Chapter 375: Three Sentences That Made Players Dismantle My Castle

It does sound exaggerated, but such a situation is actually normal.

The Holy Light Church, with its vast family and enterprise, isn't scared of any loss; moreover, as these insects are busy harming each other, the surrounding environment appears to have gotten better.

And great nobles such as Jueqiao Fengying, with their deep pockets, look down on cooperating with those filthy scum, and even want to take the chance to hunt them down, to see if they can also make a profit.

Thus, faced with the twin threats of a mysterious assassin and the Pioneers, the minor nobles and small churches, having no choice, naturally cling together like little monkeys.

Although the Shadow Church, as a veteran, looks down on these locals who can only survive by skulking in the southern kingdom mountains and would lose everything if they slip up.

So, seeing them try to unite, while politely declining the invitation, they merely gave them a stone tablet for temporary contact, as a token of goodwill.

On the noble side, faced with the grand invitation of the Evil God Church, evidently a figure of sufficient weight chose to attend in person.

He was an elderly gentleman, whose rank was just below the Cold Iron Priest, perpetually wearing a stern Sima expression, a feudal lord whose fief lay in the Flame Mountain region, holding the title of Count.

However, among the lords there are hierarchies; though both are Counts, his wealth is clearly inferior to Fengying's, otherwise he wouldn't have joined such a low‑tier group.

Moreover, even so, the chasm between great and minor nobles remains; just look at the Flame Mountain Count's strained, grimace, as if he'd suffered a colossal insult.

Thus, the reason he deigned to descend to the underground cavern to negotiate with these country bumpkins he usually despises is tied to a very heavyweight, ruthless scheme.

—Indeed, he is the unlucky fellow whose three sentences caused the Father's Sorrow Alliance to dismantle the castle that his family spent over two hundred years and countless generations of wealth building.

When the whole net was gossiping, everyone thought the White Eagle was being overbearing as usual, deliberately finding an excuse to strike this old figure who had previously had a minor dispute with them.

After all, this… is also considered their traditional art, isn't it?

Moreover, at least this time there truly were Evil God believers, not just someone grabbing a bottle of detergent and swaggering at the Adhesive Nation congress to showcase shamelessness.

But…

That old fellow only formally allied with the White Eagle the day before yesterday, and today he appears at the negotiation table where numerous Evil God Churches seek unified cooperation; such speed is almost too fast.

One can say that this time everyone really wronged the White-headed Eagle—this damn Flame Mountain Count truly has a liaison with Evil God believers!

However, the fundamental reason he entered this mess is his own decline in skill; his ability is too low to endure a high‑level game.

Even fallen gold would sweat more than this group playing a low‑level game; they can't rise, can't fall, and this lifetime they're stuck at, Xiao Bai.

Therefore, to everyone present, he remains an absolutely untouchable, only to be clung to, colossal being.

Thus, upon hearing that this elderly gentleman is the legendary Flame Mountain Count, everyone's gaze showed fervor, as if they were ready to kneel on the spot, shout "Father", and beg for a bite to eat.

And the Flame Mountain Count, undoubtedly accustomed to such gazes, found the feeling of being surrounded by stars quite gratifying, and his grim expression eased considerably.

Yet, after the dissipation, he politely greeted, gave a slight nod, and maintained his noble silence.

Of course, the Golden Great Being's aloofness does not dampen the Silver junior cultivators' enthusiasm; although they still find each other a bit irritating, they are ultimately of the same kind and began to "show up" in the harmonious atmosphere.

Moreover, it must be said that the nobles indeed have more quality than these half‑educated illiterate believers; when they complain, they not only avoid swearing, but are also very orderly.

One of them, whose writing was fairly good, even drafted a document with a pamphlet‑like tone; indeed, aside from a few typos, it even included punctuation!

But when the Cold Iron Priest finally finished his introduction and was about to move to tonight's main topic, the long‑silent Count furrowed his brow.

—In fact he had been frowning all along; this time it was just deeper.

"Hm? The only idle ones coming tonight are just these few?"

That remark gave everyone no face, but since his wrist is the strongest, the Cold Iron Priest could only smile wryly.

"Ha ha, Count, we have indeed only invited these for now, but… we are still courting and contacting others, so those present are not the entirety of our alliance."

Yet the Flame Mountain Count, being a seasoned veteran in the noble circle, would never believe such a perfunctory answer.

So he let out a cold snort, his voice low as he said,

"I don't want to hear your explanation, incompetent priest; I just want to know whether anyone from the Shadow Church has actually arrived?"

"Um… actually they expressed a strong willingness, for example they gave me this contact spell! But…"

Bang!

Unable to bear it any longer, the Flame Mountain Count hammered the table hard, staring intently into the Cold Iron Priest's eyes.

"This is not what we agreed upon! You petty Evil God believer, how dare you deceive a noble kingdom Count!"

He was, of course, furious!

Since after the damned Pioneers blew up his castle, the Flame Mountain Count's first action was not immediate revenge—eradicating the barbarians who dared offend him—but to sneak into this rat‑infested den for a meeting.

That shows that with his strength he lacks confidence to settle this band of thieves; he's scared, even though he commands a loyal knight of up to level 42!

Thus, for him, the expectation of this meeting is not to waste words with these useless beings.

After all, even if he allied with them, it would probably just serve as a side dish for the Pioneers.

His goal is actually to find a sufficiently heavyweight ally—a partner heavy enough to at least make a round at the great nobles' card table!

—For example, the Shadow Church.

But now there isn't one! They look down on this place, so they didn't come!

Then why did he come here?

Is his brain diseased, wanting to savor the stench of these idiots!?

Nobles indeed value etiquette, but that etiquette is mutual; these are just a bunch of useless trash, what good face should they be given?

"Hm, farewell!"

So the Flame Mountain Count sprang up, about to stride toward the main gate.

The Cold Iron Priest lunged to pursue, but a knight stepped forward, blocking his path with an unsheathed sword, a rumbling sound, blood surging.

"Heretic, the only thing you need to do is open the door!"

"You—"

Even a mud figure has a spark of anger, let alone an Evil God believer whose spirit is already splendid.

Thus, while the Cold Iron Priest clenched his teeth, several others couldn't help but clench their fists.

……

Actually, thinking it over, if you want to cut losses, besides turning off the faucet quickly, you could also add more water to the basin.

Moreover, the Flame Mountain Count clearly can't afford to provoke the Pioneers, which is why he came here to negotiate with them.

So is he really a very sturdy thigh? Not necessarily.

Then, the nobles need money and land, the believers need people and shelter, the group's needs actually don't conflict.

Although the group is large and has big appetites, they often clash due to too many wolves and too little meat.

But the count is a great lord, he's…… all…… big…… that……

Wouldn't it be perfect to let everyone eat their fill?

Even……

More than enough?

Could we add another meal?

Then the people at the table began exchanging glances in silence; soon, the few who still held some doubt and resistance were also assimilated.

Well done.

The count's lair was just blown up, his foundations unstable—this is heavenly timing.

This is the headquarters of the Cold Iron Church, the key is in our hands—this is earthly advantage.

The group is large and mostly elite—this is human harmony.

Alas, heaven wants him dead, not my fault!

Therefore.

Opportunity must not be lost, time will not come again!

Starve the timid, burst the bold—let's do it!

But just as the count reached the door, the knight who felt the threat was enough also turned his back, and everyone reached for their weapons, preparing for a swarm of ants devouring an elephant, a black‑on‑black fight.

Suddenly, a strange wind blew through the half‑sealed underground chamber, extinguishing all the torches.

No!

It's not the wind!

This is just a misdirection from everyday logic; clearly something has descended, completely covering them like an invisible hand.

"Who goes there!"

That noble knight was indeed utterly loyal, instantly drawing his waist sword, gripping the count according to remembered direction, and shielding him tightly behind himself.

But what he usually uses is at most fire magic enchanted on his sword's edge; since it's not holy light, even at full power it emits no glow.

And with his question, a faint echo came from the darkness.

"Who are you? Weren't you the ones calling me?"

"Die!"

However, the knight in combat stance cares not what the enemy says, only launching an attack in the direction the sound came from.

But when his swift, almost teleporting strike landed, his sword felt nothing unusual—it completely missed!

Moreover, the next second, a whooshing wind and a mocking remark reached his ears.

"Lord Count, your knight seems quite lacking in upbringing."

"Ugh..."

Some unknown blunt instrument struck his head with great force; even with a sturdy, enchanted helmet, the knight felt his head buzzing.

But when combat becomes instinct, even a temporarily offline mind doesn't affect the turn of motion, so his body had no hesitation, thrusting a sword toward the incoming attack.

Then, of course, it missed again!

Furthermore, the enemy gave him no chance to counter; that mysterious blunt instrument seemed to split into four, dancing wildly in the pitch‑dark where five fingers cannot be seen.

And after consecutively crushing his left arm, right leg, and chest, it finally hammered hard into his belly.

"Pfft..."

Unable to hold back, the knight spat a mouthful of blood, lost his fighting ability, and fell to the ground together with his cracked breastplate.

And as his body collapsed powerlessly, all the concealed light sources in the room instantly brightened, letting him see what the powerful being standing before him actually was.

But it was neither the hideous iron‑rod skeleton he imagined, nor a hammer‑wielding barbarian like a little giant.

Quite the opposite, it was a pitch‑black figure, light as a shadow floating in midair.

And as his dazed thoughts faded, before he passed out completely, his mind kept echoing a fragmented phrase.

……It's……this……thing……that……defeated……me……?

Able to extinguish all lights, descend from the sky, and beat a level‑42 fire‑magic knight unconscious with fists and feet in ten seconds.

This person is none other than Ji Ming, who had been watching from the ceiling for a long time.

Seeing that the only entity that could possibly affect his actions was now incapacitated, he relaxed a little and turned his head to look around.

He saw that before him, the Flame Mountain Count had been frightened into sitting on the ground; the old thing's usual aristocratic tone, which he liked to affect, failed completely, leaving him devoid of dignity.

And behind him, the priests who had been stroking their beards and glaring at each other were now huddled tightly with the young nobles, using their strength to act out what it means to be rats in the same hole.

Therefore, as everyone knows, whether snake or rat, upon seeing a sudden bright light they would hurriedly hide, so……

"Ghost……ghost ghost ghost……ghost……"

With a shriek, they scattered wildly, together with their lackeys beginning a frantic Brownian motion in the secret chamber, the sound of clattering collisions and falls never ceasing.

Ji Ming standing in the midst of the chaos. jpg

"Silence!"

"Ah!"

All that can be said is that this intimidation effect is truly too strong; even without using the Suggestion Technique, he couldn't stop their momentum.

And after analyzing that the count was useless, survival depending solely on his own state, the trembling Cold Iron Priest plucked up courage, simply taking the contact spell given by the Shadow Church and approaching.

Opening his mouth was just to bluff. "Sir, I don't know what business brings you here, but to be frank, we actually have some minor ties with the Shadow Church, so please……"

I don't know what brings you here, Sir. To be frank, we actually have a small connection with the Shadow Church, so please…

Then he saw the spell he had been gripping tightly in his hand fly up into the air, and, pulled by a faint shadow, it fell into the hand of that 'person'.

"What relation? I'm from the Shadow Church—how could I not know we have a relation?"

The Cold Iron Divine Official froze for a moment, and a hint of fawning quickly appeared on his face.

"My lord! My lord! I knew you would definitely come, my lord! We've been avoiding the main topic precisely because we knew you would definitely come!"

Having said that, he hurriedly darted back to the long table, and vigorously wiped the chair he had just enjoyed for a second with his sleeve.

"My lord, please sit! Sit! This seat has actually been reserved for you all along! Please!"

Ji Ming: ……awesome, truly capable.