Those enormous beasts, each towering far above the city walls, their bodies covered in rigid scales that gleamed with a chilling glimmer under the eerie blue moonlight. Ordinary magic and weapons could hardly penetrate their skin

The atmosphere atop the city wall turned tense once more. Compared to the cannon fodder sent earlier for attrition, the giant beasts appearing now were undoubtedly the main force!

"But on our side, I’m certainly not the main force either," Professor Pulan murmured softly.

As soon as his words fell, another voice chuckled.

"Truly worthy of being the high disciple of MelaDormir. To activate such a combined magical matrix in such a short time, and with such power—one cannot help but admire!"

An elderly man clad in a traditional mage’s robe appeared beside him, his wide brimmed mage’s hat shadowing a face full of sincere praise.

Tower of Origin.

Dodgy Sloor.

Professor Pulan nodded in greeting and replied, “I’m not MelaDormir’s disciple. I only received some guidance from her in my youth and wouldn’t dare to call myself one of her great disciples.”

“Oh?” Dodgy wasn’t particularly disappointed by this revelation; instead, his gaze grew even more fervent.

“To achieve such accomplishments simply from guidance alone—just thinking about MelaDormir’s actual disciples, how extraordinary they might be—it fills me with curiosity. I wish to have long conversations with them, exploring the pinnacle of magic together.”

“…”

Professor Pulan’s face twitched violently. *That so-called 'disciple' you long to meet can still only pull off a single Lighting Spell!*

“Well, however,” Dodgy said with a smirk. “There’s no time for lengthy discussions now. But should the opportunity arise, I’ll certainly visit the Santa Maria College for enlightenment.”

With these parting words, Dodgy suddenly shot upwards, ascending to a much higher altitude, casting his gaze over the entire brutal and blood-soaked battlefield.

“What a perfect... hunting ground,” he murmured softly, sweeping his wide sleeves. Countless massive magical formations began to materialize out of thin air. Though yet unactivated, they exuded a palpable aura distinctly different from this place.

Suddenly, Dodgy struck his own chest and spat a mouthful of blood, which split itself evenly and poured into the newly formed matrices. His vitality waned visibly, but his eyes burned brighter with excitement.

“Come now, sons,” Dodgy bellowed fanatically, spreading his arms wide.

“—Dinner is served!”

Roar—

Earth-shaking roars erupted as equally grotesque and massive monsters emerged from the dimensional spaces linked to the arrays, shaking land and sky.

Dragons.

Mountain trolls.

Giants.

Fire beasts.

As one of the world's most elite summoners, Dodgy Sloor had summoned monstrosities from Abyssal seas, none of which were ordinary creatures. Every single one of them was a dominant force capable of ruling a region on the continent!

Thus began the clash between monster and monster.

…

…

“Seems like we still have the advantage?”

In the Throne Hall, several figures remained motionless. Archbishop Canterbury watched the monster-on-monster carnage with great interest, chuckling lightheartedly as he spoke.

The brutal clash was utterly devoid of beauty. For creatures of such colossal stature, ordinary magic had long lost its significance; instead, claws and fangs proved to be the most effective weapons.

But then again, Dodgy wasn’t fighting alone here. With the overwhelming fire-support aiding him, the beasts he summoned quickly gained the upper hand, pushing the frontline back significantly.

“But...”

Archbishop Canterbury’s expression subtly shifted, suddenly growing grave as he spoke mid-thought.

His gaze drifted toward the depths of the blackened ocean, where a massive shadow rapidly surged toward the surface.

Its colossal form made the entire ocean seem darker and heavier.

*Belland* was a city without a real sea.

When constructing this Shadow City, *Moon of Silence* hadn’t needed to use more divine power to create a sea that doesn't exist.

If it had done so, it was for a reason.

And now, the reason surfaced.

A sonorous and chilling cry rose from the depths, permeating the heavens.

A whale song.

The kind that shakes souls—whale song.

The apocalyptic-level sea monster, *Leviathan*, lurking in the ocean’s depths, had finally launched her first move.

No, this wasn’t even an attack.

It was merely her natural oppressive presence!

Canterbury frowned slightly and shook off the soul-penetrating effect. But when he looked back to the battlefield, he saw the tide of war shift instantly.

Under the horrifying aura emanating from the apocalyptic-level monster, half the beasts Dodgy had summoned betrayed him in a heartbeat!

No wonder MelaDormir claimed he was an embarrassment—summoning too many creatures at once had forgotten that their overwhelming numbers weakened their magical connection to him!

The situation flipped on its head: the sudden betrayal caused breaches in the first line of defense—the steel bastion torn open in multiple spots.

A flood of enemies surged through, racing toward the second defensive line manned by royal knights, adventurers, elite mercenaries, and the fortified nobles.

Were it not for the combined efforts of Professor Pulan and the strong defenders atop the wall who shielded most of the troops, the casualties would have been catastrophic by now.

“Sigh...”

Around the Round Table, a collective sigh echoed.

Several figures rose, circlets of dazzling light were activated, and they moved to confront the apocalyptic-level monstrosity bequeathed the name “Disaster.”

For the first time, an unprecedented battle erupted. Blinding radiance lit up the Shadow City, turning night into day.

Archbishop Canterbury leaned back in his chair, still unmoving.

But he had already acted. Sacred light emanated like a soft breeze, and wherever it touched, injuries healed by half. Fear embedded within hearts was gently dispelled.

This single move had a considerable effect. Under the holy light’s embrace, the pampered nobles holding the second line didn’t retreat or scatter but instead pulled out rare and surprising artifacts, forcing the enemy’s offense back time and again.

“Such deft strategies, Your Majesty,” Canterbury remarked with an amused smile upon noting the gradually stabilizing frontlines regaining advantages.

“Oh?”

This time Aldrich III, who hadn’t even flinched when Leviathan surfaced, finally opened his eyes. “Archbishop, what makes you say that?”

“By rallying all factions against the dark god and dragging those pesky nobles in as shields, should victory follow, your Majesty’s authority will likely reach unprecedented heights. After being weakened so thoroughly, those rebellious factions will never challenge you again.”

“Does the Archbishop disapprove?”

“From the Church’s standpoint,” Canterbury replied, his tone amiable, “it wouldn’t be ideal for an empire entirely beyond our control to emerge on the continent. However…”

Archbishop Canterbury’s smile grew wider.

“For us, it might prove rather a fortune.”

“...Heh.”

Aldrich III didn’t respond directly, letting out only a mocking laugh.

Suddenly rising from the throne, he walked toward the empty wall—its once-solid barrier reduced to ruins—and gazed upon the battlefield for the first time.

“Hathaway.”

“At your service.”

“How's the predictions?”

“Something feels off…”

Hathaway, surrounded by assistants, sketched calculations furiously; sweat glistened on her brow.

“It seems unusual for Moon of Silence to behave this way,” she said, her tone laced with concern.

“Why?”

“No matter how I simulate it, I find no victory scenario for the Moon of Silence.”

Growing agitated, Hathaway adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses and elaborated:

“Yes, if constructing a fully-fledged divine kingdom is its goal, Belland—with its immense population—would be the ideal site. However—

This is Belland, after all.”

As the capital of the Leopard Empire, the continent's most prosperous city, myriad factions maintained headquarters or branches here. The streets were practically teeming with *The Crowneds*. Attempting to breach this was far from simple.

Moreover, even if the Shadow City were conquered, the Santa Maria College remained under MelaDormir’s protection.

Although she couldn’t leave the college grounds, previous attacks had proven definitively that, barring the dark god's physical descent in full form, there was no way she could be defeated.

Her presence alone was akin to a nail firmly driven. As long as she remained active, Moon of Silence could never fully transform Belland into his divine kingdom!

“That is to say, it is very likely that this place is a feint by it in order to conceal its true purpose......?”

“That's right, but we can't rule out the possibility of the Moon actually going crazy, after all, it's an Dark God, and it's hard for us to speculate on its moves.”

Hathaway speculated excitedly.

“Indeed,” Aldrich remarked absently, tapping the hilt of his sword as he brooded over her words.

Suddenly, as if resolving his doubts, he turned toward the stone chair occupied by a slumberous elder.

“Can I truly trust you?” Aldrich III asked directly.

The elderly man opened his murky eyes and met Aldrich’s penetrating gaze.

After a long silence, he answered.

“Of course, Your Majesty. You can always trust me.”

“Then the millions lives of Belland... I leave to you,” Aldrich declared in an icy monotone.

“Your Majesty overstates,” the elder murmured, lowering his gaze so his expression remained unseen. “I merely intend to fulfill my duty—that’s all.”

“Then go.”

“As you command.”

The elder’s figure vanished gradually, only now did everyone realize his presence had been mere projection.

“To so seamlessly blend reality and illusion...” Archbishop Canterbury sighed in admiration. “Not even I realized it. True to form, the Sword Knight.”

“Archbishop.”

Once the elder departed, Aldrich III spoke softly.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“There’s something you misunderstood earlier.”

“Pray, enlighten me.”

“Contrary to your assumption, I don’t intend to weaken the nobility. Their involvement is simply because they are Leopoldians—inhabitants of Belland—and must contribute to defending this nation, this city. And you all are no exception.”

With that, Aldrich III suddenly stepped forward—onto thin air.

In that instant, an unparalleled aura erupted from this seemingly nonchalant man’s not particularly tall frame.

“What—?”

Archbishop Canterbury’s heart clenched; panic flashed within his wide eyes as he stared at Aldrich III in shock.

Above the emperor's head, the resplendent crown bore an inscription of the supreme decree, far more imposing than a gem-studded diadem.

"How is this possible? The royal curse—how did you manage to break it…?"

The Archbishop blurted out in disbelief.

"I don’t care whether those nobles share the same mind with me or not, for in my eyes, they are nothing more than a pack of jesters."

Aldrich III paid no heed to the Archbishop’s insolent words. Step by step, he proceeded onward.

He casually tore off the cumbersome ceremonial robe that hindered him, letting the fierce winds of the high sky carry it away.

He reached for the sword at his waist, gripping it tightly.

In that instant, the entire world fell silent—there was not a single sound.

Except for—the thunder of the sword!

In this moment, an unparalleled majesty gathered in the air. As the blade was drawn, even Archbishop Canterbury couldn’t suppress the instinctive urge to kneel.

The Sword of the King.

The sacred artifact of authority passed down through generations of the Leopold Royal Family.

As long as one was acknowledged by it, even the weakest individual, untrained in combat, could wield power surpassing that of an ordinary Crowned.

Since its creation, this was the very first time it was wielded by a true Crowned.

Aldrich swung the sword—a single slash.

The black ocean was instantly cleaved in two.

He did not even cast a glance at the looming calamity that had been forced to emerge from the sea, a terror so immense it would take multiple Crowned to suppress it. His gaze was fixed solely on the azure moon finally revealed in full as the ocean parted.

"Moon of Silence," Aldrich murmured softly, yet his voice roared like thunder, deafeningly loud.

"As the price for trespassing upon my land, leave your projection behind."