Chapter 285 - 284: The Secret Conclave of Oblivion

Chapter 285 - 284: The Secret Conclave of Oblivion

The female dean of the Oblivion Association, Beltira, sat in her place, watching with a keen interest the black-robed figures around her. Her frivolous and relaxed attitude was testing the nerves of every archon present; however, no one dared to openly criticize her conduct.

Although everyone here was an "archon" of the church, the same title did not imply the same status. Everyone who had reached the upper echelons of the Oblivion Association knew that the woman named Beltira held a special position and... significance within the church. No one knew who this woman was before she became an archon of the Oblivion Association, nor did anyone know her real surname and origin. But one thing everyone knew was that Beltira had a direct connection with the highest leader of the Oblivion Association, the "Archbishop." When the Archbishop entered the state of sleep, Beltira was the only one who could communicate with him, awaken him, or convey his decrees.

It was this uniqueness that afforded Beltira certain privileges here.

"Gentlemen, ah, and ladies," Beltira said unhurriedly, glancing specifically at the two women among the black-robed figures. They were not only the few female archons present but also had distinct elven features. Noticing Beltira’s gaze, these two elven fallen Druids nodded slightly, a sign of acknowledgment, and simultaneously spoke, "Beltira, what instructions does the Archbishop have?"

"The Archbishop is still asleep, recovering from the drain caused by earlier synchronization with the ’body of the fake god’. So, I’m here to hear your opinions on his behalf," Beltira leaned back in her chair while the numerous roots and tendrils that made up her lower body extended and grew with a skin-crawling soft friction, slowly burrowing into the ground as if drawing nutrients from the soil. During this process, she squinted with pleasure in her voice, "So, who’s been responsible for monitoring the wasteland activities lately?"

"It’s me," said a thin man with a composed and solid expression like steel, "I’m in charge of the surveillance."

"Archon Xidon, fortunately, a capable person," Beltira said cheerfully, "Did you anticipate those aberrations suddenly rushing to assault the Typhon Empire’s border beforehand?"

"It was an accident," the fallen Druid known as Archon Xidon said without any expression on his face, "The activities of those low-level aberrations are entirely unpredictable, and the changes in the great wall are equally unforeseeable; even the Silver Empire can’t fully monitor the entire great barrier..."

"Alright, Archon Xidon, you’re not good at making excuses," Beltira interrupted Xidon’s words, "We indeed can’t control the entire great wall, but we can control other things... Those monsters, weren’t they supposed to be directed to attack the Cecil clan?"

After a brief silence and confrontation, Xidon finally spoke, "The Cecil clan is a threat."

Beltira interrupted rudely, "But I warned you that now is not the time to deal with that resurrected one! We’re drawing attention, and we have already exposed enough to the world!"

"So we didn’t take action personally; the Cecil clan directly faces the Gondor wasteland—letting it naturally be destroyed by the monsters from the Gondor wasteland wouldn’t arouse anyone’s suspicion."

"But those monsters ended up on Typhon’s border, Archon Xi·don," Beltira nearly echoed each syllable, "When you directed our comrades to drive those monsters to the rift in the Dark Mountain Range, did you consider those brainless freaks might get lost at the mountain’s foot, then wander half of them under the Typhon people’s noses? Did you consider how a simultaneous monster attack on Anzu and Typhon’s borders would impact the situation in both nations? Did you think about the consequences for yourself after all this, my dear Archon Xi·don—"

"I will go to the Flesh Abyss and accept the Archbishop’s judgment," Xidon looked at Beltira blankly and only spoke softly after the latter finished, "It’s my fault, but I still do not change my view—the Cecil clan is a threat, that resurrected Duke is a threat, he’s not simply trying to build a piece of developing new regions..."

"Of course he’s a threat!" Beltira suddenly raised her voice, "Do you think you’re the only one who can see that?"

Xidon finally showed a trace of bewilderment; he stared into Beltira’s eyes and slowly asked, "What do you mean?"

"He’s a threat, but so what? Isn’t the Gondor wasteland a threat? Aren’t aberrations a threat? Aren’t we using those threats just the same?" Beltira said while her eyes swept over everyone present. Apparently, she was not just speaking to Xidon but to everyone in attendance, "Threats don’t necessarily need to be eliminated; a well-utilized threat is a sharp sword."

The two elven female archons sitting opposite Beltira spoke in unison, "What is the value of using Gawain Cecil?"

"He is a war machine. He’s crafting a kind of war machine," a cold gleam emerged in Beltira’s eyes, "Although we don’t have very clear intel and we can’t quite fathom his plan yet, one thing is clear enough—the Cecil clan can grow in a short period, grow into a bone-crushing machine that can produce countless flesh corpses..."

The fallen Druids exchanged glances; those sitting here were no fools, and they had already vaguely guessed Beltira’s—or rather, the "Archbishop" behind Beltira’s—true intent.

"The changes in the Anzu and Typhon situation indeed were unexpected, but it doesn’t matter; we have plenty of alternative strategies," Beltira smiled, "Although the Archbishop is asleep, his wise mind has already deduced our next steps—war will break out regardless."

Beltira then slowly stood up, and her lower body roots gradually retracted, "Lelena, Fyrna, the Archbishop orders you to initiate the alternative plan in Typhon."

The two elven female archons smiled simultaneously, "We like alternative plans."

"Archon Clement, the Archbishop orders you to activate the arrangements in Anzu. Remember, do not disturb the she-wolf of the northern Wilder family."

A man with his face hidden under a black hood stood up and slightly bowed: "I obey the Archbishop’s will."

"As for you, Archon Xidon," Beltira finally looked at Xidon sitting next to her, yet the initial mocking and sarcastic tone on her face had disappeared, "although we have alternative plans, the mistake you made can still only be described as foolish. The Archbishop is very displeased with your arbitrary actions and blind confidence, so you are to go to the Flesh Abyss and endure a sacrificial punishment for three days and nights."

Xidon slightly lowered his head, not to Beltira, but to the will of the Archbishop: "I have nothing to say."

Beltira nodded and then said: "But before you accept the punishment, there’s another matter to attend to."

Xidon glanced at the woman with the non-human body, his tone almost unperturbed: "What is it?"

"Prepare the ’Shadow Bridge’, I need to contact our companions ’on the other side’."

Xidon hesitated noticeably at this request, and Beltira immediately frowned: "Is the ’Shadow Bridge’ unusable?"

"No, the ’Shadow Bridge’ is usable, but recently the Silver Empire’s Master Mages have clearly noticed anomalies. Their checks on the channels have become more frequent, and adding extra connections might arouse more of their suspicions."

"That’s not for you to worry about, I have my own ways to make those elves lower their guard," Beltira said lightly. "According to our intelligence, among the aberrations that crossed the great barrier this time, there is a large mutated individual, something that has never been mentioned in previous reports. The Archbishop has ordered me to investigate it thoroughly."

"Understood, the Shadow Bridge will be ready within a day. Where do you plan to establish the connection?"

"... Typhon," Beltira said after a brief contemplation. "Recently, we’ve been too active with the Eternal Sleepers in the west, and the aristocratic leaders there have already become wary."

...

In the Cecil, within the Rune Research Center, Kamel stood quietly in his laboratory. In front of him was a wide experiment table, filled with various magic instruments and alchemy tools, and the surface of the table was covered with complex magic symbols that he had carved by hand. In the center of all the symbols, on a small silver tray, a small fragment of black and red bone was emitting faint smoke, at the final stage of its complete disintegration.

Kamel watched this bone fragment quietly, without a word or a move, but the devices and tools on the experiment table, which still retained a hint of magic reaction, indicated that he had just concluded a complex magic experiment. The arcane sparks constantly wandering over his body surface showed that the heart of this ancient Master Mage was not as calm as it appeared.

"So that’s how it is... so that’s how it is..." Finally, Kamel murmured to break the silence. "So... all of this was done by us... Who?!"

He suddenly sensed a sneaky presence nearby. This ancient Master Mage never expected someone could easily creep so close to him—even if he was momentarily lost in thought, his perceptual abilities should not be this poor!

But just before arcane lightning could appear around Kamel, a figure clumsily emerged from the air, and a familiar voice interrupted his action: "Hey, it’s me! It’s me! Why do you always fire off magic without a word..."

"Miss Amber?" Kamel hurriedly dissipated the magic energy he had just gathered and casually inquired, "What does ’fire off magic’ mean?"

Amber blurted out: "I don’t know, the old man’s words taught me. He said there are mainly two ways to release magic. One is conjured up, the other is fired off—yours is called ’fired off’, Rebecca’s is ’conjured’."

"You lack sufficient respect for the leader... but you are the leader’s personal guard, so I can only remind you this way," Kamel spoke somewhat sternly, with a touch of emotion. "The leader indeed knows a lot of unknown knowledge..."

"Who knows if that knowledge is serious or just to fool me, he always teases me," Amber waved her hand. "Let’s not talk about that. Old... Gawain said he wanted to discuss some technical issues with you... but what are you doing here? I saw you staring at the experiment table blankly just now."

"I..." Kamel hesitated to speak, then a trembling sigh came from his invisible arcane body. "It’s nothing, I also have something to report to the leader. Let’s go then."

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