Chapter 567: The Death Knell Rings in Roland City

Roland City, Saint Roland Cathedral.

This sacred hall, which once symbolized the purity and piety of the Ryan Kingdom, was now like a graveyard haunted by ghosts.

Hoarse roars replaced the hymns of the choir, plating the holy stained-glass windows with a layer of hair-raising panic.

"Marius! Where did you go? I order you, get out here immediately!"

The stumbling old man passed through the pews.

He walked to the altar, his hands gripping the marble railing tightly, blood vessels about to burst buried under his aged skin.

Marius did not appear.

Responding to Xioden was only the echo of his own voice.

And that "Hand of the Former King" who always guarded his side like a shadow was now like he had evaporated from the world, with no news for a long time.

Xioden turned around abruptly, looked around the hall behind him, harboring a last shred of hope, trying to retrieve his lost trump card from the shadows of the marble pillars.

However, facts proved that everything was just in vain.

And what he lost was not just a trump card, but also the laziness behind that relaxed gaze, and even… his youth itself.

Having lost the nourishment of "Holy Water," the aging and sturdy King seemed to have only aging left. His flesh accelerated its decay in madness, his steps were no longer steady, and all this was because Marius had stopped paying tribute… at least that was what he thought.

The bone-deep chill made Xioden shiver involuntarily. He gradually felt a breath called death, climbing up along his ankles, turning into a foul chill under his skin and hair.

"I don't believe it… how could you fail? You must be hiding, right? Hehe… get out here!"

Xioden muttered neurotically, sometimes talking to himself, sometimes roaring, his turbid eyeballs covered in bloodshot veins.

That was Marius!

The sharpest dagger of the Ryan Kingdom!

In this world, besides those demigods who had stepped half a foot into the divine realm, who else could kill him silently?!

Impossible!

Absolutely, absolutely impossible!

Even for a demigod, wanting to kill a Grandmaster was by no means an easy thing. The power of the domain was certainly strong, but it was not equivalent to having no opponents; there were many ways to make up for the gap in strength.

And since he didn't die, there was only one explanation.

A thought, even more terrifying and infuriating to Xioden than Marius's death, drilled into his mind like a poisonous snake—

It was betrayal!

He smelled the scent of betrayal.

"Enough! My patience has run out; you have betrayed your kingdom! Marius! I knew that people with dirty blood in their veins were untrustworthy… you low-born thing, a bastard born of a maid! The shame of the Devalu family!"

Xioden raised his head abruptly, roaring at the empty hall, his voice shrill like a vengeful ghost from hell.

He didn't care anymore.

Marius's illegitimate status was one of the core secrets of the Devalu family, and it was also why Xioden could trust him so much.

Whether in Hell or in Saint Xisi's belief system, "unclean blood" was not a blessing, but a curse, or rather, a handle.

They were often regarded as shame, excluded from inheritance jurisprudence, and naturally hostile to church forces… Only by relying on the favor of their elders or the forgiveness of legitimate heirs could they survive in the shadows, even if this was not their fault.

Xioden never expected that Marius would betray him, but he thought to himself that the Campbell Principality was now ruled by demons, and the rebellious Edward might not really care about ancient jurisprudence… so everything made sense.

"You took my formula, took my Holy Water… you defected to Campbell! You hell-bound thing! You betrayed your family and your King!"

That two-faced traitor must have used the gift that originally belonged to the King to exchange for Edward's protection!

The intensifying suspicion was like a burning fire, burning away the last shred of reason of Xioden, who was inherently suspicious.

He waved his scepter angrily, smashing an angel statue beside the altar to pieces, letting the plaster fragments fly toward Saint Xisi's statue.

The compassionate statue still stood there indifferently, as if it were a mockery of the mortal struggling on the verge of death, and as if it were pitying.

However, seeing that serene expression, Xioden only felt angry, wishing he could throw the scepter in his hand toward it.

"Your Majesty… please calm your anger…"

A trembling voice came from the shadows in the corner, as weak as a mouse about to be stepped to death.

Xioden turned his head abruptly, his bloodshot eyes locking onto the source of the sound.

Behind that huge stone pillar, Claude, wearing a gorgeous cardinal robe, was shivering, his aged face full of panic.

He had wanted to go up and support the crumbling Majesty, or say a few funny words to appease him, but facing those man-eating eyes, he still instinctively retreated.

That was not a human's gaze at all.

But a magical beast driven crazy by hunger and fear.

Claude felt his legs trembling, and that heavy bishop's robe now felt like it was filled with lead, making him unable to breathe.

If it weren't for seeing that His Majesty was about to smash even Saint Xisi's statue, he would rather have hidden behind that marble pillar until he died of old age.

He knew his own weight better than anyone.

He wasn't any spokesperson for the gods at all, just a gilded court clown; let alone the King, even a Baron's daughter could slap him in the face.

The current Roland City was no longer the ancient city-state of a thousand years ago that had firm faith and stood with the Holy Light at all times.

"Claude…"

Xioden approached him step by step, his steps dragging, grabbing Claude by the collar, squeezing out the breath of rotten overnight vegetables from between his teeth.

"Are you here to mock me?"

"I… how would I dare, Your Majesty…"

Claude pressed his body tightly against the cold stone pillar, cold sweat sliding down his face covered in greasepaint, gathering into drops on his chin.

He tried hard to squeeze out a smile that was uglier than crying; that was the instinct he practiced when he was a clown, and even more so the skill he had tested after becoming a bishop.

"I am your most loyal servant… and also God's servant…"

"God?"

Xioden suddenly let out a shrill, strange laugh, stretched out his withered hand, and grabbed the cross pendant on Claude's chest.

That astonishing power choked Claude until he almost suffocated, a silent plea coming from his dry lips, but he didn't dare to touch the King's hand with both hands.

"If there really is a God, why does He never respond to my prayers?! If there really is a Saint Xisi, where was He when His people needed Him most?"

Xioden stared fixedly at Claude's eyes, spraying saliva all over his face, not sparing those blasphemous words.

"Answer me, my Archbishop! Where is my Saint Xisi? Where is Marius? And my… Holy Water!"

Ho, Holy Water?

Claude was roared into a daze, but didn't dare to ask more, could only silently endure the King's roar, and prayed for Mr. Marius to come out quickly.

Only that Excellency could appease His Majesty's mood, just didn't know where he had gone recently, as if he had disappeared.

The deafening roar echoed in the hall, shaking the gorgeous stained-glass windows above his head, while the oracle was like it never existed from the beginning.

The most interesting thing in this world is that when everyone thinks the gods will take action, the gods disappear.

But perhaps hearing the humble prayer of Claude, this humble person, just as he was about to be strangled, the sound of footsteps coming from outside the hall saved his life.

Hearing the familiar footsteps, Xioden's fingers loosened slightly, and Claude took the opportunity to breathe heavily, collapsing beside the stone pillar, looking at the door in horror.

The afternoon sun passed through the corridor, and then through the heavy oak door, a slender figure walked in against the dust illuminated by the light.

The man wore a well-tailored black double-breasted suit, a meticulous silver-gray tie at his collar, and spotless white gloves on his hands. And what was impressive was the dark gold pocket watch held in his hand.

If one didn't look at the ruins and the crazy King around, the man's temperament was very much like a butler who had just stepped away from a high-society tea party, preparing to manage the evening banquet for his master.

Cassius, codename "Death Knell," his nickname was as punctual as he was.

In the "Gravedigger" organization of the Ryan Kingdom, he was second only to Marius, and also the only assassin who didn't look like an assassin, but more like a gentleman.

Ignoring the bishop lying on the ground, he walked straight to a place ten steps away from the King and stopped, then put away his pocket watch and knelt on one knee with a painful expression.

"Your Majesty, I am late."

Xioden seemed to have grabbed the last straw, staggering to Cassius, grabbing his shoulders tightly with both hands.

"Where is Marius? Can't you find him either? He really betrayed me…"

Cassius fell into silence.

He didn't directly report Marius's death, but carefully examined the expression on the King's face, seemingly weighing something.

After a long time, his weighing seemed to have a result, and the battle between good and evil in his heart also saw a conclusion, the corners of his mouth gradually hooking into an imperceptible smile.

"Your Majesty, did you hear it?"

"Hear what?" Xioden was slightly stunned, looking around neurotically, especially glancing at the statue behind him.

"Those whispers…"

Cassius's voice became gentle, his eyes gradually revealing a trace of pity and helplessness, "The rats hiding in the dark corners are grinding their teeth. Marius tried to fight them, but… our enemy is too strong; even the faithful Marius Excellency could not withstand the corrosion of the rats."

Xioden's pupils contracted violently, holding his breath, as if he really heard some teeth-aching friction sound in the air.

"You mean…"

"Marius Excellency did not disappear, but was swallowed by the rat swarm. Or rather, he who could not withstand the test was the biggest rat himself."

Cassius stood up, supported the crumbling King, and whispered in his ear with a painful voice.

"According to the intelligence we have… he last appeared in the Twilight Province, and forbade everyone from following him. Undoubtedly, he took our kingdom's most core secret and defected to that lowly clown in the south…"

This sentence was like a sharp blade, cutting open the pus in Xioden's heart. Rather than saying it was the Gravedigger's intelligence, it was better to say it was what Cassius had just read from the King's face.

Whatever he wanted to hear, he said; and no matter how absurd things were, he could weave them into a smooth poem.

Poetry doesn't need to be reasonable.

As long as it's catchy.

"I knew it! This damn traitor! He really betrayed me."

Xioden cursed loudly, his fingernails deeply embedded in Cassius's suit, venting his madness in that shrill roar.

"Not just him, Your Majesty."

Cassius continued to add fuel to the fire, his tone as painful as ever.

"In the shadows of Roland City, there are his accomplices everywhere. Those greedy merchants, those hypocritical nobles, and even…"

His gaze swept over Claude in the corner, leaving a warning look for the bishop who looked terrified.

"…Even perhaps the people closest to you. They are all waiting for your aging, waiting to divide the corpse of this lion—"

"Kill them all! Let the Gravediggers act immediately! Never let these clowns subvert the glory of the Devalu family!"

Before Cassius could finish, Xioden roared and interrupted him, saliva flying.

Cassius bowed slightly, the corners of his mouth hooking into an imperceptible coldness, while Claude, sitting on the ground, didn't dare to make a sound.

This madman…

He will kill everyone!

However, Claude was already powerless to stop it, or rather, he didn't have this function at all; he knew very well that he was just a clown.

Whether in the eyes of the King, or in the eyes of the citizens of Roland City, or… in the eyes of Saint Xisi.

He could only watch as a villain even smaller than himself stole the dagger from under the King's robe.

"…As you wish, Your Majesty, the Gravediggers will act immediately, clearing out all traitors with lightning speed. However, in order not to let this righteous cleansing fall halfway, I need your authorization, allowing me to use all the power in Roland City. Marius's accomplices are too deeply entrenched in this city; only with your support can glory return to your throne."

Xioden showed a sickly and twisted smile, patted Cassius's shoulder hard, and said.

"Go, ring the death knell for them for me, I will authorize all your actions! Cassius, you are the only loyal subject in this world, go and peel the skin off those rats for me, and offer their blood to my Saint Xisi! Let the living know that the Holy Light does not allow them to question and stain!"

"This is my honor."

Cassius performed a perfect noble salute, then turned and walked out of the hall, not stopping for a moment.

Marius was dead, but the vast legacy left by the "Hand of the Former King" still needed someone to inherit.

Before this Excellency was alive, Cassius had always lived in his shadow, not daring to have any extravagant thoughts.

And now, this Excellency was dead, and those ambitions suppressed in the bottom of Cassius's heart were like a suddenly released spring, exploding in an instant.

He not only wanted to inherit everything of Marius but also wanted to seize everything Marius hadn't controlled yet in one go!

The sunlight outside the oak door swallowed Cassius's figure.

Xioden suddenly turned around, walked to the shivering Claude, grabbed his collar, and lifted the bishop from the ground.

"Claude!"

The King's eyes stared straight at him, his turbid pupils full of madness, but also hiding a trace of anticipation like a child.

"Help me ask Saint Xisi, am I doing the right thing? Saint Xisi… He will support me, right?"

Looking at that face like a ghost, Claude felt his heart about to jump out of his throat.

Cold sweat soaked his back, flowed into his eyes along his forehead, but he didn't dare to blink.

As a former clown, what he was best at was observing words and expressions. And he also realized with incomparable clarity that this would be the last stage performance of his life.

If he said one wrong word, the death knell of Saint Roland Cathedral would ring for him first, and he would be the first person to die in this catastrophe.

The instinct to survive finally overwhelmed morality and conscience.

Claude swallowed a mouthful of saliva, forcibly controlled the twitching of his facial muscles, and put on a solemn and respectful appearance.

"Yes… yes, Your Majesty."

His voice trembled, as if it were the excitement after hearing the oracle. "I heard it… I heard His oracle."

"What did He say?" Xioden asked eagerly, as if he didn't know the answer.

Claude closed his eyes, went against his conscience, and said the lie that was enough to push the entire Roland City into hell.

"He said… your decision is full of divine wisdom, and your name will accompany this baptism, bringing unprecedented glory to Roland City."

Xioden was slightly stunned, then burst into ecstatic laughter; that was the greatest appreciation for a clown performing hard.

"I knew it! The Holy Light has not abandoned us, glory will eventually belong to the Devalu family!"

He pushed Claude away, satisfied, and shouted loudly to the attendants outside the door.

"Go to the cellar! Take out my collection! I want to have a drink with my old friend, for this dawn gradually appearing on the horizon!"

In the dusk.

The attendant passed through the corridor, tremblingly brought red wine, and then knelt on the ground.

The crazy King held the wine glass as scarlet as blood high, standing in front of the broken angel stone statue, clinking glasses with the bishop who was trying to stay calm.

"Claude! Have another drink with me, this cup is to toast to tomorrow's prosperity!"

"Yes, Your Majesty… may the Holy Light always protect you, protect our kingdom."

…

The Gravediggers were once the sharpest dagger under the King's sleeve, but now this dagger was brought to the front after Marius's death.

Whether it was the Academy or the Ryan Kingdom, it seemed to have fallen into a strange curse, which was that yesterday's demons were often made to look kind by tomorrow's demons.

The citizens of Roland City would never know what happened somewhere in the Wan Ren Mountains that night, only knowing that overnight, mysterious soldiers wearing black robes suddenly appeared in the streets and alleys, like crows circling over Roland City after a winter fire.

The Royal Guard looked like they had seen ghosts when they saw them, fearing being targeted by these people. And Miss Ma Rui Langbane also rarely put away her young lady temper, even warning Newcas not to provoke these guys.

Newcas certainly wouldn't provoke them; he was a man who was smooth and slick, even treating the once arrogant Sir Skedjin with courtesy, never making enemies.

However, he was still bewildered by the changes in Roland City, and being in the mist, he only felt that the mist was unprecedentedly thick.

⊙Ttkдn⊙￠o

Perhaps—

He still thought the problem too simply; what was piled up in this dark room was more than just gunpowder, and even that pile of gunpowder was just the tip of the iceberg he saw.

But fortunately, the target of this cleansing was not the stonemasons who privately kept the *Encyclopedia*, but the King's courtiers.

The cleansing was silent and efficient.

The confidants who were once loyal to Marius were dragged out of their beds one by one, and before they could cry injustice, their throats were slit by sharp blades.

And those confidants who held core secrets were thrown into the dungeon.

Cassius knew the names of every one of them, because he was also one of Marius's confidants, just not responsible for the Holy Water project.

This cleansing was not only to eliminate dissidents but also to purge the team on a larger scale and to keep the core secrets in his own hands.

He had to make His Majesty rely on and only rely on himself.

Standing in the dark and damp dungeon, Cassius elegantly took out his pocket watch from his arms and glanced at it, seemingly confirming the time for his stage appearance.

At this moment, on the rack in front of him, the adjutant responsible for transporting the Holy Water back to Roland City had been tortured beyond recognition.

"I… I really don't know the formula…"

The adjutant was gasping for breath, his skin and flesh rolled, blood dripping onto the dirty ground.

Gold-tier strength was vulnerable in front of Purple-Crystal-tier power, especially since this Purple-Crystal-tier powerhouse was also skilled in assassination.

"I was just responsible for transportation… those things were transported from the Wan Ren Mountains. Technical matters were the responsibility of Professor Edgar…"

"You know…"

Cassius frowned slightly; this wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. And he believed this was definitely not the answer His Majesty wanted to hear.

He knew very well where his power came from.

If he couldn't satisfy His Majesty's requirements, today he was Cassius above ten thousand people, and tomorrow he would be a prisoner who betrayed the kingdom.

Purple-Crystal-tier powerhouse?

For the Devalu family, who held the card of demigods, Grandmasters were just ants, and he wouldn't arrogantly think he had the strength to replace the King.

Besides, he didn't have the need to do so.

Because the King was actually easy to satisfy; as long as the promised tribute was brought before him, things outside the palace were all fine.

"Professor Edgar lost contact; if you don't want to end up like him, you had better explain everything you know clearly… My patience is limited, and so is His Majesty's."

Cassius stepped forward, his tone as gentle as if asking about the weather outside, but the sound of the pocket watch turning in his hand whipped the adjutant's tense nerves like a whip.

He stopped, staring at those fearful eyes and continuing to ask.

"You were responsible for transportation, weren't you? You should have been responsible for not just bringing the Holy Water, but also sending the raw materials… Tell me, what were the raw materials? Don't say you don't know."

The adjutant's pupils first contracted, then quickly dilated.

In extreme pain and fear, his psychological defense line completely collapsed, and he could only speak incoherently based on his remaining memory.

"It's… soul… pure soul."

"Soul? Packed in what?"

"People…"

"People?"

"Yes, yes, especially children's… I accidentally heard a magic apprentice say that whether it's soul or spirit, theirs are the easiest to purify."

Cassius arched his eyebrows, the cover of the pocket watch in his hand closing with a *click*.

"So that's it, I thought it was some profound magic, didn't expect the truth to be so simple… Hehe."

Was this the secret Marius tried so hard to bury?

No wonder he kept it so carefully; it turned out to be because the principle itself was too simple and could easily be learned by others.

The corners of Cassius's mouth hooked into a victorious smile.

Ryan City was never short of orphans, especially after the winter fire. Although the King sent a large amount of materials to the countryside, the Church still took in many.

"Give him a release."

Cassius waved his hand, and the black-robed soldier beside him pulled out his sword without hesitation, stabbing into the adjutant's chest, ending that sinful life.

No scream sounded.

There was only a sigh of relief.

Cassius, putting away his pocket watch, turned and walked toward the dungeon exit, his leather boots stepping on the blood-stained steps, making a sticky sound.

Passing by the door, he gave the last order of the night to the black-robed guards who had fully taken over the dungeon.

"Go to the orphanage in the lower city."

"Remember, I want the cleanest source."

…

In the night, a torrential rain fell in Roland City, which seemed to be Saint Xisi's weeping, while the doors and windows on the street were tightly closed, like the closed eyes of lambs.

Dozens of pitch-black carriages broke through the rain curtain, with lightning speed, killing their way to the doors of several orphanages in the lower city.

The Gravediggers wearing black robes rudely kicked open the door, the elderly nun tried to open her arms to block, but was kicked into the mud.

She seemed to realize something and shouted at the people behind her.

"Run—children!"

A sword pierced her chest, blood was washed into the mud pit by the rain, staining the ancient and sacred steps into a shocking ferocity.

Her death was meaningless.

In front of the Gravediggers, even the Gravediggers themselves couldn't escape, let alone a group of unarmed children.

"By the order of His Majesty the King! There are spies among you, I need you to come with us."

The soldier in black robes pulled out a handwritten note written by someone, looking expressionlessly at the terrified children standing in the corridor.

Not a trace of dragging feet.

Whether it was the children who were awake or those still in their dreams, they were forcibly dragged out of the monastery and thrown into cage-like carriages.

Cries, pleas for help, and the desperate prayers of the nuns intertwined, forming a suffocating dirge.

However, even the Royal Guard who arrived after hearing the movement could only stand silently in the rain curtain after seeing the pitch-black carriages, watching them drive toward the Royal Prison on the banks of the Running River.

Sir Skedjin gritted his teeth, his fists clenched tightly.

Even at the door of the Roland City Grand Theater, when he was slapped by Miss Ma Rui in front of all the citizens, he had never been as humiliated as he was today.

A tangible slap is nothing more than breaking a person's dignity, and he didn't have that thing at all. And that intangible slap whipped the soul of the Ryan people…

Even animals, only a few animals would watch hunters snatch away their cubs.

In the rain curtain, he seemed to see a face.

That was the stonemason he personally sent to the gallows, the man as firm as a sculpture, staring at him with eyes colder than stone—

Look.

Now we are all animals.

It's just a matter of who dies first.

Deep in Saint Roland Cathedral, Bishop Claude knelt before Saint Xisi's statue, his dry lips muttering something.

"Saint Xisi above, please forgive your disrespectful servant…"

Perhaps he was truly afraid.

This clown, who was good at dancing with long sleeves, had never been as pious in his repentance as he was today.

Through the thick stone walls, he heard the wailing in the rain curtain, and those homeless souls all drifted here.

But he couldn't do anything.

Fear was like an invisible giant hand, pressing tightly on his knees, making him unable to stand up and do what a bishop should do.

Claude wept bitterly, his forehead hitting the cold floor tiles heavily, causing blood to flow, to the point of staining the floor in front of the statue red.

However, the statue remained silent.

Perhaps the judgment had already begun, it was just that he had only just felt the pain.

For a bishop who had been a clown for decades, whether it was his repentance or his atonement, everything came too late…

The torrential rain seemed to drown the entire Roland City, and behind the heavy rain curtain, the roaring artillery fire had just drowned the valley filled with death.

Mid-September, Os Calendar 1054.

Lasting two and a half months, the defense line deployed by the Rotten Clan in Death Valley finally loosened before the complete arrival of autumn.

Because the railway running through the territory of Count Spinor finally reached the mountains.

Generally speaking, the railway over mountains and ridges was not easy to walk, but the engineering spiders of the Necropolis were all good at digging holes.

After careful pre-war preparations, the three-race coalition concentrated superior forces and ammunition, launching a joint total attack from the air, ground, and underground under the cover of artillery and magic!

The coordinated combat units were like precision-running gears.

Although they lacked communication equipment and couldn't achieve coordination in information, it was still enough to form a dimensionality reduction strike for the ratmen fighting on their own.

Where had the ratmen, still stuck in the last era, seen such a battle, and were immediately beaten until they couldn't find north.

Even the "crystalline aberrations" that constantly emerged from the black mist couldn't stop the mighty torrent, instead accelerating the death of the ratmen.

A corner of the vast battlefield.

The Ryan Battalion of the Campbell First Mountain Infantry Regiment, under the cover of the flank machine gun position, captured another mountain and liberated the Ryan people kept in captivity in the caves.

They were ragged, emaciated, and there was no light in their dim eyes, just like the Ryan people who had been rescued earlier.

Everyone was very surprised, not expecting them to still be alive after so long; the ratmen here actually didn't kill them all.

This was simply a miracle.

Just as everyone exclaimed in disbelief, a young man named Hart didn't say anything, just stepped forward to smash the shackles of the cage with his gun butt, and then handed his hand to the person closest to him.

"Hold on to me."

That gradually rekindled light was passing from one pair of pupils to another.

Three months ago, he, who should have died of wound infection, was saved by a group of kind knights and a beautiful nun.

Now—

It was his turn to save his own compatriots. ===== CHAPTER 568 =====