I Ascend to the Divine Throne through Arcane Means - Chapter 80

Chapter 80: Chapter 79: The Wind Rises

In the southern part of the Fanor Continent, a jet-black castle was built in a secretive location.

In the basement of the castle, the entire room seemed to be filled with a deep, dark mist, so dense that one could not see their own hand in front of their face.

Suddenly, the black mist began to subside, rushing towards the center of the room.

An extremely luxurious and exquisitely crafted coffin rested at the center of the room, adorned with gorgeous gemstones and gold leaf. The dark red Dragon Spirit Wood, worth its weight in gold, had been meticulously polished and carved, exuding a simple elegance and a hint of majesty.

As all of the black mist flowed into this exquisite coffin, a faint aura of authority emerged from within.

Creak~

The basement door was pushed open from the outside, and a pale, handsome man entered, bowed respectfully towards the coffin, and said,

“Prince Burns, Your Highness, what are your commands?”

“Marion, how long have I slept this time?”

A deep male voice came from within the coffin, filled with an inexplicable magical power.

“You have been asleep for ten years this time.”

“Ah~, but I haven’t slept enough.”

Burns’s voice was thick with sleepiness.

A speck of red light flew out from the coffin and landed in Marion’s hand.

“Go, to the capital of the Feis Kingdom, find a little fellow named Angela and bring her back.”

“If she does not wish to return, give her this object.”

“Tell the Divine Son that the glory of the Ancestor Cain will guard her on her journey.”

“Be careful yourself, do not cause me any trouble, and come back soon.”

“Yes, Lord Burns.”

Marion bowed respectfully and slowly backed out of the basement.

Silently, the basement began to fill with swirling black mist once again.

“So sleepy, but finally a Divine Son is born, huh?”

“Hurry up and grow, so Lord Cain can have someone else to command.”

“Stop bothering this old skeleton.”

The voice in the room slowly subsided, as if nothing had happened at all.

———-

Bright City, Dawn Cathedral.

Warm, soft light scattered down from the tall arched windows, rows of tall pillars supporting the entire dome of the cathedral, adorned with exquisite patterns and decorations, exuding a strong sense of holiness and purity,

At the end of the cathedral stood a towering altar, on which stood a statue of the God of Dawn, surrounded by important holy objects and altar tools.

Candles burned around the altar, emitting a holy and solemn aura.

This was not the church where the faithful of Bright City worshipped, but rather a more hidden and crucial place.

An elderly man dressed in a red upper garment and wearing a finely made high crown stood silently before the altar, praying quietly.

“Lord Morris, good morning.”

Oriel Gant stood behind the old man, respectfully greeting him.

He couldn’t help feeling awe; this was Cardinal Lu Morris, the Controller of the Dawn Church on the Fanor Continent.

Although reputed as the first amongst the Pope’s followers and a Legendary Priest, the current Morris looked merely like an ordinary old man, without the slightest aura of power.

“It’s Oriel, isn’t it? Not bad, your strength has improved quite a bit recently.”

Oriel listened quietly, somewhat puzzled as to why the cardinal had called him here.

He had been very honest recently!

“The flames of war have already begun to blaze fiercely, and the Church of the Gods is powerless to stop it now.”

Question marks appeared above Oriel’s head.

War?

For Oriel, who had grown up within the Dawn Church, this seemed remote; why couldn’t the Church prevent it this time as it had always mediated in the past?

Lu Morris turned around, smiled at Oriel, and said slowly:

“It’s okay if you don’t understand, but remember, Oriel.”

“You are the most talented child of the Dawn Church, and your pure heart allows you to better comprehend the teachings of My Lord, but there is still much, much more for you to learn.”

“The shadow of war is approaching, and the monsters in the darkness are restless; the future of Bright City will fall into turmoil.”

“Go, fight evil, protect the believers, and spread the glory of My Lord; this is your training and your chance for a breakthrough.”

“Yes.”

This young paladin knelt on one knee, saluted, and then left as commanded.

When the door closed, only Morris was left in the church.

However, this Legendary Priest furrowed his brows at this moment, his serious expression revealing a mix of confusion and incomprehension.

He muttered:

“Even the Lord cannot see the future anymore. What on earth has happened?”

Unfortunately, at this time and place, there was no one to answer his questions.

———-

Bright City, Feis Kingdom’s Royal Palace.

In a uniquely built palace, an elderly man wearing opulent royal garments leaned back on a soft sofa, his tired-looking face and worn wrinkles indicating his less-than-optimistic state.

Similarly dressed in splendid garments, Ya’er sat properly on a sofa nearby, her silence adding an aura of elegance and nobility.

“Be careful in the future, don’t take too many risks.”

The old man advised Ya’er.

“I understand, Father.”

Ya’er respectfully responded, though her tone carried a hint of estrangement.

The old man shook his head and after a few more admonitions, he let Ya’er leave.

After a moment of silence, the old man seemed to speak to Duke Hade beside him, partially as if talking to himself.

“I am not a good father.”

“But you are a good King!”

Duke Hade earnestly responded nearby.

Indeed, he was Morton Fis, the current reigning King of the Feis Kingdom.

“Fusis, you still say the nicest things.”

The old man waved his hand nonchalantly; he didn’t need anyone’s comfort.

“If only I had trained hard when I was younger, maybe I could have become a Golden Warrior!”

“Naturally.”

Fusis replied, but he knew, no matter how many times it came to pass, this King he had served his whole life would never regret taking this path, burning himself out solely for the sake of his Kingdom.

That’s why the once weak Feis Kingdom could rapidly surpass all surrounding nations within decades.

While other kings indulged in pleasures and neglected their duties, Morton Fis was always contemplating how to make his nation stronger, even at the neglect of his own children.

It was precisely because of this that at sixty years old, he was on his deathbed, worn out, and even the priests of the Dawn Church could no longer reverse the situation but only sustain his body with various precious treasures.

“Heh!”

Morton Fis was unconcerned about his body; he did not regret his actions, nor did he need others to judge his accomplishments.

If given another chance, he would do the same without hesitation.

But as he approached the end of his life, he couldn’t help but show a little more love and care for his own blood relatives.

“Do you think this is too cruel for Little Yatean?”

Fusis lowered his head and did not speak, although he already had an answer in his heart.

“I’ve grown old, and my heart has softened as well.”

Morton shook his head, sighing, not knowing whether it was for himself or Yatean.

“Then I will give him this opportunity.”