—— Thanks to Alliance Leader Lan Shang Yun for another tip of 100,000 Qidian coins. Tomorrow we continue with four chapters.
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In a hidden cave near the Dark Mountains in the Melzer Black Forest, Silver-Robed High Priest Ilya stood on a raised earthen platform, looking down at the sparse scattering of cultists below. His fury erupted like a volcano, cracking deep fissures into the earth beneath his feet.
Pure force — no supernatural enhancement whatsoever. At this moment, Silver-Robed High Priest Ilya performed as though he were a high-tier Dark Knight.
"Can someone tell me what exactly happened?!" Ilya roared, but the language he used belonged neither to the Common Language nor to the ancient tongue — it was composed of words steeped in darkness, evil, and dread.
The Silver White Horn cultists who had managed to escape the Church and the Knights' pursuit now numbered fewer than ten. A fifth-tier Great Knight, the "Night Slayer" Dragan; a fifth-tier priest; a fourth-tier priest; three clerics; and one ordinary Dark Knight — that was the entirety of the Silver White Horn's remaining strength in the Vorlite Principality. They had lost over ninety percent of their forces!
How could Ilya, who had spent years of painstaking effort building the Silver White Horn to a strength comparable to an entire diocese of the True God Religion, possibly keep his sanity under such circumstances?
As he roared, the priests, clerics, and knights all bowed their heads deeply, not daring to face the High Priest's wrath. His fury also conjured a layer of black, sulfurous flames across his entire body, blowing his silver hood back as though caught in a gale and exposing his head.
It was a monstrosity with two curving ram horns, blood-red eyes, and an aura steeped in evil and destruction.
After venting his rage for a while, Ilya finally regained his composure, pulled his hood back into place, and asked: "Can someone tell me — why did Camille, Amorton, Gossett, and Natasha arrive so quickly?"
Silence. No one answered. No one knew why.
Ilya's red eyes swept across the seven cultists as he asked again: "Can someone tell me — why did that damned mage, the 'Professor,' flee toward the sealed ruins?" This intelligence had come from Dragan, who had eaten the brain of a Night Watch agent. In their frantic retreat, they had no idea what had happened inside the underground prison — they assumed Jansen had been killed by some infiltrating Night Watch agent during the chaotic escape.
Silence. More silence.
Ilya nearly lost his sanity again, barely restraining the urge to roar: "Then can someone tell me — what intelligence do we have on the damned 'Professor'?"
This time, someone finally answered. Dragan suppressed the fear inspired by Ilya's overwhelming aura: "Your Eminence the High Priest, according to intelligence provided by a mage we've been cooperating with, the 'Professor' is very likely a special envoy dispatched from Arcane Council headquarters to investigate the earlier incident. In fact, we received word two days ago that the 'Professor' had arranged to meet a Magic Apprentice nearby to explore the ruins. However, their location was far from ours, and the information about the ruins was also inaccurate, so we didn't move to intercept. We never expected that the Magic Apprentice had brought along Church Night Watch agents."
"You didn't intercept — you actually didn't intercept?!" Ilya wished he could tear Dragan to shreds and swallow the pieces.
Dragan realized he'd misspoken and could only lower his head in silence, though inwardly he argued: "If we had to intercept everyone this far away, then the entire Melzer Black Forest would fall within interception range — it would only increase our exposure."
The eastern entrance of the Lanaka Gorge was a full ten-plus minute march from the foreman's cabin. Moreover, the "Emmden" ruins that the Professor and his group were planning to explore lay in the direction of the Masor River!
After his outburst, Ilya spoke in an icy tone: "I suspect the 'Professor' deliberately lured the Night Watch here. On one hand, it would eliminate a traitor; on the other, it would inflict serious losses on the Night Watch."
"But, Your Eminence the High Priest — didn't you tell us that the Arcane Council was on our side in this matter? Why would the 'Professor' do this?" A fifth-tier priest asked in confusion.
Ilya let out a soft laugh: "Humans are always full of internal strife. The Arcane Council is no exception."
Then he turned around: "I shall pray to the great Lord of Silver White, the True God who governs eternal and unchanging silence, and see what revelation He bestows."
All the cultists dropped to their knees and began to pray.
Minutes ticked by. A dense mass of dark shadow emerged from within Ilya's silver priestly robes, shrouding the space ahead in the deepest, darkest, most oppressive blackness.
From within the darkness came a terrifying pressure — an indescribable, evil voice that seemed to resonate in the heart of every person present, yet none could comprehend its words.
Soon, the shadow dissipated. Ilya rose and raised his right hand: "The great Lord of Silver White has revealed to me that changes have indeed occurred. But under His eternal and unchanging divine grace, the changes will be delayed. We shall have ample time to complete this undertaking and continue building His earthly kingdom for the True God."
"May You walk upon the ground as You walk within Your kingdom," the other cultists responded, their voices filled with joy.
Ilya continued: "The great Lord of Silver White also granted me a prophecy regarding today's events: 'A falling star heralds the prologue of chaos. The Throne of Fate has lost its master. The faithless who walk in both light and darkness ascend the resplendent stage for the first time.'"
"What does the True God's prophecy reveal?" Dragan had not understood the poetic verse at all.
Ilya shook his head: "Altor has been defiled by an evil god. The presence of the abominable evil god's servant, Saer de, renders the prophecy exceedingly vague."