While Tian Mo was still enjoying his long cigarette on the rooftop and looking down upon the worldly chaos as if watching a puppet show, the atmosphere in another part of the central Gimle Palace began to heat up.
The sun had now climbed into the sky, bathing the palace walls with a dazzling glow.
In King Gyo’s private study—a spacious room decorated with red velvet tapestries and white marble pillars—the tension was so thick it seemed to freeze the air.
King Gyo sat on his throne with a darkening expression.
Before him stood Julian, the representative of the House of Vallière, while the intelligence report in his hands trembled violently.
As an important figure in the Gimle Palace, Julian was not just any ordinary representative of the House of Vallière.
He was the betrothed of the royal princess, who would soon celebrate her tenth birthday party, as well as the eldest son of Duke Archambaud—one of the most influential and wealthiest southern noble clans, possessing massive military might that served as the primary backbone of the Vallière faction.
The political engagement between Julian and the royal princess was far more than a sweet celebration welcoming the royal child’s tenth year.
Behind the polite smiles of the nobles and the glittering facade of the Gimle Palace lay a much deeper, darker motive.
The planned marriage was agreed upon solely to prevent Duke Archambaud—the wealthy and influential ruler of the southern territory—from turning directly into an enemy of the kingdom.
King Gyo acutely realized that his throne was fragile without a giant ally.
More than that, King Gyo desperately needed a powerful pawn to counter the duke in the future, because knight captains or royal generals, no matter how great and well-trained they might be, remained mere mortals who could never hope to match the terrifying power of the descendants of gods (players) and the duke’s Hybrid Troops, which had allowed him to directly overthrow two other dukes.
The Hybrid Troops created by the House of Vallière were no ordinary army.
They were the result of experiments conducted through forced crossbreeding between humans and various demi-humans, beastkin, and other select races.
This forcibly and ruthlessly imposed blood fusion successfully boosted their physical strength, speed, and combat instincts far beyond the limits of ordinary human capability.
It was this barbaric method and blatant desecration of bloodlines that made the Vallière family deeply hated by the Church of the Goddess of Light and the Temple of the Thirty Gods of Aethelgard.
Such practices were regarded as major sins violating divine law and the natural order.
Nevertheless, not a single religious faction or kingdom dared to act recklessly and attack them first.
The church higher-ups were well aware that even if their own power eventually managed to wipe out the House of Vallière, the losses and casualties incurred would be extraordinarily massive.
Moreover, in their weakened state following the great war against the tyrannical family, the temple and church factions were extremely vulnerable to sudden threats or attacks from other religions, as both religious blocs were actually locked in a Cold War, harboring deep-seated grudges against one another while constantly seeking out each other’s vulnerabilities and weaknesses to strike.
This combination of brutal hybrid forces, geopolitical royal hesitation, and acute paranoia among the religious factions was what allowed the House of Vallière, under the iron fist of Duke Archambaud, to remain standing as an untouchable scourge in the southern lands.
Returning to King Gyo’s private study…
”This report…” King Gyo’s voice choked, his eyes staring intently at the contents of the parchment scroll, “…states that Inquisitor Isolde not only secured the magical memory-recording crystal left behind in the alley during the escape, but she has also begun sniffing out the existence of a secret logistic route connecting the southern territory with the paid provocateurs.”
”Although the main culprit holding the crystal managed to escape using emergency spatial teleportation in the narrow alley, the leftover prohibited artifact remains a major disaster.”
For the Church of the Goddess of Light and the God-Punishing Troops, the existence of an unauthorized cross-memory visual recording crystal lacking the special seal and warrant of Pope Celestine V constituted an absolute violation categorized as heresy and illegal scrying magic. This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
For King Gyo, the pressure from Inquisitor Isolde and the Church of the Goddess of Light was not the only terrifying matter.
Behind the facade of his seemingly fragile rule, the king actually harbored a secret trump card he received full support from the First Generation Pope, the shadow leader of the Kingdom of Winterfell whose existence was concealed from world history.
However, the backing of that legendary shadow figure was not a guarantee of absolute safety.
King Gyo knew very well that even the First Generation Pope would face immense difficulties if forced into a direct, open confrontation with Pope Celestine V, who currently held full control over authority, masses, and powerful supporting networks across the entire continent.
To the shadow leader of Winterfell, King Gyo was merely a political pawn.
Protection would only be granted as long as the king retained high value and usefulness for the grand scheme behind the scenes.
Conversely, the moment King Gyo found himself cornered, made too many fatal mistakes, or was deemed no longer strategically beneficial, that shadow figure would not hesitate to cast him down into the abyss of destruction without so much as a backward glance.
This bitter realization made King Gyo’s spine grow increasingly cold.
Trapped between the Vallière faction, the threat of the holy church, and a selfish shadow ally, he stood entirely alone upon a throne that could crumble into ash at any given moment.
Behind the arrogant mask and cold smile he always wore before the king, Julian’s heart was actually surging with immense relief.
Deep within his innermost soul, Julian was actually a gentle, compassionate youth who utterly despised bloodshed.
The failure of the provocation plan in the merchant district was not something he regretted on the contrary, he felt deeply grateful.
His true nature never desired chaos that could claim the lives of innocent people.
Although he inherited extraordinary genetic potential as a third-generation descendant of gods from Duke Archambaud’s lineage and a second-generation descendant of gods from his mother, and was recognized as a tactical genius by his family, Julian possessed zero desire for combat.
Deep down, Julian was a young man endowed with extraordinary gentleness of heart—the type of person who could not bear to see any living creature, let alone other people, suffer or get hurt.
Whenever he was forced to swing a sword or incapacitate an opponent using his Talent—named “Tactical Flow,” which was merely the ability to read enemy movements fractions of a second faster, analyze structural weaknesses in an opponent’s defense, and calculate energy efficiency with precision—his chest would invariably be struck by a profound sense of guilt and nausea.
To Julian, the smallest amount of pain inflicted on anyone else was a crushing emotional burden.
He would much rather tend to flowers in a hidden garden or read books in a quiet corner of the library than ever witness blood dripping from the tip of his weapon.
The combination of his extreme gentleness and the ruthless demand to become a bloodthirsty monster under his father’s tutelage kept his soul in a state of constant torment.
That was precisely why, when the vicious provocation plan in the merchant district completely failed and ended up taking zero lives, Julian did not feel disappointed in the least.
Behind the arrogant mask and cold smile he presented to King Gyo, Julian instead drew a long, silent breath of relief—thankful that today, not a single innocent life had to be sacrificed for his family’s corrupt ambitions. Read this novel at novelping.com for the best experience.
Then, later that night…
As the silence of night began to envelop the corners of the palace, the door to King Gyo’s private study creaked softly, breaking the tension that had only briefly subsided.
A sturdily built man stepped inside uninvited.
He was Julian’s personal bodyguard, who was also a third-generation descendant of gods—the very figure who had recently been hunted down relentlessly by the God-Punishing Troops of the Holy Church of Winterfell, yet managed to escape cunningly thanks to his physical agility and teleportation magic.
Beneath his left eye, which was covered by a magical burn scar, flickered the cold glare of a veteran assassin.
Without wasting any time, the bodyguard bowed respectfully before King Gyo and Julian, then delivered a secret report in an extremely careful, whispered tone.
”Your Majesty, Young Master,” the bodyguard began his report.
“Although the chaos in the merchant district was quelled by the Holy Inquisition—who managed to secure the evidence—Duke Archambaud is not sitting idly by.”
King Gyo narrowed his eyes, intrigued.
“What Plan B could possibly bypass the strict surveillance of the Holy Inquisition?”
The bodyguard glanced briefly at Julian, then continued, “The Duke has prepared two special hybrid pawns—the result of a high-tier forced crossbreeding between selected humans and the strongest demi-human races from the southern territories. Both hybrids possess ferocious combat instincts and impenetrable physiques.”
The bodyguard added with an absolute tone of emphasis, “And most importantly, this plan is guarded with the highest level of secrecy. Only Duke Archambaud and myself, his trusted confidant, know of it. He entrusted its absolute execution directly to me so that no information would leak to the ears of the church.”
Not stopping there, the bodyguard smirked faintly, adding another far more dangerous detail of terror.
”In fact, long before this incident occurred—specifically the day before the House of Silver delegation arrived in the capital—I secretly infiltrated the lodging quarters of the northern knights,” the bodyguard whispered in a low tone.
“There, I planted a cursed talisman, a horrific combination of ancient demonic sigils and a ritual curse cast directly on-site, rather than using long-distance transmission which leaves magical traces.”
The bodyguard explained that the talisman planted directly via physical contact could not be detected by the knights’ scouting magic or spirit observation.
Because only a pope, a holy magic expert, a shaman, or an experienced witch doctor possessing high spiritual sensitivity would be capable of detecting it.
If the talisman was not found and uprooted from their lodging before celebration night arrived, the curse energy would slowly destroy the internal organs and circulate an invisible poison capable of effortlessly killing the well-trained knights of the House of Silver without resistance.
It was this foul method of terror that made shamans who mastered the art of demonic sigils so feared, intensely hated, and hunted down mercilessly by the Church of Goddess of Light and the Temple of Thirty Gods of Aethelgard.
Such practices were considered the most vile spiritual crimes defiling the sanctity of the faithful’s lands.
Hearing that cunning report, King Gyo laughed with satisfaction, feeling victory was within his grasp.
Yet right there in the same room, Julian felt his entire body grow cold.
Beneath his arrogant mask, he once again cursed his father’s cruelty, agonizing over how his father dared to use demonic methods to exterminate his enemies down to their very roots.