Chapter 253
Chapter 253
Chapter 253
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 253 – Lan Qi Never Sets Limits for Himself
“Before all the preparatory work for the Protos side is fully arranged, I’ll personally instruct you for a period of time, to make you as strong as possible.”
The Ice Witch temporarily put away the file, setting it aside—later, she would hand all of this to Huperion for her to study thoroughly.
Huperion snapped back to attention at the Ice Witch’s words.
“Excuse me… are you going to teach me magic?”
When it came to learning magic, Huperion was excited.
Since they were both witches, surely the Ice Witch must have things she could teach her—things no one else, not even demons, could impart.
“No. Your affinity with my spells is far too different. My magic isn’t something you can easily learn. But—if you see any magic on me that you’d like, I’ll do my best to rush and craft it into a magic card for you, and then give it to you.”
The Ice Witch spoke bluntly.
Any pink-colored Divine-tier spell, she was certain she could replicate for Huperion. As for orange-colored Epic-tier spells, though impossible to replicate directly, she would still try to craft lower-tier pink Divine substitutes.
“…There’s actually such a good deal?”
Huperion blinked, stunned.
She hadn’t imagined there could be such a convenient way of cultivation.
“Since I’ve given you such a difficult mission, naturally I’ll do my utmost to help you.”
The Ice Witch said firmly.
Though she still looked like a young woman in human terms, in truth she had lived through centuries. She had long since perfected her immense talent in magical engineering. Making spell-cards for Huperion was no problem at all.
Protos Empire hadn’t gone to war yet—for one reason only: the Empire wasn’t yet certain of absolute victory.
On the scales of war, a single eighth-tier powerhouse weighed heavily; a specialist with unique functions, even more so.
If Huperion could help them rescue that Great Demon, it would at least seriously disrupt the Empire’s plans, and buy valuable time for Aetherthalan Kingdom and the northern alliance.
“Thank you, Miss Almis.”
Huperion bowed in gratitude to the Ice Witch.
She had learned of the holy woman’s true name from the three priests earlier.
“I heard from the clergy that there’s a boy named Lan Qi who’s always at your side. Did he also come to the Northern Continent this time?”
The Ice Witch paused, then asked.
For some reason, ever since the three priests returned from the Shadow World, they always mentioned Lan Qi’s name. After some inquiries, she realized this youth was Loren’s student and was on very friendly terms with the clergy.
After meeting Lan Qi and Huperion, those three priests seemed changed in some essential way. But what exactly had changed, the Ice Witch couldn’t quite say.
Most likely, it was because of Huperion herself—after all, she was Ifatia’s daughter.
Unlike the Southern Continent, the North lacked the Shadow World’s recording devices and massive reading terminals, so they had no way of seeing exactly what had happened inside.
South and North had diverged in their approaches to magical engineering.
The peaceful South focused on improving daily life, disaster resistance, and training within the Shadow World—purely human magical engineering, guided by continental associations that coordinated and shared knowledge.
The war-torn North, however, focused on raw strategic strength. Shadow World usage was secondary, more influenced by demonic magical traditions and the varied legacies of ancient races.
After decades of separation by maritime catastrophes, the two sides had long since diverged.
“He did come. I lost contact with him at the beginning… but by now, most likely, he’s already within Protos territory.”
Huperion thought: if Lan Qi had washed up in Aetherthalan Kingdom, he would have guessed she’d seek the three priests, and surely joined her there.
So the greater probability was that he had drifted into Protos.
“If you do encounter Lan Qi, seek his aid. When that time comes, I’ll write to Loren and have him, on behalf of the Church, commend you both.”
The Ice Witch nodded.
“…That might be dangerous.”
Huperion’s gaze flickered.
“Your mission is indeed dangerous, but I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”
The Ice Witch admitted softly, closing her eyes.
“No, I mean… I’m afraid he’ll over-complete the mission…”
Huperion muttered under her breath, lowering her head.
“Don’t worry. Whatever responsibility there is, I’ll bear it. Just let him act freely.”
The Ice Witch leaned casually against the sofa back, waving dismissively.
Loren’s honest and steadfast student—she could already imagine what kind of person he was.
Talent should be put to use. The Ice Witch only hoped someone could help Huperion.
…
Time slipped by quickly.
It had already been two weeks since Lan Qi arrived in Lilorom City, in the southwest province of the Protos Empire.
That afternoon, the city basked in sunshine. Ancient stone buildings lined the streets, their windows and balconies overflowing with flowers and greenery. When the sea breeze blew, waves of fragrance drifted in, mingling with the endless rhythm of the ocean.
Through winding streets and bridges lay the city’s heart, where a towering temple rose above a wide garden square, the landmark of Lilorom.
Its spire reached skyward, trimmed in glittering gold.
The outer walls, built of beige marble, remained polished and spotless despite centuries. Intricate reliefs carved into the stone depicted legends and heroes. At its great doors, two colossal stone lions stood guard, warning all who entered to respect this sacred, solemn place.
Once, this had been a temple of the Goddess of Fate. Now, scarcely any citizen dared come—it belonged to the Resurrection Church.
Strangely, today, not a single silver-robed priest could be seen outside the temple.
At the very core of the temple, in its central great hall—
The vast space was dominated by a massive cross in the center. Sunlight streamed through rose windows, scattering colored light across the hall like shimmering water.
Every silver-robed priest in Lilorom was gathered there, their eyes burning with devotion, fixed upon the pulpit at the front.
A sermon was underway.
Rows of seats were filled with priests taking notes, listening attentively.
“The outside world is rotten. Those so-called ‘plunder’ and ‘cruelty’ are but lies they’ve woven. Only we possess the true revelation—because we alone know the truth of Love.”
The figure at the pulpit slowly raised his hand, stirring their hearts: “They will try to lead you away from Truth, but you must believe—in this place alone lies your true home.”
“Do not let the outside world blind your eyes,” his voice was calm, deep, steady, “for true strength, true wisdom, true freedom—are found only here.”
The silver-robed speaker shone, his light turning into golden holy mist that cloaked him. His figure blurred, his face obscured, unfathomable to mortals.
Yet beneath that dazzling glow, a single thing was unmistakably clear—
Those divine, compassionate emerald eyes.
(End of Chapter)