CHAPTER 970: YOUR TREASON ENDS NOW

Unfazed by the vengeful spirits swarming him, King Harold stood ramrod straight, his hands resting on the pommel of an invisible sword.

The unremarkable crown on his head suddenly pulsed, unleashing waves of incandescent light that pierced through the spectral forms. The spirits and the curse they carried dissolved into nothingness.

"No fucking way!"

From a distance, Torin’s face went pale, a mask of pure disbelief. He remembered the Clown, Ogu, being crystal clear when he sold him the cursed item. It was supposed to cripple even a full-fledged arch lord, let alone a mere lord. But the damn thing had fizzled out like a cheap party trick.

This was his ace in the hole for killing King Harold. With his trump card now useless, his mind was already screaming at him to bail.

What Torin didn’t know—what he couldn’t possibly have known—was that the simple crown on Harold’s head was the kingdom’s Relics, the very heart of the Human Kingdom’s power. With the Relics in his possession, Harold, as the supreme ruler, was a target that most arch lords couldn’t even dream of assassinating.

"Is that the best you’ve got?" Harold’s voice boomed, his body wreathed in the Relics’ golden light. He raised his sword and began advancing on Torin, one heavy step at a time. "Your treason ends now, traitor."

High above, the clash between the Clown and the human Saint, Noel, was also drawing to a close.

The Clown had lost.

Ogu’s will projection had shrunk drastically. It flickered erratically, weakened and translucent.

"I’ll be damned. You can actually handle the Relics," the Clown’s voice rasped, devoid of its earlier mirth. "You earned this one. No complaints here."

He was genuinely blindsided. He had never imagined an arch lord could wield the Relics with such devastating power. All eight of his illusions had been obliterated by the prismatic light, and even his own projection had been critically damaged.

"You must be a peak arch lord," Noel stated, a cold knot tightening in his stomach. "I’ve never seen anyone withstand a direct hit from the Relics and live to tell the tale." He could confirm it now. An enemy of this caliber targeting the Human Kingdom... he wasn’t sure if this was a trial or a death sentence.

"Heh. My strength is nothing special," Ogu deflected. "But your praise is wasted on me. I’m far more interested in him."

In a blink, the Clown’s will projection vanished and reappeared directly behind King Harold. The move was obvious; Ogu had spotted the connection between Harold and Noel. He reached out, his ghostly hands aiming for the crown on Harold’s head. This was one of the Relics, a true superweapon that even some demigods lacked.

But something felt wrong.

Noel hadn’t moved to intercept him. There was only one explanation.

He’s certain I can’t take it.

Sure enough, the crown on Harold’s head flared to life again. Brilliant beams of light, sharp as swords and dense as rain, lanced through the Clown’s will projection, shredding the phantom to pieces.

"I’ll remember this," a voice hissed from the dissipating energy.

The Clown wasn’t gone yet. An arcane scroll suddenly flew from Torin’s robes, igniting without a flame. A new phantom, far weaker than the last, materialized from the ashes, grabbed Torin, and vanished into thin air.

"Don’t pursue," a voice commanded.

Saint Noel appeared at King Harold’s side, placing a hand on the shoulder of the king, who had already started to give chase.

"Ancestor, why?" Harold demanded, his eyes still fixed on the horizon.

A look of weary resignation crossed Noel’s face. "That was an arch lord. What we fought was just his will projection. Even if you caught up and destroyed that last phantom, all it would cost him is a bit of faith. Compared to that, your safety—and the security of the Relics—is what matters most to the Human Kingdom."

Harold was no tyrant, deaf to counsel. He respected the strategic reality of the situation. "Ancestor, so... do we proceed?"

Saint Noel nodded, his expression turning to ice. If it weren’t for this war, he never would have realized how little respect the northern tribes now had for the Human Kingdom’s authority. That being the case, a culling was long overdue.

"We proceed. We’ve shown too much of our hand today. We need more territory and resources to build up our strength. Besides," he added, "the only way to maintain this new alliance is to make sure the Stoneheart Horde, the Dragons, and the Blood Elves all get a big enough piece of the pie from this war."

That’s right, a new alliance. With the Dwarven Tribe in decline, the name "Five-Race Alliance" was already obsolete.

"Then let’s start with these goddamn accomplices," King Harold snarled, turning to face the remaining lords of the northern tribes. His eyes burned with murderous intent. The Human Kingdom had lost several lords in this war. He would get their Lord’s Stone back, and then some.

"Kill them all!"

With that single command from the king, the battle between the Legendary-level combatants erupted into a final, brutal deathmatch.

Shit, shit, shit, he got away! The target got away! What the hell am I gonna do? It was my first mission from my lord Orion, and I totally blew it! Goddammit... that Human King... that damn Human Saint... Why didn’t you just chase him down? This is so fucked. How am I gonna explain this when I get back?

"Alright, you bastards! Wreck his shit! I want his Lord’s Stone!"

The battle raged, and Aldous’s other ogre head had taken over, roaring encouragement. As Aldous hyped him up, the ogre lord fought with increasing ferocity, growing stronger with every blow.

Aldous’s logic was simple. Since he’d failed the main objective, he’d make up for the screw-up with some serious loot. Yeah, making up for it with a pile of Lord’s Stone seemed like a pretty solid backup plan.

Stoneheart City, Fifth Floor of the Silent Goblet.

Alexander’s avatar materialized in the room again. Orion was there waiting for him.

"Relax," Alexander said, his tone casual as they both observed the distant battlefield through their own means. "That piece of trash doesn’t have the balls to invade your continent, much less this entire world."

"How can you be so sure?" Orion asked. He had no real gauge of Ogu’s true power or depth, but one thing still unnerved him: how the hell did the Clown and that Witch survive being hunted by the commander and Deputy Commander? The thought alone was terrifying.

"This was just a probe. He hasn’t even figured out the meta for the arch lord tier yet. He’s not stupid enough to launch a full-scale cross-world war," Alexander explained. "Besides, this world has plenty of its own demigod-level players. This is their territory. They’re not just going to sit back and watch some outside evil faction move in on their turf. This is a battle of faith. They have to get involved."

Alexander paused, glancing at Orion with a knowing look. "And the one you’ve got backing you wouldn’t allow it, either."