534 Brewing: Part 1
“Powerful... amazing...”
“Holy Emperor? Is this what you really rely on?”
Inside the Astral re, vortexes that looked like pale blue clouds slowly spun under the control of the gloomy hall, above which floated a huge dark-gold clock.
An old man, shrouded in pure, holy light, holding a golden staff engraved with a dragon head, was feeling his newfound power inside him.
“Holy power, the power that purifies everything. Anyone who masters the holy power will master the world. This saying is so true.”
The Great Sage, now should be called the Sage King, was imrsing himself in the massively terrifying power.
The Sage King had all the information on the leadership of the Sanctum, which would facilitate his take over the holy cities, sitting back and enjoying while he took all the powers of the Sanctum.
The so-called Sanctum leadership had very little contact with the Holy Emperor at the top of the food chain. Most of the ti, they were just doing their jobs, working independently. Probably they did not even know what the Holy Emperor looked like.
Since the Holy Emperor always wore a full-face helt and no one could really see his face, this made him easier to replace.
“So long as I kill the Holy Emperor quietly, I can take over his role. No one would find out that soone else had beco the Holy Emperor.”
The Sage King had pulled out all the stops, getting his hands on the holy power cultivation technique, just to prepare for the move.
He had information that the place, where the Holy Emperor went to for cultivation, was a little secret realm. It was supposed to be a relatively small space, the portal of which was located in the backyards of Shermanton and Henricqal.
Sabotage was easy. One small error code in the portal would wreak havoc in the entire system. He just needed to disturb the coordinates and Lin Sheng would never be able to co back to the actual world again.
“The Blacktide attack or anything else could happen.” The Sage King had made his calculation.
Not only had he planted moles in every corner of the Sanctum but also knew which Palatinates in the Sanctum leadership were not too happy with the Holy Emperor. Among them, the Night Lord definitely had the most grievances against the Holy Emperor.
“The Night Lord is powerful, yet the laziest, putting pleasure before business. Obviously, if not for him having grievances against the Holy Emperor, a powerful being like him would have been given a heavy responsibility and not becoming this slothful. If not for a discord, such a powerful figure would not be left on the bench in the Sanctum. So it is absolutely worth the while to draw the Night Lord to our side.”
The Sage King made a ntal note of this.
Due to the sudden ergence of the Sanctum, of which not even the Astral re could predict, he had no choice but to lay the plot personally. At least things went smoothly so far.
“Soon, soon... the world will be mine alone...” mumbled the Sage King as he reached to rub with his finger the black pendant that looked like a watch hanging on his chest.
...
Defensive City 3.
A tall bridge, supported by concrete pillars, had broken in half in the middle. Probably sothing had crashed into it. A stream flew under the bridge like a snake.
Ansel and his teammates, clad in protective gear, quietly moved through the black bushes.
“The weather is wonderful today.” A teammate looked up at the pale gray sky. “It’s brighter than before. But, Boss, why are we leaving DC for the holy city? Would the Sanctum accept highly contaminated people like us?
“We are going to die, eventually. We might as well find soplace to enjoy ourselves while we still can. There is no need to be so hard on ourselves. Haven’t we earned enough?”
Every teammate seed to nod their head in agreent. They differed from other teams; the contamination level in their bodies was soon hitting the limit. They would not live longer than two months.
No defensive city would want to take them in because they could mutate and lose their minds, turning into Blacktide monsters at any ti.
“I have my reason.” Ansel was the least contaminated among them all. It was not just because he had the strongest physique but also because he had been maintaining a regular living routine.
He would not go out during rest ti, because that would wear his body down, speeding up the corrosion. Although he was healthier than his teammates, he still took them to go hunting, searching for the best materials, not at all worrying about the faster corrosion.
He would first let his teammates have any materials they found, so they could buy safer food and water and live on. Because of this, the team mbers were loyal to him.
“Stop the crap, Reagan. I’ve found a way that would let us live our remaining days in peace.” Ansel stomped down the grass half his height and continued to move forward.
“A way? What way? Do you an the holy city?” said a female teammate. Half of her face was covered in nodules; she had to wear a full-face helt.
She used to be pretty, her voice sweet, surrounded by her admirers all the ti. But her bestie had betrayed her, letting soone lure her into the Blacktide. Luckily it was the low tide, and the Blacktide had not corroded her into a monster. But half of her face was gone.
“Bingo. We’re heading to the holy city,” Ansel said. “In the holy city, we can beco ordinary folks, eating and drinking the cleanest food and water and you all may live for another two, three years.”
Two, three years... a figure they had never dread of. Everyone lapsed into silence.
“Then... how are you going to do that?” Reagan asked. Solemness had replaced the cynic expression on his face.
“I’ve got a fantastic intel, the value of which will let the holy city accept us in.” The thought brought him back to several days ago when he trailed Sola, the scavenger-stall owner, into the Cult of Salvation.
“Don’t worry. Trust . We will be all right. In fact, better!” He sounded confident.
No one said a word anymore as they hurried on. Defensive City 1, where they ca from, was not far from Henricqal. So long as they kept up the speed and if everything was smooth, they would arrive in no ti.
A few hundred kiloters was an unfathomably arduous journey for an average person. But it was just a walk in the park for these half-human, half-monsters persons like them.
They moved as quickly as they could. When there were monsters ahead, they would go around them to avoid confrontations. Soon, before the sunset, they saw the silhouette of the city wall of Henricqal, the holy city.
“Here we are.” Ansel reached to touch the soulhunting stone amulet, which had almost been completely corroded, as he led the way strode toward the holy city.
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