Chapter 267 - 253: Giant God Enters the City, the Vanishing "Carina

Chapter 267: Chapter 253: Giant God Enters the City, the Vanishing "Carina

The city had fallen.

Amidst the cheers of the crowd, the massive Anti-Magic Stone gate of Heta County City, carved with the image of a Red Vulture, slowly rose. It revealed a series of layered portcullises behind it, enchanted with countless Defense Magic spells.

Seeing this, a flicker of relief passed through the eyes of many nobles.

If not for the insiders who had seized the gate mechanism from within, they couldn’t imagine the sacrifice it would have taken to breach a gate so fortified it was practically built with money.

Compared to that, it might have been more realistic to just use ladders to scale the walls.

Fortunately, that scenario never came to pass, saving them a great deal of trouble.

All that was left now was to storm Red Crying Castle, drag out the mad Count who had started the rebellion, and hand him over to the Empire for judgment. Then this war, which had nearly torn Heta County apart, would finally be over!

And they, the heroes who had suppressed the rebellion, could rightfully claim their just rewards!

Driven by this motive, the soldiers, holding aloft the various banners of their noble houses, scrambled to surge through the gateway, each desperate for their lord’s glory to be the first to fly over this mighty city!

The passage into the city was instantly choked to a standstill. Chaos spread like a plague, and the faint sounds of shouting and shoving could be heard as soldiers fought for a path forward.

Beside this tumultuous flood of soldiers, however, Jon reined in his Mechanical Warhorse.

He showed no intention of joining Paris and the other commanders. Instead, he watched the chaotic scene before him and let out a soft, cold snort.

"Just as I thought. That fool Paris hasn’t placed any restraints on the soldiers."

Beside him, Dolores, who was perched on the shoulder of a [Guardian] with Esra, glanced toward the city gate and asked curiously.

"So, Boss, what do we do now?"

Jon glanced at the Ranger Maiden, whose posture made her look like she was performing acrobatics, and his voice cut clearly through the din.

"To reach Red Crying Castle, we have to cross the entire County City. The rebel forces won’t just sit back and wait for death. Endless street fighting will significantly slow down the allied army, and who knows what kind of trouble will stir up in the meantime."

"So, we’re going to the cathedral. We’ll get the Defender Army there to come out and maintain order."

"Your Highness?"

Hearing this, Leona, who was riding alongside him, frowned slightly.

She spurred her warhorse closer to Jon’s side and frankly voiced her confusion.

"The Sun Church here didn’t even lift a finger to stop Count Heta’s rebellion. They’re clearly adhering to their tenet of not interfering in secular affairs. Will they really intervene?"

"They will."

Jon’s reply was short and certain.

Leona paused, taken aback for a moment, then straightened her back.

She didn’t know how Jon could give such a confident answer.

As the commander of a national order of Knights, she had some understanding of the Harvia Empire’s political landscape and knew just how wary the country was of the Church meddling in politics.

But if this plan succeeded, it would undoubtedly reduce civilian casualties amidst the chaos of the army, which aligned perfectly with the knightly creed she followed—to protect the weak and uphold the light.

She gazed at Jon’s back, as straight and steadfast as a mountain on his horse, and her heart filled with emotion.

’His Highness Jon may be calculating in his actions, but deep down, he is a kind person, willing to act for the sake of the common people. He is truly the son of the Grand Princess...’

’If she could see him now, she would be so proud...’

These thoughts flashed through her mind and were instantly replaced by a resolute cry.

"Warriors of Apollonia, did you hear His Highness Jon’s command! We’re going to the cathedral to summon the Defender Army and restore order!"

"Yes! As His Highness commands!"

In fact, it wasn’t just Leona; the remaining Radiant Knights also strongly agreed with this order.

If they had served Jon before out of respect for his bloodline and their commitment to loyalty, now they were finally getting to know the true character hidden beneath the cold-faced prince’s mask.

As for Jon, he hadn’t thought about it as much as Leona and the others imagined.

He had a more important reason for going to the cathedral, of course; calling for backup to maintain order was merely a convenient side-effect. But there was no need to explain such things.

He simply nodded and urged his Mechanical Warhorse forward.

The moment their leader moved, the entire contingent followed suit without needing further orders.

Under the control of Esra and her apprentices, several [Gun Cavalry] and [Walkers] formed a steel column and started moving, surging forward like a silent torrent.

Meanwhile, Dolores stood on the shoulder of a [Guardian], waving her arms and shouting at the top of her lungs, borrowing the might of the machines.

"Make way! Make way! Giant God Workshop coming through!"

As steel collided with stone with a dull THUD-THUD, the soldiers packed together up ahead felt an unstoppable force surging up from behind them.

However, before their angry and startled shouts could escape their lips, they were suppressed by the cold, oppressive formation of Mechanical Bodies.

They recognized the insignia: a giant fist clutching a gear.

Compared to the owner of that insignia, even their own lords would pale in comparison, to say nothing of mere grunts like them.

For a moment, even the chaos had to make way for this contingent.

The silver-gray torrent forcefully sliced through the crowd and poured into the open city gates.

A chilling wind rushed out to meet them, carrying an even thicker air of deathly silence from within the city.

Jon’s gaze swept over the ruined houses on both sides and the scattered figures that scurried away in panic. Then, it settled directly on the northwest of the city—where the spire of the Sun Church was faintly visible against the lead-gray sky.

And farther away, built into the mountainside, Red Crying Castle resembled a dormant beast, its entirely red brick structure looking like a congealed scab under the oppressive sky.

"Let’s go," he said.

...

TAP... TAP...

Nasir’s figure moved rapidly through the dark corridors of Red Crying Castle, his hollow footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls, mingling with the distant clamor of the city’s fall.

His pale face was expressionless, save for the deep gravity in his eyes.

’Finally, the plan has reached its most critical juncture...’

However, when he pushed open the half-closed ebony door to the study, he did not see the purple figure who controlled everything.

"Governor... my lord?"

The empty room answered with dead silence, making the Mage Consultant’s heart sink.

’The Governor... is gone?’

’At this most crucial moment?’

But just then, a cold, vast, and unquestionable will poured into his mind without warning, like an invisible Ice Cone piercing his skull!

Nasir’s entire body convulsed. His pupils shrank to pinpricks as he let out a pained grunt, his fingers digging into the doorframe.

The will brought a clear command—"Go and do what you must"!

After a brief dizzy spell, Nasir bared his teeth and forced his pain-hunched back straight.

He took a deep breath, struck his chest with his fist, and replied solemnly to the empty study.

"Your subordinate obeys!"

Without a moment’s hesitation, he spun around and sprinted toward the Lord’s Hall deep within the castle, where the former Count was imprisoned, his pace even more hurried than before.

Inside the Lord’s Hall, the fireplace had long since gone out, leaving only a pile of cold embers. A thick, indescribable stench hung in the air—a mixture of sweet, cloying rot and sulfur.

In the center of the hall, the throne that once symbolized the supreme power of the Heta family was now occupied by a massive, pulsating "ball of flesh" that emitted a dark red glow.

Compared to a few hours ago, this "thing" had swelled to an even more terrifying size.

It nearly filled the entire dais, its surface covered in a thin, almost transparent "eggshell" webbed with twisted, gnarled blood vessels. Through this fragile membrane, one could vaguely see countless malformed organs spasming and writhing madly within, trying to break free.

Clearly, the man who was once Nerva Heta could no longer respond to the outside world.

Of course, Nasir no longer needed any response from this "Lord Count."

Wasting no more time, he reverently took a glove from his coat. It was made of a material that was neither cloth nor leather, cool and slick to the touch, and it was a pure, dark crimson, as if soaked in congealed blood.

He took a deep breath, as if making final preparations for some blasphemous ritual, and then slowly slid his hand into the grotesque glove.

The glove seemed to come alive, instantly clinging to his skin and greedily drawing his body heat.

A sinister, cold, and powerful energy spread up his arm, making him shudder involuntarily.

Suppressing his discomfort, he stepped onto the dais and walked straight up to the pulsating ball of flesh.

No incantations, no gestures.

Nasir simply extended the hand wearing the crimson glove and gently touched the tip of his index finger to the violently throbbing "eggshell," which was as thin as a cicada’s wing.

HUMMMMM—!

A dull, strange resonance suddenly rang out, like a sigh from the abyss.

Where his fingertip touched, a ripple of dark red, as viscous as blood, instantly spread out, devouring the original gray transparency at astonishing speed!

The fragile "eggshell" was splattered with what looked like filthy, thick ink, rapidly becoming dark, heavy, and solid. Countless thicker, more twisted, dark-red veins, like living things, grew frantically across the thickening surface, draping the horrifying ball of flesh in blasphemous armor woven from congealed blood and abyssal thorns.

The entire process took only a few breaths. When the "egg" was completely dyed a dark, bloody color, Nasir snatched his hand back and staggered a step away as if he’d been burned.

He gasped for air, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his face was even paler than before, taking on a weak, ashen hue.

He glanced down at the finally formed, dark-red giant egg, which pulsed with a terrifying pressure. There was no pity or awe in his eyes, only a trace of imperceptible exhaustion.

He removed the glove, put it back in his coat, and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, murmuring softly.

"Lord Count, enjoy your new life..."

With that, he turned without hesitation and quickly left the Lord’s Hall, which was filled with an air of despair and blasphemy, his steps now somewhat heavy.

The heavy hall doors slowly closed behind him, sealing the blood-red giant egg, which was now gestating some unknown terror, away in the dead, silent darkness.