Early the next morning, a black eagle, carrying the snow of the far north, crashed through the stained-glass window of the eagle tower in the royal capital of the Holy White City.
One of its wings was frozen solid with ice, and it was already dead by the time it hit the floor, its talons still locked in a death spasm.
The tower keeper had initially assumed it was just a routine defense report submitted by the northern fortress.
But the moment he saw the red wax seal tied to the eagle's talon, his face turned pale.
It was an urgent dispatch.
An urgent black eagle dispatch sent from the direction of the Grey Dove Monastery.
The letter was delivered directly to the royal palace.
Half an hour later, the heavy doors of the palace council chamber slammed shut.
Three thousand royal guards, their armor clanking and spears drawn, cordoned off the surrounding hundred meters so tightly that not even a fly could slip through.
A thick crimson carpet stretched all the way from the entrance to the foot of the throne.
Whale oil crackled in the fireplaces on both sides, yet it failed to dispel the suffocating, icy silence in the hall.
Augustine Stuart.
This was the Hero King who had ruled the Holy White City for forty years.
He sat silently at the end of the long table, resting his forehead on his hand, while the ministers, their faces grim, lined both sides of the conference table.
Just fifteen minutes ago, Augustine had been personally signing off on a relief fund of food and money for the border towns.
But now, his left hand, resting on the desk, slowly clenched into a fist at the sudden dire news.
Two documents lay before him.
One was from the northern garrison.
The other was from the main city of the Holy Court.
On the secret report from the north, Vevran Develac of the White Owl Iron Guard had personally written:
The protective array surrounding the Grey Dove Monastery has been completely destroyed.
More than half of the Quiet Bone Prayer Room has collapsed.
The Mooncrown Lock is missing.
Only the tattered robes and ruined staff of the Silver-Robed Inquisitor were left behind; the inquisitor is presumed dead.
One of the three core storehouses was completely ransacked, with a large number of holy artifacts, potions, ores, and high-tier materials missing.
Additionally, Vevran had added an extra line at the end of the secret report.
【A suspicious Descender has been captured. She was involved in the escape of Herwin Hartmann and others from the Discipline Office. Upon initial inspection, the Mooncrown Lock, stolen goods, and high-tier holy artifacts were not found on her, but she holds a token of the Northern Witch Hunters and is highly likely to know some of the inside details. She is currently being temporarily detained.】
When Augustine read up to this point, his eyes turned cold for an instant.
But what truly made him sense a crisis was not Vevran's secret report.
It was the other document, a holy decree from the Holy Court.
That glaring brand of the Holy Court was like an invisible hand, choking the neck of secular royal power.
Only a single sentence was written upon it.
【Mobilize the entire nation's military to arrest the culprit at all costs and retrieve the Mooncrown Lock. Otherwise, the Holy Court will withdraw all protection from the royal capital of the Holy White City.】
The council chamber was deathly quiet.
Everyone present knew that behind this silence was a wildfire about to erupt.
The Holy Court's protection was not merely prayers in a church.
It was also the border purification arrays, the plague seals, and the holy radiance that illuminated the city walls when the undead tide came.
It was the reason why countless commoners believed that the kingdom was still watched over by the gods.
Once the Holy Court withdrew its protection, the order of the Holy White City's capital would collapse, starting with its faith.
In his youth, Augustine had personally slain the undead lords of the corrupted lands, led armies to reclaim three border cities, and had been called the “most merciful king under the holy radiance” by his people.
Yet he knew better than anyone.
Mercy was merely a show for the commoners.
Beneath the throne, there were never flowers and hymns.
The Minister of Rites and Laws was the first to speak: “Your Majesty, according to reports from the northern garrison, an unknown surge of power appeared in the direction of the snowfields last night, causing a massive number of deaths.”
The Minister of Military Affairs had a grim expression: “It is not just the north.”
He pulled another stack of urgent dispatches from his sleeve and placed them on the table.
“From last night to this morning, deaths have occurred in the Holy White City, the Blackstone underground trading district, and along various towns and trade routes.”
The Minister of Finance asked in confusion: “Could it be a rebellion?”
The Minister of Rites and Laws frowned: “If it were just a rebellion, we could still suppress it by locking down the streets and dispatching knights.”
Cold sweat dripped from the Minister of Military Affairs' forehead: “But that is exactly the problem. The list of the deceased has come out.”
“Thirteen people died inside the Holy White City. All of them were middlemen and aristocratic frontmen responsible for detaining foreign refugees, trafficking forbidden populations, and secretly supplying 'clean labor.'”
“Forty-seven people died in the Blackstone underground trading district, including three heads of large slave-trading chambers of commerce and a black-market merchant who selected materials for the Holy Court.”
“And these are only the reported numbers; many more minor figures were not even recorded.”
He stopped there, but everyone present understood perfectly well that this was likely a targeted revenge.
Indiscriminate slaughter could be dismissed as a calamity.
But precise revenge was a confession of guilt.
The Minister of Rites and Laws finally could not sit still any longer: “Your Majesty, the truth of this matter must absolutely not be leaked.”
The other ministers nodded in agreement.
The commoners worshipped the holy radiance daily; if they found out that the Holy Court and the nobility were conducting such businesses in the dark, their faith would shatter, and the kingdom would fall into chaos.
The Minister of Finance looked at him: “If we do not tell the truth, what do you plan to say?”
“A dark mage rebellion, or a foreign curse.” The Minister of Rites and Laws answered almost without hesitation. “As long as Your Majesty steps forward to reassure them and offers prayers for the deceased, the populace will quickly believe it.”
The Minister of Military Affairs could not help but let out a dry laugh: “Do you think the lords of the other city-states are blind?”
The Minister of Rites and Laws' face darkened: “What do you mean?”
The hall fell silent.
The Minister of Military Affairs continued: “Why is the Holy White City able to firmly hold its position as the primary power? I believe every minister here knows the reason.”
“It is because believers of the God of Holy Radiance are spread across the continent, and because we have the protection of the Holy Court.”
“Other factions dare not make a move because touching the Holy White City is equivalent to touching the Holy Court.”
“And touching the Holy Court is equivalent to challenging the God of Holy Radiance.”
As these words fell, the council chamber fell silent once more.
Everyone present understood that this was the true foundation of the Holy White City.
Over the years, the surrounding powers had submitted on the surface, but privately had their own calculations.
The Red Kite City-States wanted to seize the trade routes.
The Frost-Ridge Northern Alliance had never recognized the Holy Court's jurisdiction.
The Hearth-Mountain Dwarf Alliance only recognized minerals and their forge ancestors.
The Emerald Slumber Sylvan Court had withdrawn into the mist, ignoring worldly affairs.
Not to mention other factions, large and small, each pursuing different goals.
It was not that they did not want to compete.
It was simply that the power of faith of the Holy Court was too massive, so immense that everyone had to temporarily hide their fangs.
But last night was different.
The Grey Dove Monastery was destroyed, and the Mooncrown Lock was missing.
Countless vengeful spirits had crossed the city walls, borders, trade routes, and noble manors, precisely targeting those with unpaid blood debts.
This gave all factions an extremely dangerous illusion.
The protection of the Holy White City had been torn open; someone was challenging the existing stable order.
The Minister of Finance said hesitantly: “So they will not simply suspect dark mages?”
The Minister of Military Affairs said coldly: “Dark mages do not have the capability. But we cannot rule out one possibility...”
He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over everyone present before finally landing on the face of the Hero King, Augustine.
Augustine finally raised his eyes: “Go on.”
The Minister of Military Affairs' Adam's apple bobbed. After a long silence, he whispered:
“A Candidate for the Divine Seat.”
These five words were like a knife plunged directly into the center of the council chamber, instantly reducing everyone to a terrified silence.
The so-called Candidates for the Divine Seat were the starting point of all legends of Demigods.
Only those who had truly stepped onto the first tier would be called Demigod Candidates by the world.
When enough time had accumulated, the gaze of the Supreme Deity would descend, choosing a suitable divine successor from among the Demigod Candidates.
But as for how exactly one obtained this qualification, no one could say for sure.
Some said one needed enough believers, while others said one had to establish unshakable achievements in war.
Still others said one had to personally conquer the world and make everyone remember their name.
Yet these were all merely speculations.
For that door had never explained its opening conditions to mortals.
The recorded examples were few and far between, with the most recent case occurring a hundred years ago.
At that time, the various races of the continent were in a chaotic war, belief in the old gods had collapsed, and plagues and undead tides had nearly devoured half of the human domain.
Just when everyone thought the world would be completely torn apart, a Demigod Candidate appeared.
Using the Holy Light as his banner, he gathered the surviving city-states, suppressed the undead, drove out the corrupt armies, and established the original Holy Court upon the ruins.
Later, he disappeared, but the Holy Court remained.
Since then, humanity had viewed the Holy Court as the source of light, holding that Demigod Candidate's final teachings as their ultimate guide.
Over time, no one asked where that Demigod had actually gone.
Nor did anyone dare to ask whether everything the Holy Court did now was truly the will he had left behind back then.
However, not all races believed in the holy radiance; they bowed to the Holy Court on the surface, but secretly worshipped other old gods.
For everyone knew that once a new Demigod Candidate appeared...
In order to compete for the power of faith and allow the god they believed in to rule this world...
Or even to achieve illustrious deeds just to be seen by the Supreme Deity and become a new god...
This Demigod Candidate might seize the opportunity to spark a war to seek a new political status.
When that time came, war would spread across the entirety of Celantia like a plague.
As one of the highly anticipated Candidates for the Divine Seat, Augustine silently stared at the holy decree on the table.
He felt that the crisis before him was the greatest ladder to the heavens.
With the Grey Dove Monastery destroyed, the Holy Court needed someone to clean up the mess.
If he could step forward at this moment and suppress the situation...
The Holy Court would remember his loyalty.
The God of Holy Radiance would also see his achievements.
The world would only know that the Hero King of the Holy White City's capital had once again stepped forward when calamity descended.
After a while, he suddenly said: “All bodies of the deceased within the Holy White City from last night will be recovered by the royal Iron Vanguard. If the public asks, tell them the bodies are contaminated by dark magic and no public autopsy is allowed.”
The Minister of Military Affairs bowed his head: “Yes.”
Augustine continued: “The gates of the Holy White City will be relaxed on the outside but tightly secured on the inside. No rumors are to be leaked; thoroughly inspect all bards, merchant caravans, and messengers. Any news mentioning the Grey Dove Monastery, the Mooncrown Lock, or the remains of the holy beast will be treated as spreading heresy.”
The Minister of Finance hesitated for a moment: “Your Majesty, as for the Grey Dove Monastery...”
Augustine's tone carried not the slightest hesitation: “Rebuild it in secret.”
The council chamber fell silent for a moment as Augustine's gaze swept over the crowd.
“The Holy Court has lost an important stronghold, so the capital will rebuild a more secretive, sturdier, and cleaner stronghold on its behalf.”
“Deploy a trustworthy unit from the northern garrison to enter the ruins of the Grey Dove Monastery disguised as a road construction crew and a disaster relief team. Send all craftsmen, array masters, stonemasons, and apothecaries through covert channels.”
The Minister of Finance opened his mouth, but ultimately whispered:
“Your Majesty, the treasury is tight right now. The funds and resources...”
Augustine's gaze fell upon the unfinished document of border relief funds beside his hand. He said:
“Deduct it from the relief funds.”
Augustine waved his hand coldly. “As for labor, so many black-market merchants died in the Blackstone underground trading district last night, so it is currently in chaos.”
“Have the knights disguise themselves as bandits to confiscate their assets. As for the slaves, prisoners, and refugees there...”
“Pack them all into prisoner carriages and secretly transport them to the ruins of Grey Dove.”
“Those without identification papers were never on any registry anyway. I know the Holy Court's law of 'holy sacrifice' better than anyone.”
The Minister of Finance nodded and remained silent.
“Your Majesty,” the Minister of Military Affairs reminded in a low voice, “a vast number of holy artifacts and high-tier materials were stolen from the Grey Dove Monastery. The culprit must be carrying those holy artifacts and equipment. Should we send the royal secret guards to...”
“No, ordinary secret guards are no match for a monster capable of emptying the storehouse right under the nose of a Silver-Robed Inquisitor. Sending them would just be sending them to their deaths.”
Augustine narrowed his eyes as something suddenly occurred to him:
“Hasn't a batch of people from another world descended recently?”
The Minister of Military Affairs nodded: “Yes, a group of extremely greedy madmen who would dare pluck a god's beard as long as they are given quests and rewards.”
“But these people have extremely loose lips; the slightest rumor will spread all over the world. If we directly ask them to search for the holy artifacts...”
“When did this King ever say I would ask them to search for the holy artifacts?”
Augustine sneered, staring at the coordinates of the Grey Dove Monastery on the map.
“Openly placing a bounty on the holy artifacts would be telling all the scheming city-state leaders across the continent that a major branch of the great Holy Court has been invaded, wouldn't it?”
The Minister of Military Affairs' expression stiffened, and cold sweat instantly broke out. He did not dare to speak.
Augustine's fingertip tapped heavily on the official document:
“The excuse is already made.”
“We will say that there was a dark mage riot last night, leading to the accidental deaths of nobles and commoners in multiple areas.”
“They took advantage of the chaos to steal a batch of 'contaminated sacred relics' that the royal family obtained from clearing the Blackstone trading district.”
“To protect the citizens of the empire from being corrupted, the royal family has specially issued the highest-tier 'calamity eradication bounty'.”
The Minister of Military Affairs' eyes suddenly lit up, instantly grasping the Hero King's meaning.
Using the search for “contaminated sacred relics” as a cover-up not only perfectly concealed the truth of the stolen relics, but also pinned the blame for last night's deaths on those wicked cults.
Witches, warlocks, outlanders, dark magic...
These groups were already difficult to distinguish as good or evil, and their stances were unclear, making them the perfect scapegoats.
Augustine's voice grew even lower as he commanded the ministers present:
“Post notices on bulletin boards everywhere, issuing quests to those Descenders and the top heroes of the entire continent.”
“The bounty document must clearly state:”
“'The contaminated sacred relic has an extremely strong disguise. Anyone who detects anomalous holy magic fluctuations in any city-state, wilderness, or black market transaction, or discovers anyone using or possessing high-tier light-attribute items of unknown origin across tiers—will be deemed a co-conspirator of heresy.'”
“'Anyone who slays the heretic carrying the contamination source and brings back all their remaining items will be rewarded with ten thousand gold, and the royal treasury will be opened to allow them to choose a golden skill scroll.'”
As these words fell, the expressions of several ministers changed.
Ten thousand gold was already enough to drive mercenaries and heroes mad.
A golden skill scroll, however, would make them willing to turn the entire continent upside down.
The Minister of Military Affairs asked in a low voice: “Your Majesty, how should we handle that Descender captured in the north? Vevran mentioned in the secret report that this person was not carrying any stolen sacred relics, but is deeply entangled with the Northern Witch Hunters.”
Augustine pondered for a moment.
“Have Vevran continue to detain her.”
“A Descender who is connected to the Northern Witch Hunters and can also use a holy sword might be more useful than a dead person.”
Augustine said indifferently: “When necessary, make her a witness.”
“If she can identify the so-called 'sinner,' that would naturally be best.”
“If she cannot...”
He did not continue.
Outside the window, the castle bells suddenly began to chime.
Peal after peal, the sound traveled over the high walls, through the white stone streets, and into every church and noble manor.
The commoners stopped in their tracks, looking up toward the direction of the royal palace.
Countless white doves circled overhead as the bells rang, looking as harmonious and peaceful as always.
Inside the council chamber, Augustine stepped down from the throne and stopped before the massive silver cross emblem on the wall.
He raised his hand to press it against his chest, murmuring a prayer:
“May the holy radiance watch over us.”
Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating his profile.
His face remained majestic and benevolent, just like the Hero King favored by the gods in epics.
He swore in his heart that he would pass the trial and retrieve the Mooncrown Lock.
And he would once again prove to the God of Holy Radiance that he was the one most qualified to become a Demigod Candidate.
As for those heretics who dared to desecrate the holy radiance and shake the foundations of the kingdom—
He would rather let the flames of judgment burn through the entire continent than let a single one of them escape.
Rate on N.U.
