Lanqi Listens Closely to the Wailing of the Blood Clan

"Phew. As long as you're all right." Talia breathed a partial sigh of relief. After accepting Undying Eternal Punishment, Lanqi had not suffered any of the expected inhuman agony. In fact, he appeared utterly relaxed, as if no price had been paid at all. Yet that was precisely what kept Talia from resting easy. When something was borrowed, it only meant the day of repayment had not yet arrived. "Let's check the options first." Lanqi urged Talia not to overthink it. He was fine, and if they wanted to reach a perfect ending, this choice had been necessary. This time, the options were all place names. Because it was clear that Lankeluosi would not sit idly by, he was bound to go somewhere. Choosing Option A, the Demon King's Castle in Naicalis, would likely mean seeking out the Lord of Blasphemy, Melogas, to launch a joint attack against the Horning Empire. Choosing Option B, the Horning capital of St. Trick, would probably skip straight to raiding Blood Moon City, the Blood Clan's stronghold. Option C, Hansabeck, was the Horning imperial province where most of the investigations took place during the previous simulation. "First, eliminate going to the Lord of Blasphemy, Melogas. Bringing a crowd of great demons to sweep through Blood Moon City might be safer, but truthfully, time is limited. Since I've already placed Undying Eternal Punishment on myself, there's no need to waste time turning back to the Demon King's Castle and mobilizing great demons to help." Through this simulation, Lanqi also understood why going to the Demon King's Castle was an option. It was actually an alternative to casting Undying Eternal Punishment on oneself. If Lankeluosi did not place Undying Eternal Punishment on his own body, he could likewise summon a host of great demons, gathering the strongest available combat force for a full-scale assault on Blood Moon City. Yet doing so did not guarantee victory. Even if they succeeded, many great demons would inevitably perish in Blood Moon City. If they failed, the very foundations of the Demon Realm would be shaken, potentially leading to its destruction. For Lankeluosi, Caliera's kindness could never be repaid. If he could gamble his own life, he would not stake the Demon Realm's national destiny and the lives of the great demons on a desperate gamble against the Blood Clan. Therefore, he would go to Blood Moon City alone to settle things once and for all. "Since your condition won't deteriorate anymore and we have over five days, there seems to be no rush to go straight to St. Trick and dive into Blood Moon City. Instead, could we first visit Hansabeck Province and continue the investigation left unfinished before?" Talia suggested. She always felt that what Caliera saw before her death might not have been limited to what Lanqi had observed in the last simulation. If Caliera had run the simulation herself, knowing she could not overcome Blood Moon City, she certainly would have chosen a conservative strategy to gather more intelligence rather than launching a surprise raid. Thus, even if Caliera had only simulated it once, she might have seen far more information than Lanqi currently possessed. In his previous simulation, Lanqi had ultimately chosen to march directly upon Blood Moon City, skipping many sights and clues that could have been uncovered in Hansabeck Province. "Sounds good." Agreeing with Talia's reasoning, Lanqi selected Hansabeck Province. The world before his eyes blurred and shifted. He transformed into a streak of shadow, hurtling southward. The surrounding scenery flew backward at breakneck speed. He lost track of time as day turned to night and back to day again. He crossed the Demon Realm, the Land of Eternal Night, and the Holy Polant Theocracy, covering tens of thousands of kilometers until the towering fortress-city on the southern border of the Theocracy entered his field of vision. Orderly streets and ancient, imposing architecture spread out before him. [You pass through the southernmost point of the Holy Polant Theocracy, the Iron Fortress of Oberon. Here, preparations are underway alongside the Horning Empire's border city to celebrate the fourth anniversary of the peaceful restoration of the Land of Sevilla.] [Continuing southward, you enter the Horning Empire's northern province of Hellsrhein.] [On the post-war border of the Horning Empire, chilly winter sunlight spills across the snow-draped provincial capital. Greenhouses, vibrant green fruits and vegetables, children running and playing, bustling markets and guild plazas—to your eyes, the peaceful joy of the winter festival is entirely illusory.] [You gaze upon it now with utter indifference.] This time, his silent journey through the Horning Empire lasted especially long. He swept past countless cities, mountains, and rivers. By the time his vision slowed, the sun was setting. As far as the eye could see, soaring peaks pierced the clouds with towering, sheer cliffs. Mist curled through the valleys beneath howling winds, and a dark gray castle stood proudly atop the highest summit. [Recognizing the landmark of Lichtens Castle, you know you have successfully reached Hansabeck Province in north-central Horning Empire.] [You have given up on catching one last glimpse of your hometown, the small town of Brunswick, for you have far more important matters to attend to.] In the blink of an eye, he passed the pleasant town of Rielm and the historic city of Solen. [Drawing upon the experience of your previous dream, you arrive at Viock City to the south.] [This time, your ultimate objective remains Blood Moon City, but along the way, you resolve to investigate information concerning the demonkin.] [Throughout your journey, you still cannot put that mother and son out of your mind.] [Perhaps you might be able to save them one step sooner.] Night fell. The blood moon hung high, its cold light blanketing the ground like silk. Carrying his suitcase, Lanqi slipped past the city patrol knights and made his way deep into the dense woods on the outskirts. [You advance, passing through a thick forest in the southeastern outskirts of the city.] Suddenly. A strange, foul stench drifted over—the scent of raw flesh left behind after a beast's meal. [You look around, your gaze falling upon a nearby thicket.] [You approach the thicket without making a sound.] [The chill wind bites, and the shadows of the trees sway.] [A red glow appears in the darkness.] [The figures of the two demonkin, large and small, are twisted and deformed—half-human, half-beast. Huddled close together, they let out piercing shrieks mingled with giggles.] [Perhaps just yesterday, they were living a normal life in this city. A mother who had painstakingly raised her child; though poor, their future held promise. The child would grow up, work, earn a living, and improve their circumstances.] [Yet it all happened too fast. A cruel catastrophe tore their lives to shreds.] [Tragically, they are beyond saving.] The next instant, Lanqi pressed his lips tight and turned his head away. He pointed a finger, and brilliant flames erupted from the forest floor. Tongues of fire licked upward, and ashes drifted away. Only dead silence remained in the hollow. Everything returned to calm. "Lanqi, if there has to be a third simulation, let's not come here next time." Talia understood that each time Lanqi came here and saw this demonkin mother and son—unable to save them and forced to lay them to rest with his own hands—it was a recurring torment for him. "If only we could have been just a little earlier..." Lanqi bit his lip. "You know very well there was little hope. They were probably turned into demonkin a day ago, or even earlier. Arriving a few minutes or a few hours sooner wasn't going to change that reality," Talia consoled him. According to the intelligence they had previously gathered in Solen City, rumors of demonkin in Viock City had surfaced about two days earlier. Even if this simulation was roughly a day earlier than the last, there had been virtually no chance of preventing what had already occurred. "Yet the description of the demonkin in the rumors doesn't match this mother and son," Lanqi said with a frown. One could not rule out the possibility that other demonkin had appeared before them. If so, arriving today might have saved them. [Though unwilling, you must accept reality.] The surrounding thickets began to twist, and text from the Mirror of Tiberius appeared on the trunks of the large trees. [Next, you will choose to:] [A. Slay demons along the way] [B. Head straight for the capital] [C. Continue investigating] [D. Intervene personally] [Fate remaining: 3 days, 22 hours, 16 minutes] "We still have plenty of time, and your condition won't deteriorate anymore. We should have another round to gather information before heading to the capital, so let's pick the third option and continue investigating, shall we?" Talia proposed. In the previous simulation, to achieve peace of mind and ensure they could reach Blood Moon City to confront the Blood Clan and uncover the truth, they had chosen to head straight for the capital. This time was different. They already possessed the intelligence to be gained from the final battle in Blood Moon City; by comparison, the demonkin matter still held lingering mysteries. "I think even if we continue investigating, we likely won't find the underlying cause. If incidents of civilians being transformed into demonkin are happening everywhere, yet in every location it's like a stone dropping into a deep pool without making a ripple, it proves that all the information you see is merely what someone wants you to see." Lanqi shifted his gaze upward. He fixed it upon the option to slay demons along the way. "You mean... the residents turned into demonkin likely had their records erased in advance, and a power behind the scenes is manipulating the rules of the game?" Talia began to understand Lanqi's line of thought. "Exactly. Staying here to investigate only increases the chances of exposing ourselves. On the contrary, if we simply slay demons as we travel, the truth will come looking for us. Those figures will never sit by and ignore a wildcard like us," Lanqi answered with certainty. "If the people trying to deal with us come to kill us, the truth will naturally reveal itself. As long as we don't die, we're guaranteed to see it." Talia understood now. Normally, this would be a gambler's mindset. But Lanqi was currently invincible; no matter how formidable an assassin the enemy sent, they could never kill him. Thus, the gamble was a guaranteed win. With that, Lanqi selected the first option. Slay demons along the way. [You begin heading south again, taking action to eliminate any demonkin whenever you hear word of them along the journey.] [The reputation of 'Demon Hunter Randall' spreads rapidly.] [You ought to have become a celebrated chivalric hero praised by the people.] [Yet the unexpected occurs.] South-central Horning Empire, Talberg Province, Salzburg City. Thick fog crept across the cobblestone streets, blanketing the ancient city like a heavy carpet. The damp air carried a musty smell mingled with the faint aroma wafting from a distant bakery. A man clad in a brown cloak emerged from the fog, his leather boots making no sound on the flagstones, like a phantom that never disturbed the morning quiet. The man appeared to be a traveling merchant, carrying a suitcase. He walked slowly to the center of the square and stopped before an enormous bounty poster. The dim yellow glow of a streetlamp illuminated the poster, which was inscribed in striking black ink: "WANTED: Randall Leonhart" "Notice is hereby given that a dangerous individual styling himself a 'Demon Hunter' is rampaging through the central provinces of the Empire, creating demonkin, slaughtering innocents, and committing unconscionable atrocities. Randall Leonhart, male, 29 years of age, approximately 6 feet tall, robust build, brown hair, green eyes." "Reports state this individual is skilled in bewildering minds and possesses formidable magical power. Anyone with relevant clues must immediately report to the local garrison. Take heed: this individual is extremely dangerous; do not act rashly under any circumstances!" "By Order," "Governor of Talberg Province: Conrad Hoffman" "Imperial Calendar December 28, Year 614" Disguised as a merchant, Lanqi stared at the bounty poster, his brows furrowed. He looked around. The square was deserted, with only fog swirling beneath the streetlamps. A cool breeze swept past, rustling the fallen leaves on the ground. Taking a deep breath, he turned and departed, his cloak billowing behind him as he vanished into the dense fog. [You helped local residents hunt demonkin, only to immediately face an ever-widening bounty, with provincial authorities claiming that you are the one creating them.] [At last, you are certain of the Horning Empire's current state.] "You're clearly the demon hunter, so how did you become the mastermind creating them by the very next day?" Talia said in indignation. "It just goes to show that the Horning Empire is corrupt from the capital down to every single province," Lanqi replied, as if he had long anticipated this worst-case scenario. [The Horning Empire's government is not actively addressing the demonkin calamity; on the contrary, they are its true architects.] If anyone noticed anything amiss about the demonkin, only two outcomes awaited them: the weaker ones were directly transformed into demonkin, while the stronger ones were framed as the culprits responsible for creating them. After all, wherever someone hunted demonkin, demonkin were always present in that vicinity. It hardly looked like a coincidence, making it easy to convince the public of their involvement. With the Blood Clan controlling the Horning Empire's government and press, turning white into black and black into white was child's play. The perspective cleared from the mist. The merchant arrived at an inn in Salzburg City called the Golden Ram Horn. It was a three-story timber building with dark brown exterior walls and a rusted sign hanging above the entrance depicting a golden ram's horn. He pushed open the heavy oak door and entered the dim lobby. The innkeeper looked up from behind the counter, eyeing this guest with suspicion. The merchant produced several Horning silver coins, placed them on the counter, and requested a room on the top floor. The innkeeper squinted, counted the silver coins, and then took a brass key from the board behind him and handed it over. The merchant ascended the creaking wooden stairs to the room at the end of the top-floor corridor. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside quickly and shut it behind him. Walking over to the window, he drew the heavy, dark-green curtains, instantly plunging the room into gloom. The merchant lit the oil lamp on the desk, its warm yellow glow illuminating a corner of the room. He took off his cloak, hung it on the coat rack, and set his suitcase down on the desk. "Hunting demons along the way still yielded quite a few samples of demonkin tissue." He opened the suitcase to reveal more than a dozen glass jars and vials neatly arranged inside, each containing different tissue samples—some resembling internal organs, others skin or muscle tissue. He retrieved a glass jar containing an eyeball from the suitcase and held it up to the lamplight for careful examination. This eyeball was considerably larger than an ordinary human eye, its iris displaying an eerie purple hue with a vertical, snake-like pupil. Frowning, the merchant returned the eyeball to its jar and picked up a vial filled with gray tissue. He threw himself entirely into studying these demonkin tissues, using a magnifying glass to inspect them and tweezers and a scalpel to carefully separate the different samples, recording his findings in a notebook. Occasionally, he would pause, dip a quill into the liquid inside a vial, and sketch intricate runes and diagrams on a sheet of parchment. [Studying the demonkin remains, you discover no surgical scars resembling those from the Horning Empire's experimental grounds back then. Instead, it seems as though they were easily transformed into demonkin as if infected by an invisible poison.] [You cannot determine the underlying principle behind the transformation. It may be a newly refined technique—one that even you, a survivor who personally underwent modification in the Horning Empire's testing grounds, cannot decipher.] [No matter which town you visit, you cannot detect the demonkin concealed among humanity; you cannot tell the difference at all, as though they were all demonkin—yet you know that is clearly impossible.] "Unfortunately, I'm not very skilled in this area, and Lankeluosi's brief few decades didn't leave much time to study such matters either." Lanqi couldn't make heads or tails of it. "I can't tell what's going on either," Talia said, observing through Lanqi's perspective. Although Lanqi called her a genius of the Demon Realm, specialization mattered. She had never dabbled much in forbidden demonic modification experiments; Antanas, who had once served as a doctor in the Demon Realm, and Pranay the scholar would likely know far more about this than she did. "Perhaps only the demons in the current Demon Realm who obsess over forbidden modification magic could figure out the clues," Talia sighed. Yet there was no time to bring demonkin corpses back to the Demon Realm. The Horning Empire lay at the continent's southernmost tip while the Demon Realm was in the far north. Even at Tier 9, the little time remaining could not be spent on such a round trip. "Actually, there's no need to think about taking them all the way back to the Demon Realm. First, there's no time, and second, we can simply ask when we reach St. Trick." Lanqi was not disappointed by the investigation's outcome. New text from the Mirror of Tiberius floated above the glass vials within his sight. [Though you have made some gains, your intelligence gathering has reached an impasse, even as you draw ever closer to the southern capital of St. Trick.] [Next, you will choose to:] [A. Attack the governor] [B. Head straight for the capital] [C. Continue investigating] [D. Intervene personally] [Fate remaining: 2 days, 19 hours, 55 minutes] "Lanqi, want to just wipe out the Talberg governor's mansion?" Talia asked, eager to try. A Tier 9 Holy Polant Pope could do whatever he pleased. This was a degree of freedom she had never experienced before. "We could, but with only two days and change left, this might be the second-to-last choice of this simulation. Let's go straight to St. Trick." Lanqi did not want to cause too large a disturbance in southern Talberg Province and alert the Blood Clan in the capital, St. Trick. That was why 'Randall the Traveling Merchant' had maintained a relatively low profile over the past two days, displaying no strength beyond Tier 6. "Let's roll!" Talia could hardly wait to go to Blood Moon City. When Lanqi lightly touched the demonic script on the glass bottle, the sky flickered between light and dark. Once again, Lanqi felt the sudden shift of his surroundings as he flew southward for an extended period. Until a day and night had passed. He arrived at the southernmost capital of the Horning Empire, St. Trick. In the faint morning light, the entire capital of St. Trick unfolded like an exquisite painting. Looking down from on high, the winding Rhine River resembled a gleaming ribbon dividing the city in two, the morning sun's reflection dazzling upon the water's surface. Along the riverbank, St. Trick Cathedral, which Lankeluosi had seen in his dream, stood solemn in the morning light. Nearby, in Horning Imperial Plaza, early risers were already strolling and chatting, savoring the tranquil morning hours. On the southern bank, the iconic Moonlight Tower pierced the sky, its observation deck at the summit appearing breathtakingly magnificent in the rising sun, its structure bathed in a golden sheen. [Upon reaching the capital of St. Trick, you arrive at the human territory on the northern bank, while the southern bank is your ultimate destination.] [You do not rush to the southern bank, but instead locate the street on the northern bank from your previous visit.] [Here, you have already detected a spatial node leading to Blood Moon City.] [You wait for the Blood Clan to discover you, reenacting everything from the previous loop as you interview the residents of St. Trick on the street, asking the exact same questions.] "The Blood Clan has always protected us. What's there to fear about demonkin? Haha," a pedestrian answered. [When you bring up the demonkin, the citizen answers you with such enthusiasm and warmth.] ["Do you truly view the Blood Clan that way?"] [You continue asking with complete calm.] "Those damned people from the Holy Polant Theocracy always love to slander the Blood Clan, but would we ever believe them? It's the Theocracy harming us, while the Blood Clan protects us." "The Blood Clan should have driven the demons out of this world long ago. Those treacherous demons who violated the North-South Treaty—how could the demonkin have nothing to do with the Demon Realm?" [Listening to these Horning imperial citizens' words.] [This time, you smile with relief.] [The sight of them ready to be turned into living blood bags for the Blood Clan at any moment remains fresh in your memory.] The text of the Mirror of Tiberius continued, crawling across the clothing of these pedestrians in St. Trick to form densely packed rings of demonic script: [Next, you will choose to:] [A. Wanton destruction] [B. Raid the Blood Realm] [C. Infiltrate and investigate] [D. Intervene personally] [Fate remaining: 1 day, 13 hours, 49 minutes] "This should be the final choice," Talia guessed that this run of the simulation was nearing its conclusion. Yet unlike the dead end of the previous run, they now possessed both intelligence and power. "I'll do it myself." Lanqi felt that having this maxed-out character without taking it for a spin would be doing a disservice to the suffering he had endured at the end of the last simulation. "Ooh, I want to play too," Talia pleaded pitifully. Yet she knew that she could not currently take control of Lanqi's body. She could only watch him in action. "Once I train up to Tier 9 in the real world, I'll let you play," Lanqi said, relenting slightly. "Alright, it's a deal! You truly are Master's good disciple." Talia remained confident in Lanqi. Even if reaching unconventional ranks like Tier 8 or Tier 9 might not be a matter of his own story alone, she had always been patient and believed in the sheer power of a Tier 9 Lanqi. For the first time, Lanqi selected 'Intervene personally.' Immediately, everything slowed down. As if awakening from a dream, he regained full control over his actions, standing in the city of St. Trick with vivid reality. He looked down to find himself dressed in a casual vest, standing on the pedestrian plaza of a bustling commercial district. Across the azure sky dotted with sparse clouds, a flock of birds flew past in the distance. Lining the street, beneath the shade of sycamore trees, crowds gathered before outdoor café tables. Well-dressed gentlemen and ladies rested there, sipping rich coffee and chatting with laughter. "Lanqi, this feels almost too real to be a dream." Talia almost thought they had entered an entirely new reality. This was the future fully projected by the Mirror of Tiberius. Unlike an artificial Shadow World, which could not withstand challengers of exceptionally high tiers exerting their full strength—typically capping out at Tier 4 or 5 simulations for practice—the Mirror of Tiberius allowed one to unleash everything without restraint, no matter how powerful. "It does," Lanqi murmured, taking it all in. This was a legendary magic tool, standing above epic grade; even with restrictions and negative effects, it transcended all conventional logic. The Creti Empire's guardian divine sword in the real world, the Syros Heroic Spirit Sword, was undoubtedly a red legendary artifact as well, teeming with limitless variables. Yet Lanqi had never been infatuated with the power of red legendary artifacts. Once an item reached the red tier, it inevitably carried an ominous nature. Just like the Record of Palroni's Resentment, which was a book-type magic tool forged entirely from etched suffering and tragedy. "Time to get down to business." Lanqi took a deep breath and surveyed the bustling crowds of Horning citizens walking past. "People of Horning!" Standing in the middle of the street, Lanqi drew breath from his core and shouted, drawing the gaze of everyone nearby, as if posing one final question: "If I were to exterminate the Blood Clan down to the last member, what would you do?" He projected his voice across the crowd. The pedestrians on the street and the patrons before the shops abruptly halted everything they were doing. All at once, in perfect synchronization, they turned, stomped their feet, and looked his way. "Then you are our enemy!" The calm expressions on the faces of St. Trick's citizens instantly turned ferocious and savage, glaring at Lanqi with fury. "Hahahahaha!" Lanqi burst into hearty laughter, as if unburdened of a great weight. On the sunlit streets of St. Trick, Lanqi stood alone, an isolated figure out of place with the surrounding crowd, stared down with hatred and on the verge of being swarmed. Yet he simply stood there, laughing freely. "Lanqi, can you hear me?" Talia's voice rang in Lanqi's ear. In the previous simulation, this was the exact moment when Lanqi's Soul Laceration had flared up, leaving him unable to hear her voice as he laughed uncontrollably despite the agonizing sorrow in his heart. "I can hear you," Lanqi's bright voice clearly answered Talia. "Thank goodness." Talia's heart settled. Seeing that Lanqi was genuinely happy rather than suffering through unbearable agony, she felt that his mental state had improved once more. She was certain that this time, not only had Soul Laceration failed to trigger, but Lanqi was even more optimistic than before. The furious crowd, like a pot of boiling water, surged uncontrollably toward him. "Take back your wicked words!" Leading the charge was a young man in formal attire. He roared, veins bulging on the back of his hands like an enraged beast, hatred blazing in his eyes as he sought to deliver a lethal blow to Lanqi. "Don't be so angry." Lanqi's laughter gradually subsided, his gaze remaining as genial as ever. He merely curled his lips, raised a hand, and delivered a slap swift as lightning. *Smack!* A crisp, deafening crack echoed out. The young man was sent flying like a baseball, dwindling further and further into the distance until he vanished like a twinkling star on the horizon. The crowd froze instantly, eyes wide with astonishment. The man appeared to have used a humiliating, fairy-tale-like wind spell to slap someone to who-knew-where, causing minimal actual damage without killing or breaking them upon landing. "Apologize! Apologize to the Blood Clan right now!" Yet before they could fathom what tier of mage was required to produce such an effect, fury swiftly overtook their shock. More than a dozen red-eyed citizens lunged forward, cursing loudly, determined to tear this man who dared insult the Blood Clan to pieces. Another slap, and another flew. "Why are there so many vampire bootlickers?" Lanqi's expression remained unchanged, composed and unhurried. Standing amidst the surging tide of people, his palms moved like flowing water. Anyone who drew near was slapped away with a single stroke, turning into another star on the horizon. In the blink of an eye, over a hundred people had vanished. The rest went completely mad, roaring as they poured from every corner of the street toward Lanqi, submerging his silhouette like a flood. "Since you're assaulting someone in broad daylight, there shouldn't be any issue with me acting in self-defense, right?" Lanqi flicked the back of his hand. Wherever his magic power swept, citizens of the capital were lofted into the air, tumbling wildly across the sky. The inhabitants of the entire city rose into the air like autumn leaves caught in an updraft. His palms stirred the currents of the clouds, shifting the shape of the sky itself. The force piercing the cloud layer was the unique breath of wind—a gale gently sweeping the earth, sending everyone in the city spinning through the tempest, sparing no one! In the end, every single person was slapped away! "Holy shit, Lanqi, did you really just do that?" Talia stared at the utterly surreal scene of the entire city's population being launched into the sky. She had never imagined that the ever-refined and genial Lanqi would do something like this. Single-handedly slapping the entire damn world to kingdom come! "Now the capital is nice and quiet." Lanqi donned his silver-white mask with one hand, speaking with satisfaction on the now-empty northern bank of the capital of St. Trick. The street was completely vacant, leaving Lanqi standing alone in the center. "Why do you always have this obsession with wind magic?" Talia couldn't understand why Lanqi, even while occupying Lankeluosi's body, still loved using wind magic just like he did in the real world. Still, she felt Lanqi was merciful enough. The impending battle would likely cause tremendous destruction. The people on the surface might have been caught in the crossfire. Furthermore, once the Blood Clan grew hungry, these people would all become blood bags. Slapping all the capital's residents away to prevent them from coming near would keep them from being devoured like dessert by the Blood Clan shortly. It was just that Lankeluosi's body was clearly better suited for mental or telekinetic magic, yet Lanqi insisted on using wind to send people flying. "Every time I channel someone, I'm always curious how awesome it would feel to unleash authentic Tier 8 wind magic," Lanqi remarked, sounding as though he had just thoroughly enjoyed experiencing Tier 9 power. "Are you a child...?" Talia mused that Lanqi's thought process wasn't much different from making up for one's childhood wishes. Then again, if Lanqi were a little boy a few years old, it might actually be rather cute, and she might indulge his wishes like a mother. Never mind, she shouldn't think like that—it felt somewhat criminal. Suddenly, Lanqi felt himself locked on by several strands of magic power. Just moments ago, when he unleashed his magic power, the Blood Clan Progenitors beneath St. Trick had detected the arrival of the Holy Polant Pope, just as they had in the previous run. "What, hesitant to welcome me?" Without a moment's hesitation, he asked across the void: "Then I'll just let myself in." Along with his words, Lanqi seized upon the opening to Blood Moon City through the strands of magic. Stepping toward the southern bank, his surroundings shifted abruptly. In a dizzying blur, he felt a brief loss of gravity as he broke through a barrier. Surrounding buildings and trees plummeted upward at terrifying speed, the wind roaring in his ears. He was falling downward at extreme velocity, and as far as the eye could see, the entire city hung inverted. Countless structures seemed embedded in the night, tilted upside-down in complete defiance of gravity. Ornate wooden buildings meshed with castle-like stone walls, gleaming with an intertwining brilliance of crimson and radiance, layered houses lined up in orderly rows to form sharp, multifaceted geometric patterns. "Lord Pope, whatever brings you here?" A teasing voice echoed all around, sounding like a divine decree. The entire city seemed to stretch desperately toward the heavens, only to plunge helplessly toward the center of the earth. "What, am I not welcome?" The silver-masked Pope stood inverted with his hands behind his back, free-falling toward the Blood King Palace. He had already shed his disguise, fully prepared for battle. "Hehe, of course you are welcome. I only wonder whether Lord Pope will still be able to act so aggressively in a moment." The Progenitor's voice echoed through the dark like a phantom. After drifting for an unknown length of time, he was enveloped by an ultra-gigantic palace. The wide corridor before him vanished abruptly, reappearing elsewhere. Room doors shifted location, opening into entirely different spaces. Staircases wound in endless spirals, and the doors lining both sides of the narrow corridors swung open and shut constantly, revealing chilling sights—a surging sea of black blood, seemingly capable of swallowing everything. Suddenly, an ornate sliding door opened before him. He passed through it, and his descent began to slow. Glancing around, Lanqi touched down gently in the center of the palace's circular plaza. Thirteen massive stone pillars surrounded the plaza, each carved with a gemstone totem corresponding to a Progenitor. "Welcome to Blood Moon City, Holy Polant Pope." From the bottomless fog at the edge of the Blood King Palace plaza, the owner of the voice gradually emerged. The delicate-featured Third Progenitor, Rasheal, possessed porcelain-white skin and smooth brown hair falling to his shoulders. He wore a pure black velvet suit, the lapel embroidered with the golden crest of a Horning noble house. At first glance, the Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal, seemed nothing more than a wealthy boy from St. Trick. Yet looking straight into his eyes revealed crimson depths that held an age far exceeding his appearance. "I truly didn't expect you to come. It looks as though you've come to cause trouble for us law-abiding Blood Clan members today?" A faint smile played on the lips of the Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal. "The rest of you, stop hiding and come out." The silver-masked Pope did not waste a single breath on the Third Progenitor, gazing past him into the mist to lock onto the other Progenitors. A beam of blinding white thunder erupted from his palm, shooting straight into the heavens and illuminating all of Blood Moon City as bright as day. Countless brilliant motes of light converged rapidly in the air, transforming into a colossal net of lightning that descended to envelop the city. "Let's not resort to violence right away, Lord Pope." A purplish-red magical barrier formed swiftly around the Third Progenitor, Rasheal, blocking the lightning net. The two magic forces clashed violently midair, unleashing a deafening roar. The Holy Polant Pope's hand remained motionless, sustaining the radiant lightning. Gradually, however, the collision bore no fruit. "Heh. So the invincible Holy Polant Pope is nothing more than this." The Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal, sneered. A magic circle spanning several kilometers formed beneath his feet, radiating a magical power far surpassing the Pope's earlier burst. Countless purplish-red motes of light swirled madly within the Blood King Palace, transforming into scarlet serpent chains that hurtled toward the Pope's light array, stagnating the very air. "..." The silver-masked Pope said nothing. Activating his spell, he rapidly conjured a stone sealing barrier before him. In the clash between the Holy Polant Pope and the Third Progenitor, Rasheal, fine cracks spread across the stone shield, leaving it tottering on the brink of collapse. Countless dazzling beams burst from the Pope's body, weaving into ten thousand wheels of light in midair that surged toward the Third Progenitor, Rasheal, with immense weight. The two destructive forces collided violently in the void, shaking the entire Blood King Palace with an earth-shattering roar. Both spells unraveled in an instant. The masked Pope slowly lowered his hand. Across from him, the Third Progenitor, Rasheal, appeared utterly relaxed. "Sigh, Pope, you're the same as ever—unable to listen to reason. You're already so frail, yet you still fail to grasp the situation. Do you truly believe you're still that invincible Holy Polant Pope?" Rasheal shook his head, as if confirming the Pope's current weakness. That the Pope could only fight him to a draw using the power of the sun indicated that, just as the divination had shown, he was not far from death. "..." Lanqi remained silent. *Lanqi, you actor! You really adjusted your output to match the last run to a tee, didn't you?* Talia asked Lanqi internally. As everyone knew, one had to chum the waters before fishing; scaring off the other Blood Clan Progenitors would ruin everything. Raging flames, a sea of piercing liquid-red fire, swept across the plaza, illuminating the dark Blood King Palace plaza into a crimson abyss. The flames began to scorch the Holy Polant Pope as well. "Don't just stand there, you three. Come help entertain our guest." The Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal, turned his head and looked meaningfully toward the horizon, a smile curling his lips as he called out to several figures lurking in the blood mist at the edge of the Blood King Palace plaza. In that instant, before the Holy Polant Pope could even react— "Die, Pope!" A figure had already appeared before him. The figure's brow was furrowed, a provocative smirk pulled across his lips. The moment his power erupted, his military dress uniform tore apart. His right hand thrust violently forward, nearly striking the Holy Polant Pope square in the cheek. The moment the sonic boom shattered the air within the Blood King Palace, dust scattered, and the Holy Polant Pope's silhouette flickered, barely dodging the blow. He appeared battered, though not a speck of dust clung to the hem of his robe. Before he could fully steady his footing, a faint, feminine fragrance drifted over. "Don't be careless, Somerset. Even if he has just fallen from Tier 9, you are no match for him." A cold, youthful female voice came from the blood mist. Clad in a sheer, dark purple gown, she appeared within the Blood King Palace. "Four years ago, when he had just reached Tier 9, he sealed Second Progenitor Prince Salvatore and Fifth Progenitor Duke Mordecai. It was then that we resolved not to provoke him further." Her eyes remained shut, her eyelashes casting a shadow in the firelight that made the beauty mark beneath her eye all the more prominent. The Seventh Progenitor, Marchioness Heriteer, warned the Eighth Progenitor, Marquis Somerset. The moment she appeared, both the magical intensity of the Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal, and the aura of power radiating from the Eighth Progenitor, Marquis Somerset, began to rise. "We granted this short-lived creature mercy and a dignified end, but that does not mean he can come to Blood Moon City to provoke us." Before the clash could resume, another voice drifted out: "Lord Pope, you look quite delicious." The blood mist condensed into the Ninth Progenitor, Marquis Bernhard. He wore an off-white silk shirt beneath a black velvet vest, an emerald bow tie tied at his collar, and golden-brown curls hanging loosely over his forehead, partially veiling his crimson eyes. Smiling, he walked toward the Holy Polant Pope, revealing a row of neat white teeth, as courteous as a gentleman inviting a guest to be seated. The Seventh Progenitor Heriteer's divination had not been mistaken in the slightest. The Pope likely had only a day or two left to live. Perhaps he had discovered something and rushed to St. Trick alone in a fit of rage. The four Progenitors exchanged glances across the distance, all looking down upon Lanqi. "Why does Your Holiness look so quiet? Have you realized what fate awaits you?" the Third Progenitor, Rasheal, asked from afar. "No, I'm just delighted that all of you came to meet me so warmly." Lanqi revealed no expression beneath his silver-white mask. Placing his hands behind his back, he tilted his head up slightly. "Truthfully, I cannot comprehend your reckless choice to come to Blood Moon City alone. It is truly a blundering move," the Ninth Progenitor, Bernhard, said, pacing across the Blood King Palace plaza. As a Blood Clan scholar, he seemed most interested in conversing with the Pope. "You could have triggered a full-scale war, watching the citizens of the Horning Empire plunge into the flames of conflict, or you could have continued as the Holy Polant Pope, passing away peacefully in an era of prosperity. Both were fine choices..." He analyzed the situation for the Pope like a military strategist. Regrettably, humans were always prone to emotion; the greater the hero, the more likely they were to act on impulse in their twilight years. Even the Holy Polant Pope was not immune to making such an error in his old age. "Then what do you think I should have done?" Lanqi asked with interest. He did not mind taking the time to observe the interior of Blood Moon City a bit longer. "Hehehe." The Ninth Progenitor, Marquis Bernhard, shook his head with a soft chuckle. "As for my advice... let's hold off on that!" Suddenly, a red halo flared around the Ninth Progenitor. Magic power boiled within his body, turning rampantly chaotic in the blink of an eye. Countless scarlet eyeballs coalesced and spread across his entire form, staring greedily and malevolently at the Pope before him. These eyeballs belonged to special adversaries Bernhard had consumed in the past. The innate gifts possessed by those talented, unfortunate souls had been stripped away, now serving as Marquis Bernhard's horrifying weaponry. As his magic power ran wild, the gentleman's handsome features twisted and deformed, his original facial features submerged beneath densely packed eyeballs. The Ninth Progenitor, Marquis Bernhard, no longer retained a shred of human semblance. Baring sharp fangs, he laughed as he sprinted toward the Pope. Those countless eyes gleamed with thirsty crimson light, eager to devour everything before them. A half-in-the-grave Pope weakened to this extent should rest in peace by dying right here at their hands! "What's the rush?" the Third Progenitor, Duke Rasheal, chuckled. He knew Bernhard was simply too eager to feast upon the Holy Polant Pope. However. The silver-masked Pope merely raised an arm and struck toward the Ninth Progenitor who had lunged right before him. Air pressure and shockwaves exploded in all directions. In the distance, the pupils of the three Progenitors contracted violently. Their crimson eyes reflected a scattering kaleidoscope of light. With a single slap, the Pope shattered the Ninth Progenitor, Bernhard, into a mist of blood! "How... can you be... this strong...?" The remaining half of the Ninth Progenitor Marquis Bernhard's fractured skull rasped in a trembling voice. Before he could regenerate, interlocking slabs of stone snapped together, sealing him completely. Lanqi pressed down on the interlocked stone pillar with a single hand. The remaining three Progenitors froze in stunned disbelief. According to their intelligence and divination results, every sign indicated that the Pope should have been weakened to the point where they could defeat him. Yet at this very moment... This white-robed terror of a man had swatted the Ninth Progenitor like a mosquito. Defeat him...? What a joke! Was this monster something the Blood Clan could fight?! They would be lucky if they could even keep him mildly entertained!!