Chapter 348: Council of the Extinguishers (Two-in-One)

From the shadows came the hiss of an oxygen mask; the man in black seated on the main seat was actually an elderly man with graying hair, seated in a wheelchair.

He raised his hand shakily; the assistant beside him immediately pushed a turntable recorder onto the oak table, and after pressing play a deep, resonant voice said: "Approve the 'Feathered Serpent Divine Purification Operation', use the mk‑ultra subproject s‑77 drug…"

The head of the Rothschild family, upon hearing this, clenched his fist and hurriedly said, "Lord Lincoln! The s‑77 drug has not yet passed testing! Using it rashly could cause widespread airborne transmission!"

The elder's murky gaze fell on him, and the fierce stare gave the patriarch who controls the lifeblood of Europe's economy a shiver.

The recorder continued, "The Divine Messenger of the Night will descend in 2024, and then we shall ascend to the primordial Dark Temple…"

The recorder's voice faded, the hall fell into silence, leaving only the hiss of the oxygen mask.

After a while, an extremely hoarse, feeble, aged voice came from the oxygen mask: "…Defier. Die!"

LuokeXide felt a chill through their whole body; they knew the chairman was warning them.

This person, who has lived since the founding of the United States, holds the power of life and death over everyone, because each of them can attain immortality only through reliance on the others.

But…

LuokeXide's hand hidden under the table clenched into a fist, a flash of resentment in their eyes. They knew that each arrival of the Divine Messenger would judge everyone's deeds and mete out punishment.

Since the day of the nation's founding, when the chairman signed a contract with that messenger, a total of 52 great capitalists from the United States and Europe joined this secret organization that controls the Western world—the Council of the Extinguishers.

The 52 Extinguishers gained the power of immortality, their lives frozen at the appearance they had on the day the contract was signed.

This explains why everyone at the meeting appears to differ greatly in age, because immortality does not restore youth.

The Divine Messenger descends once every 70 years; each time he evaluates everyone and punishes the unqualified by revoking their immortality.

Of the original 52 Extinguishers, only 13 remain today.

LuokeXide knew that, based on their performance today, when the next Divine Messenger arrives, they will certainly be placed in the unqualified list.

And they will lose their immortal power, becoming an ordinary person who ages and dies!

They are unwilling!

Great Dragon, if you truly possess power equal to that being's, descend before us. I will kneel before you, submit to you, and shepherd all beings for you.

As long as

You grant me the power of immortality.

LuokeXide was destined to be lucky, because today their not‑so‑devout prayer actually came true!

"Boom!"

The iron door of the conference room burst open with a roar. Amid steam and blue light, a silver‑haired man stepped forward on molten titanium alloy plates, his orange‑gold pupils blazing like a welding torch in the smoke; the DuPont family's heir's left eye exploded into a cloud of blood mist on the spot.

"Good evening, you racketeers. The way you argue… is just like hyenas fighting over carrion." The humanoid mysterious entity greeted the crowd in a teasing tone.

"How could this be!" ExxonMobil's Baxter stood up in shock, staring at the man before him with fear.

CIA had received the intelligence long ago and placed it on their table; everyone here knows that the man before them, looking as handsome and gentle as a figure from a medieval oil painting, is the incarnation of that ruthless Great Dragon.

Naimi Xisi glanced at the noisy human, a flash of silver light flashing in his eyes.

Baxter immediately clutched his brain and screamed in agony as Mana pierced his brain matter like a spear, then detonated with a "bang" deep inside.

His scream abruptly ceased as his skull imploded, the spattered brain matter freezing in the air into an arc.

Everyone was so frightened their legs went weak, remaining silent. They made no attempt to call the guards, because they knew better than anyone the terrifying power of the presence before them.

They had assumed the opponent would not easily locate them, not realizing that this place is fortified with the Divine Messenger's power!

At the far end, the elder seated on the main seat spoke, his hoarse voice echoing through the space: "How did you find this place?"

Naimi Xisi chuckled lightly, "It's merely a nine‑ring anti‑prophecy Divine Spell formation; you thought you could block my power?"

After leaving Wyoming, he indeed encountered obstruction when initially using prophetic magic to locate the true ruler of the United States.

At that time, Juan Ce Long realized that the place where the other party was located was protected by Divine Spell, which made him realize that behind the U. S. leadership stood a priest of a deity from the Multiverse.

Yet Naimi Xisi's prophetic arts are immensely powerful; Juan Ce Long's already abnormal prophetic talent, amplified by a power gem, easily shattered the Divine Spell protection.

Naimi Xisi strolled slowly, brushing past everyone at the long table, and walked toward the elder. Seeing his composed gaze made a smile tug at his mouth.

"Let me guess," Juan Ce Long whispered close to the elder's cheek, a smoky murmur in his ear, "Your fearless capital comes from that priest who granted you immortality?"

The elder's pupils contracted; the Divine Messenger had indeed claimed to serve that priest. That Great Dragon and the Divine Messenger hail from the same place?!

"What a pitiful mortal," Naimi Xisi said with pity, "You sacrifice everything, even your own soul, just to gain the chance to become a shadow creature?"

Juan Ce Long instantly saw that these 13 humans had already been corrupted by the power of shadow; although they appear human, inside they have become essentially pure shadow elemental beings, which is why they do not age or die.

The elder spoke again, but beneath his steady tone lay a barely perceptible panic: "Since you know, you should also understand how great our master is. If you kill us, you will not meet a good end."

Naimi Xisi couldn't help but sneer, "A bunch of disposable puppets, you think too highly of yourselves."

"Do you realize that everything you're doing now is only to make that one's assimilation and destruction of your world a little easier?" Naimi Xisi's flawless smile carried a bright mockery.

"You are willing to sacrifice everything for immortality, yet you don't know that your lives can only last until 2024."

The hiss from the oxygen mask grew louder, indicating the elder's breathing was becoming more rapid: "No!" they refused to believe, "The goddess will not let us die along with those wretches!"

Naimi Xisi gave them a strange look, "What right do you think you have to ask a great being who seeks to plunge everything into darkness to spare you a life?"

"Oh no," they scanned the crowd, "Is it to spare 13 lives?"

"Relying on your devout faith? No, you know best that what you love is your power, your immortality. The doctrine of darkness to you is just a heap of empty talk."

Naimi Xisi lamented, "I'm sorry, but to the Night Church's priest, everyone seated here is merely a substandard specimen destined for the operating table to experience pain and void."

Faith in a deity is not just lip service; these capitalists, accustomed to acting from profit, think that merely uttering faith for immortality and deceiving their own brains makes them believers?

Heh, a believer affirms the deity's doctrine; practicing the doctrine is the greatest faith in the deity.

Only those who embrace the concept of returning to and embracing darkness are true followers of Saar.

That's why followers of evil deities are often neurotic lunatics; without sincere acceptance of the deity's doctrine, one cannot be a true devotee.

That's also why Naimi Xisi spared that Soviet female agent; faith is not a simple thing. He has not yet raised a divine nation, nor knows what his future doctrine will be. He needs professional religious propagandists to establish an expansion system for his future church.

These people can only be considered shallow utilitarian believers.

Of course, truly embodying every tenet of a deity's doctrine is difficult, but devout believers have another way to contribute to the faith.

That is to practice the doctrine.

The followers of Lady Fire firmly believe in the romance of love, and from time to time they stage a group activity. This is practicing the doctrine.

The followers of the God of War love war, slaughtering enemies on the battlefield. This is practicing the doctrine.

By the same token, given Saar's evil and anti‑human doctrine, one can imagine how much these capitalists can be satisfied.

They are outright false believers, unable even to be shallow followers of Saar. With their behavior, if they threw themselves into Lady Wealth's embrace, they could become devout believers, perhaps even become a priest.

But in this magic‑less world, they can only cling steadfastly to Saar's thigh.

And their very nature condemns them to be discarded as defective goods.

This is why Naimi Xisi cannot help but mock them.

A bunch of profit‑driven, pleasure‑seeking people actually consider themselves Saar's followers?

If they were shown the doctrines in the Night Scripture, they'd probably be scared stiff.

Juan Ce Long mercilessly tore apart the fantasies in their hearts; the old man, panting heavily, muttered, "No, no. I have built achievements for the goddess, abandoned everything; how could the goddess possibly disregard me…"

Naimi Xisi no longer paid attention to the old man, not even interested in his identity. Upon entering, Mind Power had already scanned everyone's hearts.

This centuries‑old monster, the president of the Dimming Council, is none other than the United States' founding father and great emancipator—Abraham Lincoln.

Obviously, history always glorifies the successful. Those Americans probably never imagined that the president they deem the greatest in history is actually a madman planning to destroy the world.

Naimi Xisi snapped his fingers; Lincoln's wheelchair ignited with a pale blue flame. The ambitious schemer who had survived for centuries on decayed resources offered no resistance this time, simply surrendering his life in a daze.

"The ashes of the old god make fine fertilizer," the giant dragon flicked his fingertip; the old man's ashes drifted automatically into the ventilation shaft, "Go nurture my new believers."

Naimi Xisi turned to the crowd and, amid their terrified gazes, snapped his fingers again. Most of the twelve were instantly ignited by Arcane Power fire, howling as they turned to ash.

He needs a dog, but not that many dogs.

Mind Power erupted; the survivors knelt in the pool of blood, and Naimi Xisi stepped before them, slicing his own wrist.

The capitalists parasitizing the darkness opened their mouths, greedily craving the master's blood; every one who swallowed dragon blood had their pupils etched into gear shapes.

General Electric's Walter machinery tore the tie apart, revealing scales wriggling at the collarbone: "Within three weeks, every appliance in the United States will bear the giant dragon's totem; your loyal servant will guide them to worship you, great White Mystery."

Besides that, Thor, IBM and other major corporate heads also knelt before Juan Ce Long, pleading for his blessing.

Only Lockheed was not directly controlled by Naimi Xisi.

Juan Ce Long stepped before him, his deep orange‑gold eyes fixed on Lockheed: "You are ambitious, so I am willing to give you a chance."

He spoke aloof from above: "Everyone here survives by the power of Shadow. When that priest arrives, these people will die suddenly from losing the Shadow's protection."

"But I can give you a chance, so that even without Shadow's power you can survive," Juan Ce Long's voice tempted like a devil.

Indeed, that is why Naimi Xisi does not control Lockheed.

These sect heads are disposable junk who survive by Shadow's power; Naimi Xisi cannot save them.

Since they may die at any moment, become puppets without self‑will.

Naimi Xisi does have means to save them: using the Soul Binding Technique to extract their souls, then the Limited Prayer Technique to forge a body and insert the souls.

Although massive rejection reactions may occur, causing death within a few years, it's still life, isn't it?

However, Naimi Xisi does not intend to do that; he plans to create a Lich.

If Lockheed is willing to become an Undead without taste or smell for eternal life, Naimi Xisi could consider turning him into a noble Lich.

Although almost all Liches are transformed from powerful Spellcasters, that's merely because ordinary people lack the opportunity or means to undergo the ritual.

Even though Lockheed himself is not a Spellcaster, Naimi Xisi can complete the ritual for him.

Even Lockheed himself, upon becoming a Lich, would spontaneously become a 9th‑level Mage capable of casting the Five‑ring Spell (the lowest level for a Lich)!

For this proposal, Lockheed barely paused a few seconds before nodding in agreement, his gaze even full of anticipation.

Joking about beautiful women and gourmet food—he's already enjoyed enough over the centuries.

To retain immortality is one thing, but also to possess great supernatural power? My god, it's just getting a little uglier, and he doesn't mind at all!

With that mindset, Lockheed accepted without any mental pressure.

Naimi Xisi extended his bronze‑colored left hand, placing it atop Lockheed's head.

Juan Ce Long whispered a grim, nauseating incantation, green necrotic magic swirling around the two like a storm.

Under Naimi Xisi's massive magical power, Lockheed was gradually turning into a Lich during the ritual.

(End of chapter)