The white sun collapsed, strong convection collided in the air, tearing an oval-shaped crack in the sky. Thunder and wind clashed, and in the midst of the huge explosion, the world was silent for a moment, then quickly became noisy again, with clamor becoming the dominant color of the no-man's-land.
Chaotic tentacles roamed through the ruins of disaster, and eerie whispers surrounded the uninvited guest, warning him not to go any further.
Mosen stared at the strange humanoid figure that dominated the low sky, unable to determine for a moment whether it was a monster essentially the same as the Tree of Flesh and Blood, or a human struggling on the verge of losing control, striving to persevere for faith and duty, just like him.
"We shouldn't be enemies, at least not now."
The evil god's corruption continues to rage. From the moment he set foot on Blue Mountain Island, Mosen knew that this precious island, which had once served as the hub of the kingdom's maritime economy, was beyond saving.
The church and the kingdom will not waste too much energy rebuilding Bayam on a polluted land. The energy consumed by the pollution's aftereffects will be enough to build a new "City of Generosity" on another site.
Even if you send multiple demigods to use sealed artifacts to create islands out of thin air on an empty sea, it wouldn't cost more than dealing with the mess that was Bayam.
Perhaps Emilius Levitt's suggestion is correct. On this island, apart from their own side led by Arne Coltman and a few valuable native citizens, there is nothing else that Rune and the Church care about.
This is a simple arithmetic problem, but for a devout believer like Mosen, it is undoubtedly a meaningless exercise in a nonsensical way.
Glancing at the flesh-and-blood tree stirring restlessly after the hurricane, Mosen suppressed the rising anger in his heart and decided to try one more time to persuade the "trickster" in front of him, who was still wondering if he had any sense left.
"Apostles of heresy, we…"
The black emperor, shrouded in shadow, raised his arm, the tip of his spear-like scepter aimed at the chattering figure, and sparks of pale white electricity erupted.
The deafening roar of thunder exploded in clusters around Mosen, challenging his bottom line.
The Archbishop of Storms increased the pressure on his hands once more, and more blood was squeezed from his heart, which resembled a full moon, pouring onto his skin and giving him more youth at a cost.
"Apostate, I don't know if you still have any sense, but at least for now, we shouldn't be enemies."
"You should know what that tree means. The enemy in the starry sky is far more worthy of our weapons than the differences in ideas and positions between our lords."
As expected of the former archbishop, isn't he?
In his fury, Mosen insisted on explaining the pros and cons, which was nothing short of a miracle. It's hard for anyone to imagine that one day, a follower of the storm would patiently reason with someone else.
He did indeed persuade the Black Emperor in the shadows.
The throbbing, slippery tentacles quieted down, the scepter drooped slightly, and the crown lowered a little as the head was bowed.
The ancient figure representing arrogance remained silent. Zhou Mingrui, dressed casually, looked at the other compatriots in the spiritual realm, avoiding the side symbolizing emotions, and his gaze wandered over the materialized shadows of several identity stages, such as Klein Moretti and Gehrman Sparrow.
What lies above the stars?
"Why do you say they are enemies?"
Voices with the same tone but different intonations emanated from the Black Emperor's body. This strange phenomenon surprised Mosen even more than the question posed.
He was even more convinced that the demigod before him was not far from completely losing control.
It is quite possible that this unfamiliar "trickster" from the Trensost faction is a newbie who has only recently become a demigod, an unlucky guy who was hastily promoted and pushed to take the blame.
Logically speaking, even a demigod from a secret organization should know the meaning of the starry sky and wouldn't ask such a meaningless question.
Mosen took a deep breath and continued to answer patiently with difficulty.
"The Creator created us, not the one you believe in, but the true, original Creator, our God, including your God, who have all inherited His legacy. The twenty-two ways are His gift to mankind."
"And above the stars, the evil that surrounds this planet are thieves with filthy and dirty minds, vicious robbers; they are our common enemy."
Thief, robber?
The arrogant Klein nodded slightly, seemingly agreeing with Mosen's point of view, while the other Kleins were completely confused and couldn't understand immediately.
So there are other gods outside this planet?
Is the "Mother Tree of Desire" one of them?
No wonder the indulgent faction of the "Rose School" is hated by everyone; it turns out that their god, like the "Lord of the Abyss," Fabti, has fallen and become a prisoner of the "Mother Tree of Desire"...
A surge of anger was ignited and spread among most of Klein's schizophrenic members, and Mosen's persuasive arguments gained their approval.
Having shared the same emotion, the divided Klein temporarily returned to being a single entity.
Klein's vision focused and then went blank. He rubbed his temples in vain and remained silent in mid-air for a while.
The tentacles that surrounded him swam in different directions, and some spiritual threads were captured by the tentacles, extending the master's will.
Mosen quietly observed Klein's actions, taking the opportunity to collect more wind and moisture from the air for his own use.
Unfortunately, the existence of the "Scepter of Calamity" almost rendered him powerless.
The hurricane disrupted the natural flow of air, and the surrounding water sources were also captured by the hurricane, becoming part of the natural disaster. Even the disaster on the ground could not be caused because Klein had triggered earthquakes and lava flows in advance.
Mosen could only adapt to nature in the most primitive and clumsy way, just as he had when he was a "sea singer" in his twenties, rather than commanding nature to obey him.
Fortunately, some of their essential abilities are not affected by the "natural disaster." During the time they were building up their power, Mosen used his superhuman vision to discover that the few remaining individuals from the front lines of the Terensust had also retreated to the vicinity of the Black Harbor.
"It seems you made the right decision."
Arrogance… Klein silently labeled Mosen.
"Let's deal with that tree first. Do you have any good ideas for it?"
He just sent out tentacles to make contact with his demigods through a temporary transformation puppet.
There were good news and bad news.
Taylor told him that the tree that runs through the center of Blue Mountain Island has a scientific name: the "Flesh Tree".
This thing appeared more than a decade ago during the war against the Highland Capital, but at that time it faced an entire "Red of War," consisting of the angels Aver and Edmund Jason. It is said that it only existed for three minutes before being completely destroyed by the combined fire of the "Red of War" and the angels.
Judging from the example given by Taylor, Klein's best course of action was to unleash the "Scepter of Calamity" and bombard the Tree of Flesh with all his might.
This is good news. Although the Tree of Flesh and Blood has grown for some time and is much larger than the one on the high ground battlefield, it is not invincible.
As for the bad news...
The original plan was for Alger, the "Hanged Man" who was infiltrated by Rune's side, to support Trislana and her elves, working together to dismantle the fleet commanded by the governor's mansion.
But now, this plan has fallen through because of the addition of a remnant fleet in the Middle Sudan Sea.
In naval warfare, "The Spellweaver" Emilius was no match for Trislana, the "High Priestess of Calamity," and it was his ironclad ships that slowed down the elves' advance.
Thinking of this, Klein glanced at Mosen, his arrogance and anger rising again.
The archbishop in front of him seems easy to talk to, but if the other selfish Runes still can't realize the seriousness of the situation, even if he drains all his spiritual energy and keeps summoning lightning, he may not be able to destroy the Tree of Flesh and Blood.
Unless the Archbishop of Storms comes to him of his own accord, there really isn't any effective solution...
"Remove the barrier, and my Lord will do it..."
"Impossible." Klein interrupted Mosen, who was speaking rapidly, with a cold expression.
He gave a mocking look, twirling his scepter in his hand. A thin gray mist gathered behind him, with the shadows of wild beasts faintly visible.
"The 'tyrant' will kill everyone on this island."
Klein met the glaring Mosen's gaze without flinching, and placed his free hand on the head of the giant dog that emerged from the gray mist.
"Don't try to fool me with God's mercy; I have seen His methods in Backlund."
Ha... Klein's lips curled into a slightly manic smile.
"I can understand that the East District, which was filled with poor people, was abandoned by you and your gods. But when the 'Primal Witch' appeared in Prince Edsack's mansion, your 'tyrant' abandoned the West District and the Queen District in order to cover up the secret. He allowed the plague to poison the nobles and important figures of Rune, and even deliberately caused the disaster, destroying the land around Red Rose Manor, regardless of whether anyone lived there."
"You want me to choose to believe in such a god?"
"It was you, you cultists, who started this disaster!" Mosen retorted.
He angrily swung the sleeve of his robe, his hand almost crushing his heart unconsciously. Mosen's face visibly became younger, looking like he was back in his thirties.
"If it weren't for you, Prince Edsac would never have died. It was you who conspired with the witch to murder a virtuous prince, spread plague and curses, and slaughter innocent civilians!"
"Yeah?"
The slippery tentacles danced wildly in the air, revealing the owner's restless heart.
"If, as you say, we are the instigators of the great smog, then you might as well ask your colleagues in Backlund, ask your superiors, ask your royal family, and let them tell you whose god stood in front of the 'Primal Witch,' and who wiped out the witch's followers and demons in the East District."
Klein no longer wanted to get entangled with the fanatics.
Even his gentle and humble side disdains to delve into meaningless topics.
He shifted his perspective, pointing the scepter at the Tree of Flesh and Blood.
Arrogance took over his emotions, and he decided to fight the greatest threat, the pollution, with all his might. As for the dying Archbishop of Storms beside him, he was nothing more than an insect that he could crush at will once he had freed his hand.
The same thorny thunderstorm descended from the sky, and the hurricane made way, leaving an opening for the thunder to unleash its power.
The power of the natural disaster struck the trunk of the Tree of Flesh and Blood. The Hounds of Fortune heard their master's command and stopped fighting against the swarming "demons." They fled into the spirit world and, relying on the unique space of the relatively independent spirit world of the historical mist, moved closer to Klein's location.
The leader of the "Hounds of Fugen," who had arrived at Klein's side earlier, barked softly and pulled out an angel from history, and the sun's radiance enveloped the sky.
The dark brown trunk was scorched black, and the flesh-and-blood tree wailed. The existence of the barrier prevented the source in the starry sky from channeling more power.
The flesh puppet with the face of Señor evaporated into a disgusting, viscous liquid the moment the phantom of the Sun Angel descended. It fled in panic, but ultimately could not escape the bombardment of the Sun Flame.
Klein's spirituality evaporated rapidly, the hurricane gradually weakened, and all the energy he had poured into the storm that was engulfing the spirit world was transferred to the silvery-white torrential rain.
Klein abandoned defense and focused solely on offense.
The dense tree trunk struggled to turn, and bright red buds rapidly regenerated, but it couldn't keep up with the speed at which lightning destroyed it. Every now and then, a sharp shriek would come, and that was the limit of the remaining flesh and blood tree.
If we broaden our perspective to a global scale, this underdeveloped sapling is actually not dangerous at all.
In terms of rank, it cannot even compare to ordinary angels, and is far inferior to the little-known higher-ranking beings beneath Trier.
Indeed, a pack of stray dogs, a hastily produced sacrificial offering from the losers, could hardly pose a real threat to the situation.
The renowned "Blood Admiral" Señor, despite his formidable reputation at sea, was ultimately only a Sequence 5, and in every aspect, he was no match for "Hell Admiral" Ludwell.
At least that "Spiritual Cult" follower was a steadfast believer, a martyr who fought for his fellow countrymen, far superior to Señor, who entrusted his soul to desire, used excuses to evade the constraints of morality and law, and fought only for despicable greed, becoming an accomplice to evil.
Although the lightning interrupted most of the shrieks aimed at Klein, some of the Flesh Tree's attacks managed to break through and were about to fulfill their mission.
The undead legion and the "Hounds of Fugen" had already done their best, but after the Tree of Flesh and Blood gained the power of "reproduction," it still produced too many minions with the appearance of "demons" and "mutants," making it impossible to stop them all.
Like an arthropod, it had a steel body, ferocious claws, horns on its head, and wings on its back. Half of its body was charred by lightning, yet it was still trying to stick out its fangs at Klein.
It also possesses the characteristics of a "vengeful spirit." Even without relying on its damaged wings, its spirit-like form can fly at high speed in the air, and it looks like it is about to send its claws into the weak points of Klein's armor.
The demon smiled, revealing its flesh and blood. Freed from the protection of its "vengeful spirit" state, its chaotic and frenzied black-purple eyes were filled with a thirst for blood...
Until he came into view of the deep blue robe embroidered with waves and lightning.
Klein stared at Mosen, who had made the move, then slowly shifted his gaze away from the Archbishop of Maple Castle's back. His moderate personality temporarily overcame his arrogance, and he made the suggestion again.
"Persuade your colleagues to stop, and we will take care of this tree and end the war. As for you..."
"You can leave with the survivors of Rune; we will not stop you."
The thunder served as accompaniment, and time ticked by, but Klein still hadn't received a clear answer.
He hoped that Mosen would change his mind, that the stubborn old man would give in.
Finally, a miracle happened.
Mosen's resolute and rugged face drooped slightly, almost imperceptibly.
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