Chapter 199
Chapter 199
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 199 – Lan Qi Changed the World’s Version
Sitting in Talia’s cozy little cabin, Huperion let out a breath of relief.
“Lan Qi, thank you… for saving me once again.”
“Huperion, don’t worry. As long as you’ve latched onto Talia’s thigh, unless a bishop himself storms into Hedon’s capital, you won’t be in any danger.”
Lan Qi looked at Huperion. Even after Phoenix’s interrogation, her mood still hadn’t eased.
“…But the southern continent… I fear it won’t remain peaceful much longer.”
Huperion nodded, speaking softly.
Besides the scraps of intelligence they had wrung out of Stisela—the Rebirth cultist they subdued in the Banquet of the Cathedral Villains shadow-world—Phoenix also knew of faint signs pointing to “Destruction Bishop Ivanos and Decay Bishop Farmer acting in concert.”
And from this assassination plan, it was clear enough: the two bishops sought to quietly sabotage the relationship between the Hedon Kingdom and the Yaloran Kingdom.
No doubt they were already plotting terrible schemes targeting both nations.
Lan Qi had also told Huperion: once the blood clan secured full control over the Kreyth Empire, their first act would be to launch a war—on one hand to consume the factions within the empire still harboring dissent toward the blood race, on the other to swallow more kingdoms, seize resources, and raise humans like cattle.
If the southernmost empire wasn’t at peace…
And the southern continent’s cardinals were already restless…
Then the war destined to erupt in the south was only accelerating.
By then, it wouldn’t just be Huperion’s personal crisis—it would be the entire Hedon Kingdom that stood at the brink.
“When we hide in the northern continent during winter break, your Fifth Death Star omen should be delayed. To the Resurrection Church, we’ll have disappeared completely—there’s no way they’d imagine we switched identities and infiltrated their headquarters in the north. But… once we return to the south, your fifth crisis may well be the southern continent’s great war.”
Lan Qi admitted helplessly.
He counted—it should already be four times.
Because he kept saving Huperion, the original story’s plotline had shifted. Now it seemed the blood race and the Resurrection Church might alter their own decisions because Huperion had lived far longer than fated—like a butterfly effect.
Gathering together the information only he knew, along with the intelligence they had gleaned from cultists…
Lan Qi realized that Huperion’s survival might trigger this outcome:
The blood race would launch their war earlier, and more desperately.
“If the south is engulfed in full-scale war led by the mighty Kreyth Empire, while the Resurrection Church launches targeted strikes from the shadows, the whole continent will plunge into chaos…”
Huperion muttered.
The southern continent had over a hundred nations—great and small. Beyond the vast but mountain-sealed Kreyth Empire, there were also the strong Hedon Kingdom, Yaloran Kingdom, and Canberra Kingdom, as well as countless weaker states, duchies, and marquisates near the north.
“When the empire invades northward, some small neighbors will probably surrender outright. Countries like Hedon and Yaloran will ally. Of course, some will cling to neutrality, just waiting and watching.”
Lan Qi spoke like a prophet, laying out his foresight for Huperion.
He knew perfectly well what a war in the south would look like.
In the main story of the future, the southern continent was indeed a time of chaos.
And in such chaos, every top-tier powerhouse mattered.
Seventh-rank, eighth-rank powerhouses could sway the outcome of entire large-scale battles.
An eighth-rank alone could surpass the might of an army.
For a fourth-rank like Lan Qi, this was a version far too ahead of his level.
He could strike at blood clan specifically, but against human elites of seventh-rank or higher, he had no way to “exploit the system.”
From fifth-rank onwards, the stat gaps between levels widened massively, and higher-tier cards carried unreasonable, monstrous effects.
Even among equals, the differences grew stark.
Put simply: the higher the level, the bigger the gap between whales and ordinary players.
Take Ivanos, the Destruction Bishop—if no multiple eighth-ranks stopped him, he alone could slaughter an entire duchy.
If he ever reached ninth-rank, he’d truly become a god of calamity who wielded life and death freely.
To frame it in game terms: eighth-rank roughly equaled level 80–89. Even within that span, an 80 could be worlds apart from an 89, yet both fell under “eighth-rank.”
From 89 to 90 required astronomical experience. That single level meant breaking into ninth-rank—capable of wielding world-ending ninth-rank cards.
By that stage, innate growth differences became glaring. Orange epic and pink sacred card setups were largely fixed. Counter-relationships between professions and schools were also starkly defined.
That’s why sometimes an 80 could beat an 89.
Of course—
In the real world, there was no literal “level” concept.
Lan Qi was only borrowing terms from the game of his past life, which seemed almost modeled after this world.
“…If only father were still in the Hedon Kingdom…”
Huperion lowered her head, murmuring.
Whenever this came up, she thought of her father.
“Yes. If Duke Migaya were still alive, Hedon would have at least a quasi-bishop-tier powerhouse.”
Lan Qi sighed.
“Quasi-bishop-tier…?”
Huperion looked at him curiously.
“That’s how the Alchemy Institute puts it.”
Lan Qi helplessly explained the absurd “folk ranking” they used.
Once you hit eighth-rank, you were among the strongest across north and south.
But with no concrete yardstick, and huge gaps even within eighth, the Alchemy students had dozens of sub-tiers—“ordinary eighth,” “strong eighth,” “quasi-bishop-tier,” “bishop-tier,” even “super-bishop-tier.”
Arguing battle strength was the institute’s favorite pastime.
For instance, Ivanos and Loren were deemed “bishop-tier.”
Talia was probably “strong eighth.”
Quasi-bishop meant barely being able to stall a cardinal of the Resurrection Church—unable to win, but not instantly crushed. Like the undying sword saint Juliana.
Super-bishop meant the very strongest of the cult’s bishops.
In war, one bishop-tier eighth-rank could change a nation’s fate.
That’s why Loren was called Hedon’s guardian.
And Duke Migaya’s disappearance was a crushing blow. As a stone-slab holder, he’d been at least quasi-bishop level.
Later, Lan Qi, tired of their endless bickering, casually proposed the “level” analogy to unify the standard.
He hadn’t expected—
Once he introduced “levels,” the arguments grew even fiercer.
Now the students constantly debated whether Loren was level eighty-something, or what level Ivanos was.
The quarrels were endless.
Apparently the Alchemy and Magitek institutes had even started joint research, aiming to develop a magic device to measure “levels.”
Well, that wasn’t something for a “forty-something level” guy like Lan Qi to worry about.
He only knew one thing:
He and Huperion now had the ticket into the northern continent’s Resurrection Church.
Next, all they had to do was prepare—then they could begin their winter break mission.
Hopefully, when they returned from the north, the south would still be at peace.
Lan Qi had no confidence he’d be strong enough in one trip to sway the wars of kingdoms.
Did my best. Collapsing now — Xi fainted.