They call themselves rebels, seeing Ethan as the leader against the rule of the King of Gold.

But…

Vivian always felt that Ethan was somewhat subtle, far from the image of any leader she had imagined.

"No, I am not a King of Gold."

Ethan shook his head. He did not have the ambition to conquer multiple planes, nor did he intend to create a batch of reverse "Hunters" to counterattack the Royal City of Siwalant.

Because the letter sent by Rattlesnake mentioned part of the production principle of "Hunters," they were literally biological weapons. Although it was unclear where the scholars of the Golden Kingdom got their technology, she was confident that soul and biological samples were essential raw materials for the "Hunters." They also discovered that the scholars of the Golden Kingdom were hunting high-level flying magical creatures everywhere, trying to use their biological samples to create more flying war weapons.

Her knowledgeable Servant Demon believed that the intelligence of "Hunters" stemmed from the souls injected into them.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, those scholars had developed and utilized souls far more effectively than the creations of the Old Gods. Compared to them, the sacrificial rituals of the Abyss seemed still in the primitive era.

"We're phantom thieves, so we should solve problems using the methods of phantom thieves."

"The methods of phantom thieves?"

"Find the Six-Person Council and then overthrow them."

According to Rattlesnake's investigation, although the King of Gold was the supreme ruler, daily affairs were almost entirely handled by the Six-Person Council under his command. The social system dependent on golden radiation meant that once the Six-Person Council and the King of Gold were overthrown, all wars could be snuffed out in their cradles.

And according to reliable intelligence, two members of the Six-Person Council were currently overseeing the battle in Oak City.

This plan alone met Vivian's expectations for a phantom thief.

But…

This is perhaps the distance between novels and reality.

All who dared to resist the King of Gold failed, even the followers who infiltrated the Royal Palace suffered the same fate. In the final "battle," all the escapees were wiped out under the pursuit of the "Hunters." She hid in a cove by the lake until the "Hunters" brought all the captured escapees back, and only then did she escape disaster.

That was just one "Hunter."

Now, if you calm down and listen carefully, you can still hear the sound of the "Hunters" patrolling outside the warehouse.

They are monsters that humans cannot contend with.

Vivian had accepted this fact in her heart, and it left her feeling lost.

Even if she temporarily escaped the control of the King of Gold, what then? The Empire and Ophira were doomed to fall. Once those war weapons were activated, everything in this world would submit to the will of the King of Gold.

"Can we do it?"

"How will we know if we don't try?"

During the conversation, the wind element had completed its work. A series of abnormal operations triggered the alarm as expected. The footsteps outside the warehouse grew clearer, and as the "Hunters" approached, the ground began to tremble slightly.

Among the gathering biological weapons, there were also human footsteps. A figure wearing a black robe and a weeping mask weaved through the golden glow, heading straight for the warehouse the moment the alarm sounded.

The wind element darted back into the hole in the ground, burrowing its body under the surface before the "Hunters" could break in, leaving only its head exposed. The flush on her face was more evident, unable to contain the excitement of her successful prank. At Ethan's eye signal, she took out the letter she had prepared before coming.

The phantom thief's notice letter, an indispensable tradition.

The letter was penned by the wind element.

She was the most learned of the Elemental Elves. In her leisure time, she loved to stay in quiet corners reading books. Ethan believed in the wind element's writing and entrusted her with the important task of composing the notice letter.

It's only by informing the other party of the "crime" time and place in advance that one can display the spirit of a phantom thief.

After a short while, the warehouse door was pried open by sharp forelimbs, a spherical object both head and body squeezed in from outside, its eyes glowing with golden light.

The figure wearing the sorrow mask followed behind the "Hunter."

A gentle breeze swept past his body, delivering a letter that floated down in front of him.

The right hand, clad in a golden gauntlet, took the envelope. His sharp forefinger slid through it, standing still to savor the wording on the letter.

The line of text was brief, a mere glance would suffice to read it:

Tomorrow night at twelve,

In front of Oak City Hall,

Beware of getting hit by a carriage.

His clenched right hand crumpled the parchment into a ball. This was undoubtedly a letter of provocation, and he immediately inspected the warehouse. All "Hunter" production had ceased, the assembly line had encountered an unknown error, and by the entrance of the operations room lay an unconscious worker who had been kicked.

Yet the alarm was not due to operational error. The person who wrote this letter could have departed unnoticed, but intentionally made a commotion to draw him here, specifically to deliver this letter to him.

This letter foretold the precise time and place and even described the method of crime.

As a member of the Six-Person Council, he had never received such a challenge letter.

In past conquests, resistance forces would collapse within three days. His homeland… was no exception.

Now, those war scenes had become vague and indistinct. In this long life, he had forgotten too many details.

Yet this time, the war was developing in an unforeseen direction.

He sensed a sprouting seed.

Princess Siwalant, who successfully escaped, the unshakable Old God believers, and those who sent out this challenge letter…

This seed was nurturing hope. Could it imply their King would taste defeat for the first time in his life?

"False hope, could you have also been infected by Cynthia?"

The cold voice penetrated through the mask, directly reaching his mind. A figure wearing an anger mask appeared inexplicably behind him, taking the crumpled parchment from his hand, "Don't you understand? This is just the King's way of passing time. Having finally encountered an interesting toy, why would he allow this game to end prematurely?"

His companion's reminder made him dismiss the unrealistic ideas that had just surfaced.

A long and tedious life.

Even war, for their King, was just another routine, with no need for his hand. Rebels would succumb one after another under the influence of the Divine Artifact.

"Don't forget where this is."

Such a voice flashed through his mind.

Siwalant, an art capital with a long history, where the Empire was but a nouveau riche in comparison. At the end of the Second Era, the Gallog Dynasty was divided in two, Siwalant inherited the surname Gallog, a symbol of honor and status, and it has continued to this day.

The figure wearing the anger mask held a book in his hand, inscribed with the history following the Second Era.

In the Second Era, the capital of Siwalant had an even more beautiful name—Land of Gold. It was Merlin's homeland and the birthplace of the legends relished by the Gallog Dynasty's inhabitants.

On the day the fleet arrived, the King of Gold marked Siwalant as the center of this conquest war.

This was no coincidence.

Every decision made by the King of Gold was guided by fate.

The glorious Gallog Dynasty, the King's mentor, the invincible dynasty warriors, and…the traitor Merlin executed by the Guild.

The King of Gold remained silent, but history had already provided the answer.

All traitors will perish.

The goddess will retract her everlasting blessings and unleash the wrath of judgment.

The traitor's head will be severed and hung before the city gates.

The flowing blood will serve as the key to ushering in the apocalypse.