Chapter 654: Everything Is Ready

In the language of the Norah continent, "Stan" signifies a flying knight; thus, the Kingdom of Stan may also be fittingly called the Realm of Knights.

Upon this continent, only truly noble warriors are permitted their own mounts.

A powerful mount naturally multiplies a warrior’s combat prowess, but a flying mount signifies an early mastery of the skies—a monumental elevation for warriors who have yet to reach the seventh realm and grasp the art of flight.

Consequently, the flying knights—the Sky Knights—became the very definition of nobility.

Thus, this nation of knights was naturally a land of yearning for all warriors.

Yet at this moment, within the magnificent royal palace, where one should have been enjoying the most exquisite luxuries of the mortal realm, the most venerable King of the entire realm paced the hall, waiting in anxious suspense.

He seemed to be awaiting some long-delayed intelligence.

Suddenly, a flurry of hurried footsteps echoed from outside the palace.

The old King raised his eyes, and a look of sudden terror washed over his face.

Before him stood a line of figures draped uniformly in scarlet robes on the left, and others clad in radiant armor on the right; a silver-haired youth, dressed in a sumptuous robe of white and gold silk, walked at the absolute forefront, while everyone else trailed at least a pace behind him.

"I believe you need wait no longer, Your Majesty," said a priest standing beside the silver-haired cleric, speaking as if to convey the thoughts of the youth, who merely brushed a speck of non-existent dust from his snow-white vestments in silence.

"Why?" A pang of sorrowful dismay crossed the face of the scarlet-robed priest. "Why would one as noble as you, my Lord, also forsake the glory of the gods?"

"How could it be you...?" The old King’s face finally contorted in sheer horror.

"By now, the entire kingdom is likely aware of what Your Majesty alone does not know: those assassins who presumed to attempt the life of Lord Caesar have been captured and put to the question, and they have confessed all there is to say. As for Grand Mage Merlin, for colluding with assassins and committing the heinous crime of treason, he has already been grievously wounded by Lord Caesar. His formal imprisonment is merely a matter of time," a knight nearby sneered.

"Never presume to gauge the power of the divine with a mortal mind; that will only bring about your own destruction," the silver-haired youth finally spoke, his voice as cold and detached as a deity looking down from above.

...

Meanwhile, Owner Fang remained seated before his magic screen, still occupied with defining basic vocabulary terms.

"Cultivators: ..." Owner Fang compiled the text character by character; as a popular science guide, it clearly needed to be thorough and practical.

"The distinction between Artifact Refining and Alchemy: ..."

"Sword-riding Flight: ..."

"Dragons in the Legend of Sword and Fairy: ..."

"Owner!" Someone seemed to be calling out to Owner Fang, but he was evidently far too busy to pay the slightest attention.

"What else is there...?" Owner Fang scratched his head, suddenly feeling that the duties of a shop owner were becoming increasingly arduous. Shouldn't he just have to mind the store and nothing more?

"Sigh..." He really shouldn't have brought up writing an explanatory guide in the first place.

Of course, to foster communication and integration between the old and new shops, and to construct a harmonious internet environment, Owner Fang felt it was still quite necessary.

...

It was clear that Owner Fang was entirely oblivious to the commotion outside.

This particular execution of the assassins in Grey Eagle City was a public spectacle, meaning that crowds packed not only the immediate perimeter of the execution grounds but the surrounding areas as well.

Of course, this was not a directive from the higher authorities; Luther simply felt that the Shrine needed to alter its image in the eyes of the various nations of late.

He deemed it necessary, especially since the storms of the previous war had gradually subsided and no one was willing to bring up that chapter anymore, making the timing ideal.

Executing notorious figures could both re-establish their authority and give the people of all nations a sense of gratification—and these assassins, who dared enter the Shrine to assassinate the clergy, were naturally the perfect candidates.

Equally, it served as the finest deterrent against any assassins who dared disrupt his grand designs.

They were merely a few assassins, weak and lowly; in dealing with these foul rats whom they had fought for countless years—these lowest, most detestable creatures—he felt there was nothing to warrant concern.

He believed these assassins would certainly regret their past actions bitterly!

To this end, he had made extensive preparations.

For instance, anti-aerial magic arrays, anti-magic arrays, magical traps, and the like; furthermore, they possessed a trump card.

That most mysterious order of knights within the Shrine, though named in the honor of knights, were in truth the oldest assassins in this world!

Luther believed that if these wretched, lowly insects were truly qualified to witness them, their expressions would be magnificent to behold.

Upon the execution grounds, all the assassins were brought forward.

"So it is you...! Lord Luther." Among the handful of assassins, a middle-aged man with disheveled hair and a body covered in scars raised his head and suddenly smiled.

"You know of me?" Luther demanded proudly.

"Of course. Crying out 'Are these natives mad?' before an audience of the entire world, and then forcibly shutting down the spell projection like a fool... I remember it all vividly."

Luther's face instantly stiffened.

"Hahaha!" the assassin roared with laughter. "You call them 'natives' and use high-sounding pretexts to invade them, only to be utterly routed by those very 'natives' in the end. What does that make you? I was watching the whole time from White Dove Square! You shameless invaders! Piece of garbage!"

"Silence him!" A heavy blow from a staff immediately struck the assassin across the face, rendering him speechless for a long moment; after a long while, he spat out several bloody teeth.

Though half his face seemed to have lost all sensation, he continued to laugh, shouting out, "One day, your despicable deeds will be exposed before everyone!"

"Gag him!" Luther roared in fury.

Swiftly, a foul wad of cloth was stuffed brutally into his mouth, leaving him able to emit only muffled groans.

"Very well!" Elevated above the execution grounds was the seating reserved for all the nobility and dignitaries of Grey Eagle City.

Luther sat in the most prestigious seat dead center.

And at that very moment, far away in the Kingdom of Stan, that realm belonging to knights.

A vast number of assassins had also been herded together, clad in prison garb, some covered in wounds as they sat upon the grass of the prison yard; before them, a magical projection slowly coalesced into form.

Among them were two white-haired elders whose limbs were bound by strange black chains; they were the elders of the Underground Council, figures of the core echelon.

They were the very assassins who had shattered the divine arts and nearly imperiled those high and mighty priests.

"Witness how your foolish compatriots perish! You damned vermin!" a jailer spat venomously.