The great fire in Liuyan City took three full days to completely extinguish. The materials Anbaixiu had used in the alchemical bombs were specially concocted, packed with exceptionally potent accelerants. The flames produced by the blasts burned stubbornly, barely subsiding even when drenched with water.
Rachel Angelo had not closed his eyes for three entire days. It was not just because of the difficult inferno, but also because several more soldiers in Liuyan City had succumbed to undeath, one after another.
Each transformation into undead fell like a heavy hammer, striking blow after blow against the morale of Liuyan City.
This sudden transformation, striking without warning, was a devastating blow to anyone who had faith in the Holy Light.
In the hearts of all Ryanians, the undead were the ugliest, most evil race in the world. Ryanians were raised from childhood to see the undead as their lifelong mortal enemies.
Gareth carving a bloody path through Ryan, the undead army of the Rose of Decay laying siege to the imperial capital—these were humiliating chapters branded deep into Ryanian memory.
As children, nine out of ten Ryanians fantasized about slaying these undead, washing away Ryan's disgrace, and becoming heroes of the empire.
Yet most of these youths ultimately failed paladin training, ending up as ordinary foot soldiers or drifting into other trades.
Even stripped of their dreams, they never forgot that the undead were Ryan's sworn enemies.
And now, they themselves were turning into undead without warning.
Many soldiers barely had time to realize what was happening before their undead transformations triggered Liuyan City's defensive wards, bringing down Holy Light to purge them on the spot.
After this happened several times, Rachel Angelo had no choice but to temporarily deactivate part of the defensive magic array's functions.
Because those who turned into undead could still be saved.
Frodo, the first victim of the curse, had been sent to the imperial capital, where the power of the Dragon Tyrant Armament had reversed time and restored him to his human form.
"What that lich said was true. What a pity. I should have shown more patience—at least enough to pry out the truth behind this curse."
Rachel Angelo now felt a pang of regret. He shouldn't have launched a Holy Light strike the moment he realized Anbaixiu was fleeing. In the end, he hadn't even purged the lich's body, and the bastard had torched half of Liuyan City in retaliation.
To this day, Rachel Angelo still couldn't fathom how Anbaixiu had flown so fast, nor what weapon he had used to pierce Liuyan City's magical shield.
In truth, Rachel Angelo had suspected the curse was linked to the Fountain of Youth water he had consumed earlier. The first soldier who turned undead had also drunk from the Fountain of Youth and, like Rachel Angelo, had begun losing hair.
When Rachel Angelo saw patches of baldness appearing on his own scalp, he had furiously executed the minor noble in the dungeon, believing the man had intentionally set a trap for him.
The Fountain of Youth water might be the vector of the curse; everyone who drank it would turn into undead.
That theory had kept Rachel Angelo awake all night, terrified that he might suddenly transform into an undead monstrosity.
Yet over the next two days, some of the soldiers who turned undead were mere low-ranking rank-and-file who had never touched the Fountain of Youth. Rachel Angelo didn't know whether to breathe a sigh of relief. On one hand, it meant he was no more susceptible to the curse than anyone else; on the other, it proved his hypothesis wrong. He had neither found the curse's origin nor deciphered any pattern behind its manifestations.
In the end, Rachel Angelo could only issue an order: as long as they retained their sanity, all soldiers who underwent undead transformation were to be sent to a specially constructed holding cell. Once the Ryan Emperor arrived at the front lines, he would beseech His Majesty to wield the Dragon Tyrant Armament's power to save them.
Only upon hearing that salvation was possible did the panicked minds in Liuyan City settle down somewhat.
Once the fire was subdued, Rachel Angelo ordered an inventory of the supplies, only to find that most of the storehouses were completely gutted. Gods knew what concoction went into those alchemical bombs; the heat they generated was horrifying, melting steel armor into slag, while the rest of the supplies had been largely reduced to ash.
Rachel Angelo felt a sharp pang of distress. These were war materiel stockpiled in advance; now they would have to requisition replacements from other cities.
Before the campaign had even begun, Liuyan City was already in ruins. Rachel Angelo couldn't shake the creeping dread that this war was ill-fated.
Yet the arrow was nocked to the string; there was no turning back.
The Ryan Emperor had personally decreed that the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn was to be resolved once and for all, turned into Ryan's backyard.
Rachel Angelo understood the decree well enough. Strategically, it might not be the wisest choice—the orcs had already breached the gateway, and waging war on that front would clearly be much easier.
The reason for targeting the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn was precisely that they had never fought them before. Any achievement won in this campaign would belong entirely to the reigning Ryan Emperor.
The young emperor needed a resounding victory to bolster his prestige.
Fighting the orcs wouldn't do; earlier wars had not been fought under his command, so even a victory would be dismissed as merely picking up easy spoils.
The young emperor wanted reforms. He wanted to centralize more power in the crown rather than dividing it among the likes of the Supreme Arbiter and the Minister of Military Affairs.
In the past, such ambitions would have been sheer delusion. The young emperor was little more than a breeding machine; how could someone who couldn't even hold a sword steady possibly earn prestige?
He couldn't even replace the Supreme Arbiter, for no one was willing to lay down their life for him.
But things were different now—not only because a traitor had emerged from the Supreme Arbiter's own family, but even more so because the emperor could now command the Dragon Tyrant Armament.
The young emperor had previously only heard that the Dragon Tyrant Armament was a national artifact, not to be wielded lightly, and that only those who resonated with it could inherit the throne. Yet it had remained locked away in the vaults, its true purpose unknown to him.
Only when he finally donned the artifact did the young emperor realize why it deserved to be called a realm-anchoring artifact.
The power to reverse time itself—it was practically divine.
There was no need to study martial prowess or swordsmanship, no need for physical conditioning.
As long as he wore this artifact, he possessed the might of a dragon and nigh-indestructible defenses. With a mere flick of his finger, time would flow forward or backward at his whim.
The young emperor believed this was invincible power. No one in the world could resist the Dragon Tyrant Armament. It was time for him to step out from behind the scenes, casting off the role of a breeding puppet to become a true Emperor of Ryan.
As long as he accumulated enough prestige, all the powers of the empire could be reclaimed.
All members of the Ryan royal clan consented to the young emperor's plan. Even if unleashing the Dragon Tyrant Armament demanded an exceptionally cruel price, they spared no thought for the cost.
For those royals lurking in the shadows knew Ryan was growing unstable. Fanatical ideologies were drifting further and further from orthodox doctrine, leaving many within the empire bewildered and disillusioned. Even the Supreme Arbiter had shown ambiguity and hesitation—and that old man had corrupted the ethos of the Tribunal.
If this continued, Ryan would tear itself apart from internal friction. The royal clan believed it was time to remind the people of Ryan of imperial majesty. As long as the Dragon Tyrant Armament was used to conquer and unify the continent, every voice of doubt would be silenced.
The Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn—a realm from which Ryan had never managed to wrest an advantage—was the ideal candidate for the Dragon Tyrant Armament's maiden battle. A victory there would be an indisputable conquest, immune to question or compromise.
Rachel Angelo was well acquainted with the undercurrents of the imperial capital. He had no love for the Supreme Arbiter either; the old man was rigid to a fault and had repeatedly censured Rachel's ruthless slaughters. Fortunately, Rachel Angelo had always covered his tracks meticulously, producing ample "evidence" to justify every massacre. Otherwise, that old man would have dared throw him into a dungeon.
Now that the emperor intended to replace the Supreme Arbiter, Rachel Angelo applauded wholeheartedly. In fact, he wished they would abolish the office of Supreme Arbiter altogether.
Hence, Rachel Angelo also hoped this war would proceed smoothly without a hitch.
Yet meeting so much trouble right from the start left Rachel Angelo filled with foreboding. This was a war they could not afford to lose; no one could bear the consequences of defeat.
As Rachel Angelo was pondering how to organize the reconstruction of Liuyan City, someone suddenly came in to report: "General, we have discovered several deserters."
Rachel Angelo frowned and asked, "Deserters? Soldiers spooked by the undead transformations?"
The subordinate shook his head. "No, sir. They belong to the Ironblood Lion Legion."
Rachel Angelo bolted to his feet, his burly frame radiating oppressive menace. He demanded in fury, "How could there be deserters in my personal guard?!"
The Ironblood Lions were troops Rachel Angelo had raised and drilled himself. Composed entirely of paladins, they were his finest elite. Several squad captains among them were legendary paladins, his fiercest and most loyal subordinates.
Rachel Angelo had never doubted this unit's loyalty, nor worried about their morale; these were veterans who had survived alongside him through countless bitter, bloody campaigns.
When the undead transformations first erupted, the Ironblood Lion Legion had been the quickest to regain their composure. They were the ones who kept up their spirits, fighting fires while rescuing citizens.
How could a unit like that produce deserters?
Hanging his head in trembling dread, the subordinate answered, "It's Frodo Orse and Lorencos Orse, General. They left Liuyan City with several paladins. There was no departure permit filed, nor any record left behind."
"Frodo and Lorencos?"
Rachel Angelo froze completely. Wasn't Frodo the very boy he had sent to the imperial capital, saved by the emperor himself? And Lorencos was Frodo's father, one of Rachel Angelo's most capable right-hand men—a legendary paladin!
"Impossible! That is absolutely impossible!"
Rachel Angelo refused to believe these two would ever desert. There was simply no reason for it!
Something unexpected must have occurred. Perhaps it was related to that curse. Perhaps Frodo had relapsed into undeath, or even Lorencos had turned into an undead alongside him. Aware they were losing control, they must have chosen to leave voluntarily.
It had to be! They would never desert without cause!
"Find them! Give chase immediately and bring them back! If they've turned into undead... regardless, bring them back first!"
As Rachel Angelo's orders were issued, Liuyan City's already strained forces dispatched another elite squad led by a legendary paladin, pursuing the direction in which the "deserters" had fled.
Rachel Angelo sank back into his general's chair, rubbing his aching head in distress.
Without his realizing it, several more strands of red hair drifted down, making his patchy scalp look all the more unsightly—just like Liuyan City was right now.
Chapter 331