here, he was just an insignificant creature.

He originally thought that Toliado would send some top eighth-order experts to act as sacrificial positions, at least to play with him for a while, but he didn't expect that it would be an imperial professor who didn't even have eighth-order strength.

Logically speaking, only Tyrant Bishop Sigrid would have a chance to fight him for a few moves, but even so, the Tyrant Bishop would not be his opponent. If he really let the Seventh Progenitor Marquis Heretir completely control the battle situation, he could completely make the other side inferior on all fronts, and there wouldn't even be the Tyrant Bishop's only advantageous matchup.

It was too hopeless to rely on the Tyrant Bishop alone to open up the situation.

The gray-clothed professor didn't respond to Raschial.

"Okay, I understand."

He touched his mechanical headset and listened intently to Abigail's announcement of the battle situation.

"Are you really all relying on the Tyrant Bishop alone? I'm a little curious who is under that mask of yours."

Raschial sized up Professor Landry's face with some interest and asked.

Since Professor Landry would get involved with the Resurrection Church, it made this guy even more mysterious.

Maybe this "Landry Washington" was just his false identity.

The other party's absent-minded and arrogant appearance made Raschial feel that he was just the most playful mouse.

Lanqi temporarily hung up the headset.

He finally looked at the Third Progenitor Raschial.

"Raschial, why doesn't your True King want you anymore?"

Lanqi asked seriously.

Raschial's smiling face froze in an instant.

"What did you say?"

His voice trembled, and he said word by word.

Then, the veins on his forehead jumped and the unbelievable rage in his eyes.

End of chapter