Chapter 181: The Wrath of the Glutton King: Her Opponent Is Not

Deep night.

Central Land, the capital.

At the heart of this ancient metropolis stood a magnificent palace—the symbol of the highest power in Sosia: the Royal Palace.

Inside the palace hall, towering colonnades encircled the space, the dome rising dozens of meters high, hung with massive chandeliers linked by iron chains, their candle flames swaying like living things, illuminating the chamber as brightly as daylight.

Along the walls, lifelike murals depicted the glorious achievements of generations of Sosian monarchs, each feat leaving a heavy mark on the entire history of humanity.

At the very end of the palace stood a grand throne inlaid with gold, silver, and gemstones, shining with dazzling brilliance, symbolizing supreme royal authority.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

With nearly silent footsteps, a figure cloaked entirely in black entered the silent palace, walking forward until he knelt respectfully on one knee upon the red carpet beneath the massive throne.

“Great King, your faithful servant Ramon comes to pay homage.”

He bowed deeply, his voice dripping with humility.

At the same time, Ramon gently removed the artifact concealing his identity, revealing a line of ice-blue text—“Shadow of the Throne.”

It was the summation of his life, and the thing he was most proud of.

After all, becoming the shadow of the noblest being in the world—what an honor!

“Speak.”

From the high throne came a detached voice.

“The Faceless team dispatched earlier to assassinate the Sage Xia Mingyu has been confirmed dead; both missions failed, and the Silver Compass they carried was destroyed,” Ramon reported.

“Why couldn’t a Green-Tier Two Faceless take down even a Morning Star?”

After listening silently to the servant’s report, the King voiced his doubt, a trace of irritation breaking through his usual indifference.

Even within the entire Faceless Assembly, Green-Tier Two was among the elite, second only to the Number One of each sequence, capable under ideal conditions of assassinating even a Crescent Moon-ranked target.

Cultivating such an elite Faceless required immense resources—potions, training, coin, and more—and even as a monarch, he felt a momentary pang of regret.

Most crucially, the man was dead—and worse, the Silver Compass used to locate the Harvesters had been ruined. This directly threatened his ascension. How could he not rage?

“The exact cause is unknown. It appears a stronger force intervened in the battle.”

Ramon’s tone remained steady, yet his already bowed frame sank lower, his forehead pressed flat against the red carpet.

“Send the Number One of the Green Sequence. Immediately. Bring me the head of this so-called Sage.”

After a long silence, the King’s detached voice echoed again from the throne, as if this were a trivial matter.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Additionally, in the North, rumors have surfaced regarding the Jade Knight and the Food Fairies.” Ramon reported again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

This time, the response was a clearer, more distinct tread.

The King descended the steps, and the figure long hidden atop the throne finally revealed his true form.

He was a middle-aged man with long, ink-green hair, dressed in an ornate robe, appearing around forty.

His face was stern and profound; time had etched wrinkles upon it, yet it did not diminish his calm aura—his sharp, chiseled features hinted at the beauty he once possessed in youth.

His pale green eyes held no warmth, instilling genuine awe in anyone who met his gaze.

Above the man’s head floated a line of silver text—King of Sosia—declaring his identity.

Laun Sosia, the Ninth Monarch of Sosia, the most noble being in the Western Continent.

Of course, nobles privately preferred to call him by another name—“The Glutton King”—a beast that devoured all food as if it knew no satiety.

“Aren’t the Fairies supposed to have withdrawn from the world?” The King looked down at the kneeling figure, his voice cold.

"I initially thought it was false, but after thorough verification, it appears they are indeed real fairies," Ramon answered without hesitation.

“Your Majesty, shall I go personally to kill them?” The leader of the Faceless volunteered.

As the King’s shadow, he knew well what the King sought—the Food Fairies, capable of producing vast quantities of food. If left unchecked, the consequences would be immense.

The Glutton King fell silent, turning his gaze northward. His pale green eyes pierced through layers of palace halls, seeing countless forces of famine surging toward him like a tide from the North.

Yet, compared to earlier, the quantity had slightly diminished—though only by a small fraction.

“The North is too vast,” the Glutton King said meaningfully.

“The Fairies, who dwell in the Dream World, have suddenly emerged. There’s no need to provoke them now. Wait.”

“Withdraw.”

“Yes.”

Ramon rose, bowed once more with deep respect, then slowly retreated from the palace, leaving the King alone in the hall.

The Glutton King surveyed the surroundings. His gaze pierced through the walls once more, seeing the endless tide of famine forces surging toward him from all directions.

Overall, the East had the most, the North second, with little difference between them; the West Valley ranked third, significantly lower; as for the South—

“Damn the Crimson Flame!”

Seeing the famine forces from the South—scant, almost nonexistent compared to the other three regions—the King’s usually composed face twisted in uncharacteristic rage. He cursed with near-furious venom.

This was not the first time he had cursed the Crimson Flame at night. In fact, over the past decade, such scenes had occurred hundreds of times.

Each time he saw the meager trickle of famine forces from the South, the Glutton King longed to go back in time and slap the dying Crimson Flame—then lying on his sickbed, barely breathing—into silence.

Had he not spared the South from grain taxes with his generous vow, he would have ascended to the Sun Wheel long ago, fueled by the famine forces gathered from the entire realm. Why had he remained stuck at the pinnacle of the Radiant Moon?

He could have even shattered the limits of the Hierarch and become the first Apostle of that transcendent being.

And all this beauty—shattered by that damned madman, the Crimson Flame!

The King clenched his fist tightly. Vast quantities of pale green magical energy erupted from him, causing the chandeliers above the palace to sway precariously, their candles snuffed out by the violent gusts.

“It won’t be long now. When I break through to the Sun Wheel, that circus and the Martha family will be annihilated.”

In the pitch-black hall, a cold voice echoed, then silence swallowed all.

The next day, daylight.

The capital’s streets teemed with traffic; caravans and travelers flowed endlessly, a scene of prosperity.

After all, this was beneath the Emperor’s feet—no grain taxes or oppressive levies here.

Or rather, this was the true domain of the royal family—the Sosia clan.

Inside a luxurious estate.

“Daddy, hug me~”

“Me too.”

“Alright, alright, everyone gets one.”

After hugging his two adorable children and his beautiful wife in turn, the kind-faced middle-aged merchant watched them board their carriage and depart the estate.

He was a prominent merchant, renowned throughout the capital and even the entire nation for his benevolence and generosity. Years ago, after witnessing the horrific suffering of commoners in the other three regions, he vowed to sell all his wealth to buy grain from neighboring countries and feed the starving.

But the matter soon faded into nothingness, becoming a dark stain on his otherwise flawless reputation.

“Since you’ve come, step out.”

When the parlor was empty save for himself, the merchant spoke calmly.

“Your perception is still sharp. It seems years of wealth haven’t made you weak.”

After a moment of silence, a figure cloaked entirely in black emerged slowly from the shadows in the corner.

“Lord Ramon, what do you want with me?” The merchant stared directly at the figure, bluntly.

“Naturally, there’s a mission. A new Sage named Xia Mingyu has appeared in the South. The Green-Tier Two Faceless failed and died attempting to assassinate him. The task now falls to you, the Green-Tier One.” Ramon spoke coolly.

“I recall the Faceless Assembly’s rule: once a Faceless gains a face and a new identity, they are no longer required to carry out missions and may live freely.” The merchant spoke slowly.

“So, can I refuse?” The merchant’s pale green eyes flickered with cold light; a sharp killing intent surged from him, as if he would strike the moment Ramon refused.

“Theoretically, yes. You, having gained a face, have the right to refuse my orders. But—” Ramon paused.

“This order comes directly from the King of Sosia. As long as you remain within Sosia, you must fulfill your duty as a subject and obey the King’s every command!”

In the next instant, an even greater killing intent erupted from Ramon. All servants within the estate froze, suddenly gripped by inexplicable heart-pounding dread.

After a moment of standoff, the middle-aged merchant slowly retracted his killing intent.

“Target information,” he sighed softly, calmly.

“Here you go, Green One. When you complete the mission, the Great King will surely reward you.” Seeing the merchant yield, Ramon withdrew his killing intent, placed a sheet of paper on the table, and vanished back into the shadows.

“Xia Mingyu, Mage… righteous and kind, led a great purge in the South…”

“If only I could avoid killing someone like this,” Green One murmured after quickly reading the paper.

But thinking of his wife and children, the hesitation and pity in his pale green eyes vanished, replaced by calm resolve.

He must return to this warm home, surrounded by the family he loved deeply—and who loved him in return.

To achieve that, even if he must once again be stained with the stench of bloodshed, he would not hesitate.

Even if this love was false.

In the North, as dusk fell.

The last rays of the setting sun brushed across the village gate, turning the snow into a faint golden hue.

Beneath a large, leafy tree, Ailier and Kain stood waiting.

“Come on, isn’t that woman just running off and leaving us here to wait?”

Kain glanced at the sun, about to vanish below the horizon, his expression annoyed.

He, the young master of the Deen family, had stood here like a fool all day!

And that blue-haired woman? She might already be dozens of miles away by now.

Ailier said nothing, her gaze fixed intently on a distant direction.

“She’s coming.”

Long after Kain had grown impatient and was about to turn away, Ailier suddenly spoke.

As if in response, a streak of emerald light erupted from the far end of the snowy plain, slicing through the pale earth like a blade, racing straight toward them.

Seeing this, Cain quietly moved closer to Aelier’s side.

In just a few seconds, the blue streak of light arrived before them, then its magic dissipated, revealing a calm-faced girl.

Her ice-blue hair swayed gently in the breeze, beautiful as frozen flame.

Her snow-white face, exquisitely carved like ice, held a charm that could make countless men fall in love at first sight.

Aelier stared blankly at the girl before him—not because he was captivated by her allure, but because he sensed something different about her.

He had risen from a commoner to deputy commander of the Frostfang Knight Order through countless brutal battles, largely thanks to a unique instinct that helped him avoid danger.

If the old Dolove had felt like someone he could kill with slight effort, the girl standing before him now was beyond his understanding—he only knew she was dangerous.

Could such a vast gap truly form in just one day? It was as if she were no longer the same person.

“Let’s go. I’ll return with you to Polar City,” Dolove said coolly.

“Have you broken through to Crescent Moon?” the man couldn’t help asking as she passed him.

At this, Cain’s eyes bulged as if they might pop out.

Father above, this woman is barely in her early twenties—how could she have advanced to Crescent Moon so soon?

“No,” the girl shook her head, then glanced at the silver-haired youth beside her, who let out a sigh of relief, before speaking again:

“It should be within a few months.”

Cain’s expression trembled, a deep sense of defeat etching across his stern face.

He understood now what it meant: beyond genius, there was still greater genius.

“Don’t worry, Young Master. She won’t be your match,” Aelier murmured.

“Hahahaha, of course! I’m the Young Master of the Dean family—soon I’ll inherit all of the Northern Region. How could a woman with no backing surpass me?”

For the first time ever, the taciturn deputy commander had offered him comfort—and “Wild Wolf” Cain quickly regained his fighting spirit.

Aelier opened his mouth to correct him, then fell silent—his meaning wasn’t that at all.

Meanwhile, in the Southern Region, Dusk City.

A carriage bearing the emblem of a black wolf’s head slowly arrived there.

(End of Chapter)