Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

Upon thinking of this, Gaius's face drained of color instantly, replaced by a deep-seated horror.

An army that is lost can be re-conscripted; land that is lost can perhaps be regained in the future.

But what if these six, representing the highest military force of the Kingdom of Ceylon, and the saint he relied on last, also met with an accident...?

Then Gaius Cromwell would lose even the last bit of capital he had left to flee to other countries, form a nominal government-in-exile, and seek political asylum.

He will be reduced to a complete wretch, and may even be ruthlessly abandoned or even eliminated by his former "allies".

At this moment, the crisis of the fall of Quesaon and the survival of the capital had become irrelevant to Gaius.

He abruptly shoved away the servants who tried to help him, letting out a hoarse roar like a dying beast, his voice distorted by extreme fear:
"Hurry! Go now!"
Contact Prince Morrow using the highest-level communication array!

"Tell him to come back immediately! Right now! Bring our people back! Evacuate that island immediately! Hurry—!"

However, before he could fully utter his command, his voice abruptly stopped, as if an invisible hand had choked him.

His gaze, along with that of all the surviving ministers in the court, was involuntarily drawn to the strange phenomenon on the horizon outside the window—

High in the distant sky, the once bright sun suddenly dimmed, as if shrouded by a huge black curtain.

Immediately afterwards, countless brilliant stars, like fine gold dust sprinkled by the gods, lit up one after another in dense clusters.

It adorned the deep sky with a magnificent glow.

What is even more awe-inspiring is that those twinkling stars are not random; their light is interconnected.

They vaguely weave together to form the outline of a vast, dreamlike starry palace.

The stars shone brightly, and the temple appeared—this was a signature phenomenon that only appeared when a Saint-level expert went all out and invoked the laws of heaven and earth!
But this is just the beginning.

What happened next was enough to make every living being on the entire continent of Demon Tide remember this historic moment for the rest of their lives, regardless of race or faction.

The entire sky seemed to be ignited in the next instant, with one after another star temples, each with its own unique style, yet all exuding a vast and imposing aura.

It tore through the clouds one after another, appearing in mid-air!

One, two, three...

In less than a minute, sixteen magnificent starry sky temples, like sixteen dazzling suns, appeared high in the sky.

The oppressive aura emanating from them intertwined, causing the heavens and earth to change color and all things to tremble.

Since the end of the ancient war between gods and demons, a long period of time has passed.

This is the first time such a large number of saints have appeared on this vast continent at the same time.

The sixteen saints exerted their full power, causing a terrifying phenomenon that resembled the end of the world.

This caused all powerful beings across the entire Demon Tide Continent, regardless of their location, to feel its power and be shaken.

An era ruled by the old order seems to be emitting a shattering lament under the brilliance of these sixteen temples!
……

Let's rewind to thirty minutes ago.

Deep in the Weeping Trench, on that desolate island, the atmosphere was so heavy it seemed to drip water.

The six Ceylon saints, led by Prince Moro, were gathered together, their eyes fixed on the communication crystal that was slowly rotating and emitting a faint blue light, suspended in the middle of them.

According to the pre-established battle plan, the signal for a joint general offensive by the Ceylon Navy and the "Crimson Raiders" fleet should have already been received from the distant Emerald Harbor waters.

Their Saint Squad will also set off immediately, heading straight for the royal capital of Effie, Florence, to carry out a decapitation operation.

However, the crystal remained silent, with only the monotonous sounds of wind and waves between the sea and sky.

This unusual stillness cast an ominous shadow over Prince Moreau's weathered heart.

An indescribable sense of unease quietly spread through his heart.

After waiting anxiously for a while, just as Prince Morrow was about to lose his patience and take the initiative to contact and inquire,

The once-silent azure crystal suddenly shone brightly, bursting forth with a dazzling brilliance.

Prince Morrow's expression suddenly tightened, thinking that the long-awaited signal for an attack had finally arrived.

He immediately straightened his body, his holy power surging slightly, and was about to call his five companions who were already poised to set off.

However, the next second, a message emanating from the center of the light, mixed with the noise of a violent explosion and desperate screams, pierced his eardrums like an ice pick.

It also froze all the blood in his body:
"Your Highness!"
Oh no!
Betrayal!

Betrayal!

"Lieutenant Commander Gaston Davenport has betrayed us!"

The sound emanating from the crystal was distorted and shrill, filled with extreme terror and disbelief:
"He colluded with the Pirate King and the Eifine Navy!"

We've been ambushed!

It’s over! It's all over!

The Ceylon Navy... three fleets... completely wiped out!
The plan is cancelled!

Stop immediately!

Repeat, in progress…

Before the final word "stop" could be fully uttered, the communication abruptly ended with a sharp, piercing noise.

Immediately, the crystal carrying the devastating news could not withstand the terrifying energy impact from the other end, or the backlash from being forcibly severed.

It exploded into countless dust particles with a "bang" right in front of Prince Morrow.

The blue specks of light, like tears of despair, scattered and fell.

Prince Morrow froze on the spot, his face drained of color, his expression turning horrified.

His pupils contracted sharply as he stared intently at the scattering crystal dust in the air, feeling as if he had been struck by lightning.

The five saints behind him also heard that brief but all-encompassing message.

In an instant, endless shock, anger, and a chilling fear overwhelmed the deserted island like a tidal wave.

As a powerful figure who had reached the Saint rank, Prince Moro had very few things in the world that could cause him to experience such intense emotional fluctuations.
But the rapidly deteriorating situation before him, the series of nightmarish changes, gave even this saint a strong sense of unreality.

It felt like being trapped in a terrible nightmare from which I could not wake up.

His gaze suddenly shifted to the three saints from the Eastern Empire who had been standing silently not far away.

My heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by a giant, cold hand, and a chill shot up my spine to the top of my head.

However, a saint is a saint after all, and the extreme shock did not cause him to completely lose his composure.

In a flash, Prince Morrow forcibly suppressed his surging blood and chaotic thoughts, and reason regained the upper hand.

He almost forced a low, rapid roar through clenched teeth, his voice carrying an undeniable resolve:
"withdraw!

Get out!

Get out of here immediately!

The situation couldn't be clearer.

Since the cooperation between Pirate King Yann Hughes and their Ceylon Kingdom was a complete scam from the very beginning.

The stance of these three so-called "allies" introduced by him is self-evident.

If they're not allies, then they can only be the most dangerous enemy!
Even after a moment's consideration, Prince Moro still couldn't fathom what kind of trump cards the other side had that made them think they could keep their six people with just three Saints.

But he dared not gamble, much less could he gamble.

These six saints were the last backbone of the Kingdom of Ceylon and the only hope for the Cromwell family to rise again.

We cannot afford any mistakes here; we must evacuate at all costs!
Unfortunately, although his reaction was quick, it was ultimately too late.

The moment he uttered the word "retreat," the three "Star Clan Saints" opposite him, who had been keeping their auras restrained and standing like statues, seemed to have been waiting for a long time and moved almost at the same time.

The three figures did not move much, but in a mysterious way that was almost like spatial leap, they instantly spread out in a triangular shape.

This formed a perfect encirclement, completely sealing off all escape routes for Prince Moro and the other six Ceylon saints.

The gentle starlight emanating from them suddenly turned piercingly cold, like three invisible nets.

With a suffocating pressure, it enveloped the entire deserted island.

Prince Morrow laughed in fury, his aged face etched with deep wrinkles, yet his eyes burned with a blazing fire of utter rage.

"It is already a great act of kindness for us not to cause you any trouble."

You dare to surround us and come to your deaths!

Prince Morrow's voice boomed like thunder across the deserted island, carrying the inviolable majesty of a saint.

Before he finished speaking, his aura suddenly erupted, as if a sleeping ancient beast had awakened.

The space behind them twisted and tore violently, and a beam of holy light shot into the sky, dispelling the pervasive sea fog and dark clouds.

Immediately afterwards, a magnificent, ancient palace, constructed entirely of pure holy light and countless flowing runes of law, pierced through the void.

With an overwhelming and unstoppable momentum, it descended fiercely upon the sky.

The temple's dome seemed to touch the stars, and the oppressive aura it exuded suffocated the entire sea area.

Prince Moro's sharp gaze swept over the three Star Clan Saints:
"The three of you! To cultivate to the Saint level, you have all gone through countless tribulations. Why force us to perish together here!"

"Hehehe..."

An aged yet unusually peaceful voice suddenly rang out, as if right beside Prince Moro:

“Your Highness is absolutely right. It is indeed not easy to step into the Holy Domain. Why must we fight to the death?” Prince Moro’s expression changed drastically, and he turned his head sharply to look.

Not far away, the space rippled like water, and an elderly man with white hair, dressed in a simple hemp robe and with a kind face like a kind old man next door, slowly stepped out.

With his appearance, another temple, different in style yet equally magnificent, suddenly appeared.

The temple is entirely bathed in a warm golden hue, with countless golden wing-like phantoms seemingly fluttering on its walls, casting down specks of sacred light.

It rivaled Prince Morrow's temple, which was filled with a murderous aura.

Upon recognizing the newcomer, Prince Moro's heart sank to the bottom. His pupils constricted, and he spat out that fearsome name, word by word, through clenched teeth:

"The Golden Wing Family...Second Elder, Saint Massimo!"

He forcibly suppressed the turmoil in his heart and took a deep breath of the cold air, which carried the smell of the sea and the oppressive power of the holy force.

His gaze shot like lightning to another seemingly empty direction, his voice low and tense:
"Since even Elder Massimo has personally come, then... the Third Elder, Saint Erwin, who is always by my side, must have been waiting here for a long time, right?"

"Ugh……"

A slightly wistful sigh came from behind Prince Moro, accompanied by another earth-shattering holy might descending.

The third temple appeared out of thin air, shrouded in a hazy mist, with the faint outline of the rising and falling tides visible in the distance.

It exudes a continuous yet unfathomable power fluctuation.

“Saint Moro, time flies. It’s been almost ten years since we last met.”

The voice belonged to Erwin Wenze, the third elder of the Golden Wing family, whose figure slowly became clear amidst the misty steam.

His face wore a smile that seemed gentle, but actually concealed endless sharpness.

Prince Morrow's face turned ashen, and he involuntarily staggered back several steps.

They quickly joined the other five saints of the Kingdom of Ceylon, and the six of them formed a battle formation back to back, their powerful holy energy weaving together to create an indestructible barrier around them.

He stared intently at the three towering temples ahead, his voice low and deep:

“Golden Wing Family!
What a magnificent Golden Wing family!
Are you determined to stake your millennia-old accumulated resources on this life-or-death struggle with Ceylon?

Is it really worth risking the fate of the entire family just for a son-in-law from another family?
Is it worth it?

"Moro, you've got one thing wrong."

The Golden Wing family isn't the only one that has laid such a trap for your Ceylon Kingdom today!

Before the words were finished, the space to the side of everyone suddenly twisted, and a thick, bloody stench rushed in, as if countless wronged souls were wailing.

A blinding beam of blood-red light rapidly condensed in the air, transforming into a strange figure draped in a scarlet cloak, its face hidden in shadow.

At the same time, a grotesque temple, entirely constructed of dark red blood-colored crystals and with lava-like patterns flowing across its surface, suddenly appeared in the air, exuding a magnificent aura of death.

It forms an encirclement with the other three temples.

Prince Morrow's pupils contracted sharply, reflecting the ominous crimson hue. His throat bobbed with difficulty, and his voice trembled almost imperceptibly.

"Blanc Scarlett!"

The appearance of Saint Byakuran Scarlet, patriarch of the Bloodwing Clan and one of the wielders of the Pale Wings.

Like the last iron gate, it completely sealed off the last chance for the six of them to break through.

Moro took a deep breath, his eyes suddenly turning sinister and piercing.

Looking around at the six opposing temples standing in stark contrast, he spat out cold words through clenched teeth:

"What an incredible layout."

The Pirate King Yan Hughes has actually colluded with Cohen Corleone of Eifine to this extent.

Even your entire Pale Wings have gotten involved.

What a Pale Wings! It seems you've also decided to stake your fate on this Cohen!

I hope you won't regret it!

As soon as he finished speaking, a resolute glint flashed in Prince Moro's eyes, and he suddenly gave a sharp look to the five Ceylon saints behind him.

Without needing to say more, the five saints understood each other perfectly, and at almost the same moment, five earth-shattering and boundless holy powers erupted.

Five magnificent temples, each with a distinct style, tore through the void and descended upon the heavens with overwhelming force.

In an instant, the entire sky was completely submerged by the endless radiance of twelve magnificent temples. The dazzling holy light intertwined and collided, dyeing the clouds and waves with magnificent colors.

The immense pressure swept outwards like a tangible tsunami, causing the deserted island to tremble violently, the sea surface to cave in, and the air to solidify as if it were about to explode.

The situation on the field instantly became extremely tense, and a battle between saints that would be recorded in history was about to break out.

Faced with this terrifying spectacle that could shake the heavens and earth, Whitey Scarlett, the patriarch of the Bloodwing Clan, remained calm.

The crimson cloak remained unmoved amidst the raging torrent of holy power, and a chilling voice pierced through the roar of energy:

"Moro, the victor is king and the loser is villain, this is an unchanging iron law of this continent."

You have stepped into the holy realm, touched the threshold of demigod, and possess near-eternal life and power.

Why gamble your long journey to the divine realm for the rise and fall of a mortal kingdom?
It's not too late to let go now.

"Let go?"

Prince Moreau seemed to have heard the most absurd joke in the world, letting out a deafening burst of laughter, filled with anger and resolve:

"With just the three of you Pale Wings, plus those three so-called saints from the Eastern Region?"
Six against six?
Do you really think that a melee between evenly matched saints can easily capture us?

"A six-on-six battle of saints?"

A gentle yet supremely majestic voice, like a morning bell piercing through the mist, suddenly came from the higher heavens.
“Prince Morrow, you have greatly underestimated the determination and plans of our King Effie.”

As the sound rang out, two beams of holy light, purer and more intense than the sun, suddenly descended, as if two deities had personally stepped into the mortal realm.

Two magnificent temples, constructed entirely of pure, angelic stone and carved with countless sacred runes, radiating endless purification and judgment power, stood like two new suns, dispelling all shadows.

It hovered solemnly above the battlefield.

Clement Radiant, the Cardinal Archbishop of the Holy See, wore a white robe embroidered with golden holy symbols and held a scepter flowing with liquid light. His face was solemn and compassionate.

Beside him stood Cardinal Philo Augustine of the Western Regions Empire, exuding an undeniable and vast holy aura, standing like the empire's sturdy shield.

Two saints, representing the pinnacle of faith and secular power on the continent, appeared in the sky above this deserted island, like the embodiment of final judgment.

Two more saints!
Moreover, it comes from the Holy See of Light!

The strongest church on the continent!
Prince Morrow's cheek muscles twitched uncontrollably.

The five Ceylon saints behind him also changed their expressions drastically, their previously maintained composure vanishing instantly—eight hostile saints.

This was already a breathtaking display of overwhelming power, enough to make any Saint-level expert want to back down.

However, the cruel joke of fate was far from over.

Just as the Ceylon saints were processing the terrifying reality before them, another strange event occurred in the heavens.

Two magnificent temples, imbued with the profound rhythm of stars, seem to be woven from the galaxy itself.

Accompanied by an ancient and resonant sound, it slowly emerged from the void.

They echoed the temples of the previous three Star Clan saints, with the starlight flowing on the temple walls intertwined, faintly forming an ancient and mysterious formation that drew upon the power of the stars throughout the heavens.

The entire sky was shrouded in a hazy starlight.

Two more saints have arrived!
Including the previous three, there were a total of five saints exuding the same mysterious star-like aura, like five unchanging stars, coldly looking down at them.

These two newly appeared saints, like the previous three, were completely unfamiliar to Prince Moro in terms of their appearance and aura.

A chilling sensation shot up from his tailbone to the top of Prince Moro's head, and a terrifying thought that he had deliberately ignored, or rather, dared not even think about, suddenly crashed into his mind.

His gaze was fixed on the five Star Saints whose auras were of the same origin and seemed to be one, and his voice trembled uncontrollably with extreme shock:

"Impossible! Humans couldn't possibly have so many strange saints!"
You... who exactly are you...?

The leading Star Clan Saint, revered as the Second Star Lord, slowly took a step forward.

The starlight surrounding him seemed to come alive, flowing endlessly, and his deep eyes seemed to hold the history of the entire starry sky.

He spoke calmly, his voice not loud, yet like the tolling of an ancient bell, clearly echoing deep within the souls of every saint, and striking heavily into Prince Morrow's heart:
"Star Clan".

He paused, as if savoring the title that had been silent for millennia, then added, with a sense of vicissitude and a declaration that transcended time:
"...It's been a long time."

Starburst Clan!
These three words, like three destructive curses, exploded among the surviving Ceylon saints, unleashing a monstrous wave that swept through their souls.

That name!

That ancient race that once rivaled the human empire of a glorious era!
That forbidden name, which was completely wiped out in the racial war tens of thousands of years ago and only exists in the oldest fragments of epics!
They did not disappear into the long river of history, but instead, today, they have reappeared in the world with the terrifying presence of five saints!

What's even more chilling is that these five Star Clan saints, who have reappeared in the mortal realm, are actually standing on the opposite side of the Kingdom of Ceylon.

The Star Clan, once capable of rivaling the entire human race, has become an enemy of the Kingdom of Ceylon!

This realization pierced through Prince Moreau's last psychological defenses, sending a chill down his spine.

This once obscure and desolate island has, in a short period of time, gathered a total of sixteen saints who stand at the pinnacle of the mortal world!
Sixteen magnificent temples, symbolizing supreme power and laws, simultaneously manifested in the world, their intertwined and vast holy might shining like sixteen blazing suns in the sky.

The resulting celestial phenomena and resonance with the laws of nature shook the very foundations of the entire Demon Tide Continent the moment they appeared, awakening countless hidden ancient beings to take notice!
Prince Moro and the five Ceylon saints behind him wore expressions of near-death solemnity.

Ten against six!
The sheer numerical disadvantage was already disheartening, and the opposing camp also included five members of the legendary Star Clan, whose origins were unfathomable.

This is no longer a simple contest of victory or defeat, but a colossal gamble that could determine the future of the continent and is destined to result in bloodshed! (End of Chapter)