Chapter 317
Chapter 317: For the Glory of the Northern God!
Meanwhile, the first-class carriage had fallen into a state of disorder.
Ceramic shards slid downward in the direction of gravity, and the crystal coffee table came crashing heavily onto the carriage floor.
The leather sofas had piled up near the walls of the carriage, lying silently in the chaotic and empty room.
Not a trace remained of its former luxurious appearance.
Auréliane pressed her hand against her forehead, shaking it again and again, trying to shake off the dizziness clouding her mind.
Just now—just now—she had lived through a bizarre fluctuation of gravity.
The train had been forced to a halt after a violent collision, and not long after, the entire train suffered another tremendous impact, then plunged rapidly downward through the air.
Then, before it could finish falling, something seemed to seize the entire carriage and brought it to a sharp, sudden stop.
Now, everything around the first-class carriage was floating.
Auréliane struggled to climb free of the sofa, rubbing her head, wrenching herself with difficulty from its stubborn grip.
What had just happened?
She tried to recall.
It seemed that upon detecting some kind of threat, Xiangyilan had suddenly crouched low.
From her throat came a continuous, rumbling growl.
In that moment, Xiangyilan had seemed to lose her usual calm and grace.
She had become something entirely like a wild beast.
In the end, she had crouched low—and then unleashed a ferocious roar toward the carriage window.
【Piercing Shriek】
The surrounding air was compressed by the wave of sound, and the terrifying air current transformed into a surging tide beneath that furious cry.
Even the floor had been torn open by the impact, leaving a deep gash, with splinters of wood sent flying in all directions.
At the time, Auréliane had covered her ears.
Before she could even react, she had already looked up to see—
The ceiling of the carriage, somehow, had been stained and covered by countless streams of black ink, which were slowly dripping down into the carriage's interior.
The moment that ink touched the floor, it began to writhe, the liquid taking on humanoid shapes.
Anyone could see that these revolting, filth-ridden things were absolutely not anything normal.
But just as Auréliane was preparing to launch an attack against these creatures—
They suddenly collapsed to the floor once more, shattering into fragments and dispersing in all directions.
This left Auréliane utterly baffled.
These monsters that had just appeared—how had they simply dropped dead?
Could it be because of Xiangyilan's roar just moments ago—
That they had already been reduced to a state of death even before they could act?
Then came the carriage's collision, and everything ground to a halt.
But then—where was Xiangyilan?
The thought jolted Auréliane to her feet, and she began searching the area around her.
The surrounding carriages had had their Magic Power supply severed by the force of the violent collision.
The once-bright carriage had already grown dim.
Fortunately, Auréliane was a Mage.
She casually ignited a flame in her hand, illuminating the carriage enough to see clearly.
By its light, she spotted Xiangyilan lying prone on the floor.
At the sight, Auréliane cast aside all other concerns and ran to Xiangyilan's side, helping the small Cat-girl to her feet.
She supported the little Cat-girl over to the sofa, caught her breath, and then took stock of Xiangyilan's current condition.
At this moment, she had fallen into a light state of unconsciousness.
Perhaps it was because that roar just now had demanded too much effort, leaving Xiangyilan's body somewhat drained—weakened to the point of collapse.
The thought brought a wave of puzzlement washing over Auréliane.
What Magic had Xiangyilan used just now?
The power of that roar was absolutely not that of an ordinary shout.
And yet she had not sensed any flow of Magic Power from Xiangyilan at all.
Fortunately, Xiangyilan's condition was not poor—merely somewhat exhausted.
Left to rest on her own for a while, she would recover before long.
She leaned in briefly to catch the scent from Xiangyilan's fur, and Auréliane found herself oddly at ease.
The little Cat-girl's scent really was pleasant.
Just as she had said herself—there was a faint, delicate fragrance of vanilla.
"No wonder she's called Xiangyilan."
With that done, she began slowly making her way toward the window.
She urgently wanted to know—what on earth had happened outside?
But then, the sight before her eyes—dreamlike and surreal—struck Auréliane's gaze again and again, plunging her instantly into boundless shock.
The carriages of the Magic Train had been separated into individual sections, each one floating irregularly in the air as though it had nothing to hold it up.
They hung freely in the sky's gentle embrace, like toys tossed aside carelessly by a child, strewn across the pitch-black expanse.
In that moment, it was as though time itself had stopped.
The gorge concealed in the depths below was bottomless, and a silent dread pressed toward Auréliane like some unseen force from the void.
She could only take a few steps back.
The sky had become frighteningly dark—yet not because of cloud cover.
The entire sky seemed as though it had been contaminated by something, swallowed by an enormous, impenetrable blackness.
Chaotic tentacles pierced through the dark fog, reaching toward the depths of the gorge below.
And within that black swirling vortex, an enormous yellow pupil blinked open, gazing restlessly across the entire world.
Around the eye, something like black ink congealed into droplets, falling in a steady drip, drip, drip.
In mere seconds, that black ink would seep its way into the carriages.
"By the Goddess… cultists!?"
Just days ago, Auréliane had seen those cultists at the Banquet.
But the filth they carried bore no comparison whatsoever to the terror before her now.
It was like a monster that had blotted out the heavens, bringing all fear and malice upon the people of the world.
Beyond the Empire's borders—how could there exist a monster this terrifying?
Then, all at once, a voice that could set Auréliane's heart at ease rang out from beside her.
"They circle the Empire's outer borders, looking for a chance to slip through."
"Because they don't dare venture deeper inside."
Auréliane couldn't help but look up toward the source of the voice.
The sight before her left her momentarily dazed.
Viktor stood with both hands in his pockets, stepping through the air, walking toward her one step at a time.
Five-colored Magic Power surged from every direction beneath his feet, condensing high in the sky into a transparent, shimmering staircase of shifting hues.
It was as though the sky had carved out a brand new path for him, sweeping rapidly in from the clouds to gather beneath him, forming the steps on which he walked.
The gleaming staircase flickered without cease, as though it had robbed all color from the sky around it.
His stride was confident and steady, his unhurried expression filled with ease—as though one could always sense a kind of tranquil elegance from him, no matter the moment.
Auréliane raised her head, watching Viktor walk toward her from the sky, and for a moment she stood completely still.
"The Empire is forbidden ground to them."
Yet only Viktor truly understood.
In less than a year's time, Aubrey would no longer have the capacity to govern the Empire.
That would be the period when his life was hanging by a thread.
During that time, Aubrey would have no heart left for involvement in any affairs.
And his heirs, amid their feuding, would bare their cold and cutting fangs.
That would be the period of their most violent struggle for power.
The Second Prince, Owaise, would be the first to tear a gaping breach in the Empire.
He would bring in Demons—let them flood through every corner of the Empire.
And so the Demon Invasion would begin.
Because of the Demon Invasion, the Empire would descend into chaos.
The cultists would seize their chance.
They would complete the most fanatical of rituals, and make Gwen the earthly vessel of the Goddess of Justice.
And so, in the guise of the most perfect Knight of Justice, she would drive every last Demon that had invaded the Empire.
At the same time—
The Rether Family, standing behind the First Prince, would—in order to oppose the Demons and curb the cultists' movements—create the ultimate weapon born for the purpose of protecting humanity.
Safirose, in her most perfect form, would thus be born.
Yet even so, the cultists' infiltration would have already poisoned the Empire's roots. Like a cancer, it could not be excised.
Unless Gwen died early—otherwise, they were destined to witness the arrival of the Goddess.
The Empire's gradual collapse in the future was a path that could already be traced.
And so, if one wished to prevent the beginning of this before it could unfold—
Viktor had to champion Auréliane's ascent to power ahead of schedule.
"Rest for now, Your Highness."
Viktor spoke in a casual tone, carrying within it a measure of reassurance, as he addressed Auréliane.
His hands in his pockets, his voice gentle, he was like a warm ray of sunlight washing over Auréliane even in the midst of this chaotic crisis.
He let her see hope.
"Once I've dealt with everything, we'll set off immediately."
Auréliane blinked, momentarily startled.
Then, all at once, the 5 enormous hands behind Viktor opened simultaneously.
Those purple-black lightning palms reached into the churning, pitch-black sky, and clenched tight.
In an instant, the clouds overturned—like dragons and serpents in a wild dance—gathering together as a cascade of ashen chaos began to churn and roil.
In that moment, Auréliane saw it clearly.
The purple lightning coiled like an enormous serpent hundreds of meters long, raging wildly high in the sky, electric arcs darting like shuttles, flickering without end.
The next second, the lightning erupted in a violent burst, descending from the heavens, transforming into a colossal lightning spike that drove hard and true into that deep-black, profane mass below.
The wind stilled and swayed suddenly, the air splitting apart under the tremendous shockwave—like a shackle made flesh, locking the lightning spike into that chaotic black abomination.
The twisted creature, struck by this terrifying blow, let out an agonized, hideous shriek.
Countless tentacles were ripped back from the depths of the gorge, writhing and coiling.
Electric arcs blazed swiftly across the body of that foul, foreign thing, and the pain forced its enormous pupil to clench tightly shut.
A terrifying force instantly surged upward, and the pitch-black terror suddenly converged, attempting to corrupt the entire world completely.
In this moment, its hatred had locked entirely onto Viktor's body.
Viktor fixed his gaze on the terrifying cultist before him, and on his otherwise impassive face there flickered an almost imperceptible faint smile.
Because the monster's HP bar and level had appeared.
【Devotee of the Goddess】×10,000
Lv60
Ten thousand Devotees of the Goddess had condensed their fanatical convictions into a physical form—like a mass of chaos—giving rise to this twisted, profane shape.
Their purpose was singular: to summon the Goddess of Justice back into the world.
They were bound to come to this place. They were bound to come for Gwen.
For the orthodox succession of the Goddess.
When the Council had declared the Goddess's orthodoxy, these Devotees had grown all the more frantic.
The reason they had begun circling the Empire's borders was to reclaim what they believed was their rightful Goddess.
And yet—
Weija's lone eye began to gradually flicker with a faint blue glow.
At the same moment, Viktor's eyes lit up with the same light, as surging Magic Power rapidly welled up within them.
Link successful.
The next second, Viktor's Coat was swiftly covered by purple-black stripes.
The elemental giant hand blazing with lightning, now infused with boundless Magic Power, began to rapidly expand, growing far larger than before.
"I have no desire to see the age of divine descent arrive ahead of schedule."
"So—"
Boom!
A burst of white tore a fissure through the black clouds, and lightning came pouring through it.
Countless bolts of thunder erupted all at once across the sky, transforming into wildly dancing, flickering silver serpents that surged and swayed between the black clouds.
Terrifying electric arcs, dense with brilliant flashing light, began setting the sky itself ablaze.
Several streams of purple-black lightning swiftly twisted behind Viktor, as though connecting him to the entire sky.
Electrical light began emanating from all around him, and lightning moved across his body as freely as a fish in water, rushing along every surface.
Viktor's eyes erupted with a burst of purple radiance, and the Coat behind him was swept up high by the chaotic air currents.
He floated in the high sky, his expression calm—beneath the lightning, his face remained utterly composed.
Viktor's hands stayed in his pockets, his gaze cold and piercing:
"Would you all kindly—"
"Get as far away as possible?"