Chapter 591
Two gods choose together!
Chapter 591 Two gods choose together!
Let's go back to noon—
The midday bells of Saint Laurent Cathedral had just rung, and the sky over Roland City was still a gray expanse of falling snow.
The low-hanging dark clouds pressed down on the palace's spire, and also on the hearts of all the citizens of Roland.
The city garrison's camp gates were wide open, and the insurgents, carrying rifles and exhaling white mist, were pushing cannons toward the square in front of the palace.
The adjutant, Alarand, who was supposed to lead the cavalry to intercept the rebel artillery, did not set out from the side gate of the palace. Instead, he took fifty loyal confidants and circled around to the back gate of the palace.
The palace in Roland City is very large, like an inner city standing in the middle of the upper city, while the back gate stands in the most remote corner.
Because of the complex terrain, which is easy to defend and difficult to attack, neither the Royal Guard nor the rebels deployed many troops here.
On the street in the distance, there were only a few barricades, and the people keeping watch were just ordinary citizens.
The royal guard standing on the tower yawned, just about to stretch his stiff legs, when a club struck him on the back.
"Boom-"
The royal guards fell to the ground silently.
The other man frantically drew his rifle and was about to shout when a flash of sword light slashed his throat, and he fell into the snow with his eyes open.
The knight silently sheathed his sword, made the sign of the cross on his breastplate as a form of repentance, and then strode off to the next sentry post.
Alarand moved swiftly.
He himself was a platinum-level expert, and his subordinates were all silver-level experts, so they took over the back door without breaking a sweat.
Furthermore, the alarm bells did not ring.
Captain Robert of the Royal Guard was pinned to the ground by two knights, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at his former friend, letting out a beastly roar.
"Alarand! Are you insane? Those are a mob!"
He watched as a knight walked to the winch, turned the rope with all his might, and pulled the iron gate, which was firmly planted in the ground, upwards.
Not only were the royal guards who had been pinned down stunned, but the citizens outside the city gates were also stunned.
Some people closed their windows, while others rushed into the alley to deliver the astonishing news to their superiors.
The gate was fully opened.
Robert looked at the still silent Alarand, and squeezed out a curse through gritted teeth, trying to wake the idiot up.
"You shameful traitor! You have betrayed the king and your oath!"
"But I have not betrayed my kingdom, nor have I betrayed the people I protect."
Araland waved his hand expressionlessly, signaling his men to gag Robert with a rag.
He looked at his angry, struggling colleague, a flicker of pain in his eyes, but it was ultimately suppressed by an even more painful emotion.
He believed it was God's will—
This is the only way to save the Kingdom of Ryan.
"Let's face reality. Our crown has been rotten for a long time, and someone has to cut off that rotten flesh."
"If no one dares to bear this infamy, then I will."
With the last loyal guard disarmed and thrown into the warehouse, the vast army of rebels finally gathered at the back gate of the palace.
Faced with this sudden situation, they were clearly unprepared, and more than a dozen teams arrived in a short time, including some insurgents who had joined at the last minute.
This is not difficult to understand.
At first, no one thought the National Assembly could really win, and even after the stonemasons shouted the slogan "No charter, no bread," not everyone joined them.
Now, victory seems to be beyond doubt; this "rabble" has actually managed to take over the palace gates!
Whether they were insurgents who genuinely supported the National Assembly and the Charter, or opportunists who wanted to profit from the chaos, they all joined the ranks.
Ultimately, there is still too little time left for the "encyclopedists".
The scholars of Thunder City forged common knowledge into a thumbtack called the Encyclopedia, but most people in Roland City only learned about the imported word "republic" from the Encyclopedia.
The two things may seem to have the same result, but in reality, they are different in every way except for that seemingly obvious result.
The vast majority of people in this city still live in a hierarchical system of ruler and subject.
Even Alarand, who opened the palace gates, did not support the so-called charter. Instead, he hoped that the only sober one would awaken from his slumber and lead his lost people back to the right path.
He clearly hadn't seen the later parts of the script.
Coincidentally, the sage who instigated him to do this was someone he had seen many times in the virtual world...
The victory was fraught with bloodshed from the very first moment.
The rebels, who had been waiting for a long time, did not maintain the solemnity of the army and take over the defense as Alarand had expected. Instead, they showed their bewilderment at the power the moment they broke through the palace gates.
Countless citizens, carrying torches, rifles, and pitchforks, were like a pack of wild beasts that had been imprisoned for too long and finally broke free of their cages.
They pushed and shoved, shoving and burning the flames of revenge toward the palace that everyone could see with their own eyes.
At that moment, however, the magnificent golden hall was filled with a strong smell of alcohol.
Perhaps sensing his impending doom, or perhaps experiencing learned helplessness after playing all his cards, Theoden, sitting on the throne, got completely drunk.
Everyone spotted him immediately.
The cannibalistic king was slumped in his chair, holding a half-empty bottle of wine, while a maid knelt beside him, trembling.
Theodore was momentarily conscious when his eyes met the gazes of the crowd, and in that instant, he was so frightened that he slid off his throne and fell to the ground.
"Haghmer! Help me!"
He screamed in terror and tried to get up from the ground, but his legs were as weak as noodles.
Although he drank a large amount of "holy water" in pursuit of immortality, raising his soul level to an astonishing height, it did not bring him any substantial combat power.
Ultimately, what he lacked wasn't the level of his soul.
Now he's just an old man whose body has been drained by alcohol, clinging to life only by sucking the blood of young people.
When several rough, large hands pressed down on his shoulders and tied him up like a pig with thick hemp rope, Theodore finally realized that the guy he hated most but had to rely on had not appeared, and his fearful old face finally turned into despair.
"Haigmer! You traitor!"
"I knew you'd always been eyeing my throne! You've betrayed me after all!"
I curse you!
Desperate screams echoed throughout the hall.
Soon, a roar came from the side corridor.
"Release His Majesty! You filthy maggots!"
Military Minister Antoine Manda drew his sword and stared wide-eyed at the surging rebel army. He surprisingly showed a bit of courage and forgot his usual pampered life.
Even when faced with overwhelming rage, his index finger trembled uncontrollably.
He brandished his longsword and charged into the crowd, his superb swordsmanship allowing him to instantly cut down several of the leading rebels.
Blood splattered on his face as he, like a mad bull, tried to fight his way out to rescue his king.
however--
There were simply too many of them.
"boom!"
A piercing gunshot rang out.
Antoine was shot in the knee, cried out, and fell to his knees.
Immediately afterwards, countless pitchforks and daggers rained down, instantly riddling the military minister with holes, turning him into a bloody pulp that was swallowed up by the angry crowd.
The palace guards were still putting up a desperate resistance, but their efforts were futile against the endless crowd and their burning anger.
Theodore was roughly dragged out of the palace by the crowd, across the snow-covered gardens, and all the way to the execution square outside the palace.
There stood a massive guillotine, once his tool to intimidate rebels and execute dissidents, now his own end.
Faced with the shadow of death, Theodore descended into utter madness.
At times, he would weep and beg for mercy from the surrounding mob, promising them countless gold coins and titles. At other times, he would laugh maniacally, viciously cursing everyone's ancestors.
The citizens holding torches watched his disgraceful behavior with indifference. Some cursed him back without hesitation, while others showed expressions of regret. They never expected that a dynasty that had lasted for thousands of years in the epic would end so hastily.
The shrill roar gradually grew hoarse until he was pressed onto a wooden board covered in blood scabs, and a soft "click" of a buckle locked his neck.
The world seemed to fall silent for a moment.
The citizens stopped cursing and awaited the executioner's move. Theodden also stopped struggling, seemingly waiting as well, or perhaps simply craving the holy water.
For once, the madness on his face vanished, and a glimmer of clarity, like a dying ember, appeared in his cloudy pupils.
From beneath that guillotine, he saw the wronged souls who perished in the winter fire, the starving refugees of the Twilight Province, and the spirits of the dead downstream of the rushing river…
They didn't go anywhere; they stayed on this land the whole time.
Now, they've returned to claim our lives.
A bitter smile tugged at the corners of his wrinkled lips. He raised his old face, damp from the wind and snow, and looked up at the gray sky as if he had just realized something.
"Haigmer, my brother..."
This time, he finally refrained from cursing anyone. Instead, he used the last of his strength to shout at the sky.
“I retract my curse, I forgive you! And please forgive the one who killed me… May my blood quell Saint Sith’s wrath.”
That was the last message left to the kingdom by the last king of the Devalo dynasty.
Unfortunately, his repentance came too late, and no one believed the tears shed by the devil anymore.
Amid cheers from the crowd, the butcher in charge of the execution walked to the winch and pulled the lever without hesitation.
"Boom-"
The heavy axe blade whistled down, and a muffled thud as a head fell to the ground ended the suffering of Roland City and the mission of the Devalo dynasty.
"Roar--!!!"
The crowd in the square erupted in deafening cheers.
A citizen rushed onto the execution platform, and countless hands reached into the basket containing the head, which was then thrown into the air.
This moment will be forever etched in history.
At the beginning of the Second Era on the continent of Os, the shepherd chosen by the gods had his neck bitten off by an angry sheep for the first time.
Not far away at the palace gate, a woman in tattered clothes knelt on the ground.
She clutched tightly to the exquisite pastries she had snatched from the palace kitchen; although some had been stolen in the chaos, many remained.
Ignoring the dirt on the pastries and not bothering to straighten her torn collar, she stuffed them haphazardly into her mouth.
She wolfed down her food while wailing and sobbing.
"Finally... finally it's our turn to eat..."
From the flowerbed just a wall away came a woman's piercing scream.
A group of men with gleaming green eyes were leering as they dragged a pale-faced woman into the bushes and tore her dress to shreds.
Further away in a side hall of the palace, the arguing escalated into a brawl.
A bespectacled teacher suggested that the precious oil paintings should be protected, arguing that they were the wealth of the entire nation. Meanwhile, a bloodthirsty stonemason roared that they were proof of the nobility's corruption and must be burned to the ground.
"You've all gone mad! Do you really have to burn down the entire palace of Roland before you can create a better tomorrow for us?"
"I think you're the one who's crazy! Do you want to move the sacred National Assembly into the palace? Do I have to bring Theodore's crown and put it on your head?!"
Before the encyclopedists clashed with other factions, a rift had already clearly formed within the encyclopedists themselves.
Before they could reach a conclusion, someone in another corridor not far away had already set the curtains on fire with a torch.
Flames shot into the sky and quickly engulfed the entire corridor!
Some people fled with the stolen paintings, while others were busy salvaging the gold and jewels in the palace, or were executed as nobles for carrying too much stuff.
The fire has not yet fully burned, but the fire in people's hearts is already irrepressible.
Beside the back gate of the palace, Alarand was powerless to stop the current situation. Since the rebels stormed the palace, several city gates adjacent to the back gate had also fallen one after another, and the royal guards were being lynched by the citizens.
Robert seemed unable to accept this ending; he hanged himself in the warehouse, his eyes open as he died.
A young knight who originally belonged to the Lionheart Knights walked up to Alarand. He looked at the hellish scene before him, his face turning pale.
In his more than twenty years of life, this was the first time he had ever seen such a sight—
Two men stabbed each other to death with a dagger over a bowl with a gold rim. And as he tried to stop them, another similar incident occurred right before his eyes.
He thought that the ruins after the great fire in winter, and the orphans who sold themselves for money, were the limit of hell.
But now it seems that this is just the beginning.
"Sir..." The knight's voice trembled, filled with deep fear and confusion, "What...what should we do now?"
Alarand did not speak.
Like the soldiers, his gaze was also overwhelmed at this moment, and he could only catch a glimpse of the poor girl kneeling on the ground, swallowing her pastries.
Someone tried to snatch the pastries from her arms, but was stopped by his stern gaze.
Watching them wolf down their food, he felt both gratified and a touch of melancholy.
He couldn't imagine how many pieces of bread would still be left on the girl's chest once his gaze left her.
There are too many people here.
And even more people are flocking here.
"They've been hungry for too long, give them some time."
Alarand closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if trying to persuade the young knight, or perhaps trying to persuade himself.
As the girl lamented, the nobles had already devoured everything in the kingdom, and now it was finally their turn to eat.
Perhaps once they've had their fill of commotion, they'll calm down and think things through, just like when they calmly wrote that charter.
Although even now, Alarand still doesn't believe that the thing can save the Kingdom of Ryan, he is willing to believe that the citizens of Roland City still retain a sliver of reason.
After all, they were willing to risk being executed by the Royal Guard to spread the Encyclopedia, which recorded common sense and knowledge.
however--
These knights who worship the Holy Light have clearly been away from the earth for too long, forgetting that before becoming human, humans were also wild beasts of the forest. A wild beast released from its cage, having tasted blood, will never easily return to its cage, much less suddenly don human clothes.
This is certainly not the fault of the people locked in cages; it is undoubtedly the evil consequence of the Devalo family's accumulated misdeeds.
However, this is precisely the cruelty of reality.
Even though the fierce winds of karma spare no one, the raging flood will not end with the fall of one or two heads...
Even after ten thousand people die, ten thousand more will remain.
Everything has just begun.
……
On the city wall above the main gate of the royal palace, the Radiant Knight Hagmer gazed down at the plaza below.
The National Assembly rebels eventually brought over the cannons they had seized from the city garrison, but there was still no progress on his adjutant Alarand's end.
However, Hagmer was not worried.
As a demigod-level powerhouse, although he is still far from being a true god, he is by no means someone that a few mortal cannons can withstand.
Yeah.
He thought to himself.
If this makes the rebels realize that fighting their king is futile, perhaps they will give up...
The whispers from the depths of his being still lingered in his ears; the man seemed not to have given up, and was instead becoming more and more animated.
Hagmer sneered inwardly.
He had once thought that the corruption of chaos was something extraordinary, but after seeing it today, he realized it was nothing special, at most something to talk about.
A devout knight will never be swayed by a few whispered words.
However, Hagmer was unaware that the legend actually had a second half—
Chaos will not attack an impregnable castle.
He clearly smelled the stench of rotting corpses...
It wasn't just Chaos that smelled the stench of the rotting corpse; the rebels who were arranging their troops in the square also seemed to smell it.
Hagermer frowned slightly.
The insurgents, who had set up their cannons, did not launch an attack with the same fervor as yesterday, but instead fell into a strange stagnation—or even commotion.
Has internal strife finally broken out?
Hagmer frowned, wondering what the other party was up to. Just then, a pungent smell of burning wafted towards the south wall of the palace.
Hagermer whirled around, his pupils contracting in an instant.
Although the buildings obstructed his view of the entire palace, he could only see a towering spire. But right next to that spire, a wisp of black smoke was rising against the wind and snow... as if the palace had been set on fire!
He wasn't the only one to notice the palace's anomaly; the royal guards standing behind him, as well as the knights and squires of the Lionheart Order, also noticed it.
What's going on there?
"The fireplace caught fire?"
"Could it be the rebels' magic...?"
"Impossible. If the fire was ignited by supernatural power, there would be magical fluctuations. We would have sensed it immediately..."
Whispers rippled through the crowd, and a sense of unease was building.
Just then, a messenger, his face covered in blood, stumbled up the city wall, his voice filled with panic.
"Commander!"
"The palace...the palace has fallen! Our emperor was dragged out and beheaded by the rebels. It was the back door...the other way around was opened!"
The voice was incoherent, yet it was enough to piece together what had happened. Everyone stood there, stunned, unsure of what to do.
Theodore... is dead?
Hagmer felt a surge of blood rushing to his chest, grabbed the messenger by the collar, his expression more ferocious than ever before, and roared loudly.
"Who did this?!"
The messenger said, his voice trembling.
“Yes, it is your adjutant, Your Excellency Alarand…”
In an instant, all eyes were fixed on Hagmer, their eyes filled with astonishment and fear...
Hagmer, however, felt a sudden dizziness, and his eyes instantly turned bloodshot.
"Alarand!!!"
He let out a beastly roar, no longer caring about his brother's order to defend the palace to the death. He abandoned everyone present and transformed into a silver meteor, rushing towards the burning palace.
The road was littered with corpses, a scene resembling a living hell. But when he rushed into the majestic palace, the sight that greeted his eyes made him faint.
The bloodthirsty rebels are frantically trying to reclaim everything the nobles have taken from them, and soon everything here becomes legal robbery.
The stolen items were clearly not properly stored; priceless porcelain was smashed, and valuable oil paintings were first splattered with ink, then oil, and finally set on fire.
Several surrendered servants were pinned to the ground and had their throats slit, their blood staining the expensive carpet. In the corners, women's screams echoed, and even the women and children who were guests were not spared, nor were the nobles of the Kingdom of Rhodes and the Duchy of Campbell.
The National Assembly was clearly aware that the problem was getting serious, and if things continued like this, they would soon have nothing left, let alone the charter and bread.
Several militia members wearing "Encyclopedists" embroidered badges attempted to maintain order, but were tackled by their more radical comrades who mistook them for lackeys of the nobility.
Later on, common sense no longer mattered. A teacher was knocked down by a vase simply because he was wearing glasses, mistaking him for a king's servant.
Actually, it's not necessarily all the citizens who did it.
Only a very small number of royal guards and servants would hold out until the very last moment. Many people took off their uniforms the moment the palace gates were breached and mingled into the surging crowd.
Let alone superhumans—
Even if a god came, it wouldn't help.
Hagmer stood in the center of the hall, watching the horrific scenes unfold, his sword trembling.
"Stop right there!"
The lion's roar filled the entire palace, but no one listened to him.
The only few people who were stunned by his voice were actually the encyclopedists, and their remaining rationality was quickly overwhelmed by the frenzy of the crowd.
Hegermer no longer held back.
Just like when he quelled the rebellion in Twilight Province, his sword flashed, heads fell to the ground, and blood smeared the walls.
The Green Forest Army was no match for him, and these people were even less likely to be.
Yet, just as in the Twilight Province, his sword could cut off every disobedient head, but it could not sever the fear and hatred that stared at him, a hatred thicker than blood.
Sooner or later he will grow old like his brother.
Unless he can kill all the Ryans.
Just then, a staggering figure rushed in front of him. Hagmer almost lost his grip on his sword and chopped off the head as well.
That man was Alarand, his most loyal lieutenant, and the person he had been looking for, but forgot about him halfway through the search.
The whispers from the depths of his being tormented his already fragile spirit.
And now-
This blood-stained face became the last straw that broke his faith.
Looking at the ferocious-looking Hagmer, Alarand couldn't help but hold his breath, almost not recognizing his superior.
However, he still recognized that imposing face, and at that moment, a feeling of unspeakable guilt arose in his heart.
He only considered human rationality, but underestimated the madness of wild beasts.
He thought that as long as he satisfied the citizens' demands and handed the king over to them, the farce would end, but he never expected that the flames that rose into the sky would engulf everyone.
Clearly, there is no fire in this world that "only burns bad people and not good people." When good and bad are mixed together, only those who are more like wild beasts will survive.
"Commander..."
Overwhelmed with shame, he knelt on the ground with a thud, his hands trembling as he held up a crown stained with blood—
He snatched it back.
"Your Majesty...please put on the crown!"
Alarand's voice was filled with repentance and pleading as he bowed his head and said in a deep voice, "Only you can end this chaos! Lead us out of this gloom, and my family and I swear allegiance to you!"
Hagmer did not accept the crown.
He simply stared silently at his subordinates kneeling before him, and at their faces contorted by the flames.
The sounds around me became clearer and clearer.
'Look at them, these are the people you swore to protect. Can you see even a trace of holy light in them?'
The voice was mocking and sarcastic, as if it had expected what was about to happen.
'Tsk tsk tsk, utterly disgusting. What's the difference between them and the ogres outside Brass Pass? I thought you were different from us, but it turns out you're all the same.'
So, what exactly are you being so reserved about?
'Come into my arms, for I can at least bring you eternal liberation and end your suffering completely…'
Halfway through the conversation, the voice from the depths of the soul suddenly paused, as if it had discovered something unexpected.
'Hmm? Wait… there seems to be something else deep within your soul.'
Karmandes's whispers gradually took on a hint of surprise, which then turned into excitement, or rather, madness.
That rotten yet intoxicating fragrance reminded him of an old friend from the void. His name was Avano, the embodiment of all pride.
Two gods chosen together?
This is really... so interesting!
"Flame of Destruction" is not a proper evil spirit. If the Claw of Eternal Hunger still has a trace of rationality, then madness is engraved in its most primitive genes.
Seeing that Hagmer remained unresponsive, He gradually revealed the fangs hidden behind reason, letting out a gleeful, sinister laugh—
'...So you were already on our side all along.'
"Zheng—!"
A cold light flashed.
Alarand's hands, which were holding the crown, froze in mid-air, while his head flew into the sky.
On that churning face, the last trace of Alarand's repentance and a hint of barely perceptible relief remained.
That's fine too.
At least his suffering is over.
The rebels who stormed into the palace were stunned, as were the Lionheart Knights who had been following Hagmer.
Although Alarand deserved to die for betraying the royal family, they never expected that Hagmer would kill him with a single sword here!
Hagmer did not explain why he did it; he simply closed his eyes slowly, completely opening the door to the abyss within his heart.
In an instant—
The silver castle that stood in his sea of consciousness completely collapsed, replaced by a purgatory formed of mountains of corpses and seas of bones!
"boom--!"
A crimson beam of light shot into the sky from the royal palace without warning, instantly piercing the heavens and echoing the strange phenomenon in the direction of the royal prison in the distance.
The domain instantly covered the entire palace.
Time seemed to stand still.
All the thugs committing violence, the servants fleeing, and even the knights standing behind him—everyone's movements and expressions were frozen in time, like lifelike statues.
Then, in the next second.
Countless lines of blood appeared on their necks, and then their heads, like firecrackers shooting into the sky, were chopped off into the air by invisible swords.
"Pfft-"
The gushing blood splattered all over the palace.
Whether they were insane or in agony, all of them had their throats slit in an instant and fell silently into pools of blood.
Since the birth of extraordinary power on this land, there have been countless powerful individuals capable of defeating ten thousand men, but no one has ever killed ten thousand men with a single sword strike.
Heigmer was the first.
At the same time, he also became the only chosen one of the two gods on this land to wear the crown of arrogance and be bathed in the flames of destruction!
He swore—
He wanted to burn this fire to the Holy City, so that its inhabitants would also taste the bitterness of arrogance and destruction, and despair in endless flames.
As for the future—
We'll think about the future later.
The surging blood formed streams that flowed along the scorched floor toward the center of the hall, becoming part of the power of the "blood-red purgatory" along with the wailing, wronged souls!
On the other side, at the highest point of Roland City.
On the towering spire of the Saint Laurent Cathedral, an elderly gentleman in a simple gray robe stood facing the biting cold wind.
He held a floating, azure-blue magic crystal polyhedron in his hand.
It was a prosthetic eye recording data, connected to his empty eye socket by a beam of eerie blue soul light.
"What a poor lad."
Although he said this, there was no sympathy on Aumon Sgode's face, only the pleasure of fully savoring despair.
One of his eyes was fixed on the blood-red light shooting into the sky from the direction of the palace, while the other eye was fixed on the airship appearing on the horizon.
On one side are man-made gods, and on the other is a prince of the empire.
I wonder if that "Flame King" will appear.
His men seem to already be here.
"The show is finally about to begin."
Omon smiled with satisfaction, pressed the magic crystal prosthetic eye that was floating in his hand back into its socket with a soft click.
He must appreciate it with utmost care, just as he would appreciate the changes in a virtual world.
This time, we might be able to collect some incredible data...
(End of this chapter)