After Becoming The Tyrant CH 146 Hello, My Knight
Abyss Strait, east side.
After the black dragon was killed and the news of the defeat of the Baliner mercenaries came back to the Holy Court, the Pope sighed softly.
"As expected, it really is the alchemist."
He whispered, as if a deduction that had been speculated for a long time had been confirmed.
One item was delivered to the Pope across the Abyss Strait under the escort of the fleet through the hands of the head of the Inquisition Bureau. It was a crystal ball belonging to a witch. The Inquisition Bureau had hunted down countless witches since a thousand years ago, and the Holy Court had preserved many things that belonged to witches.
This crystal ball recorded the whole process of the black dragon being slayed by the alchemist knights.
The Seventh Sanctuary of the Holy Court had already produced a copy, and at this time, they were repeatedly observing the recorded abilities of the alchemist knights, and comparing them with the many files preserved by the Holy Court.
Except for the killing of the black dragon, the defeat of the Baliner mercenaries was nothing to the huge Holy Court. The Pope never expected that in the Legrand Empire, the rebellion would cause serious damage to the royal family. On the other hand, the Pope's purpose had also been achieved——
The recruitment of the expeditionary force had been carried out in an orderly manner, and believers of the Holy Lord have gathered in various countries. When the Baliner mercenaries and the head inquisitor set off a war in Legrand, tens of thousands of Holy Court troops would be gathered.
All the price paid was worth it.
The hired mercenary legion forced Legrand to take special measures to drive public anger against the greedy nobles. The slaughtered descendant of the evil dragon caused the alchemist knights hiding in the dark to enter the battlefield ahead of time. Although the King of Legrand was able to take advantage of this chaos and temper his empire into an iron plate for a short time, the Holy Court also got what it wanted at a price that was still acceptable.
Like when two eternally feuding camps were attacking, for certain purposes, they would reach an alternative "cooperation" in a subtle way.
This cruel dance of death was spinning rapidly, and everything was unpredictable before the blade was drawn.
"Legrand, Pureland I."
The Pope stood up. He was alone in the room.
He pressed a switch in the study, and the ancient wooden bookshelf slid aside, revealing a long secret passage full of antique paintings. The candles in the dark passage burned automatically one by one as the air was poured in, and the flames were bright. The candlelight shone on the painting, illuminating countless images that would never appear before the eyes of believers.
This was the history hidden by the Holy Court.
About the Gods, the Millennium Kingdom, and the Battle of Judgment.
For a thousand years, the Holy Court had carefully hidden them. Even within the Holy Court, it was also top secret.
The Pope walked in and walked along the corridor. The ancient scenes were painted with unknown pigments. Even after such a long time, the color was still as bright as ever. All the old gods of the countries along the Abyss Strait and the kingdoms of the Hopeless Inner Sea were painted, and there were many forgotten old gods, each of whom stood high in the sky with weapons. The world was divided into three layers, sky, ground and underground. The sky was the realm of the gods and the bright side of the world. There were towering buildings that were unimaginably suspended in the sky. The ground was the human world, a place where light and darkness intersect. There were all kinds of mortals, good and evil. The bottom was hell, which was the dark side of the world, with red fire, sulfur, black rock and wasteland, where demons entangled and fought like snakes.
In that era, the representatives of the gods mixed with the dark creatures of hell on the ground at the same time. The human world had become the most complicated melting pot in the world.
In the middle of the corridor was a scene depicting the eve of the destruction of the ancient city of Belice, and the wise man Percival deciphered an ancient language.
The clouds in the sky were as red as blood, the abyss on the sea was boiling, the thick fog was raging in the darkness, and countless shadows intertwined. From top to bottom, they were all shrouded in a terrible atmosphere of depression. Above the ancient city of Belice, dark clouds piled up like mountains, and thunder swam among them like snakes and dragons.
The elders of the ancient city knelt on the square, the crowd avoided the wise man at a far distance away, and even his disciples were afraid to touch him. Only the skinny wise man held the ancient scroll in his hand, driven by some kind of power, and read out the terrifying and eternal prophecy word by word… or perhaps it was a curse.
"The earth will turn forever, and the humblest one will dominate the cemetery. The lowly will be at the top, and the lofty will be at the bottom. An endless cycle, like two sides of a coin, changing forever."
After this prophecy was interpreted, the storm fell suddenly, and the thunder destroyed the ancient city of Belice.
After that, there would be endless wars. Sometimes it was a war between gods and gods, sometimes it was a war between gods and demons, and sometimes it was a war between demons and demons. In the turmoil of war, human beings were like a duckweed in the waves, being swung from left to right, living in the cracks. Gradually, however, human silhouettes began to join the battle.
And from then on, a shadow of the throne began to appear in the sky, and it gradually became distinct. All races, all beings, strove to climb to it.
The middle of the corridor was a long stretch of blankness, and the Pope walked past the empty wall and came to the end of the corridor.
There was the last painting there.
The Pope stood in front of the last painting, admiring it with his head thrown back.
In the image, there were no longer any distinct camps in the battle, and it seemed that the true face of the world remained only fighting.
Gods fought with gods, gods fought with demons, gods fought with mortals, mortals fought with demons, demons fought with demons... Finally, mortals fought with mortals. In the sky, there was a throne that had just condensed its embryonic form. The throne was empty, and the crown was being broken and destroyed under the blood-red moon.
This was a sad painting, which captured the world's greatest irony, the bloodiest battlefield, the most tragic death, and the most shameful betrayal.
"How can humans rely on gods to save themselves?"
The Pope looked at the painting and said softly.
Apart from him, there was no one else in the secret passageway. The history and truth were hidden in these shocking paintings, and time seemed to be quite brittle and dry here.
………………
Night gradually fell.
The Devil walked in the night, roaming the streets and alleys of Metzl Castle. For once he did not appear directly in the King's room, and took a walk in the King's capital city for the first time instead.
He didn't deliberately hide himself. Passing drunks and night watchmen, these urban night-stalkers saw a strange nocturnal traveler who seemed to them an oddity——tall and lean, in an elegant black suit, holding an open black umbrella. Under the black umbrella, one could see a scarlet rose pinned to his chest.
A drunk stood in front of him with a wine jar.
This unlucky guy, whose act was enough to make the whole of hell applaud him, had the dubious honor of encountering him face to face. Skin pale enough he did not seem to be alive, cheekbones high and menacingly hollowed. This was a fellow who, although handsome, was so sinister that even the most dissolute courtesan would not want to approach.
His pupils were so dark that it seemed that nothing could be reflected within, and all the light would be swallowed by the utterly malicious darkness.
The Devil passed by the drunken homeless man without a sound, and the guy behind him fell straight down after he passed by. All eyes peeping at this elegant "fat sheep" in the darkness disappeared in an instant.
A city.
The city of mortals, the city of His Majesty.
The slightest sound in the city traveled into the Devil's ears.
Good, bad, chaotic... All emperors monarchs know that no matter how great they were and how much they love their people, there would always be people who would yell at them and criticize them in every possible way in their country.
His Majesty should know this.
His Majesty knows this.
The Devil stood on a street, listening to those voices mixed with dissatisfaction for the King, gently rotating the black umbrella in his hand. Since going to the extreme north, the Devil had been suppressing his urge for violence. The thought of wanting to destroy the whole world together could not be calmed down even after the death of the World Serpent.
In fact, it even intensified.
Those things that he didn't want to think of and made him furious were awakened by words uttered during the battle with the World Serpent, which then lingered in his mind.
Once, he failed to catch his Majesty.
………………
The sword of the traitor pierced the King's heart, and the world fell into an endless war. Be it gods, demons, or mortals, they were all fighting to the death in chaos. He crossed half of the battlefield and found his contractor on that deserted beach. The crown in the sky was cracking and shattering, and his soul was disappearing little by little.
"Your Majesty, you violated the contract."
He said hoarsely. He embraced the King from the pool of blood. He was covered in blood, and his King was also covered in blood. The world continued to fight and kill on, while they stood alone in a place where no one cared.
"Your soul should belong to me."
He was not sad, the Devil didn't have that kind of thing. He was just angry, angry that the treasure that belonged to him was destroyed by others.
This should have belonged to him in the end.
Those icy blue eyes reflected the throne and crown in the sky that were gradually crumbling and shattering apart. He didn't answer, but handed the bone scepter to the Devil.
The Devil had been deprived of his name. His power came from the authority of the King, but now the person who gave him power would disappear completely. He would once again become the lonely and angry cursed fellow who was banished to the end of the world long ago.
In this war that almost annihilated everything, the crown and throne have been destroyed, and only the bone scepter was left which was the last symbol of royal authority that had not dissipated.
Now, the King handed it to the Devil.
Why give it to me? The Devil thought, I am a sinister, cunning, vile and shameless devil. With the power of bones, I can tear up the contract. Anyway, you have been completely destroyed. I can't even get a shard of your soul. I don't need to serve you anymore. Or are you counting on a hellish devil to have a conscience and dutifully serve you after you've dissipated?
Don't kid yourself.
"Your Majesty, are you really going to hand over the scepter to a lying devil? Aren't you afraid that your royal city will change its owner?" His voice was as frivolous as ever.
"The heavens have given us the greatest power, but at the same time it requires us to pay the heaviest price to obtain it." The King's pupils still reflected the phantom of the crown that was gradually cracking in the sky, "The contract says that we will overthrow the world together, so then never stop, never lay down your sword... this is an order."
The last order.
The fighting on the battlefield was still going on. Gods were constantly falling, and the lords of hell were constantly dying. In such chaos, the King's voice was almost inaudible.
But the Devil could hear it clearly.
He was stunned for a while.
That was what they vowed when they first met, "Never stop, never lay down the sword".
"Well, if this is your order."
He was quiet for a while, then took the bone scepter.
The sky was dim and the ground was dark, the wind sounded like crying, the world had been reduced to a battlefield, with battles fought everywhere, but it was also as silent as death. He hugged his Majesty and sat on the jagged black stone, watching the long river of sulfur gradually dry up and recede, watching corpses fall one after another. His Majesty was as quiet as he was, eerily quiet.
"...Your Majesty?"
After what seemed like a long time, he called in a low voice.
It should be like usual, His Majesty would only raise his eyes slightly to look over, and was too lazy to answer any way but silently.
The Devil put his hand over the King's eyes.
"Good night, Your Majesty."
………………
He walked to the gate of the palace, stood there for a long time in the slightly cold wind, and then walked in quietly.
Just like that time when he couldn't wait to rush to take the King's soul away, the guards of the palace didn't find him. He walked through the familiar corridors, and finally pushed open the door gently.
Moonlight fell into the room from the window, and fell on the high-backed chair by the window.
The silver-haired, blue-eyed monarch sat on the chair, not yet asleep.
"Should I say 'good night'? My dear Majesty."
The Devil was taken aback for a moment, and said with a smile.
"Then should I say 'Hello'? My knight." The King asked back.
"If you wish."
The King looked at him, at his smiling expression tjat was like an impeccable mask.
"Hello, my knight."