Chapter 596
Kill Colin? Me?
Chapter 596 Kill Colin? Me?
The snowflakes continued to fall, but the hustle and bustle of the Royal Prison Square was quietly receding.
Led by Helen and Sherry, nearly two hundred night elf archers and mages quietly withdrew from the battlefield.
They were cloaked in the darkness and moved swiftly, like a sudden blizzard that began at nightfall and left just before dawn.
Soon, the snow erased their last footprints. In the days to come, only rumors circulating in the streets and alleys will likely remain, leaving only traces of these "mysterious guests" who once visited.
Thanos left even earlier.
The man, who was always shrouded in shadow, didn't even give his previously protected target a formal goodbye before quietly disappearing into the shadows beneath the ruins.
Only a single, light word drifted into Fayette's ears, carried by the wind and snow.
"From now on, you will have to walk your own path."
As one of the Demon King's most loyal shadows, Thanos is even more impressive than his master when it comes to showing off.
However, unlike the Demon King, whose purpose in showing off was clear—to create an air of mystery and add to the legendary status of his title—he was different.
As for Thanos, he just wanted to show off.
Marshal Fayet turned around abruptly, only to see an empty corner of the wall and a few snowflakes swirling down.
After a long while, he solemnly removed his hat in the direction where the sound had disappeared.
"Thank you."
There was no response in the wind and snow.
Lord Shadow has left completely.
It's as if they never came...
……
Just as the demon generals were leaving the field one after another, the "Chosen Ones of the Demon King," who were celebrating their victory in the square, also heard a warm notification sound in their ears.
[Limited-Time Event: The Great Revolution in Roland City Has Successfully Concluded!]
The settlement reward has been sent to your account.
The instance will close in one minute. Thank you for participating.
"Damn it—!"
A bloodcurdling scream, like a pig being slaughtered, suddenly shattered the atmosphere of parting. The Pig-Headed Knight was staggering out from the depths of the prison.
His appearance was quite unique, with his body covered in equipment salvaged from the battlefield. Among them were the wands of a school mage, the short sword of a gravedigger, and some oddly designed instruments of torture.
From a distance, the skeleton looks just like a scarecrow riddled with arrows.
"I picked up the equipment with my own skills, why can't I take it with me!"
Many newbies echoed his sentiments.
"Exactly! You damn game planner, have some decency!"
"That's outrageous! They didn't even take the loot!"
Looking at the idiot who was leading the shouting, the Minotaur Warrior rolled his eyes.
"Why are you acting like a newbie? It's common knowledge that you can't take anything from the expansion pack with you."
Hu Wan: +1
"What if this time is different?" the pig-headed knight said, still unwilling to give up, trying to change the dog planner's mind by raising his voice.
Unfortunately, the game planner probably didn't hear it.
"...There's no precedent for bringing your gear out of a limited-time expansion. I suggest you save your energy." One Autumn Leaf shrugged, stuck the wand he'd picked up into the ground, and quietly waited for the countdown to end the expansion.
Overall, he was quite satisfied with the event. He not only gained a lot of contribution points and event credits, but also had the opportunity to witness a duel between top-tier players!
Looking in the direction where the Demon King disappeared, scorching soul fire burned within his skull.
Although he is still far from being a demigod, he believes that one day he will be able to stand at the height that the Demon King once stood at!
The countdown numbers continue to tick relentlessly.
The square was not only filled with chaos and commotion, but also with profound farewells.
The skeleton soldier, nicknamed "One-Bite Cheese Pool," looked at the insurgent who had just fought alongside him and stretched out his bone-only right hand.
Clearly, his actions startled the other person.
But before the other guy could react, the chemistry guy patted the blood-stained shoulder without saying a word.
"Dude, I'm leaving."
His jaws clicked, and the green soul fire in his eye sockets flickered.
"If you miss me in the future, burn some ghost money for me."
The young rebel soldier stared blankly at the skull in front of him.
Unfortunately.
Because there was no translator for Crystal, he didn't hear the heartfelt farewell, only a series of teeth-grinding cracking sounds.
Then, he watched as the soul fire within the skull was extinguished with a "plop" in the raging wind, like a candle blown out by the wind.
As the soul fire dissipated, the skeleton soldier, who could still wield swords and slash, instantly crumbled into bones like a puppet with its strings cut.
Not just him—
The same scene was repeated on the streets outside the Royal Prison, with thousands of “Holy Spirit” legions stopping what they were doing at the same time.
The flames in their eyes went out simultaneously, and the weapons in their hands crashed to the ground.
These "immortal spirits" that terrified the tomb keepers passed away peacefully after completing their sacred mission.
That visually striking scene, surprisingly imbued with a touch of tragic grandeur, deeply moved all the onlookers.
Standing outside the royal prison, Battalion Commander Antoine removed his officer's hat and murmured to himself as he looked at the skeletons disappearing into the wind and snow.
"By the divine child..."
Perhaps they really are the Holy Spirit.
Antoine originally scoffed at the New Testament and the saint, just like most of the educated officers in Roland.
But now, he suddenly believes it...
The howling snow on the street seemed to have subsided a bit, and an officer covered in blood walked up to Marshal Fayet.
He glanced at the chaotic street, then at his suddenly departed "allies," a look of bewilderment in his eyes.
"Your Excellency Marshal, what... what do we do next?"
That confusion wasn't unique to him; it belonged to everyone standing here.
The National Assembly never said they wanted to behead the king; all they ever wanted was a charter. But now, things have changed far beyond their expectations. Theodore and Hagmer have both fallen, and the crown of the Devalo family has fallen to the ground.
Finding an heir from the descendants of the Devalo family wouldn't be difficult, but no one could control the current situation.
This uprising suddenly spiraled out of control at some unknown point.
Fayet took a deep breath, and the words left behind by the mysterious Shadow Lord before he left gradually surfaced in his mind—
"...If you do nothing, then the gods probably won't do anything either."
Perhaps he is right.
The path that mortals walk is ultimately their own to walk.
With this thought in mind, Fayet forcibly suppressed the hesitation in his heart and straightened his spine.
He walked up to his anxious subordinates, his gaze sweeping over every soldier and officer present, and gave his orders in a stern voice.
"Gentlemen, there is no time to hesitate. We must act immediately. Let the National Assembly take over the city hall, restore order to Roland City, and end the chaos in the city."
He paused, his eyes became incredibly firm, and his voice rose in pitch.
"Before the citizens lose faith in us, we must prove to our supporters that our parliament and charter are more trustworthy than the Devalo family!"
……
Above the outskirts of Roland City, the "Truth" had retracted the magic crystal cannon that was hanging below and climbed back into the clouds.
At the same time, a streak of light rippled through the air, and a tall, imposing figure suddenly appeared in the cockpit of the airship.
Sheren Tang opened her eyes in surprise.
Such speed!
What kind of magic is this?!
Before she could even react, a purple cannonball hurtled towards the victorious Demon King with lightning speed.
"Pigeon~ pigeon—!"
A sweet voice filled his ears, and Luo Yan almost instinctively reached out and pressed Vivian's head down.
"Brother, Vivian was so worried about you! Let me see if you're injured or bleeding! Kukuku, such a precious dish must not be wasted—Chirp, Vivian means you absolutely mustn't get infected!"
A ruby-like fervor seeped through her fingers, and her lovely face was completely ruined by her sickly expression and her motionless large hands.
However, Vivian was not a vampire who would give up easily. Her two restless little hands immediately seized the opportunity and headed straight for the Demon King's collar buttons—
Fortunately, the devil was one step ahead. The evil hand that tried to "inspect the body" was snatched away by a force "capable of pulling a six-car train" just an inch away from the collar.
Luo Yan didn't even raise his hand; he merely moved his mind slightly.
A transparent, massive hand, formed entirely of primal energy, appeared out of thin air and gripped the back of Vivian's collar, the symbol of her fate.
Then, that large, tangible hand lifted her up into the air, like picking up an overly clingy cat.
"Let me go!! I'm a doctor, let me examine you!"
Vivian flailed her legs in mid-air, like two white cat tails wagging wildly. Her tantrum and rolling around were a far cry from the majesty of a vampire princess.
"Anyway, calm down first."
The vampire knights of the "Hospital Knights of St. Colin" subtly shifted their gazes, some looking at the clouds outside the window, others exchanging non-existent military intelligence.
Their movements were very practiced, as if they had trained countless times.
Finally, Sherry awkwardly stepped forward and handed the Demon King a hot towel, trying to save face for her little master.
"My lord, please use it."
"Yes, thank you."
Luo Yan took the towel, slowly wiped his hands, then returned the towel to Xue Nite and walked alone to the map.
After staring at the map for a while, he gave the order.
"Change course! Destination southeast, northern Twilight Province."
Vivian, dangling in mid-air, froze for a moment, forgetting to struggle. She tilted her head, her ruby-like eyes filled with deep confusion.
"Huh? They're leaving already?"
Luo Yan sat in the high-backed chair belonging to the captain, took out a teacup from his spatial ring, and poured himself a cup of black tea.
"What else? Stay for dinner?"
“What I mean is, why don’t we just take advantage of this and take over Roland City? That National Assembly… it sounds so weak.” Vivian’s face was full of confusion.
In her view, as long as her elder brother stood there, the entire city of Roland would be in the Demon King's hands.
Apparently—
She had never seen the angels of Twilight City.
Even if the Principality of Colin in Hell has some secret weapons of its own, it is unlikely that it would let this immature "heir to the heir" know about them.
Seeing that Vivian had calmed down and was thinking, Luo Yan inserted a silver teaspoon into the teacup and stirred it gently, then relaxed his mind.
The pale blue energy hand instantly dissipated, and a gentle current of air carried Weiwei safely to the carpet, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt.
“Vivian, no seed can be harvested immediately after it is sown. Seeds planted in spring often do not bear fruit until autumn.”
The revolutionary fervor in Roland City is now higher than ever before; once the anger suppressed for a thousand years is ignited, it will not be easily extinguished.
The death of just one king is not enough to satisfy their appetite.
They will overthrow everything they can, and in this battle there will be no distinction between good and bad, only between friend and foe... and even the gods cannot stop it.
Let's let this fire burn for a while.
While letting it exhaust the remaining warmth of the old era, it also dries up people's excessive enthusiasm.
They will only begin to consider practical issues when they are exhausted and realize that they cannot build their utopia on the ruins.
Seeing Vivian's still somewhat confused expression, Luo Yan didn't explain much, but simply spoke in his usual gentle tone.
"You'll understand why I say this once we reach the Province of Twilight."
……
In the northern wilderness, wind and snow howled.
Just then, a dark blue light suddenly appeared, like a spark struggling on ice, tearing open the originally flat and continuous space.
The next second, a gaunt figure stumbled and rolled out, collapsing awkwardly onto a vast expanse of white snow.
"Oh shit……"
Aumon Sigode knelt on the snow and retched for a while before straightening up, his face pale, and hurried toward the mage tower not far away.
Long-distance warp travel is a form of torture for the spellcaster's soul and body, especially for the most powerful spellcaster.
Not to mention that he left in such a hurry that he didn't even have time to set precise coordinates before jumping in without thinking.
The increasingly intense backlash felt like his head was being clamped in a pair of pincers, spinning and twisting upwards. Fortunately, the dome barrier of the mage tower was almost within reach. The translucent light curtain emitted a faint, warm glow in the wind and snow, like a lighthouse in the night.
He cursed under his breath as he flicked his index finger, sending a blue arc of light through the snow curtain blocking his way, before hurriedly disappearing into the light barrier cast by the enchantment.
The snowstorm stopped abruptly behind him.
At the entrance to the Tower of the Soul School, several magic apprentices happened to be passing by and looked up to see their respected Soul Sage.
Everyone's face showed surprise.
The usually stern and unsmiling leader of the Soul School now staggered up the steps like a drunkard just thrown out of a tavern.
The newcomers were at a loss for what to do when a young apprentice reacted the fastest, immediately throwing his book into his companion's arms and rushing to help him up.
"Sage, what is this...?"
Before he could finish speaking, a harsh rebuke came crashing down on him.
"roll!"
Omon's face was deathly pale, and the multifaceted azure magic crystal embedded in his left eye socket spun rapidly, faster than ever before.
That ferocious expression made it look like he wanted to devour him.
The apprentice, pale-faced from being pushed away, stood there helplessly, not knowing what he had done wrong.
Fortunately, the Sage of Souls was too lazy to argue with an apprentice.
Upon entering the mage tower, he headed straight for the elevator, arriving at the top floor, where he then pushed open the laboratory door.
Upon seeing Lord Omon's return, the assistants hurriedly pushed back their chairs and stood up.
"Sit down! Get back to your work! And no one is allowed to come in without my permission!"
After throwing those words at his assistants who had stood up, Omon, with a gloomy face, pushed open the door to the deepest part of the laboratory and slammed it shut.
The assistants standing in the laboratory looked at each other in bewilderment.
They had never seen the Sage like this before; today was quite an eye-opener for them.
The office inside the laboratory was quiet, with only the hum of the magic circle thermostat.
Omon pulled open a hidden compartment, took out a deep blue potion from a crystal tube, uncorked it, and drank it all in one gulp.
The potion felt like strong liquor as it went down his throat, burning every inch of his flesh and blood, causing him to let out a low moan.
However, the effects of this potion were also immediate, and the pain of having one's soul squeezed into a meat patty was finally relieved somewhat.
Omon leaned against the control panel, closed his eyes, and gasped for breath.
However, as soon as he closed his eyes, the scene that had chilled his soul resurfaced in his mind, causing him to open his eyes as if electrocuted.
"Emperor Yan..."
His "Soul Analysis Technique" could easily see through the caster's weaknesses, but he couldn't fathom the depth of that guy's soul at all.
Do not--
Don't say you can't tell the difference.
He didn't even understand what it was.
That power is not something an ordinary person should possess.
Who exactly is that guy who calls himself "Flame King"?
Peak Grandmaster?
Or perhaps... a demigod?
In this world, only domains can defeat domains. And the Crimson Purgatory, personally set up by Hagmer, chosen by both gods, shattered like cheap porcelain before that guy.
He even suspected that the man had touched upon a power that mortals could never reach in their entire lives, a power that great sages pursued throughout their lives...
Omon took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
Fear doesn't solve problems; only data does.
He reached out and removed the ever-spinning azure crystal prosthetic eye from his left eye socket, gently placing it on a silver tray engraved with runes.
The prosthetic eye floated in the center of the tray, slowly rotating, with blue light flashing on every facet.
All the footage and data recorded during the battle are stored in this magic eye.
He needed to record and analyze the data collected during the battle as soon as possible.
Every living thing has weaknesses!
This is the creed of the Soul School.
However, just as he was concentrating on data extraction, footsteps suddenly came from outside the door.
Omon's brows furrowed sharply, and he angrily uttered a single sentence.
"Didn't I say? No one is allowed to—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
The office door hadn't even opened yet, but an immense pressure was already looming over him, silently pressing down on his shoulders.
This feeling, only one person in the entire Xuebang can give him.
Cold sweat instantly trickled down Omon's forehead. He quickly bent down, facing the office entrance, not daring to even breathe.
"Great, Great Sage..."
The door opened silently.
The visitor was none other than the highest leader of the school, the great sage Dolrich.
The venerable old magician was dressed in a simple gray robe, with his white braids hanging down his chest, looking as kind as an old neighbor.
But Omon knew that beneath this aged exterior lay a power powerful enough to turn the entire wasteland into a purgatory.
If we use a secular kingdom to describe Xuebang, this magical city-state standing on the snowfield, then Noruk is the uncrowned king of this snowfield.
perhaps--
Only that legendary emperor could rival him.
Omon was fortunate; the king, as always, was kind and did not hold the servant's rudeness against him.
"How is the situation in Roland City?" he asked in a casual tone.
Omon straightened up awkwardly.
The absence of his prosthetic eye made his empty left eye socket look somewhat frightening, but he couldn't care less about that in front of the Great Sage.
"...The plan has taken an unexpected turn." He carefully chose his words, his voice low. "That prince of the Empire has actually gotten involved with the forces of Hell. I highly suspect that the guy who calls himself 'Flame King' is actually a demon from Hell."
"reason?"
"His party includes a night elf who worships a demon god, and a half-human shadow demon."
Omon answered quickly, clearly having rehearsed this line repeatedly in his mind: "These guys are all from hell; they couldn't possibly be on the territory of the Kingdom of Ryan for no reason."
"That does sound interesting."
Dolph said slowly, without offering much comment.
However, Ormon knew that the calmer the Great Sage's tone, the more it revealed that his mood was not as peaceful as it appeared.
If you ask him why he knew so clearly, it's because he was in the presence of this great sage just as the apprentices outside were in the presence of him.
While others might need to suck on his spoon to taste the saltiness of the leftovers, Omon could guess the general flavor just by smelling his saliva.
He struck while the iron was hot.
"I suggest taking action as soon as possible to nip the threat in the bud before it escalates into bigger trouble."
The great sage nodded.
Omon was overjoyed, but his next words plunged him into an icy abyss.
"Then you can take care of this problem."
The laboratory was so quiet that only the buzzing of the prosthetic eye swirling and rotating could be heard.
At least three expressions flashed across Omon's face in an instant—shock, fear, and the frustration of wanting to refute but not daring to speak.
A bead of cold sweat trickled down his forehead, across his pale face. After a struggle, he managed to force a smile.
That smile was uglier than a cry.
"I……?"
“Of course.” Doryuk’s tone was as gentle as ever. “Do you have any questions?”
"No, I wouldn't dare... it's just..."
Omon stammered for a long time, but couldn't piece together the second half of the sentence.
Looking at the speechless Omon, Dolrich smiled kindly, seemingly pleased with his humility, or perhaps simply savoring the fear.
A moment ago, Omon was confident that he could guess the Great Sage's thoughts, but now he didn't even dare to guess anymore and just stood there trembling with fear.
“Clearly you’ve realized this as well,” the Great Sage said slowly, “this threat can no longer be called a threat in its cradle, can it?”
Omon lowered his head, not daring to respond to this nonsense, but couldn't help but grumble inwardly—who exactly released this threat?
Of course, he didn't seem to have the right to complain.
After all, when Prince Colin was at the Academy, no one expected that this imperial nobleman who came to "study" would immediately stand on the opposite side after leaving.
At the time, everyone thought it was just a passing breeze that would dissipate after it blew by. No one expected that what came was actually a tornado, and the kind that lingers like a ghost.
Perhaps, they should have recruited him into the Xuebang camp back then; Aumon still believes that there is nothing in this world that cannot be bought off.
It's too late to say anything now.
Dolphin didn't seem to be in a hurry to get an answer.
The 120-year-old mage walked around the laboratory with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the densely packed soul structure diagrams on the wall before finally settling on the floating, rotating azure prosthetic eye.
After a moment, he spoke again, his tone still gentle, but with a hint of chill that was hard to detect.
“I used to think he was our ally, or at least a variable that could be manipulated. But now it seems that's not the case. I could turn a blind eye to the friction in the Ten Thousand Ren Mountains, but what about Roland City…”
He paused, then said softly.
"He crossed the line."
Seeing that the Great Sage had finally taken the issue seriously, Omon quickly chimed in, "My lord, that's exactly what I mean! We've already given him the Ten Thousand Ren Mountains, and all we've gotten in return is his insatiable greed! That despicable prince is like an insatiable wolf, stirring up trouble and forming cliques everywhere. We must make him pay the price!"
"I think the same thing as you."
Doluk nodded, then changed the subject, "But on the surface we are all subjects of the Empire, so we still have to consider the attitude of the Holy City."
Omon opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Of course he knew that.
The Academy is nominally an affiliated institution of the Empire, receiving a substantial budget from the Empire each year in return for training a large number of magicians for the Empire.
Due to the special status of the Academy, the empire was destined to be vigilant against them while giving them important positions.
This red line has always been clear: the Academy must not intervene in the conflicts between secular kingdoms, and even less must it collude with Hell.
Actually, it's mainly the former, since hell is too far away from here.
Dolph closed his aging eyes, pondered for a moment, and then suddenly spoke.
"The Empire is keeping too close a watch on us. They may not care about the conflicts between kingdoms, but they definitely don't want to see us get involved. Since that's the case—"
He opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing in his cloudy pupils.
"Let the Kingdom of Rhodes do the work for us."
Although most of the young mages in the Academy look down on their homeland and find those brutes wielding greatswords to be vulgar, the exchange of interests between the Academy's leadership and the various kingdoms has never been a secret.
The Kingdom of Rhodes, in particular, as a natural neighbor of the Academy, is even more influenced by the Academy than the Kingdom of Ryan.
Moreover, the crisis erupting in the Kingdom of Ryan has transcended a mere title dispute; it is evolving into a situation where one class overthrows another.
In their own words, it was a revolution.
This would be intolerable to any secular monarch.
Omon nodded slightly, immediately understanding the great sage's meaning.
"I will contact the Duke of the North."
"Hmm." Dolrich nodded calmly. "You go there yourself."
Omon bowed again.
"As ordered!"
After giving the orders, Dolrich did not linger. He turned and walked towards the door, the hem of his gray robe brushing silently across the ground.
Just as Omon was about to breathe a sigh of relief as the pressure receded like a tide, he saw the hunched figure suddenly stop in front of the threshold.
Dolphin turned his head slightly to the side.
His wrinkled profile revealed no emotion, only his gray beard trembled slightly under the magic crystal light.
"Furthermore, I meant what I said earlier."
His voice remained gentle, but Omon's smile froze on his face.
"...The task of nipping this 'trouble' in the bud is now in your hands."
Before he finished speaking, the Great Sage had already disappeared outside the door, and the assistants in the laboratory hadn't even noticed that this important figure had been there.
The office fell silent again, with only the pale blue prosthetic eye spinning silently on the tray, its magical light scanning Omon's increasingly pale face in circles.
To strangle... Colin?
I?
(End of this chapter)