Black Hearted Mage

Chapter 350 Judgment Angel 2

Kaisas unfurled his magical wings, shimmering with purple light, drawing an elegant arc beneath the blazing sun, and silently departed from the Saint Laurent Empire. Just as mysteriously as he had arrived, he departed without a single cloud from the Saint Laurent sky. However, the ripples he left behind stirred up a turbulent storm in the very heart of the Saint Laurent Empire.

Whispers echoed in every corner of Saint Laurent. In the city's taverns, drunken mercenaries pounded their oak tables, loudly discussing the possible bone altar hidden in the Pope's chambers. In the salons of the nobility, silk-gloved ladies hid their faces behind folding fans as they exchanged rumors of the Pope's strange late-night rituals. Even in the gilded corridors of the palace, servants could hear ministers fiercely debating the latest Church scandals in their council chambers as they passed by carrying silver platters.

The storm was more violent than anyone had anticipated. In a matter of days, the authority of the Church of Saint Laurent, like a beam hollowed out by termites, crumbled under the skepticism of the people. The clash at the Oak Barrel Tavern was only the beginning: three drunken Templars, while molesting a waitress, were choked to death by a whole mercenary group in mead. In the following days, more humiliations followed: the bishop's carriage suffered an "accident" on Emerald Avenue, and upon waking, he found himself stripped to his underpants and hanging from the statue of Victory. Even more terrifying was a moonless night when the cathedral's stained windows suddenly illuminated with a blinding white light, mingling with the distinctive turquoise flame of white phosphorus, reducing half the courtyard to scorched earth. The charred bodies of more than a dozen priests lay frozen in the corridors, still in the pose of escape.

Amidst this chaos, even more shocking news spread like wildfire—the mysterious Saint, long ensconced in the Holy Maiden Temple, had departed the Holy Land at dawn, leading her silver-armored guards. As the ceremonial carriage, inlaid with luminous crystals, rolled over the cobblestones, not a single cardinal stepped forward to stop it. These once-arrogant figures were now arguing in their back rooms, some smashing crystal wine glasses, others burning confidential documents. None noticed the white banner symbolizing the Church's purity slowly disappearing into the morning mist leading to the Roland Empire.

Sweeped by the tide of crumbling faith, indulgences, once revered as a gold mine by the Church of Saint Laurent, have completely lost their former magic. Those cheap pieces of paper bearing the golden cross now lie scattered in the streets, soaked by rain, stained by mud, and no longer in demand. Vendors even use them as waste paper to wrap fish, while devout believers spit on these once-holy relics—after all, even the most ignorant peasants have seen clearly that these pricey pieces of paper can do nothing to atone for anyone's sins.

Over three hundred miles from the Imperial City, the Holy City remained shrouded in a false tranquility. The stained glass windows of the central hall filtered sunlight into a luxurious golden-red hue, illuminating the church's high officials, who were restless and anxious. The jewel-encrusted golden throne lay empty. Sweat dripped from the foreheads of several red-robed high priests, and the silver armor of the paladins jingled as they paced restlessly.

When the secret door of the dormitory made a harsh creaking sound, everyone held their breath - but the only one who came out was the Pope's attendant who always kept his head down and looked submissive. His moon-white robe was stained with wine, and his panicked eyes said it all.

"My Lords..." The attendant's voice seemed to be strangled. "Your Majesty... actually secretly went to Bitterwater Farm after the Harvest Festival last year."

This statement plunged the hall into a dead silence, and the priests exchanged glances in bewilderment. That horrific farm on the border was the true source of the crisis of faith. The "essence of life" they couldn't let go of also originated there.

Everything seemed to be at a stalemate, leaving everyone in a dilemma.

On the morning of the third day after Caesars returned to Rose Castle, the Saint's group crossed the border as if entering an empty land. To everyone's surprise, the Roland Empire not only did not stop them, but instead sent a whole team of silver-armored knights to escort them along the way. The fluttering imperial flag gleamed with dazzling gold in the morning light.

On the castle's backyard lawn, a plump puppy lay curled up in the center of a specially crafted magic circle, sound asleep. A faint crimson glow swirled beneath its fur, like magma surging beneath the earth. Over the past five days, it had devoured the precious Earth Dragon's magic core three times—the old dragon lurking in the lava tunnel. The fire energy contained in its magic core had raised the temperature of the entire castle by several degrees. The butler had to order twelve blocks of ice to barely maintain a normal temperature in the backyard.

At that moment, at the castle's main gate, Depero kept stroking his ruby-encrusted priest's staff, the tip of which occasionally glowed red with anxiety. Barov, standing to his left, pulled out his pocket watch for the third time, the sound of the golden cover opening and closing resonating clearly in the silent courtyard. Meanwhile, Lacio, standing to his right, kept adjusting his collar, embroidered with golden holy symbols, though it was already impeccably smooth. The three elderly men simultaneously gazed toward the avenue leading to the castle, their backs stiffening with every rustle of wind through the treetops.

Caesars leaned against the oak doorframe, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the tiny scratches on the bronze doorknob. A breeze carrying the scent of roses blew through the corridor, but it couldn't blow away the wrinkles between his brows.

"Why are you three old fellows so anxious?" He looked at the three white-haired elders pacing back and forth in the courtyard, and said with a hint of joking, "The Saint's carriage will not arrive at the city gate for at least another hour."

As he turned, his scarlet cape swept an arc across the mosaic floor tiles, and sunlight filtering through the stained windows cast shifting specks of light on his fair cheeks. "Almost two hundred people are going to eat and drink here," Caesars calculated, counting on his fingers adorned with his dimensional ring. "The moonshine wine consumed tonight alone is equivalent to half the estate's tax revenue—this is truly a worrying situation."

Butler Sean's shadow silently approached, a silhouette of loyalty. "My Lord Marquis!" He held the gilded notepad and bowed slightly, a parchment scroll dangling from his elbow. "You don't need to worry about this. I just received a parchment letter from the Hawkeye spy this morning, delivered by raven." His age-spotted hand pulled a document stamped with purple wax from his bosom. "The Roland Empire's Ministry of Finance has specifically noted that all expenses during the Saint's tour will be covered by the Imperial treasury."

"Oh?" Caesars suddenly stopped, the light and shadow shattering into cunning golden stars in his pupils. As he took the document, his silver cufflinks clattered softly against the parchment. "That's a pleasant surprise!" The corners of his mouth curled up in that familiar arch of a butler's, the expression of someone discovering their prey has fallen into a trap.

"Mr. Marquis, what exactly do you intend to do with so many gold coins?"

The aged Depero slowly turned around, his wrinkled face filled with confusion. The whispered conversation between Caesars and the butler had reached the old priest's keen ears, word for word.

"I need resources for cultivation." Kaisas' voice was as cold as ice. "I'm a mage, and my resource consumption is more than ten times that of a great magician." He deliberately emphasized his tone, and his slender fingers gently stroked the magic crystal inlaid on his staff. "Depero, if I meditate with all my strength, I will consume hundreds of high-level magic crystals a day!"

Facing Depero's probing gaze, Caesars unabashedly unleashed a powerful, imposing magical force. A gray magical glow swirled around him, and a suffocating pressure suddenly filled the air. He wanted to show these three old men clearly, so they wouldn't cling to any more unrealistic fantasies.

High-grade magic crystals fetch at least dozens of gold coins each on the market. Upon hearing the staggering figure of "hundreds a day," Depero and the other two gasped. They stared at each other, their dry lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

Caesars had no interest in hanging around with them. He turned and walked towards the castle's backyard, his large black robe rustling. He had to check on the fat dog—ever since it consumed the magic core and fell asleep, the magic energy around the castle had become unstable.

The scene in the backyard was horrifying: the once lush green lawn was now a scorched yellow, as if scorched by fire. Even the massive oak tree in the distance, so thick it required five or six people to hug, hadn't been spared. Its once lush crown now had leaves strangely curled and yellowed. And in the center of the lawn, the air around the fat dog was strangely distorting, as if space itself were folding and tearing apart...

Kaisas wiped the sweat from his forehead. The scorching air made it difficult for him to breathe. The temperature in the backyard was climbing at a visible rate, even the surrounding grass and trees were beginning to curl and wither. He looked at the glowing red magic circle surrounding the fat dog. The metal disk emitted a dangerous sizzling sound under the heat, and the runes on its surface were gradually warping and deforming.

"Sean, the ice has completely evaporated, and the magic circle's effectiveness is rapidly fading!"

Kaisas's long hair was whipped up by the heat, and he stared intently at the fat dog engulfed in flames in the center. The carefully arranged ice magic circle was now reduced to a few wisps of white smoke, while the metal plates of the flame protection magic circle had already glowed red, showing signs of melting at the edges.

"It's almost too late!" Caesars turned abruptly, his robes rustling in the hot wind. "Gather all the servants and guards immediately, and bring shovels and buckets. We must build an earthen wall at least three or four meters thick around the fat dog!"

Sean felt like the soles of his boots were about to melt. He swallowed hard and asked, "Marquis, how high does the earth wall need to be to block this heat wave?"

"At least four or five meters!" Caesars' voice was almost a roar. He pointed at the expanding flames, "See those array plates? They can only hold out for two or three hours at most. Once the protection fails, the entire backyard will be reduced to ashes!"

"The castle is short on manpower. I'll have the miners come over to help right away. Waste slag is more resistant to high temperatures than soil!"

Sean said as he took out the communication stone and was about to contact the foreman.

"Don't contact me anymore, it's too late. I'm going to throw the fat dog into the mine!"

As Caesars spoke, a crisp "pop" sounded from a distance. A piece of the array disk finally broke in two, unable to withstand the intense heat. The flames on the fat dog suddenly surged several feet, and the heat spread outward like a tide. Sean felt like his eyebrows were being singed, and he turned and ran away in fear.

Kaesus silently chanted an incantation, his arcane shield radiating a lavender glow. Elemental shields couldn't withstand such intense heat; only arcane energy could insulate him from the terrifying heat. He quickly formed a seal, and purple arcane energy gathered in his palm, transforming into a massive, translucent hand. The mage's hand precisely grasped the fat dog's bloated form, carrying it into the air and swiftly flying out of the castle.

The sharp wind whistled in his ears, and Caesars's gaze was fixed on the abandoned exploration hole not far away. It was a vertical shaft dug by miners back then to explore the boundaries of the gold mine. The cave, about forty meters deep, was large enough to accommodate Fatty's current body. The exploration hole was surrounded by weeds, and the mottled rock walls were covered with withered vines. Without careful observation, the cave entrance was almost impossible to detect.

As the wizard's hand, carrying the fat dog, landed at the edge of the exploration cave, Caesars could clearly feel the waves of heat beneath his feet. He manipulated the magic hand, carefully lowering the fat dog along the uneven cave wall. From the two-meter-square hole, a stream of scorching air gushed out, as terrifying as the chimney of a magical furnace. The surrounding weeds withered and curled up at a visible speed, then instantly ignited by the heat, transforming into dancing balls of flame.

Caesars retreated more than ten steps and smelled a faint smell of sulfur, which was the smell in the fat dog's blood. Its bloodline had awakened again.

"I'm afraid this exploration hole is a little small!"

Kaisas stared at the cave entrance, surging with heat, and muttered to himself. The air around the cave entrance twisted, as if even space itself was trembling slightly from the intense heat. However, the fat dog should be fine—in its current state, no one or any monster on the entire Roland Continent could truly harm it. With this thought, he no longer hesitated, turned, and soared into the air, transforming into a stream of light and flying towards the Rose Castle.

In the castle's third-floor magic study, Emily frowned, her fingertips lightly tracing a thick magic tome. Because the fat dog's slumber had disrupted the surrounding magical elements, she couldn't meditate or practice spells, so she could only flip through the pages of a book to pass the time. Suddenly, a gentle breeze blew the window open, and Caesars' figure landed lightly in the center of the room.

"Emily, I've thrown the fat dog out of the castle." He said as he walked towards the sofa and casually took out a crystal that was shining with bright purple light from his arms. "However, the elemental fluctuations around it are still unstable."

Emily's eyes were immediately drawn to the crystal. It was translucent, and a profound arcane energy flowed within, as if a star were imprisoned within. She blinked and asked in surprise, "Purple magic crystal? How come I've never heard of it?"

"This is an arcane crystal. It does not belong to elemental energy. This knowledge can only be learned from a great magician!" said Caesars.