Just as Helos was slowly drifting into sleep on that soft, comfortable bed, changes capable of altering the fates of countless people were unfolding in certain unknown corners of the world.
The night was as dark as ink.
The Fleming Family’s territory was located in the hilly region east of the empire. It was far from the noise and bustle, and on ordinary days it was always exceptionally tranquil. Yet tonight, this viscount’s residence was shrouded in an eerie atmosphere.
On the terrace at the top of the residence, the cold wind howled past, yet it could not even stir a corner of that person’s robe.
The Enlightener stood silently before the railing, his hands clasped behind his back. His deeply sunken eyes were not fixed on the sleeping land below, but on the distant horizon.
There, a bright morning star was twinkling in the night sky, casting a desolate, cold light. The old man’s withered fingers gently stroked the graying beard on his chin as a low, hoarse laugh escaped his throat.
“Finally…”
The laughter echoed through the silent night sky, sounding like the breath of a dying man, yet carrying an indescribable eeriness.
“This day… has finally arrived.”
He slowly turned around. Behind him, two figures stood in the cold wind like lifeless statues. They were Viscount Reginald Fleming and his son, Kelaode.
These father and son nobles, who had once dominated their territory with authority, now seemed like marionettes whose souls had been ripped out.
They stood with heads lowered, reverent, their breathing barely perceptible. When the Enlightener’s gaze swept over them, both raised their heads simultaneously.
In those eyes that should have been full of vitality, there was nothing but a dead, eerie blue. That was not a look a human should possess.
Their souls seemed to have been completely eroded by some will, and this gaze was the emptiness left behind after assimilation.
Within that blue light, there was no self, no emotion—only absolute obedience to the old man before them.
It was as if the one standing before them was not some mysterious mage of unknown origins, but the supreme ruler of this continent, a god to whom they must dedicate everything in servitude.
“Kelaode.”
The Enlightener looked at the once-arrogant red-haired youth, a satisfied smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
“Your performance at the Academy was foolish, but I must say, you truly are a fine chess piece.”
Hearing his name, Kelaode’s body trembled slightly. He stepped forward and knelt on one knee, his movements as precise as a knight receiving his knighthood. The old man’s voice became ethereal, carrying an irresistible power.
“Go to the Imperial Capital. Return to the place where you suffered such humiliation. There is a surprise I have prepared especially for you there. Find it, and then… make the entire Imperial Capital tremble.”
“Yes, teacher.”
Kelaode’s voice was cold, without a hint of hesitation. The Enlightener nodded, then shifted his gaze to Reginald, who stood off to the side.
This father, who had spared no expense to hire a tutor for his son, had now become a discarded pawn in this grand game.
“As for you, Lord Reginald.” The old man said slowly, “You don’t need to join the commotion in the Imperial Capital.
Go and help Lilith instead. That woman may be a bit hasty, but her plan is indeed the most important piece at the moment.”
As he spoke, the Enlightener slowly raised his withered right hand. The moment his palm turned upward, the surrounding space seemed to distort in an instant. Countless specks of light converged in the air.
Then, dozens of crystal balls, each no larger than a glass bead, materialized out of thin air and hovered quietly above his palm.
These crystal balls were completely transparent, but deep within their cores, something seemed to be sealed—a murky gray mist.
That mist churned and surged within the spheres, as if possessing a malevolent life force of its own.
The Enlightener waved his hand, and the crystal balls, as if endowed with sentience, flew slowly to Reginald and dropped into the velvet pouch he had already prepared.
“Take these. Use your connections, use your trade caravans, use every power at your disposal.”
The old man’s gaze grew incredibly sharp, his tone icy.
“No matter what methods you use, I want you to spread these items across all the empire’s important cities in the shortest possible time—especially in densely populated areas. Do you understand?”
Reginald held the heavy pouch in both hands and bowed his head deeply.
“Understood, Your Excellency.”
His reply was brief and forceful, like an execution machine devoid of all emotion. The Enlightener looked at these two thoroughly brainwashed puppets and let out one final soft laugh.
Then his figure began to blur, and like smoke scattered by the wind, it slowly faded away from the terrace.
Only the father and son remained, still maintaining their reverent postures, standing in the biting cold wind, waiting for the dawn.
***
Meanwhile, in Orissa City.
Though the night was deep, as the host of the winter festival, the city remained brightly lit.
The fountain in the square shifted colors under the glow of the magic lamps, water droplets splashing and refracting a bewildering halo of light.
Mi Ya was sitting on the edge of the massive Wishing Pool at the center of the square.
She had taken off her shoes, and her fair, delicate feet were soaking in the cool pool water, gently swinging back and forth, stirring up tiny ripples.
This nun with chestnut-colored short hair and emerald-green eyes was resting her chin on her hand, watching with an amused expression the tourists who refused to leave even at this late hour.
Suddenly, she seemed to sense something. A flash of surprise passed through those jade-clear eyes.
“Oh? Faster than expected?”
“So Lilith wasn’t bluffing after all. This is even quicker than I imagined.”
Muttering to herself, she turned around and looked at the food stalls still open around the square. Steaming roasted meat, sweet and soft pastries, and that warm wine brewed with special spices.
Tourists held all kinds of food in their hands, their faces beaming with happy, contented smiles as they reveled in the approaching festive atmosphere.
Mi Ya’s gaze lingered on those foods and drinks for a long time. She watched a child take a big bite of bread, watched a couple share the same cup of hot drink, watched an old man down his soup in one gulp.
Deep within the nun’s green pupils, a subtle yet hair-raising smile flickered. That smile held no kindness whatsoever—it was like an artist admiring their own masterpiece, carrying a twisted sense of satisfaction.
But she didn’t say anything more, nor did she make any conspicuous moves. She simply withdrew her feet from the pool, put on her shoes, and straightened out her plain nun’s habit. Mi Ya stretched and hopped down from the edge of the pool.
“Well…”
“The stage is set, and the audience has taken their seats.”
“Next up, it’s time for our esteemed Her Holiness the saint to make her grand entrance~”
***
Outside the city, on the main road heading north.
In the darkness of the night, a figure completely shrouded in a voluminous cloak was walking alone. Lilith stopped in her tracks.
She raised her head, and through the gap in her hood, those wine-red eyes looked one last time at the brilliantly lit city behind her.
The silhouette of Orissa City appeared especially magnificent under the night sky, those flickering lights like countless beating hearts, full of vitality and energy. But Lilith knew that all this splendor and beauty would soon turn to ashes.
She took a deep breath, the frigid night wind filling her lungs, calming her restless heart just a little. Her brows were slightly furrowed, and there was no great joy or excitement in her eyes. For her, none of this was the goal itself, but a necessary means.
It was also the price that must be paid to welcome the arrival of a greater era. Therefore, she did not linger for long. Lilith withdrew her gaze and resumed her steps.
Her figure quickly merged into the shadows on both sides of the road, as if she had never been there at all.
She was now making the final preparations for the plan. Every link, every detail needed to be personally confirmed and deployed by her.
She had no time to savor the joy of what was to come.
Deep within the Demon Territory lay a forbidden zone for the living—the Realm of Flame and Death. The endless range of black volcanoes spewed smoke and toxic fumes year-round.
Dark red magma flowed and converged across the cracked earth like the blood of the land itself, forming wide rivers of molten rock.
The temperature here was terrifyingly high, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of sulfur. Any ordinary creature that even approached this place would be baked into a dried corpse by the heat.
Gurgle… gurgle…
In the center of a boiling lake of magma, a violent burst of bubbles suddenly rose to the surface. Immediately after, a towering figure of crimson red slowly emerged from the scorching magma.
Judging by his appearance, he seemed to be a member of Demonkind. His stature was nearly 3 meters tall, and his entire body was covered in armor as hard and thick as obsidian.
That armor was not worn—it had grown directly from his flesh and blood, with golden-red magma veins flowing across its surface.
His upper body was bare, muscles knotted, each one containing terrifying power capable of destroying mountains. And on his shoulder rested a giant sword of exaggerated design.
The sword was pitch black, its blade wreathed in a fierce murderous aura that even magma could not conceal.
He ignored the heat that could melt steel, walking step by step from the center of the magma lake to the shore.
With every step he took, the magma instantly cooled and solidified into a hard shell of rock. When he stepped onto the solid black earth, the ground trembled beneath him.
The demon raised his head. In his crimson eyes, there were no pupils—only two blazing fires burning fiercely. That was real flame, not merely a metaphor.
Those flames burned with endless battle lust and brutality, as if a single glance would set your very soul ablaze.
Hoo—
He let out a long breath. Blazing white smoke burst from his mouth and nostrils, sizzling in the air.
This demon was no ordinary warrior. He was the strongest warrior under the Demon King.
He was also the terrifying being who had personally slain the previous generation’s “Envoy of Valor” and devoured all of the opponent’s power and memories.
It was said that his current power was even a few degrees stronger than the current Demon King’s. Now, he was both a Great General of the Demon Race and the new envoy—the Envoy of War.
“What the hell are those guys doing?”
He looked east, toward the direction of the Human Empire. In those fire-blazing eyes, a flicker of confusion and impatience passed. He could sense that the aura over there was growing more and more chaotic.
“That old coot Enlightener is always muttering his nonsense, and that woman Phantom spends all day playing with people.”
“Oh, right, and there’s that little madwoman who loves brewing potions.”
“I don’t want to take part in those people’s plans, but at the moment… trouble seems to be coming to find me on its own.”
“What a pain.”
The Envoy of War drove the great sword from his shoulder heavily into the ground. The earth instantly split apart, forming a crack with no visible bottom.
“Maybe I should just…”
“Kill them all.”