Teacher Loren's Resurrection Match

Night fell. The full moon hung high in the sky, a brilliant canopy of twinkling stars glittering across the heavens. The lights on the second floor of the Brierda Opera House flickered on once more. Situated on 33rd Broadway in the central district of Manhote in the city of Brillda, the historic theater stood adjacent to renowned institutions such as the Sound of Brillda Orchestra and the Brillda Royal Dance Troupe. Abigail had recently purchased and taken over this storied establishment for a colossal sum, and having lodgings above the theater was entirely thanks to her uniquely distinguished standing. "What on earth is going on?" A group of exhausted figures slumped across the couches or sat draped over the high stools by the artistic bar counter. The second-floor space of the Brierda Opera House covered roughly as much area as the main auditorium below. Blending the aesthetics of an ancient divine palace with a modern library, it had essentially become the current headquarters and meeting hall of the Silver Moon Restoration Society. After Ranch successfully repelled Rasheal, they had spent some time taking down the remaining two—Ninth Progenitor Marquis Bernhard and Tenth Progenitor Marquis Ulysses. They had then brought the marquises to the Blood King Palace to rendezvous with Ranch, sealing them one by one into temporary magic cards. Finally, they had returned together to the siege camp on the western front and fed them to the Nuclear Fusion Wolf. The moment Talia ignited the Nuclear Fusion Wolf, all of them had gathered at the western camp of Blood Moon City. Using the evacuation corridor Abigail had prepared in advance, they stepped straight through to their base on the second floor of the Brierda Opera House and promptly slammed the spatial gate shut. The entire process had taken less than an hour. Yet the moment they returned to the surface, they found that the imperial situation had changed into something utterly incomprehensible. "My head is a complete mess right now, too." Abigail pressed a hand to her forehead, her pure silvery-gray hair spilling over the back of her hand as she leaned against the sofa, seemingly nursing a vicious migraine. Throughout the assault on Blood Moon City today, her brain had been operating in severe overdrive without a single pause. Between directing the overarching situation and simultaneously controlling mechanical assistants to construct the siege camp on the west side, she was now pushed to the brink of utter exhaustion. "Eat something, Abigail." Talia paused the waffle she had been about to bring to her lips and held it out toward Abigail beside her. The brain was an organ that consumed a tremendous amount of energy. Even if the sky collapsed, one still had to eat. "Tata, you really are the most optimistic girl I've ever met." Abigail hesitated for a moment before taking the waffle from Talia. Though her heart was still hammering with anxiety, seeing Tata's unshakeable psychological resilience helped soothe her nerves just a little. At that moment, Ranch and the others were staring with furrowed brows at the Brillda news broadcast projected onto the screen. The magic crystal screen mounted on the wall flickered, broadcasting an urgent news bulletin from the Creti National Television Station. The news anchor wore a solemn expression, though his voice remained steady. "We interrupt this broadcast for breaking news. At 5:58 this evening, an earthquake struck Brillda. According to data from the Creti Geological Research Institute, the earthquake registered at a magnitude of 5.2, with a focal depth of approximately 8 kilometers beneath the urban district of Brillda. At present, there have been no reports of significant casualties or property damage caused by the earthquake." The screen cut to footage from the Creti Geological Research Institute, where a geological expert in a white lab coat appeared before the camera. "According to our analysis, this earthquake was tectonic in nature. The urban area of Brillda is situated at the boundary between the Southern Continent Imperial Plate and the Selenia Plate, a region known for active crustal movements. This earthquake was likely the release of energy triggered by plate movement. We will continue to monitor aftershock activity and provide timely updates to the public." The footage cut back to the studio as the anchor resumed reporting. "Citizens, please remain calm. The buildings throughout our city have undergone rigorous seismic engineering and magical reinforcement, allowing them to withstand an earthquake of this magnitude. Nevertheless, we advise everyone to stay vigilant and pay close attention to updates from municipal authorities. If you discover any hazardous situations, please contact the emergency hotline displayed on the screen immediately." Soon, however, the anchor's expression grew even more grave. It was as if the earthquake in the capital was entirely trivial by comparison. "Next, this station will continue our follow-up coverage on the major incident that occurred tonight at Creti Memorial Square. According to eyewitnesses at the scene, just as the National Day celebration reached its climax, five War Gods abruptly lost their sanity and launched an attack against Emperor Saint Bardo. The other War Gods present engaged in fierce combat against their peers, who were under the control of mental arts. The battle inflicted severe damage upon Creti Memorial Square and Saint Astri Palace, and Emperor Saint Bardo tragically perished. "According to an official announcement by Jasper, the Fourth War God and interim military spokesperson, the mastermind behind this incident was an ancient Blood Clan Progenitor who had manipulated five of the War Gods for over two years, intending to overthrow the Creti Empire. However, thanks to the exhaustive investigation and pursuit carried out by Violet, the Sixth War God, as well as the heroic resistance of Hyacinthus, the First War God, Rasheal was successfully defeated, sparing the Creti Empire from a catastrophic calamity." Afterward, the screen showed a replay of the battle that had unfolded tonight at Creti Memorial Square. Hyacinthus raised the legendary Syros Heroic Spirit Sword, working a miracle at the very brink of ruin. To the shock of all citizens of the empire, this War God—who bore not a single drop of royal blood—had earned the recognition of both the Heroic Spirit Sword and the ancestral spirits of Syros. "We look toward the future with great anticipation. Under the leadership of Lord Hyacinthus, the Creti Empire will surely surmount this crisis and usher in an even more glorious tomorrow. Even the allied forces of the northern nations will find it impossible to shake the foundations of our great empire. Let us pray together: may the Creti Empire flourish, and may Lord Hyacinthus's name be celebrated for ten thousand generations!" The moment the anchor finished speaking, Ranch used the remote control to turn down the volume. He seemed to need absolute quiet to piece together what had happened. The moment they stepped back onto the surface, the sky had completely changed. They had merely spent a few dozen minutes destroying Blood Moon City, yet from their perspective, the surface world looked as though it had transformed entirely. No matter how they looked at it, they could not comprehend how the surface had ended up like this. "Things felt off the moment I realized I had lost contact with Violet," Abigail said, reviewing the sequence of events for the group. "At the time, I assumed she was locked in bitter combat against Rasheal and simply lacked the spare focus to reply to my transmissions. But later, when I tried to contact her again, she was completely unreachable." For today's operation, Violet had temporarily taken Secretary Naira's Number 8 Divine Communication Magic. The moment Rasheal fled, Commander Abigail had relayed the information to Violet immediately. Violet had indeed intercepted Rasheal successfully, and a massive clash had erupted in the Hall of Divine Descent. That was precisely when communications had severed. "What could we have done back then to prevent this?" Antanas asked, still unable to fathom what part of their plan had gone wrong. "Was there anyone available to go up to the surface and back up Violet?" "We didn't have the hands! Down in Blood Moon City, the enemy had two more cardinal-level combatants than we did!" "Even if anyone had rushed up, they wouldn't have made it in time. Everything happened far too quickly. Besides, if anything went wrong, we wouldn't have been able to tear down Blood Moon City, and destroying Blood Moon City was undeniably the right choice." Although they were still debating Blood Moon City, the dust had already settled, and none of it was the main point anymore. They could not change the past. After tonight, the entire Creti Empire—and indeed the entire Southern Continent—would never be the same again. That minor tremor was merely the faintest quiver as the wheel of the world's destiny began to turn. The real tempest was the upheaval that had taken place on the surface and the paradigm it carved out for the future. On the screen, the Creti National Television logo slowly emerged, accompanied by the solemn strains of the *Ode to Syros*, searing this extraordinary night into the hearts of every citizen. Inside the mansion, the post-battle review continued unabated. Everyone was processing this staggering news, their hearts weighed down with a tangled knot of emotions. Yet one thing was certain. From their perspective, this heroic epic was a lie. Rasheal and the Blood Clan had been defeated by *them*, not Hyacinthus. "All right, stop debating Blood Moon City. We did exceptionally well down there," Ranch said, finally standing up and clapping his hands to call for their attention. "What we need to reconstruct is what on earth happened on the surface in the time following the breach of Blood Moon City." He appeared composed, but the gleam in his eyes was far from relaxed. Part of it was fatigue, and part of it was the certainty that the imperial situation was even direr than they had imagined. Looking past the half-drawn curtains, he could see the mansion's expansive terrace. Even the Madison Park Restaurant on the eleventh floor of the Vince Liberty Memorial Building near Broadway Square—where he and Talia had visited before—had turned remarkably dim and closed early on what should have been a bustling National Day. "First of all, judging from the trance-like behavior of the War Gods earlier this afternoon, their mental control was indeed severed for a brief period." Once Ranch was sure everyone was looking at him, he used the remote to rewind the news footage. He focused on the state of the War Gods at Creti Memorial Square shortly after five o'clock, occasionally pausing the playback to show everyone gathered in the drawing room. "That aligns perfectly with the timeline of Violet engaging Rasheal," Pranay calculated inwardly as he spoke. He remembered every single critical node of the assault on Blood Moon City. "This proves that Violet's Flawless Pure Land of the Moon Goddess took effect. And look at the sky at that time—the sun was still blazing in the late afternoon. There is no way she could have lost to Rasheal," Ranch agreed, zooming in on the color of the sky on screen to demonstrate his point. The disparity in their combat power was overwhelming. Violet was a solid, genuine cardinal-level combatant, whereas a wounded Rasheal, fleeing in disgrace from Blood Moon City, would at best be around Tata-tier beneath the sun. "..." From the couch, Talia shot Ranch a sideways glance. She knew Ranch had not meant it intentionally. Under such grim circumstances, she could feel he was in no mood for jokes; he had simply ingrained certain habits into second nature. Still, at a time like this, she did not want to interrupt him. "We don't know what specifically transpired in the Hall of Divine Descent at that moment, but look—here is the strangest detail." Ranch rewound the footage a little further, playing back the National Day military review parade at Creti Memorial Square shortly after five, looping a close-up he had pinpointed. Shortly after Violet departed, Hyacinthus offered his apologies to Emperor Saint Bardo and headed off in the same direction Violet had taken. "So Hyacinthus definitely took part in the battle alongside Violet in the Hall of Divine Descent?" Antanas asked, pointing at the screen. "Exactly. The logic falls into place. Judging from the conversation between Hyacinthus and Rasheal during their decisive duel at the imperial palace under the night sky, the scenario they described—which is also the scenario the citizens of Brillda find easiest to swallow—is that Rasheal used his full Tier 9 power under the cover of night to defeat both Violet and Hyacinthus." Ranch set the remote down for now. Even Boss Cat reached an epiphany at this point. According to the timeline known to the siege team, Violet had engaged Rasheal at dusk. There was no way Rasheal possessed Tier 9 combat power when he clashed with Violet and Hyacinthus. "Do you think that's possible?" Ranch asked. Others might not know, but they were acutely aware that when Rasheal fled Blood Moon City, Ranch had already broken his defense and posture twice over. Claiming that was true was no different from claiming that Tata had successfully defeated both Violet and Hyacinthus on her own. "..." Whether it was the companions who had already deduced the sequence of events before Ranch began explaining or those who had previously been utterly bewildered, everyone understood Ranch's meaning completely. "Ranch, that's quite enough!" Seeing everyone's thoughtful expressions, Talia stomped her feet on the sofa in exasperation, and suddenly the waffle did not taste as good anymore. She knew that, thanks to Ranch's analogy, everyone was treating her as a standard unit of measurement for combat strength, and they were all actually contemplating how on earth she could beat Violet plus Hyacinthus. Yet she could not even refute that Ranch's analogy was infuriatingly easy to understand! To the citizens of Brillda, and even the public across the Creti Empire, Hyacinthus's flawless script might seem like an unassailable heroic epic. But to the Silver Moon Restoration Society, who possessed the full picture, it harbored an enormous, glaring loophole. Rasheal also had no reason to risk his life to assassinate Emperor Saint Bardo; the person he wanted dead most was definitely Ranch. "Which means... the only reasonable explanation is that Hyacinthus backstabbed Violet, meow?" Boss Cat asked timidly from Hyperion's arms. From its perspective, Hyacinthus's sudden betrayal was utterly terrifying. Violet, who should have won, had been betrayed at the crucial moment by Hyacinthus, the person she trusted most. As a result, Violet had been defeated, her life or death unknown. Hyacinthus had then taken the opportunity to seize control of the weakened Rasheal, biding his time until nightfall so Rasheal could recover his Tier 9 strength, and staged a self-directed performance: Rasheal carried out a suicide strike against Emperor Saint Bardo, and Hyacinthus finished off the already-battered Rasheal, becoming the empire's savior. "It could only be so. All of this was merely a stage built for the birth of a hero," the Ice Snow Witch murmured, watching Boss Cat nestled in Hyperion's embrace. Hyperion was still somewhat weak, so Boss Cat, concerned for her, had scampered over to her side. However, she did not seem too distressed by the backlash of Melogas's venom. Both her father, Michele, and her mother, Iphatia, were at her side now. From originally wishing she had a mother around, Hyperion now found herself surrounded by almost too many motherly figures. "The tides of the world can be directed with just black and white pieces. But what if the player holding both colors is the exact same person? If there is no chaos, Hyacinthus creates it himself; and the one who settles the chaos is still Hyacinthus. Only, what he performed was not a struggle, but a play that required no rehearsal," the Ice Snow Witch said, her expression fraught with worry and a profound, chilling edge. Whatever Hyacinthus did, on the surface it appeared devoted entirely to the people—selfless, upright, and dedicated to the empire. And he had indeed succeeded in stealing both fame and dominion, cementing himself as the absolute strongest entity of this era. "Almis, how do you understand this so thoroughly?" Synora asked suddenly. In her memory, Almis, as an anti-war demon civil official, was the least inclined toward political intrigue. While the rest of them had vaguely reached the same conclusion, none had articulated it so clearly in an instant like the Ice Snow Witch. "I..." A faint blush touched the Ice Snow Witch's cheeks. She was too embarrassed to admit that this was precisely how she had always envisioned Loren. Yet as it turned out, Loren was a true gentleman, while the person actually orchestrating such grand machinations was someone else entirely. When she met the Bishop of Domination again in Brillda on the Southern Continent, Loren had already fallen. Almis had frankly questioned Sigrid about Loren's elusive appearances across both continents, only to learn that Ranch and Toliado were behind it all—every bit of it had been false intelligence. She had been utterly mortified. Every time she recalled how she had guarded against Loren like a thief back in Ikerite, while Loren had always treated her with boundless goodwill and sincerity, guilt nearly moved her to tears. And now that Loren had sacrificed himself, she did not even have the chance to apologize to him. Human life was as brief as a candle's flame, yet she had never truly opened her heart to understand that kind-hearted colleague. Now, all she could do was pray to the Goddess of Fate each day with unrealistic yearning, hoping against hope that a miracle would occur, and that the Goddess of Fate would protect Her High Priest and bring him back. As for persecuting Loren—she would never, ever do such a thing again. "So, to sum it up: someone has stolen the fruits of our victory. And the greatest hidden threat lurking within the empire all along was First War God Hyacinthus... On the outside, he was a genial, gentle figure, but in reality, he's a madman who could casually strike down Violet, a lunatic who takes pleasure in deception, slaughter, and trampling upon trust?" Hyperion asked, picking up the thread as if sensing Almis's awkward plight. "That is the deduction that best fits the facts," Pranay nodded. In the world line foreseen by the Goddess of Fate, had Ranch done nothing, Hyperion would have died early on, and the Blood Clan's scheme would have progressed smoothly. Hyacinthus might have continued to bide his time until he found a miracle to strike down the ascendant Blood Clan, rising as the empire's hero in the future. Hyacinthus had always been the empire's greatest peril. Because Ranch and the others had successfully vanquished the Blood Clan, Hyacinthus had seized a golden opportunity ahead of time. He had used the moment to direct an improvised grand spectacle, using the Blood Clan as a stepping stone to ascend to the pinnacle of the Heroic Pathway. Inside the mansion, the companions sitting around the couches fell into silence. Hyacinthus had now seized the prestige and power of the Creti Empire, and he had attained a level of power that left them completely outmatched. A Tier 9 Hyacinthus was not a support-type Tier 9 like Rasheal who could be countered with specific tactics. He was an authentic, slaughter-type Tier 9, whose offense was even more hyper-specialized than that of Pope Saint Polant. He possessed virtually no flaws or blind spots; defeating him by any means other than a direct frontal assault was utterly impossible. "What are the chances of assassinating Hyacinthus? Strike while he's injured and take his life!" Antanas suggested fiercely, clenching her fist as she looked at the dejected group, unsure whether their gloom was from exhaustion or despair. "If he has any life-saving measures left, we will be completely wiped out. Besides, we don't even know how he altered Rasheal's will," Pranay glanced at Antanas, voicing the thoughts Ranch held. Since Hyacinthus had dared to orchestrate this performance—even inflicting his own wounds—he had certainly calculated his own condition down to the smallest detail. As a martial combatant, there was a high probability he possessed potent recovery methods; he might not be nearly as battered as he appeared. The reason Hyacinthus was hailed as an absolute powerhouse was that his stamina and sustain never faltered; he had no such weakness. Even Ranch, who was usually aggressive, had not entertained a decapitation strike, which demonstrated just how microscopic its feasibility was. The strength of a Tier 9 Hyacinthus was beyond their comprehension. Moreover, Hyacinthus now wielded the red legendary divine sword, and ten War Gods swayed by his performance stood at his side. For the Silver Moon Restoration Society, freshly battered from their own grueling battle, getting past the War Gods alone was a monumental challenge. "Four cardinal-level figures, plus six quasi-cardinal-level figures... That's far harder than Blood Moon City," Michele estimated, counting on his fingers. During the civil clash among the War Gods tonight, the lucid War Gods had held back, avoiding mortal slaughter. The casualties among the War Gods were far lighter than those sustained by the siege team at Blood Moon City. If neither side had time to recover, their group would be in far worse shape than the War Gods. "Then if we rest and regroup, can we find a way to strike down Hyacinthus before he consolidates his grip on the empire?" Iphatia asked, holding Michele's left arm and looking up at him. A period of recuperation felt far more necessary for their side. Michele shook his head. "We can't win. There is no hope," Toliado spread his hands, leaning against the bookshelf and speaking bluntly. Both he and Michele were Cardinal Bishops possessing finely tuned instincts for discerning true power. Having reached their current heights, they understood better than anyone how terrifying those far above them truly were. Antanas looked at the bone-deep weariness etched onto everyone's faces. Even Toliado, who had never feared death, could not see the slightest glimmer of victory. Ranch remained silent, still deep in thought. Seeing Ranch's expression, everyone seemed to understand. Ranch was the type who, so long as there was even a shred of a chance, would remain resolute to the end and pursue the correct course. Yet now, even he had fallen silent. This was the first time he genuinely felt that victory was unattainable. In the mansion's great hall, hope faded like the dying embers of a vanished sunset, about to plunge into the blackest night. No one knew how long passed. Not a single person spoke. Until, suddenly, Abigail's divine communication magic chime sounded. Surprised, she took it out. A private message flashed across the display. *"Open the door. I've arrived at the Brierda Opera House."* It was unmistakably a message from Number 9. "Is Frey looking for you?" Ranch asked Abigail. Anyone contacting Abigail via divine communication magic at this moment had to be a core member of the Silver Moon Restoration Society. The only members not present were Number 9 Frey, Number 5 Alexia, and the mysterious Number 4. Without Abigail's authorization, even if one reached the second floor of the Brierda Opera House, they would not be able to enter the spatial pocket where the group currently resided; they would merely find themselves in an empty second-floor apartment. "It's Frey," Abigail nodded. After Frey had rescued Michele to confront Tenth Progenitor Ulysses, Frey had informed her that he was heading back to the surface to rescue Third Imperial Princess Alexia. At that point, Blood Moon City no longer required him as frontal combat power, whereas Princess Alexia on the surface was at risk of imminent peril. "Frey, I've located your coordinates. Just walk through any door on the first floor of the opera house, and you'll reach the second-floor pocket space," Abigail spoke into the transmission. Shortly after her words fell, transparent ripples washed over the mansion's double doors like surging water. A moment later, two figures stepped through from the other side. Frey focused his senses, assessing the space around him. Its intricacy far exceeded any mechanical boundary he had ever witnessed. The vaulted ceiling soared roughly fifty meters high, painted in a style mirroring the auditorium downstairs, while the surrounding walls were lined with dark-brown solid wood bookshelves that stretched all the way up. Aside from countless antique collections, a set of ancient Vince Free Federation-style sofas and coffee tables occupied the center of the hall where the companions sat. The entire space was bathed in warm brass-toned lamplight, offering a vantage overlooking Broadway Central Square. Yet it was far from as simple as it appeared on the surface. Concealed beneath every wall were spatial boundary runes and engravings laid down by Abigail and Toliado. "I brought the princess back ahead of schedule. Though according to the news, it's probably being described as an 'abduction,'" Frey remarked. His appearance had changed, though those violet eyes remained as piercing as ever. Upon stepping into the spatial boundary of the second floor, both he and the woman beside him dispelled Ranch's custom camouflage magic. Seeing the woman beside him, everyone stood up out of courtesy. "Everyone, please, there is no need for this!" Princess Alexia waved her hands hastily, gesturing for them to remain seated. There were many unfamiliar faces here, but she knew for certain that all of them had just endured a grueling battle. Her ability to escape confinement was entirely thanks to their efforts. "Alexia, long time no see," Hyperion greeted her. Even though nearly two years had passed since their last encounter, she still recognized Princess Alexia. The young princess carried herself with innate humility. Her satin-smooth brown hair was woven into intricate braids, and her azure eyes shone like gemstones. However, she appeared slightly on edge, still trembling from her recent escape from turmoil. Over a year ago at the Banquet of Sanctuary Rogues, it was Hyperion, Ranch, and Frey who had first met Alexia. "I'm sorry I arrived so late," Alexia bowed her head to Hyperion, and then to everyone present. Ever since Violet, the Seat of Chrysoberyl tasked with guarding the capital, had gone to Lake Starnberg near Botswana Province for surveying, the Blood Clan had accelerated their control over Brillda, even placing Alexia under heavy surveillance. Fortunately, with the leaders of the Blood Clan thoroughly vanquished by the Silver Moon Restoration Society, their dominion had crumbled, and she had regained her freedom. "Thank goodness Frey went to retrieve you immediately. Otherwise, with Hyacinthus in power, your surveillance in the coming days would only have multiplied, not lessened," Ranch sighed with relief upon seeing Alexia unharmed. Her status as the offspring of the late emperor was far too sensitive. Even if Hyacinthus chose not to purge the late emperor's orphans to maintain his benevolent facade, he would never grant Princess Alexia freedom. Sooner or later, he would take control of her or erase her entirely, perhaps subjecting her to a fate worse than death. "Thank you. You saved my life," Alexia said to the three of them, her tone earnest and deeply moved. At the beginning, she had never imagined that these three extraordinary people from Ikerite could truly reach this stage, fulfilling the promises they had made in Lichtens Castle. "Don't mention it. Our fates were tied together long ago," Hyperion reassured her. "The promise I initially made to Alexia was the same as yours—I swore I would get her out," Frey said. "So I figured that once Blood Moon City fell, the Blood Clan viscounts and the thralls under their control on the surface might lash out in desperation and endanger Alexia. That's why I headed to the surface right away, slipped into the imperial palace under cover of darkness, and took Alexia with me. Looking back now, abducting her was definitely the right call." Frey had only just returned from outside, but judging from everyone's expressions and what he had overheard, he grasped the general situation. At present, Alexia's "disappearance" was the best possible outcome, and to the other imperial citizens, her motive for fleeing was easy to understand. Yet inside the mansion, the atmosphere of the Silver Moon Restoration Society was far heavier than he had anticipated. "Frey, our only option right now might be to retreat back to the allied nations in the north, take our time to plan, and launch a counterattack when an opportunity arises. Do you intend to remain in the Creti Empire?" Ranch looked at Frey, relaying the group's final conclusion. He knew Frey was accustomed to operating in stealth and roaming freely; only when Frey disappeared from the map was he at his most formidable. Given Frey's personality, dangerous as it was, he would likely want to remain in enemy territory. "Is there truly not a shred of hope?" Frey asked. He trusted Ranch's judgment, so he asked only for the verdict, not the rationale. "If we clash head-on right now, we will be wiped out. Having uncovered the truth, we cannot afford to lose all of ourselves here; otherwise, the Southern Continent truly will have no hope left," Ranch nodded solemnly, looking between Frey and Alexia. "We will escort Alexia back to the northern kingdoms. One day, we will rally behind her legitimate claim to march back, purge the traitor Hyacinthus, and reclaim the Creti Empire." He now understood the immense weight Alexia carried. The others said little, their silence conveying their agreement with Ranch's decision. Regret lingered in all their hearts. Yet the stark reality dictated that they had no choice but to leave. Sometimes, endurance was necessary; every retreat was made for the sake of future victory. Running away did not necessarily stem from cowardice; it took courage to live to face a genuinely grim trial. Yet who knew how many years of warfare and suffering would follow this retreat? They had managed to infiltrate so many pinnacle combatants directly into the heart of the empire in Brillda. Once they evacuated, such an opportunity might never come again. "Please, wait a moment. Let me ask Number 4... Perhaps he can help us," Alexia said with a bitter look in her eyes. She was profoundly grateful that everyone was willing to protect her, a dangerous liability, saving her from peril and offering to take her to the northern kingdoms. But fleeing her own homeland was an agonizing choice to make. Everyone turned to Alexia. "Number 4, Blazing?" Ranch recalled Secretary Naira mentioning that night that Number 4 was the member closest to an outside contractor. Typically, no matter how severe the crisis, he remained aloof and uninvolved, unless circumstances turned truly desperate, at which point he might intervene as a member of the Silver Moon Restoration Society. Judging by Alexia's expression, even though she knew one person could hardly turn the tide, she had to make this final attempt. Number 4 had to be someone of considerable status and authority for Alexia to see a glimmer of hope in him. "Let me contact him first. Toliado, please open permissions for me," Alexia said, turning to Toliado, the founder of the Silver Moon Restoration Society. She, Toliado, Abigail, and Barton—the early numbered members—were essentially the founding figures of the organization. "No problem." Toliado readily produced his divine communication array and granted permission to Number 5. Only when he, as Number 1, opened access could other members communicate privately; otherwise, only Number 1 and Number 2 possessed the authority to contact other members individually. Clutching her divine communication card, Princess Alexia immediately reached out to Number 4. "Everyone thinks he acts without using his brain, but in reality, he's my lucky charm. He always manages to help me. Sometimes he's genuinely reckless, and other times he does it deliberately, so that even when he makes baffling moves at crucial moments, no one suspects he has ulterior motives," Alexia murmured to herself with little expectation. It was not that Number 4 was so powerful he could reverse the tides alone, but at a juncture like this, she had to put some faith in fortune. In her eyes, that man had always possessed an uncanny stroke of sheer luck. The brief ringing tone while waiting for the connection sounded like the collective heartbeat of the room. Hearing Alexia's description, Number 4 sounded like a top-tier troll. Fortunately, within two seconds, the other end connected. It seemed he had been waiting over a month for Alexia's call. "It's me. I managed to escape from the imperial palace," Alexia reported her safety. *"Thank goodness. As long as you're safe. I was trying to find a way to reach you, but you had already vanished,"* a man's voice breathed a sigh of relief over the divine communication magic. "Julius, can you help us? I'll explain the full story to you later, but under no circumstances can you trust Hyacinthus! Everything that happened tonight was orchestrated by him!" Alexia pleaded. Because of the trust they had built over time, she believed he would trust her first. Hearing Alexia utter Number 4's name, the companions in the second-floor mansion froze in disbelief. "Julius?" "The Seat of Rubellite, Tenth War God?!" "There's one of us among the War Gods?!" The companions by the sofa exchanged shocked glances. Violet, the Sixth War God, was at best an external ally who had agreed to assist them against the Blood Clan; she had never intended to abandon her stance as a War God to join their ranks. Yet now, Alexia was telling them that one of the War Gods was an actual core member of the Silver Moon Restoration Society. Looking back, everything aligned: over a month ago, Number 4 was the only member not present in Brillda, and Julius had indeed not yet returned to the capital at that time. "So that day..." Talia stood stunned. She finally understood why, on the night of the Moon Goddess Festival when Ranch carried her cat form to the High Priest's hall to see Violet, Tenth War God Julius had arrived first and engaged in a fiery argument with Violet inside her office. At the time, she had heard a man's furious, passionate voice ringing through the doors of Violet's hall, shouting, *"Violet! This is all your fault!"* followed by the heavy slam of a fist on a desk. Inside, Violet's voice had carried a rare touch of anger, though mostly tinged with helplessness. She told Julius that as High Priest, she could not make reckless choices like he did, and warned him not to blame everyone else for everything. Violet had been completely bewildered by the sudden scolding. In the end, Julius had snapped, *"Fine, you're always right! Talking to you is a complete waste of my time!"* before storming out, slamming the door and calling back, *"The empire ended up like this precisely because of indecisive cowards like you, always fussing over trivial nonsense!"* Recalling that exchange now... Talia suspected Julius might be regretting it bitterly enough to slap himself twice. It was almost certainly because Violet's transfer to Botswana Province had indirectly allowed the Blood Clan to imprison Alexia. The moment Julius rushed back to Brillda and found Alexia unreachable, he had blown his top and picked a fight with Violet. "Yes, Julius is the confidant to whom I entrusted the fourth divine communication card of the Silver Moon Restoration Society," Alexia confirmed to the room. The moment she received the Number 4 communication magic card crafted by Abigail, she had sought out Julius and handed it to him. Having Julius, such a formidable ally, was the meager foundation of confidence she possessed to oppose the Blood Clan in the Creti Empire. *"Even if I coordinate with you from the inside, there's practically no hope of stopping Hyacinthus's coronation,"* Julius said after a moment's consideration. Although he had never met the others in person and was unsure of their identities, he had become familiar with them through their group communications. "Hyacinthus has already decided to become emperor?" Abigail asked in shock. *"Hyacinthus's coronation ceremony will likely be set for three days from now to finalize matters as quickly as possible. That was the consensus reached among us War Gods. He politely declined at first, but ultimately agreed. From what you've just told me, Alexia, every bit of it must have been an act."* Julius had already returned to his estate. Following tonight's turmoil, he was thoroughly exhausted; his only certainty was that he was speaking from a secure location through encrypted divine communication magic. *"As for asking me to help you stop him, there's virtually no hope. His recovery speed is astonishingly fast; he's no longer an entity that our tier can harm. On the day of the coronation, all ten of us War Gods will be guarding him. Aside from me, every single War God trusts Hyacinthus implicitly."* Julius relayed the internal intelligence from the Hall of Divine Descent. A heavy stone seemed to crash into everyone's chest once more, leaving only hollow silence. *"I can share one piece of intelligence with you: the appraisal results for the Syros Heroic Spirit Sword,"* Julius continued. While Hyacinthus was receiving treatment, the War Gods gathered around him had finally been granted the opportunity to witness the divine sword in its full splendor and examine its true properties. Julius transmitted his appraisal results through the divine communication card to the group at the Brierda Opera House. --- **[Syros Heroic Spirit Sword]** **[Category: Magical Equipment]** **[Grade: Red Legendary]** **[Attributes: Enhancement / Counter]** **[Tier: 8]** **[Effect: Can only be wielded by descendants of the Syros Imperial Bloodline. Summons the heroic spirits of Syros to drastically enhance all base attributes. When attacking targets whose Imperial Standing is lower than the wielder's, the heroic spirits of Syros inflict massive top-down suppression and grant specialized damage bonuses. Enhances suppression and specialized damage against beings devoted to deities of the evil alignment.]** **[Description: With blood forge the empire's shield; with soul unseal dawn's gate. The heroic spirits of Syros endure forever.]** --- Staring at the glowing runes floating above the translucent pink communication card in Alexia's hand, everyone's expressions grew even bleaker. "This 'Imperial Standing' essentially means it inflicts the highest damage against commoners, slightly less against barons, less again against viscounts, and the bonus is lower against dukes, though the specialized bonus still applies," Alexia explained. As someone capable of resonating with the Syros Heroic Spirit Sword—the guardian artifact of the empire—the ancestral spirits protected her from evil entities. Consequently, she could perceive the presence of malicious beings that ordinary people could not detect. A previous accidental touch of Emperor Saint Bardo's sword had revealed numerous crimson phantoms lurking near the imperial palace, which was when she had gradually realized the weight of the Creti Empire's destiny resting on her shoulders. Even Barton, the former commander of the Imperial Guard, had rarely seen Emperor Saint Bardo's sword up close, let alone dared to appraise it. Historical records likewise contained no detailed descriptions of its properties. Not only did it bestow numerous blessings upon its wielder and grant massive enhancements, but during the Holy War era, an ancient emperor at the peak of Tier 8 had wielded it to hold his ground against a Tier 9 Greater Demon. Now, they finally saw the sword's true effects. "No wonder this sword repels evil spirits," Barton murmured. This red legendary weapon was purely and overwhelmingly powerful. Merely holding it conferred immense buffs, stacked with specialized bonuses against subjects, and an additional layer against evil beings. Third Progenitor Rasheal had essentially suffered the full brunt of all three enhancements combined. "Holy crap, if he attacks me, won't I get instantly vaporized?" Toliado exclaimed, recognizing the terrifying danger after reading the sword's description. "Goddess of Fate, I am your devout follower!" Toliado hurriedly began praying, scrambling to cling to the Goddess's feet at the eleventh hour. "Sigh." Talia shook her head. Even in a dire situation like this, Toliado's mental state remained admirable. She picked up a waffle and popped it into her mouth. At a time like this, only the sensation of a full stomach brought her a measure of comfort. "Is there truly no hope left?" Sigrid muttered, clearly irritated. She clenched her fist in anger, only to let it loosen as though all the fight had drained out of her. She had lived through every kind of desperate plight, but never had she felt so stifled—forced to retreat without a shred of hope before the fight had even begun. Right now, they genuinely lacked both the morale and the strength. Moreover, she trusted Ranch's judgment. If Ranch said they could fight, she would charge in even if it meant death. But if Ranch said they couldn't, then even if she longed to battle, she would flee alongside him. "Lord Julius, we will escort Princess Alexia to the allied nations of the north. We will return one day. When that time comes, we will need your help once more. We leave the dangerous task of remaining undercover to you," Ranch said, finally accepting the defeat after a long silence. Hearing Ranch's words, everyone's hearts settled with finality. Conquering Blood Moon City and overcoming Third Progenitor Rasheal had already been a grueling, narrow victory. If anyone was to blame, it was Hyacinthus for concealing his true colors so deeply. Everyone had done their utmost. No one could have foreseen this twist. *"I understand,"* Julius, an unwavering patriot, replied. *"However, since you have ties to the allied forces... do you know that Loren is still alive?"* Julius had not terminated the transmission, turning the subject abruptly. He had just heard them mention taking Alexia to the northern allied nations. If they wanted to secure victory in the future, relying on the allied forces' strength would be indispensable. "?" Ranch looked up in utter bewilderment. He took a step forward and snatched the divine communication card from Alexia. "Wait, what did you say?" "Lord Julius, please, explain in detail!" he pressed in rapid succession, unable to conceal the agitation in his eyes. *"Because Loren possesses a bizarre trait where he grows stronger the longer he fights, Goyate, the Third War God of the Sardonyx Seat, lacked confidence in securing a clean victory over him back then. So Goyate used his epic sealing artifact, the Illusory Domain, to seal the weakened Loren away. Right now, High Priest Loren is imprisoned beneath the lowest level of the Hall of Divine Descent."* Although Julius did not know why the member on the other end was so worked up, he could guess that the speaker had deep ties to the allied forces and cared immensely about High Priest Loren. The original plan had been to wait until the war calmed down and the War Gods had spare focus before opening the Illusory Domain to finish Loren off, which was why matters had dragged on until now. Now that Hyacinthus had ascended to Tier 9, once he assumed the throne and consolidated his grip over the Creti Empire, eliminating Loren would likely be his next step to remove the final thorn in his side. "Ha... haha..." Ranch held the communication magic card, stepping back two paces before sinking onto the sofa, looking as if the taut strings in his mind had finally loosened slightly. A laugh broke from him, mingled with sorrow and joy. High Priest Loren was actually still alive. The Loren who had set out to fetch him back from Palieu, the City of Flowers; the man who wanted to protect everything; the valiant priest who had stood alone against three War Gods—clumsy and awkward, yet embodying the purest essence of humanity. Yet fantasies could birth miracles. The Loren he believed in was indeed the strongest! Three War Gods had failed to kill him!! *"If the allied forces wish to rescue Loren, they must do so as soon as possible, and I will assist to the best of my ability,"* Julius told the group. For someone to make even Goyate feel wary, High Priest Loren was certainly no ordinary combatant; he might well possess talent on par with Hyacinthus. It was said that Loren had accumulated immense power of faith through countless deeds of virtue across both continents. If Loren could be rescued, he might one day step into the Tier 9 divine realm through the true Heroic Pathway, becoming the key to defeating Hyacinthus. "..." Ranch gripped the divine communication card, the profound blankness in his emerald eyes lingering for a long time before finally melting away. His gaze gradually cleared, shining with the light of fervor and redemption. "So before we leave, should we find a way to dispatch people and rescue Loren amidst the chaos?" Michele asked, stepping in when he saw that his colleague Ranch—who seemed both like a prospective son-in-law and a prospective brother-in-law—remained silent. He was deeply grateful to Ranch for rescuing him. Their complicated relationship could be sorted out slowly later, but saving Loren admitted no delay. Loren was his close friend as well; perhaps it was his turn to save Loren this time. Loren's imprisonment was likely the highest-level classified intelligence known only to the Twelve War Gods. To them, Loren had always been a designated combatant of special note. Previously, Violet had not known they were affiliated with the allied forces, so she had no reason to disclose information concerning the empire's highest security matters. Fortunately, in this desperate hour, they had Tenth War God Julius—a true insider among the War Gods. "No..." Ranch slowly shook his head. "Perhaps... there is still a faint glimmer of hope." Everyone looked at Ranch in astonishment. They were not entirely sure what Ranch meant by "hope," but perhaps he was speaking of hope for *complete victory*. His emerald eyes, shining as brightly as Pope Saint Polant's, seemed to scan through countless future paths, seizing upon the single perilous thread that offered a chance to defeat Hyacinthus. "If we want to win, we can only win on the day of Hyacinthus's coronation. Because that day will command the attention of the entire Southern Continent—not just the Creti Empire, but even the northern allied nations," Ranch said, addressing the room. "What about rescuing Loren?" Toliado asked. They certainly could not abandon Loren. At this juncture, Loren was undeniably one of their pinnacle combat assets—the only all-rounder who possessed both the mechanics and the raw stats. "We do both simultaneously," Ranch replied with unwavering certainty. "You want to accomplish everything on that single day?" The others understood in a flash. The sole path to victory Ranch had uncovered required completing two epic tasks at once: rescuing Loren and defeating Hyacinthus! "How are we supposed to win, then?" Antanas raised her hand, questioning. Setting aside the fact that either task alone was as difficult as ascending the heavens, Antanas still could not fathom how Ranch believed both could be accomplished at the same time. At this point, even Pranay had not fully grasped Ranch's specific plan. "If the enemy can do it, so can we. Hyacinthus staged a grand play to ascend to Tier 9—why can't we learn from him and allow a Tier 9 powerhouse to descend upon our side as well?" Ranch clenched his fist and spoke to the room. This was, after all, the craft he excelled at most on the Northern Continent. "You mean...?" Hyperion gasped in realization. She was certain that if Ranch were to revert to peak Rocky McCarthy at this very moment, this legendary president's capabilities would not pale in the slightest before an emperor who had stolen a nation! "Exactly. This is our ultimate measure—the Artificial God Project," Ranch declared. Tier 9 was hailed as the divine realm, an elevation nearly unreachable for mortals of this era. Yet Hyacinthus's success had revealed the feasibility of manufacturing an artificial god through extreme, artificial means. And that happened to fall squarely within Ranch's area of expertise. If he lifted all constraints and went all out, he would not fall short of Hyacinthus. "Meow?" The corner of Boss Cat's mouth twitched uncontrollably. Ranch was no longer satisfied with manufacturing Loren; now he was going to manufacture a god. Hyperion hugged the cat tighter. For some reason, she felt the Goddess of Fate was about to lose her composure once more. Not only had Ranch refused to hold back, but he was about to pull off the most radical stunt of his entire career of manipulating the High Priest. "To achieve this plan, numerous conditions must be met. While there is a margin for error..." Pranay murmured, seemingly the first to deduce Ranch's general concept. "...everything hinges on the premise that a Tier 9 Loren can defeat a Tier 9 Hyacinthus, correct?" Sigrid asked, having read Ranch's intent as well. Since she, at the peak of Tier 8, could hardly defeat Hyacinthus at the peak of Tier 8, the same logic applied even if both ascended to Tier 9—especially when Hyacinthus held the divine sword. The only bet was that Loren's trait of growing stronger through battle would allow him to gradually match Hyacinthus's strength in a fight to the death. There were two reasons Ranch chose Loren for the Artificial God Project. First was name recognition and trust—the ease of acquiring the power of faith. The sources from which they could draw faith right now were all on the Southern Continent. They needed a figure with immense renown across the Southern Continent who possessed a righteous image. Cardinal Bishops on par with Ivanos, the Bishop of Destruction—such as Toliado, the Cardinal of Dimensions, and Sigrid, the Bishop of Domination—were entirely out of the question. Second was the feasibility of defeating Hyacinthus. Had Hyacinthus lacked the red legendary divine sword, the Syros Heroic Spirit Sword, and had the battle taken place under the moon, Sigrid's baseline would have been exceptionally high. At Tier 9, defeating Hyacinthus through sheer regenerative power would not have been out of the question. Yet under their current circumstances, they had to gamble on the ceiling. Loren's baseline was not as stable as hers; his combat power was a volatile climb that grew continuously throughout battle, but his ceiling was correspondingly immense. Hearing Ranch's explanation and the discussion between Pranay and Sigrid, the hearts of the others began to race. Although they still had no idea how Ranch's convoluted scheme could possibly be executed at Hyacinthus's coronation three days from now, one thing was practically certain— "Once Loren wins... will he end up forced into the imperial robes?" Talia asked hesitantly. Given the theatrical extravagance of Ranch's scripts and direction, if he truly succeeded in staging an act even more outrageous than Hyacinthus's, she shuddered to imagine what the outcome would look like. Knowing Loren, a stunt like this would definitely leave him wearing an expression of utter despair. A hush fell over the second-floor mansion. "I'll make the decision on Loren's behalf," Ranch said, clenching his fist. Even though the guilt in his heart left him terrified to face Loren, a leader was needed at this moment to make the call. He had to stand firmer than anyone else. If anything went wrong, it would be his responsibility. Since everyone treated him as their leader, the blame should not be shared; he would shoulder every bit of it himself. And so, he made this choice. "So long as you choose to fight to the end rather than retreat, then in the final battle three days from now, I will perform as High Priest Loren one last time," Ranch said, his gaze resolute. Success was not the end, and failure was not final. They had to forge ahead; compromise with the enemy was the one thing they could never accept. Carrying convictions through from start to finish—that was Ranch's creed. The others clearly hesitated. Two days of rest provided a much-needed breathing window for them as well. Fresh from the bitter battle at Blood Moon City, facing Hyacinthus and the remaining War Gods tomorrow would have crushed their exhausted bodies. They had no desire to retreat like beaten dogs. Given such a chance, they were determined to take the gamble. The only question was how much responsibility Ranch would shoulder, and to what horrifying extent Ranch's notion of "sacrifice" would push Loren against his will. "Ranch, is there going to be a problem with the way you portray Loren?" Talia asked during the lull. Talia remembered that the longer Ranch played Loren, the more off-track the persona drifted. While it carried the aura of a supreme conqueror, it bore zero resemblance to the original. She distinctly remembered Ranch standing atop a skyscraper on a rainy night in Palieu, telling Perlman: *"This seat grants you an opportunity to challenge me."* If Ranch portrayed Loren like that against Hyacinthus the day after tomorrow, then whenever they actually rescued the real Loren, he was going to suffer absolute agony! "No one understands Loren better than I do. Tata, just put your heart at ease," Ranch said with supreme, unshakeable confidence. If a biography were ever filmed of Loren, Ranch was undeniably the prime actor for the role. Or rather, the artistic image of Loren seared into the public's mind was already inseparable from a professional actor like him. Besides, without an overwhelming presence that proclaimed himself supreme beneath the heavens, Loren could hardly execute the script of their Artificial God Project with maximum efficiency. "Bro, are you serious?" Talia looked at Ranch with pitying eyes, words failing her. It seemed Lanlan's illness still required treatment. Though he was acting more and more like a normal person, he still retained a touch of his original, authentic flavor. "I agree with Ranch's thinking," Abigail offered her opinion as a professional director. "When 'Loren' makes his debut, he *has* to act a little dramatic. Only then can he bluff everyone. He must appear as an absolute powerhouse to instill a sense of security." She would assist Ranch with all her might on the day. She had always said being a director was far more useful than being a magic engineer; look how quickly her true calling was proving its worth. "..." Boss Cat was the least inclined to speak right now. It could no longer predict what fate had in store for Loren. "I agree." "Let's do it three days from now." One after another, everyone voiced their consent. United in purpose, they cast their votes. First, they wanted to shoulder some of the burden for Ranch so he wouldn't carry the blame alone if things went wrong. Second, since everyone had agreed, no one could judge anyone else. The final curtain of the Creti Empire—let Ranch be the one to draw it back.