Chapter 226 – Sangus

As the saying goes, while the tree desires stillness, the wind refuses to cease. The Dillon Kingdom was now like a withered tree swaying violently in a fierce gale. The only reason it hadn’t been torn apart by the storms assaulting it from all sides was its sheer size. Even though its trunk had been corroded into a hollow shell, its roots anchored deep in rock kept it from collapsing immediately.

But… what if even these massive roots were to fracture and crumble?

During this Nightwalkers mission, Punk and his companions were active in the western region of the Dillon Kingdom. However, a great battle that erupted in the royal capital of the Dillon Kingdom was no less intense than the schemes and intrigues in the Western Wilderness. In fact, the ferocity and scope of this conflict far surpassed the battles fought by Punk and his group.

Rewind to one day earlier, in the Dillon Kingdom’s royal capital “Beaconfire City”—Cliffhorn City.

This metropolis, which had served as the royal capital since the founding of the Dillon Kingdom and maintained at least two hundred thousand permanent residents even during its lowest points, had lost all traces of its former prosperity.

The city walls, once painted with the Dillon Kingdom’s national flag, were now cracked in numerous places. The streets that used to be bustling with endless streams of pedestrians now contained only smoking craters. The stone buildings that once stood throughout the city had either collapsed or been reduced to rubble. Looking across the vast city, not a single intact structure could be found.

The entire eastern part of the higher-elevated “Cliffhorn” appeared as if someone had taken a bite out of it, with one-tenth of the city’s area transformed into a deep impact crater. Molten lava and sudden lightning flashes within the crater created dazzling displays of destructive beauty.

Approximately ten thousand survivors stood on the high mountains outside Cliffhorn, staring blankly at their home that had become ruins. Some couldn’t help but kneel on the ground, weeping uncontrollably, while others sorrowfully prayed to their worshipped deities.

Regardless of how the survivors reacted, they couldn’t return to “Cliffhorn City” for the time being, even though the battle here was drawing to a close…

Deep within that massive crater, a humanoid figure clad in shattered armor clutched his severed right arm while glaring venomously at a charred, barely recognizable “organic mass” on the ground, letting out a cold laugh.

Without doubt, this was Kasparqi, who had achieved a pyrrhic victory.

“Haha, haha, hahahaha, Archmage Sanggesi, this… this is the power of divinity! This is the radiance of Dawn! Your heretical tricks… pant… are utterly… worthless!”

“I’ve won! I’ve won! Good shall always triumph over evil! Light shall always conquer darkness! Even you—the former ‘Earthsplitter’ Sangus—could not withstand this sacred purification!”

Kasparqi tremblingly raised a pristine white short staff in his hand. The glow from the crystalline gem at its tip seemed to celebrate his victory, though his injuries were scarcely better than Sangus’s. Without the support of this staff, Kasparqi would have long since collapsed to the ground.

“Cough… cough! Young man, is this what you call victory? Is this the ‘goodness’ of the Church of Dawn? In our battle, at least over a hundred thousand innocent commoners have perished! Is this the goodness you speak of?!”Lying motionless on the ground, Sangus spoke hoarsely through his parched, charred throat, his voice devoid of any inflection, as if a robot reciting lines.

“Hmph, it is their honor to sacrifice for the victory of our Lord,” Kasparqi exclaimed fervently, placing his pristine short staff against his chest and striking a solemn pose as he declared:

“As for kindness… I grant these heretics a dignified death, freeing them from living on as heretics. Could anything be more kind than this?”

As Kasparqi spoke, his short staff unexpectedly radiated a holy glow that began healing his body. This light, which only affected those of good alignment, showed no rejection toward Kasparqi.

Seeing Kasparqi’s condition, Sangus—who seemed on the verge of death at any moment—let out a heavy sigh:

“Ah! I was foolish to try discussing kindness with a brainwashed zealot like you from the Church? I’ve grown old, so old!”

“Silence! You will pay for your slanderous words.”

Hearing Sangus’s remarks, Kasparqi bristled like a lion whose tail had been stepped on.

But Sangus, collapsed on the ground, remained undisturbed by Kasparqi’s outburst. He continued murmuring to himself with detached calm:

“Pay? I’ve paid too many prices already. I underestimated the enemy and lost everything. There’s nothing left for me to pay with. The downfall of this kingdom I founded is inevitable—what could possibly count as a price for a wretched old man like me?”

Sangus’s muttering was indistinct, low, and raspy, and the dazed Kasparqi beside him couldn’t make out what his opponent was saying. Not that he cared about Sangus’s final words anyway. His sole purpose in advancing to Master-Level and immediately engaging in this bloody fight with Sangus was to kill him. Whether he survived or not, the Church of Dawn’s takeover of the entire Dillon Kingdom would be assured.

As Kasparqi gradually shuffled closer, Sangus slowly turned his scorched skull—charred down to the bone—and met Kasparqi’s single remaining eye with a psychic gaze.

“Hehehe… A single spark can start a prairie fire, and death is but the beginning of rebirth… I’ve long been prepared… hehe…”

“Nonsense! In the name of the great Lord of the Dawn, I pronounce you guilty! Now! Die!”

Kasparqi only vaguely saw Sangus’s throat trembling and immediately assumed he was still cursing. Proclaiming the holy name of the Lord of the Dawn, he raised his short staff high and aimed it at Sangus’s head.

“Hehe… Lord of the Dawn… hehehe, so-called zealots are indeed the most skilled deceivers. You’ve fooled others and even yourself. Now… this old man… should help you sober up… hehehe!”

Gazing at Kasparqi enveloped in solar radiance, Sangus cracked a smile with his blackened lips. With his last ounce of strength, he used his right hand—now reduced to two fingers—to violently tear open his own chest.

The flesh seared by high temperatures barely bled as Sangus ripped away half of his ribcage in one forceful motion.The old man’s body contained not only no heart or lungs, but no other internal organs at all. Within his crimson thoracic cavity floated only a crystal-clear yet dull and lusterless crystal ball, covered with fine cracks.

The instant the old man opened his thoracic cavity, the previously lifeless crystal ball suddenly ignited like burning magnesium, erupting with violent energy fluctuations that burst forth like a volcano.

Amid the blazing high-temperature radiance, Sangus let out a final sigh that seemed to emanate from his very soul.

“Alas! Now… I have exhausted all my capabilities, what a pity, what a pity…!”

Welcome to join group 548859662

(End of Chapter)