Chapter 237: The Darkest Hour in the Northern Continent

d and harmonious peal of bells.This is the mellow chime of the iconic Icterean Academy clock tower, striking nine times before falling silent, signifying that it is now nine o'clock in the morning.The...Chapter 238: The Darkest Hour of the Northern Continent

Early January, on the southern coast of the Protoss Empire in the northern continent. 【The most complete and comprehensive updated chapter, with the most timely error correction content repair. Due to caching reasons, it is recommended to browse the website with a browser】

Located in a region with a relatively warm coastline, snow is not a common weather occurrence.

Liloma City has always been a warm, lively city with the sea as its backdrop.

Because this city on the south coast is located far west of the southern border, quite removed from the main port cities of the Protosian Empire's south coast, and with vast forests behind it, requiring a journey of over a hundred kilometers to reach the nearest inland city, it is mostly a tourist destination.

Although it's not particularly wealthy, the scenery is beautiful.

The entire city is situated on a series of coastal islets connected by bridges, making the artistically designed bridges prominent features in Liloma City. They not only facilitate transportation but also offer excellent vantage points for ocean views.

However, this rare and bitterly cold winter saw storms sweep down from the northern capital all the way to their border cities.

A light snowfall arrived during the night.

The lighthouse beam flickered faintly in the thin veil of snow. The ships docked at the port were shrouded in a light dusting of white. Seabirds had ceased their chattering, seeking refuge inside ship cabins or the warm nooks of the lighthouse. Against the backdrop of falling snowflakes, the masts formed an ethereal silhouette against the distant lights.

Flakes of snow gently fell onto the city's cobblestone streets, melting into the snow that had already fallen.

The long road from the harbor to city hall was covered in snow, and the lights shone through the snow on the lampshades, making them soft and hazy.

After dark, there were fewer people on the road. Those who did appear were bundled up in thick coats and hats, hurrying past.

Their footsteps left watermarks on the ground, staining the newly fallen snow black.

These citizens don't seem to be afraid of the cold.

...but rather the recent harmonious yet eerie transformations of the Protoss Empire and the silver-clad priests who walk its streets openly.

In this dead of night, when even the moon seemed to be disappearing.

Not far from City Hall, within a mansion befitting of wealth and power.

A crimson tapestry hung on the wall, its intricate embroidery depicting scenes of war, trade, harmony, and prosperity, showcasing the history and grandeur of the Protoss Empire.

Two men sat serenely in the reception hall, on chairs crafted from moonwood and metal. They drank together across a table.

This is like a banquet that has never disappeared from the history of the Northern Continent, belonging to villains.

"Reverend of the Resurrection Church, I greet you on behalf of my Lord."

Dressed in fine robes custom-made for his corpulent frame, the man was clearly a nobleman of this city-state. He raised his goblet and drank it down in one gulp,

Lord Francis is truly out of touch, blind to the current state of the Empire.

The nobleman feigned a look of deep sorrow, shaking his head and sighing as if deeply concerned for the state of the world.

As for whom he thought should rule this city-state, his attitude toward the resurrected priests in front of him spoke volumes.

"Actually, I quite admire that lord."

A silver-armored Templar, adorned with a sapphire-hued arcane sigil around his neck and devoted to a malevolent deity, gently swirled his goblet, muttering to himself.

The holy mark on his chest was a precious blue [Rebirth of the Heavens - Overlord].

Members of the Resurrection Church who possess this level 【Resurrection Certificate】 are all high-ranking priests. The higher purple rare seal is almost exclusively used by bishops' direct subordinates or confidantes, not figures you would typically see in small border towns like ours.

The Pink Divine are the saints chosen by the bishop, even further beyond. Epic level is [Bishop's Testimony].

Under normal circumstances.

Members of the Resurgence Church will go to great lengths to hide their 【Resurgence Certificates】, only displaying them when they need to prove their identity to fellow members.

Almost no one who's gone crazy would directly turn it into a stamp and wear it openly.

However, now.

In the Protoss Empire, the Resurrection Church has been recognized as a legitimate religion.

And the Cardinal, who has long been notorious in the Northern Continent, feared and hated by all races, is now the Archbishop that the Protoss Empire needs to be revered by the people.

This upheaval, this complete reshuffling of the cards, was not a result of pressure from the Revivalist Church. The Revivalists did not have the power to coerce the Protosian Empire. This was a deliberate choice made by the Empire itself.

A few years ago, everyone would have thought the Empire had gone mad.

But this is the reality at this moment.

But that lord... Francis, the Viscount, he had a strong leaning towards the Goddess of Fate Church, and his attitude towards your Resurrection Church was quite clear, filled with apprehension, especially... he couldn't possibly believe in the doctrines of the Hegemonic Catholic Church.

The nobleman spoke, carefully sipping his red wine and eyeing the silver-armored cleric across from him.

"It seems...he's truly guilty then."

The Silver Knight Priest turned his head, watching the small fountain in the courtyard and muttering to himself thoughtfully.

The whole mansion is warm and inviting from the inside out, with the sound of flowing water creating a peaceful atmosphere that's completely different from the hustle and bustle of the city. Or perhaps they are the source of this pleasant ambiance all along.

"Indeed, so that you may preach more smoothly in this city and to prevent those with ill intentions from slandering your image, I believe the upper echelons of this city need a change."

The noble let out a satisfied smirk, draining the cup of wine in one gulp and wiping the red liquid from his lips with his cuff.

"Although our Resurrection Church is now recognized as the orthodox sect by the Protos Empire, we cannot openly violate imperial laws, or we will still be imprisoned as criminals."

The Silver Paladin seemed to ponder for a moment, then spoke slowly.

To attack the nobleman from a legitimate imperial family, that is to say Lord Francis of Leilon City, would be dangerous. Once the upper echelons of the Empire began investigating and uncovered his actions, he, as a high-ranking cleric of the Resurrection Church now, would also face capital punishment as an example to others.

"Did you know The lord's daughter has some ancestral demonic features, even though her parents are undoubtedly human. People with such demonic traits are still considered half-demons and have no right to inherit the territory. Once Sir Francis is gone, I will quickly make her part of my family, and then I will control this city-state. I guarantee that the aftermath of this will be swept under the rug, she has no chance of having the imperial capital people investigate Sir Francis's death."

The nobleman's lips curled into a smirk, his fleshy cheeks quivering. He was undoubtedly scheming something wicked.

It's called a wife or concubine, but in reality, that kind of thing only deserves to be his toy and slave.

"You real rascal!"

The Silver-Clad Cleric smiled as he raised his cup.

Although dealing with these nobles could leave him vulnerable, Quan was too afraid to provoke the priests of their tyrannical branch.

After all, they aren't anything good either.

If you truly angered the hegemon, this city-state would vanish from existence in an instant. Such nobles are but worms, fleeting creatures of insignificance.

"So, what do you think Lord Francis is currently at sea and is expected to return from the main port city in the east in a few days. I can provide you with his usual travel schedule."

The nobleman poured another half cup of wine for the priest, then turned to him and asked.

Before this, fornicating with the cult of resurrection like that, a sinful sect, was discovered to result in death penalty.

Now, the Cult of Rebirth has been moved out in the open. Within the Empire's borders, anyone who wants to commission them doesn't even need connections; they can be found publicly at any time. Even temples within cities like Liriom are under the control of the Cult of Rebirth.

However, everyone knows what businesses the Revival Church still operates.

The current Protoss Empire is in a turbulent gray period. If we don't seize the opportunity, once the empire completely transforms and stabilizes, there may never be such a good chance again.

Then I'll help you.

The silver-armored paladin clasped his hands behind him, leaning against the chair back. His armor creaked with every movement.

Lord Francis was indeed an obstacle, good riddance.

After all, it's reasonable for the weak to be killed by the strong. If Lord Francis would die with any regrets, he could only blame his own weakness.

"I'll go get a nautical chart showing the usual routes of Sir Francis, and arrange for boats to be ready for you and the priests. Then you can approach them without raising suspicion."

The nobleman stood up, swaying his belly and chuckled gleefully.

Imperial policy, the Revival Church, and the Northern Uprising are none of his concern.

The focus is only on what you would do if you gained power.

Wisdom is power, and power rules all that is before us. Few people can understand how sweet its taste is.

Power and justice once collude, even the black can be washed white, they are the axioms.

The current empire is absurd yet beautiful.

This is a feast for the wicked.

"I'll go with you."

The Silverarm Cleric also rose to his feet, as if this meal had already been fully enjoyed.

Of course, the noble family would welcome the invitation for the Silver-Armored Cleric to visit their manor.

They walked up the corridor and stairs, soon arriving at a spacious study on the third floor of the mansion, with a breathtaking view of the night city.

The calendar hanging on the wall, which had just been turned to a new year not long ago, is now 1798 in the solar calendar.

On the dark wooden desk, there were many official letters from the imperial capital piled up.

Most of the notices are related to remnants of the Cult of the Fate Goddess. If these fugitives are found in border cities, they need to be reported immediately to the provincial capital and then to the Imperial Army Headquarters.

It's ironic, in just two months, the once esteemed Destiny Goddess Church has been swept out of the Empire.

The nobleman drew open the drawer and, upon seeing the papers within, shook his head with a hint of irony.

This whole thing seems crazy, and many people don't understand it, but someone who understands the shifts in politics probably sees some clues.

The Protoss Empire needs the power of the Church's revival, and then it might have a reckoning with the nations to the northwest.

Although I don't know what exactly is happening inside the Empire, clearing out the troublesome Fate Goddess Church must have been done to pave the way for all of this.

However, these official letters.

There is a red warning sign that is very noticeable.

It has almost caught the attention of the Silver-Clad Priest since just now.

It can be seen that the surface is embossed with information about Lorien, the High Priest of the Southern Continent's Fate Goddess Church. It requires all port cities on the South Bank to be especially wary of this individual.

Although there is turmoil within the Church of the Goddess of Fate on the Northern Continent, it is possible that this will prompt the Church of the Goddess of Fate on the Southern Continent to send aid to the North.

But the possibility is extremely low.

The Great Oracle Lauren is unlikely to abandon protection of her own homeland and come all the way to the North Continent herself.

Patriarch Ivan was bad enough.

While the Saintesses of the Goddess of Fate in the northwestern kingdom of Eth'erlan had no threats from southern lands pushing deep into the Protosian Empire.

"The Empire is truly remarkably cautious."

The Silver Armor Priest picked up the notice and sighed.

About Lauren's letter of recommendation, the first sentence reads:

If you discover the holder of 【Primal Slate - Wind】, please report it to the Imperial Headquarters immediately.

Below the official letter, there are also images of the slate for "Primal Slate - Wind" and an example of the unique glow triggered by "Primal Slate - Wind" after a bearer casts wind magic.

Since powerful figures like Loren often employ masterful disguises when traveling, it's highly unlikely that he would be detected even if he infiltrated your midst.

But he has a weakness, once he uses his most skilled wind magic, the phantasm produced by the [Original Slate - Wind] will directly strike the soul and be impossible to imitate, extremely conspicuous.

Therefore, it's better to recognize a stone tablet than a person.

If anyone possesses the 【Primal Slate - Wind】, it must be Loren.

"Well, well, although I've heard that the High Priest Loren is a noble man and unlikely to resort to underhanded tactics, the Empire always treats powerful individuals with extreme caution. What if he really dares to gamble and ignores the sovereign nations of the Southern Continent, secretly infiltrating the Imperial interior..."

The nobleman chimed in.

"It's true that the Empire doesn't understand Lorens well enough."

The silver-armored cleric put down the red official notice and shook his head.

Even if he were to come, he would openly support the Aestherlan Kingdom and wouldn't sneak into the Imperial Inner Circle to cause trouble. He wouldn't dare to go to the capital to stir up trouble.

Unless he went insane and released all the great demons imprisoned in the Imperial Prison for centuries, there was little chance of truly disrupting the Protoss Empire.

The nobles, full of jesting flattery as they followed the silver-armored priest's words, seemed to be enjoying this topic immensely.

Upon hearing this, the silver-armored cleric actually frowned and pondered seriously for a moment.

I have to say, this nobleman has quite the villainous mind.

Unfortunately, the eight-ranked demons, lacking a leader, have no cohesion and are not as much of a threat as imagined.

The Silver-Armored Priest laughed heartily.

The nobleman's jest finally amused him.

"Dare you go to that prison Go throw yourself in the net!"

Even the nobleman laughed cruelly.

The Goddess of Destiny cult is now defined as a cult in the Protoss Empire.

Loren, this cult leader, if he dares to come, will not escape the Empire's judgment and will absolutely be sent to that prison!

(The End)

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