Chapter 599: The King of Pride (Part 3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 599: The King of Pride (Part 3)
The massive Golden Tree pierced through the boundaries of the Shadow of Belland, standing tall between heaven and earth. Its trunk was as thick as a mountain range, and its canopy blotted out the sun. Countless streams of golden light cascaded from its crown; in an instant, every soul in the city was struck with awe by the Golden Tree’s sheer magnificence and sanctity.
Beneath the tree sat a throne of ultimate opulence.
Albert sat regally upon it, clutching the Sword of Kings. His expression was solemn and majestic, his very aura seemingly sublimated in that moment. He sat high above, looking down upon Celicia—and indeed, all of Belland—like a true Emperor.
"Usurper! Why have you not come forward to kneel?"
His resounding voice shook the surroundings. A terrifying pressure surged forward like a tide. Under this horrific weight, Celicia’s body began to bend and lower against her will, forced into submission.
This was the power of that sword.
The Sword of Kings—the supreme symbol of the Imperial Emperor’s status.
When one held this sword, they undoubtedly possessed the ultimate dignity and sovereign status of the Empire’s ruler, both in law and in the very fabric of reality.
But...
Something was wrong.
Something was still very wrong.
Celicia’s body trembled slightly as she forced her spine straight, compelling herself to look directly into that brilliant golden light that threatened to sear her blind.
She stared fixedly at the Sword of Kings. The blade vibrated slightly, as if it were staring back at her with cold indifference.
Albert had gained the sword’s recognition. No matter how she looked at it, she had lost the game entirely; there was no hope for a reversal. But even so...
What was with this intense sense of dissonance?
Yes, dissonance.
She was a genuine member of the royal bloodline, yet she felt not a shred of affinity from the Sword of Kings.
There was only malice.
The Sword of Kings... why did it loathe her so much?
Was it simply... a lack of recognition?
Suddenly, Celicia felt another sharp pang of pain. Frowning slightly, she looked down.
Perhaps the strain of resisting the pressure had aggravated her earlier injuries; the blood-colored patterns on her arm flickered into view once more. Simultaneously, a faint, rushing sound of surging blood echoed in her ears.
Celicia’s eyes flickered as she condensed her frost, forcing the blood-colored patterns to vanish again.
"What? Still refusing to kneel?"
Seeing Celicia’s continued defiance, Albert couldn’t help but sneer.
"Heh. Celicia, my dear sister... for the sake of the 'blood' we share, if you kneel now and kowtow in submission, I might just spare your life. After all, I am a benevolent Emperor. I wouldn't be like that fool Andrew and murder my own kin with my own hands. Don't you agree?"
"..."
Celicia did not answer. Or rather, she gave her answer through action.
The moment Albert finished speaking, Celicia unhesitatingly raised her rapier—a weapon that looked pitifully frail compared to the Sword of Kings—and lunged straight at Albert beneath the Golden Tree!
Wind and snow howled, carrying a terrifying sword intent. Celicia poured everything she had ever learned into this strike, the sharp glint of her blade nearly splitting the very dome of the hall.
But it was still... a mayfly trying to topple a giant tree.
Holding the Sword of Kings, Albert—who had once been a mere commoner—now possessed terrifying strength comparable to a peak Crown Bearer.
Faced with Celicia’s sudden strike, he merely curled his lip in disdain and gave a casual wave of his hand.
A branch of the Golden Tree seemed to sway gently in response to that gesture.
A massive wave of golden energy swept through space. Celicia felt as if her sword had plunged into a stormy sea, a futile effort that added but a single ripple before the giant wave crashed down upon her.
Celicia let out a muffled groan as her delicate frame was sent flying like a sandbag. She had no defense against such a blow; her fighting spirit and frost were shattered almost instantly. A spray of blood trailed behind her as she fell into the eternal, deep night.
This was the gap between them.
As long as Albert held the Sword of Kings and sat upon that throne, he was virtually invincible.
"Courageous, but foolish."
Albert sneered as he watched Celicia fly backward. He had no intention of giving her a chance to escape, seemingly forgetting his own words about mercy. Wanting to eliminate the threat once and for all, he reached out again and pressed down toward Celicia, as if crushing an insect.
A horrific pressure that nearly compressed the air into a solid mass slammed into her. Celicia, already mid-air, was powerless to resist. her face turned paper-pale, blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, and her consciousness began to fade rapidly.
However, amidst the blur, she heard a familiar voice.
"Celicia!"
The voice approached rapidly, followed by an incredibly warm embrace that pulled her tight.
She hadn't been held in this embrace many times, but every instance had left a deep impression on her.
This time, it brought peace of mind.
"Indra King!"
Muen, who had rushed over and finally arrived at the critical moment, caught Celicia. As he flew backward with her to neutralize the force of the impact, he let out a furious roar.
The Ninefold Black Ring stirred the lightning in the heavens. A skinny, lean old man arrived with a thunderous boom. Though he had set out much later than Muen, he crossed the vast distance in an instant, slamming a fist wreathed in lightning into the Golden Tree.
"Indra King?"
Albert was stunned for a moment before roaring in rage, "Are you betraying me?"
"I never submitted to you, so how can there be betrayal?" The Indra King replied expressionlessly, throwing another punch.
The Golden Tree shook under the blow, its countless branches trembling as if caught in a gale.
The Indra King’s original intent was to attack Albert directly, but Albert now seemed to be one with the Golden Tree behind him; any attack could only land upon the tree itself.
"You dare attack me? Are you not afraid that I—"
As he spoke, Albert’s brow suddenly furrowed. He looked toward a certain direction. Despite the distance, it seemed as though the entire city was laid bare before his eyes. He realized something.
"I see. The source blood in that experimental subject has been cleared? To think such a thing was actually possible... What a waste. Beast blood is such a wonderful thing. Who helped you? The Church? So Muen Campbell really is in league with the Church?"
The Indra King remained silent, continuing his assault on Albert.
"Hmph. It doesn't matter if you won't speak. That experimental subject is useless to me now anyway. I intended to dispose of her afterward regardless. After all, an Emperor of the Empire cannot have the stain of performing human experiments on his record, can he?"
Albert raised the Sword of Kings.
In an instant, countless motes of light fell from the branches of the Golden Tree like golden willow catkins.
All of Belland was illuminated, turning the night into day. Amidst this brilliant, divine majesty, even the mighty Indra King couldn't help but look somewhat small.
"Haha, come!"
Albert laughed loudly. "Perfect. I shall use the head of the Indra King to proclaim the might of the Empire’s new Emperor!"
*
Somewhere in the Imperial Palace, the Pink Bear looked up at the golden giant tree overshadowing the great city and sighed.
The window glass reflected half of his face. That usually ridiculous bear mask seemed to take on a touch of solemnity under the golden glow.
"What a sight..."
"As expected of something left behind by the First King. Heh, the Empire has stood for a thousand years without falling; it really does rely on that thing."
"Can you still hold on?"
The Former Saintess stood beside him, looking at him with concern. "I can perform one more Holy Light Baptism."
"A simplified version for a single person is no longer of any use."
The Pink Bear shook his head. As he moved, thick blood seemed to flow within the bear suit. The pungent scent of iron and the audible sloshing of liquid began to seep through the fur of the pink costume.
"Rather than wasting time and energy on something meaningless, we should prepare. I have to finish what I set out to do."
"...Will it work?"
The Former Saintess turned to gaze at the Golden Tree, her eyes filled with deep worry.
"Compared to us, that side is what truly matters, isn't it? If they fail, everything we've done will be in vain. And it seems you haven't told her anything, have you? Is this really okay?"
"If I told her beforehand, it would be sensed. I had no choice."
The Pink Bear paused, seemingly recalling a certain cold face. He scratched his head and then smiled faintly.
"But don't worry. That girl... she's clever. Besides, based on what I know of her, she isn't the type to admit defeat so easily."
*
"Old Ghost, you lost."
Lower District, Flandre Street.
As a place famous for chaos even within the Lower District, this area had essentially been reduced to rubble during tonight’s turmoil.
Fire and smoke were everywhere. Wailing thugs and mutilated corpses littered the ground. Blood flowed freely, and the stench of gore was nauseating.
Amidst the wreckage, the Rat King stood relatively unscathed. He had several visible wounds, but his eyes were exceptionally bright. He aimed his magic repeating crossbow at the figure kneeling before him.
"Any last words?"
"Cough... hack... Heh. I never thought I’d actually fall at your hands, Sam."
Old Ghost was still wearing his trench coat, though it was now tattered and stained with blood. One of his arms had been completely severed, and several bolts were buried in his body. The various negative status effects attached to the bolts were relentlessly corroding his system, causing him agonizing pain.
During the chaotic battle just now, one side had relied on superior equipment and discipline, while the other relied on mindless, beast-transformed monsters. They had been at a stalemate.
But when that crying sound suddenly stopped, all the beast-transformed ones had reverted to human form and collapsed from exhaustion. In an instant, the scales tipped, and he was defeated under the coordinated assault.
Could it be said that, in the end, he had lost to fate?
"It seems your last words were nothing but nonsense."
The Rat King gave a cold smile. His finger tightened, and he pulled the trigger without hesitation—
Vroom.
At that exact moment, a blinding golden light erupted, illuminating the night.
The Rat King instinctively looked up, staring blankly at the Golden Tree that inspired an involuntary urge to submit.
"Oh no..."
After only a moment of daze, he snapped back to his senses, realizing his brief distraction had ruined everything.
Sure enough, the moment he looked back, Old Ghost’s hand made a grasping motion. The Rat King felt a sudden, violent suffocation, as if an iron pincer had clamped around his throat.
Thwip!
The Rat King’s subordinates fired a rapid volley. Old Ghost’s distorted face flickered in the light. Ultimately, he chose survival over spite, hurling the Rat King toward his subordinates while he took the opportunity to vanish into the night.
"Pursue him... Quick, after him!"
The Rat King ignored his violent coughing and barked out orders. However, Old Ghost had already disappeared into the labyrinthine, narrow alleys.