Chapter 468 - 429: Blood-Stained Golden Radiance Avenue (Part 2)

Chapter 468: Chapter 429: Blood-Stained Golden Radiance Avenue (Part 2)

The commander froze, his mouth hanging open. He, a dignified Count, found himself utterly unable to voice a single word of rebuttal before the Captain of the Guard.

"The plague has been resurgent in the city lately, causing widespread panic." The Captain of the Guard lifted his chin slightly, his gaze passing over the commander’s head to the terrified crowd in the distance. "Furthermore, His Highness is deeply concerned about the rumors that the bishop was ’poisoned’ to death last night. Until the truth is ascertained, our focus must be on apprehending the killer. Anyone who does otherwise shows disrespect to both royal and divine authority—those are His Highness’s exact words."

His gaze, sharp as a blade, bore down on the commander.

"Lock down the district borders. Forbid anyone from this side to cross over, and forbid anyone from that side to come here."

The Captain of the Guard extended a hand, pointing first toward the Templar Order, then toward the sea of flames in the Lower City District.

"His Highness’s order is ’quarantine,’ not ’slaughter.’ My Lord Count, think very carefully about how you will execute that order. Do you understand?"

But the commander, despite being dressed down so publicly, felt only a tinge of disappointment, not the slightest bit of anger.

’This is putting the Church’s feet to the fire.’

’Not allowing the army to intervene means the Church will have to face this mess alone. And that excuse about "investigating the truth of the poisoning"... it’s a clear signal that the royal family intends to oppose the Church this time!’

"I... I understand!" The commander gritted his teeth and gave a solemn military salute. "Please relay to His Highness that I will see it done, and done beautifully!"

The Captain of the Guard glanced at the commander’s subservient, fearful expression, nodded, and walked back to his carriage. He paused just before stepping inside.

"Good. Don’t disappoint His Highness. Otherwise... you know the consequences."

As the black carriage slowly departed, the executioner’s blade, which had been poised to fall, froze in mid-air.

Inside the Cathedral of Holy Brilliance, over a kilometer away.

Archbishop Edmond stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the Cardinal’s Hall, gazing down at the half of the city engulfed in a sea of flames.

The glass reflected his face, so grim it seemed to drip with darkness.

"Archbishop, we’ve lost contact with all seventeen parishes in the Lower City District." The Grand Inquisitor stood behind him, his voice trembling. "Those rioters are insane! They’re burning ledgers and plundering Holy Artifacts. If we don’t dispatch the Templar Order to break through and suppress them..."

"Suppress them?" Edmond scoffed, whirling around. "How? Willandar has turned the city garrison into mere ’spectators’! Without the army to clear the path, if our Knights charge into that quagmire of a Lower City District on their own, it’s doubtful they’ll even make it back in one piece! Don’t forget, we still don’t have a single clue about the assassin who poisoned Moros without anyone knowing! We’re exposed, while the enemy hides in the shadows!"

It wasn’t just anger he felt in that moment, but a deep-seated chill.

At the critical juncture when the Church was frantically searching for the poisoner, the nobles had done a complete one-eighty, their attitude becoming appallingly firm. They’d even used the "poisoning investigation" as a pretext to lock down the districts.

It was too much of a coincidence.

So coincidental, in fact, that Edmond couldn’t help but suspect this was a coordinated hunt, a conspiracy from within and without.

’What if that mysterious poisoner and the King’s party are in this together?’

’What if the rioters are just bait? A ploy to lure the tiger from the mountain, tricking the Knight Order into the muck of the Lower City District, leaving the Cathedral’s leadership vulnerable to the assassin hiding in the shadows?’

At this thought, Edmond instinctively touched his own throat. The ghastly image of Moros’s stomach bursting open before he died was seared into his mind. Until he understood the nature and origin of that bizarre poison, he absolutely could not expose himself to any risk.

’So-called dignity, the so-called parishes of the Lower City District... they are worthless when survival is on the line.’

’As long as our people survive, as long as the "roots" of our core techniques remain, what does temporary forbearance matter? Once I’ve retreated to safety, even if it takes a year to break the secret of that poison, when I return for vengeance, everyone—rioters and the King’s party alike—will pay the price.’

Edmond’s gaze swept over the sealed doors of the Holy Vault in the center of the grand hall.

There lay the very foundation of the Church’s survival: the precision surgical instruments used to maintain the "Stigmata," and the most recently cultivated batches of samples.

’They absolutely cannot be lost.’

’If the worst comes to pass, if we can’t even hold the cathedral...’

"Abandon it all."

Edmond closed his eyes. As the three words left his lips, his voice held no despair, only the cold ruthlessness of sacrificing a limb to survive.

"What?" The Grand Inquisitor thought he’d misheard.

"I said abandon the Lower City District, and prepare to abandon the cathedral itself!" Edmond’s eyes snapped open as he issued a rapid-fire command. "Forget those mud-legged peasants. Notify the core clergy to open the Ashen Passage immediately."

"You mean... the secret passage to Fort St. George outside the city?" The Grand Inquisitor’s face paled. "But if we evacuate, what about the vaults of Gold Coins and grain..."

"If we can’t take it, burn it! Don’t leave a single grain of wheat for those peasants!" Edmond cut him off sharply. He then lowered his voice, his tone turning bone-chillingly cold. "Listen to me. Take all the core codices and relics from the secret vault. Most importantly—gather all the research on the ’Stigmata,’ including every last scalpel used for the implantation surgery and every vial of nutrient fluid. Pack it all up and take it with you!"

Edmond turned his back to the firelight outside the window. Shadows fell across his face, swallowing his features into darkness.

"We are going to rip out the true ’heart’ of the Church, take it from the Royal Capital, and transport it to the safest fortress we have."

His voice, low and resolute, echoed through the room.

"As for this place... since Willandar and those rioters want it so badly, we’ll leave them an empty city." He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Once I uncover the truth about that poisoner and eliminate this hidden danger... I will make them get on their knees and beg me to bring God back."

For now, his task was to escape this potential death trap with his most important assets intact.

Edmond snapped his head up, his gaze traveling past the window frame toward the distant skyline, stained red by the glow of the fires—

In his vision, that red glow stretched and distorted, finally coalescing into the deepest shade of blood-red against Zelheim’s pre-dawn sky.

Golden Radiance Avenue lay like a freshly formed scar, splitting this bloody tableau into two starkly different worlds.

On one side, smoldering ruins and broken walls reeked of ash and char. On the other, the brightly lit but deathly still Holy Hall District, its towering spires like swords pointing coldly at the heavens.

And at the top of an abandoned opera house bell tower, looking back in the direction these "swords" pointed, stood a lone figure.

Velin gazed down at the divided city.

The night wind whipped unimpeded through the bell tower’s skeletal frame, making the hem of his coat snap and flutter.

He watched the divided city, a mix of satisfaction and concern in his heart.

’The physical idols may have fallen, but the true god isn’t dead.’

’That old fox Edmond is even more decisive than I imagined, willing to sacrifice a limb to ensure his own survival.’

Velin rubbed his knuckles, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

’I’d even prepared a few more insidious "side dishes." They were a bit extreme, but they would have allowed me to devour the Church, bones and all. A shame. Edmond’s instincts are too sharp. He was willing to cripple his own power just to escape the encirclement, making all my follow-up plans useless.’

’Still, it’s no great loss.’

’Once a fissure like this is created, it can never be sealed.’

’The seeds of fear have been sown, and the roots of suspicion have burrowed deep into this land.’

"My lord."

A faint sound came from behind him.

Xiaolan materialized from the shadows without a sound, a cloth sack still dripping blood in her hand.

"Cleanup complete. All the ’informants’ have been taken care of."

Those were the Church’s eyes and ears in the Lower City District.

Velin didn’t turn around, merely nodding.

"Good work."

He reached out, as if to grasp the first ray of the approaching dawn.

"And so ends the second act."

Velin spoke softly, his voice scattering on the wind.

"Now, it’s time for the true protagonist to take the stage."