Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

If a full-scale holy war were to break out today, the collision of these forces, powerful enough to tear the heavens apart, would inevitably lead to the collapse of temples and the scattering of holy blood across the sky!

That was a saint!

The birth of each saint embodies the accumulated fortune and massive resources of a power over nearly a thousand years.

It is a strategic deterrent that operates in the mortal realm.

In the suffocating silence, Saint Whiteland Scarlet, the patriarch of the Bloodwing Clan, slowly spoke.

His crimson gaze swept over the six Ceylon saints who stood ready for battle, his voice calm yet chilling:
"Prince Morrow, and these five friends behind you."

The current situation is already very clear.

To stubbornly resist will only lead to pointless sacrifices and a glorious but ultimately wasted life.

Furthermore, I must remind everyone to see reality clearly.

No matter how glorious the future or how much immortal power Gaius Cromwell once promised you.

Those empty vows will undoubtedly become nothing but bubbles.

He could no longer fulfill even a single promise.

From the moment the sun rises tomorrow, the name Gaius Cromwell will no longer exist in the annals of the Kingdom of Ceylon!

Your capital has been captured by the Restoration Army!

Prince Moro's face turned deathly pale. He abruptly turned his head to look in the direction of Quisson behind him, as if he could see through endless space to the burning city. His voice was hoarse with extreme resistance:
"Ridiculous! You're maliciously trying to sow discord!"

His Majesty has already safely returned to the capital!

Quessarón is the heart of an empire that has withstood thousands of years of trials and tribulations, possessing the most fortified city defenses and the most loyal legions on the continent.

How is this possible... how could it have been breached in less than a day!
How ridiculous! "

Bai Lan merely raised her chin indifferently, her crimson eyes devoid of any emotion, and calmly stated:
“You are all saints who have touched the origin of the laws. Even though you are thousands of miles away, you have your own means to contact the country and verify the authenticity.”

Why don't you see for yourselves whether the very foundations of the monarchy you swear your allegiance to are still as solid as you imagine?

In fact, they didn't need to actively activate the expensive remote communication technique at all; it happened almost at the same time Bai Lan finished speaking.

Several urgent, chaotic soul messages, filled with desperate screams, were like blood-stained arrows that forcibly tore through space and crashed into the depths of the consciousness of the six Ceylon Saints.

That was the final warning issued by trusted confidants left behind in Quesaon, or by descendants of families with whom they had a soul contract, in a life-or-death situation.

The information is fragmented, yet every word is heartbreaking:

"Effie has deployed her 'King-level' legion!"
They're all Gold-rank orcs!

Three divine items!

"The garrison commander of the East District has betrayed us, and the inner city's magic array has been destroyed from within!"

"His Majesty has suffered a stroke due to extreme anger, vomiting blood and fainting! The court is in chaos!"

"East Gate... East Gate has been breached!"

The enemy has entered the city!

Each word was like a heavy hammer, striking deep into the souls of Prince Moro and the other six saints, damaging their mental defenses.

The successive, increasingly devastating news, like a cold tide, instantly overwhelmed all their hopes and perseverance.

They could clearly feel that the soul imprints that conveyed the messages were rapidly fading and extinguishing one by one.

This silent demise, more devastatingly than any words, confirmed the authenticity of the message.

"puff--"

An elderly Ceylon saint was the first to succumb to the shock of this collapse of faith, spitting out a mouthful of golden holy blood. The magnificent temple phantom around him swayed violently, and its light dimmed by more than half in an instant.

Prince Morrow himself swayed, barely managing to stand, his face drained of color, filled only with endless bewilderment and bone-chilling cold.

The pillars of their kingdom, the symbols of their unwavering loyalty, are crumbling before their very eyes.

At this moment, all the foundations supporting their fighting spirit were completely shattered.

Brandon Scarlett's gaze slowly swept over the six Ceylon saints, whose minds were in shock, her voice like a curse echoing from the abyss:

"Everyone, each of you saints is a pillar of the saintly class, born only after the Kingdom of Ceylon spent thousands of years, exhausted all its resources and fortune, and even received a bit of favor from the gods."

Your very existence is a symbol of the kingdom's glory.

Have you noticed recently that the long-standing barrier between realms seems to be showing signs of loosening?

It was as if we had touched a glimmer of light from a higher level?

Before the saints, whose expressions had shifted, could answer, Bai Lan gave her answer, her voice suddenly rising in pitch:

"That's because your future new monarch, Princess Freya, who carries the true blood of Cromwell, participated in the prestigious Noble Martial Arts Festival, which is watched by all nations."

With the strength of the 'strongest bronze', he overwhelmed all others and won the recognition and favor of the gods!

It is this new divine grace, originating from Her Highness the Princess and benefiting the entire Ceylon tradition, that has fallen like sweet rain, washing away the bottlenecks that have accumulated within you for so long.

It illuminated the path ahead for you!

But this favor did not come without a price.

If you insist on blind loyalty, binding your souls and future to that already capsized, broken ship, continuing to serve that former master whose days are numbered and whose throne has already crumbled...

Then, the favor of the gods will be stripped away from you completely, like the receding tide.

Their path to higher realms will be completely closed, and they will be trapped at their current level for all eternity, with no possibility of making any further progress!

It is about embracing new life, following the orthodoxy guided by divine grace, and embarking on a broader future.

Or will they remain stubbornly unchanged, sinking into the shadows of the old era, decaying in eternal stagnation?
You all know the answer to how to make it!

Saint Bai Lan's words were like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up a tidal wave in the hearts of the five saints behind Prince Moro.

Their expressions shifted dramatically, their eyes flickered uncertainly, and they exchanged glances discreetly, a silent wavering and weighing of emotions filling the air.

Unlike Prince Moreau, who was of Cromwell descent and a direct relative of King Gaius, they possessed an unbreakable bond of ethnic loyalty.

Their relationship with King Gaius was more of a contractual one based on the exchange of benefits.

They enjoy the offerings and honors provided by the Kingdom of Ceylon with all its resources, safeguarding the overall stability and prosperity of this land, rather than the throne of any particular king.

As long as the new monarch can continue to guarantee, or even enhance, their rightful status and resources, they don't mind having a different person on the throne.

After all, history has long proven that the monarchy in Ceylon is not immutable.

The rule of Gaius's lineage today was established by Gaius's grandfather through ruthless means, who overthrew the legitimate royal family.

In the eyes of these saints who have lived for a long time and witnessed countless rises and falls.

When power changes hands in a country, as long as it does not affect the fundamental order or their core interests, they usually choose to remain detached and observe.

The reason they were willing to support Gaius and join forces against the seemingly powerful Effie was because of this.

On the one hand, Gaius made extremely generous and irresistible promises, offering unprecedented prices in terms of territory, resources, and future influence.

It holds an alluring attraction for both the individuals themselves and the power and families behind them.

On the other hand, it was also based on the assessment of the situation at the time.

Gaius has the power to win over and utilize the saints, giving him an overwhelming advantage on paper. The chances of success seem high, making it worth the gamble.

However, the harsh reality has shattered all hope.

The enemy not only had an overwhelming advantage in the number of saints, but more fatally, it was the very people they originally served.

King Gaius himself was already in dire straits, and even the capital city of Quissaon had fallen. All those once tempting promises had naturally turned into empty checks that could not be cashed.

At this moment, Saint Bailan raised a crucial factor that they could not ignore and even feared—it concerned the continuation and breakthrough of their own extraordinary path.

For saints who pursue the ultimate power, the opportunity for advancement and the favor of the gods are far more important than worldly authority and family power.

If they continue to resist, the price could be a permanent severance of their future path to advancement, or even their demise on this unknown deserted island under the siege of ten saints.

The answer to how to choose, and which side the scales should tip toward, is self-evident.

The saints looked at each other again, and the initial shock and hesitation in their eyes were gradually replaced by a clear decision.

Maintaining the status quo is no longer possible, and the new path, though tainted by the stain of betraying the old master, seems to lead to greater power and a more secure future.

Between their own path to transcendence and their remaining loyalty to the defeated king, the answer in their hearts was already clear.

Without the slightest hesitation, as if they had already reached a silent consensus in their hearts, the five Ceylon saints turned to Prince Moro almost simultaneously.

The voice, with an almost cold calm, conveyed the exact same meaning:
"Your Highness, the Cromwell family, the Gaius lineage, has ruled Ceylon for three generations. As saints, we have always adhered to a fundamental principle."

We remain neutral and do not interfere with legitimate power transitions within the royal family.

The situation is now clear: His Majesty Gaius's days are numbered, and Princess Freya has returned with the rightful name and the favor of the gods. We have no reason, nor any need, to continue to futilely persist in a struggle destined to fail.

These words were like a bucket of ice water poured over Prince Morrow's already crumbling defenses.

Prince Morrow felt a surge of blood rush to his head, as if his mind had been instantly torn apart. He pointed at his five former companions, his body trembling violently with extreme anger and a sense of betrayal, and roared hoarsely:

"You...you bunch of treacherous bastards!"
This is no royal succession! This is a blatant invasion by an enemy nation! The iron hooves of the Alfie have trampled our gates, and foreign colonists are plundering our land!

You are aiding and abetting evil, handing over Ceylon's millennia-old heritage to others!
Are you still the saints of Ceylon?

Faced with Morrow's stern accusations, Bloodwing Clan Chief White Scarlet merely glanced at him, her voice steady, each word shattering Morrow's last struggle:

"Moro, watch your words."

Princess Freya's bloodline and right of succession have long been recognized by the five major empires of the continent, including the Central Empire and the Eastern Empire.

It also received the blessing of the Holy See.

Even your King Gaius himself used a precious fragment of the Divine Charter to pray to the prophetic god Madora, and the result clearly confirmed the princess's legitimate identity.

You are now smearing her return to orthodoxy as aggression and colonization. Are you trying to openly challenge the authority of the five great empires and the Church of Light, or do you dare to question the divine oracle personally delivered by the God of Prophecy?
"Are you... trying to blaspheme?"

The final question, like a thunderclap, carried an undeniable sense of judgment, weighing heavily on Prince Morrow's heart.

Now that things have come to this, all positions, interests, and final choices have been laid bare before the cold reality, leaving no room for maneuver.

The situation is now completely clear to both sides.

After a brief, almost suffocating silence, the five Ceylon saints behind Prince Moro made, almost simultaneously, the most advantageous and only viable option for them at that moment.

Their gazes as they watched Morrow's retreating figure carried a complex and unfathomable emotion, their voices low yet exceptionally clear:

"Your Highness, please... go back and tell His Majesty Gaius that things have developed to this point, the Mandate of Ceylon has been overturned, and the change of the monarchy is a foregone conclusion."

Any struggle is futile; continuing to resist will only make the outcome more unbearable.

For the sake of the Cromwell family's last vestige of dignity, and for his own sake, let him choose a relatively dignified way to end things.

The moment the words fell, the five magnificent temples that had originally echoed Prince Moro's temples and stood together against the external pressure almost simultaneously dimmed their dazzling light.

It disappeared into the void as quickly as the tide receded.

The five saints moved slightly and retreated silently, completely breaking away from the battle formation centered on Moro, their stance self-evident.

Having lost the solid support behind him, Prince Morrow stood alone under the terrifying pressure of ten rival temples.

His facial muscles twitched violently, and a ferocious expression, a mixture of madness and despair, spread across his aged face like vines.

Facing the Ten Saints alone? This is no longer a battle, but a destruction destined to be crushed instantly, without any suspense.

However, even at this point, the Bloodwing Clan patriarch, White Scarlet, still seemed to have a sliver of intention to avoid a complete bloodshed. He gazed at Morrow, whose breath was as faint as a candle in the wind, yet whose spine remained straight.

He offered a final admonition that bordered on pity:
"Prince Moro, your ability to set foot in the Holy Realm is the result of the accumulation of luck and opportunity over many generations?"

Why insist on embarking on this doomed path for the sake of a lost monarchy?
Even if you let go now, you will still exist at our level, and you will still have the possibility of reaching the path of divinity!

But what responded to him was an extreme radiance that suddenly erupted from Prince Morrow.

Instead of dimming, the solitary temple ignited with its last, immense holy power!

"Boom——!"

A deafening roar that ripped through the sky shook the endless sea.

Prince Morrow fell silent, and with a fierce, all-or-nothing aura, he launched a suicidal attack against the seemingly unshakeable encirclement of the Ten Saints. This was his last charge as a prince of the Cromwell family and a saint of Ceylon!
……

In the Middle Empire, in Constantine, the magnificent royal palace council hall was now shrouded in an almost frozen silence.

The imperial court officials, both civil and military, all looked up in astonishment at the enormous magical crystal suspended in the center of the hall's dome.

The crystal clearly reflected the heart-wrenching scene above the distant Weeping Trench.

Sixteen temples, radiating immense divine power, hung in the sky like stars, their opposing lights painting the sky over that sea area in a bizarre and surreal way.

After a long silence, Prime Minister Hayes swallowed hard and couldn't help but let out a sigh, breaking the suffocating silence:
"Your Majesty, this... this is what His Highness the Imperial Consort casually mentioned before, about resolving a minor conflict?"

Sixteen Saints!
Sixteen temples appeared in the world at the same time.

Since the end of the ancient war between gods and demons, when has our continent of demonic tide ever seen such a confrontation between saints?
This...this is a spectacle that's practically going to tear a hole in the sky!
"Your Highness, aren't you afraid that this upheaval, which shakes the very foundations of the world, will alert the gods who look down upon humanity?"

On her throne, Empress Senis coughed softly, a barely perceptible hint of unease flashing across her exquisite face.

Cohen's actions this time were truly shocking.

This goes far beyond the description of "conflict"; it is practically an open deterrent that could reshape the power structure on the mainland.

Beren Windrunner, the Foreign Minister and Secretary of the Military Council, quickly defended his son-in-law:

"Your Excellency, please calm down."

In my opinion, His Highness the Emperor's actions, though seemingly thunderous, were actually handled with great precision.

This was more like a carefully planned display of strength than a final showdown intended for a death match.

The sixteen temples soared into the sky, their purpose being to subdue the enemy without a fight.

Consider this: of the saints on the Ceylon side, only Prince Morrow, who is deeply bound to the Cromwell family, is likely to remain loyal to the end.

The others, aren't they all people who have experienced many hardships and know how to assess the situation?
Faced with such a disparity in strength, as long as they retain some sense of reason, how could they possibly risk their millennia of cultivation and the future of their entire family in a certain death struggle for the sake of a declining Gaius?

Upon hearing this, the ministers pondered it carefully and agreed that it made sense. They all nodded in agreement, but when their gazes returned to the sixteen magnificent temples within the crystal, they were still filled with an overwhelming sense of awe.

Emperor Cohen's actions are always so unexpected; this time, he's likely to completely disrupt the entire continent's chessboard once again.

The deep voice of Prince Heinz, the Imperial Minister of Military Affairs, slowly rose, almost freezing the already tense atmosphere in the court:

"I'm more curious about the earth-shattering scene of the sixteen saints confronting each other."

Where did our Royal Consort, who always brings 'surprises,' come from, and in what way, master the secrets of forging so many, almost endless, divine and demonic equipment?
You have all probably received the battle report from Quesaon.

The sheer awe caused by Effie's 'king-level' legion, which appeared out of nowhere, even surpassed the impact of the sixteen saints' appearance in the world.

I can now tell you with certainty that, based on military observations and analysis from the front lines, these equipment items are all newly produced and deployed.

This means that the divine and demonic equipment of Effie was produced and manufactured by themselves!

This also means that Effie possesses the blueprints for these three divine and demonic equipment!

The loss and reappearance of every blueprint for divine and demonic equipment is enough to cause a continent-wide upheaval.

Even our five great empires, after countless eras, each empire has only managed to preserve one copy with great difficulty.

But Effie, a newly emerging nation, was able to produce three complete and mass-producible systems of divine and demonic equipment.
The power and secrets hidden behind this are chilling to contemplate!

On her throne, a fleeting, enigmatic emotion crossed the face of Empress Senis, who possessed unparalleled beauty.

She slightly raised her beautifully shaped chin and responded slowly in a calm tone that revealed neither joy nor anger:

"Even I don't know much about the specific origins and details of the divine and demonic equipment in Cohen's possession."

Her gaze swept over the assembled officials, finally settling on Prince Heinz, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"If Uncle Wang is really curious, wait until Cohen comes to Kuntandin again."

You can ask him yourself.

I think he would be happy to discuss this with you.

Upon hearing this, Prince Heinz let out a low, ambiguous chuckle.

Heisenberg, the First Lord of the House of Peers, then spoke up:

"Your Majesty, please allow this old minister to confirm something."

Has our Royal Consort truly formed an alliance with the infamous Pirate King, Yann Hughes?

Shanis's eyes flickered, and she said:

"It was just a temporary tactical collaboration based on the current situation."

Lady Isabella of the Golden Wing family acted as an intermediary, leveraging her personal relationship with Princess Grace of the Eastern Empire.

She persuaded Yann Hughes on the condition that, after this battle, the Pirate King would be allowed to participate in dividing the maritime interests and part of the legacy left behind by the fallen Ceylon Kingdom.

This explanation is logically clear, downplaying a potentially controversial collusion as a temporary transaction where both parties get what they want.

Even if Shanis did not provide more conclusive evidence, her argument was reasonable enough for most of the courtiers to accept it.

Not wanting to dwell on the matter any longer, Shanis raised her voice slightly, bringing the discussion to a close:
"Alright, the Empire should not directly intervene in the conflict concerning Ceylon."

Ultimately, this is a matter of power transition within the Cromwell family.

We just need to stay informed and observe how things develop.

A strange look flashed in Heisenberg's eyes.

He actually wanted to use the Ceylon affair to make things difficult for Cohen.

However, the collapse of King Gaius of Ceylon was faster than anyone expected, before he could even begin his preparations.

That seemingly powerful kingdom had already reached the brink of destruction, making his well-prepared punch seem like it had hit nothing at all.

While the courtiers in the palace were each pondering their own thoughts and digesting the Empress's pronouncement,

A sudden change occurred! (End of Chapter)