Chapter 584: William Augustus I

"Witch King" Kalaman, it seems the Rose School's elite forces are insufficient, even the followers of the Primal Moon have been summoned; as thoughts flicker, Rekton smiles and nods at him, his gaze sweeping over the finely crafted male figurine in Kalaman's hand.

It is only palm-sized, dressed in a dark red, gold‑trimmed formal robe; its eyes have been gouged out, leaving two black voids, and its vague stare falls on Rekton, radiating intense hatred and malice.

In the next instant, the surrounding dense darkness and shadows writhe rapidly, coalescing into illusory yet solid black shackles that surge from all directions, attempting to bind Rekton.

At the same time, the male figurine held by Kalaman suddenly vanishes.

Rekton suddenly feels the mechanical glove on his right hand twitch slightly, conveying disgust and anger.

Immediately, his clothing inexplicably tightens, the collar, cuffs, and waist hemming him forcefully, as if to tear his whole body apart.

The state lasts less than a second; Rekton's figure suddenly becomes illusory, as if he does not exist, and the surrounding black shackles of shadow pierce straight through his body.

The palm‑sized, finely crafted male figurine also materializes in the air before him.

Rekton extends his right hand forward, easily snatching the palm‑sized figurine; a thin, hazy glow spreads over the bronze mechanical glove, flowing like water and seeping gradually into the figurine's interior.

"Ugh!!"

A mournful, piercing shriek that directly harms spirits erupts from the figurine, then vanishes instantly.

Several dark‑gold nails bearing strange patterns materialize out of thin air, sealing the figurine's mouth tightly.

Not far away, Kalaman's eyes clearly reflect Rekton's figure, and one of his eyeballs is forcibly ripped out.

Thick black mist churns over his hand, enveloping the eyeball.

Dark, solid shadows emerge around Rekton; the surrounding scene freezes, and an unseen force binds him firmly in place.

Rekton chuckles and shakes the purple gourd in his left hand; pure, bright golden light surges from it, instantly engulfing the surroundings.

In the blazing, dazzling Sea of Light, two muffled hums sound together, and the air fills with the scent of charred flesh.

In the pure, bright Sea of Light, thin black smoke drifts and vanishes; a flock of vampiric bats, half real and half illusory, flutter rapidly toward the opposite side of the pier, and once out of the light's reach, they reconstitute the body of "Witch King" Kalaman.

As his form solidifies, his eyes swiftly reflect the figure of Maihams, gaunt and bony, clad in a white robe embroidered with gold thread.

Using Kalaman's eyes as mirrors, Maihams also steps out of the Sea of Light's coverage.

Nearby, the light that shrouds half the pier is swiftly gathered into a sphere, appearing in the hand of the Luen military female demigod dressed in a black evening gown and a strange crown woven from thorns, and it gradually elongates into a pure, blindingly white spear of scorching light that seems forged from pure sunlight.

The spear's front bears two immaculate white wings unfurling in layers, angelic around the tip; the space around Rekton is sealed, preventing him from evading by teleportation or similar means.

Rekton watches the female demigod about to hurl the blazing white Light Long Spear; his eyes instantly turn a pale gold and narrow, and the dark‑gold scales layered on his right mechanical hand flicker faintly.

Bang! A crisp snapping sound echoes in the silent night; the surrounding airflow suddenly turns violent, rubbing the air with a sizzling hiss, the wind bearing a will as it blows in all directions.

In that moment, everyone on the pier falls into brief bewilderment and terror; it sounds as if a dragon roars beside their ears, both real and illusory, and their bodies, minds, and spirits enter an uncontrollable state.

Some freeze in place trembling, some flee blindly toward garden corners, some lose bladder control, legs go limp, or they simply faint into unconsciousness.

The Light Long Spear in the female demigod's hand, having been forged from pure sunlight, loses its spiritual cohesion and disintegrates into shards of pure, blazing white light, freeing the previously sealed space.

Rekton curls his lip, a veil of faint starlight drapes over him, and his figure vanishes instantly.

In the soundless hush, a peaceful, silent night descends; the howling wind and crashing waves recede, and the entire pier slips into secrecy.

Rekton's silhouette appears on the deck of the hybrid‑propulsion sailing ship moored at the pier; around him, orange‑red twilight light erupts from the void.

Gradually, an illusory, grand palace resembling a giant's dwelling rises in the orange‑red glow; several extremely vague, terrifying silhouettes sit on either side of a blood‑stained, mottled long table, their faces snarling as they greedily divide the table's contents.

In the next instant, the vague figures at both ends of the table all turn their heads toward the other side of the pier, looking at the female demigod in the evening gown and the black‑haired, gold‑eyed male demigod beside her, whose attire is crisp and whose demeanor is mature and refined.

The magical items they wear suddenly go berserk; the thorn‑woven strange crown sprouts wooden spikes that lengthen, sharpen, and thrust inward, deeply piercing the female demigod's skull, hot crimson blood gushing out. On the black‑haired, gold‑eyed male demigod's hand, his ring suddenly emits a burst of crystal‑like light that envelops only the arm bearing the ring.

Before he can react, the light—and his arm—vanish.

The black‑haired, gold‑eyed male demigod looks shocked for a moment, then half‑kneels as if weightless, his face contorted in pain, tears welling at the corners of his eyes from the intense agony.

Rekton rubs his fingers, generating specks of starlight that coalesce into a broad palm, reaching for the female demigod's crown.

A deep‑red, moon‑light‑condensed long arrow shoots from the opposite side of the pier, shattering the starlight‑formed palm.

Simultaneously, Maihams opens his mouth again, emitting a silent, piercing shriek toward Rekton.

The shriek carries a curse brewed in prolonged silence, erupting upon Rekton.

The next second, Rekton's body becomes ethereal, as if nonexistent; the curse that acted upon him transforms into countless thin black worms that writhe in the air and fade away.

After the Pharaoh's mummy was exiled by Rekton, Maihams and Kalaman of the Rose School regarded him as an enemy; their attempt to reclaim the mummy failed, and to safely leave Beckrand, they plan to temporarily ally with the two Luen military demigods.

With the Rose School demigod buying time, the gold‑haired, night‑cloaked military demigod gasps heavily, propping himself on his remaining hand, and looks at the female demigod whose brain has been pierced by the thorn crown, her gaze vacant, and says:

"No reanimation of dead things here."

"No bleeding or injury here."

As the words finish, the female demigod, previously held tight by the thorn crown, finally regains herself; her expression instantly turns painful, as if just feeling the head's pain.

"Sigh~"

A heavy sigh issues from Rekton's mouth; his angelic stature makes the sigh, upon reaching the ears of several Rose School and Luen military demigods, become an indescribable, muffled, terribly contaminating babble.

"I do not wish to reveal angelic‑level power and aura so close to Beckrand; it would cause unnecessary trouble."

His sigh sounds like a dark god's whisper; even Maihams and the others, sealed off, cannot block it.

The maddening, twisted, ominous babble reverberates in their ears, stabbing their brains, leaving them dazed and unable to think clearly, while their flesh cracks and sprouts a single bizarre eye.

Rekton's eyes glitter with cold, pure light, exuding an unusually holy, wise aura, yet they appear detached and lacking humanity.

Specks of starlight spill from his fingertips, forming several massive hands wreathed in starlight, reaching for the scattered, uncontrolled magical items on the pier, the thorn crown atop the Luen military female demigod's head, and the severed arm of the gold‑haired, black‑eyed demigod.

Zzzzz!

A crisp tearing sound rings in the air as a silver‑white spike sword forcefully slashes the tranquil night, dispelling the pier's secret veil.

The black night falls like a tide, revealing the true pier under dim streetlamps; the sounds of waves crashing and wind howling resume.

In the pier's sky, a middle‑aged man in a great cloak, with black hair, blue eyes, a square face, and an imposing aura, stands silently.

His mere presence seems to reinforce the surrounding area's rules and order, as if he were an enforcer and guardian of order.

"William Augustus I?" Rekton tilts his head slightly, eyes the figure, his tone even yet resolute.

Every gold coin issued by Luen bears his portrait; it's hard to not recognize him.

As he speaks, the magical items seized by the Hand of Starlight have already arrived at his side.

William Augustus I, standing silently in midair, spoke solemnly:

"Objects return to their rightful owner!"

His words were like an irrevocable judgment; as his voice fell, the surrounding rules began to automatically enforce the verdict, sending those captured magical items back.

(End of chapter)