Jack prepared himself. If any of the illuminated transcendent beings there started to attack, he would act. It probably would be pointless. But he couldn't just let the city demolished like Highcliff Town.
The air around the powerhouses seemed to thicken. The transcendent masters of each faction started to gather their power. Conflict could start at any moment.
But suddenly... A soundless pressure fell upon the Noble District. It felt like a physical blow to the twelve Illuminated powerhouses locked in their tense standoff.
Jack, in his spectral form, felt it too. A pressure that dwarfed even the combined might of the twelve big shots. This was an entirely different league.
Suddenly, a figure materialized in the very center of the three factions. As if he had always been there. Simply made visible.
He was a young man. Impossibly handsome. With flowing white hair that seemed to shimmer like moonlight. And a crisp, perfectly tailored white suit.
His features were sharp. Aristocratic. Yet they held an almost unsettling stillness that belied his apparent youth. There was no dust on him. No sign of having traveled. He was simply present.
But it wasn't his perfect appearance that seized Jack's attention. It was the aura. An ancient, boundless power emanated from him. It was so profound that it warped the very perception of space around him.
It pressed down. Subtle yet undeniable. Making the air heavy with an unspoken superiority. This wasn't just a powerful entity. This was a being that transcended the common understanding of might.
A collective gasp escaped the lips of several of the big shots.
King Willion's eyes widened. The belligerence faded from his face. Replaced by a deep, almost reverent awe.
Cardinal Paddy, Cardinal Wheatfield, and Arch-Inquisitor Oakstake straightened his posture. Their expression shifting from defiance to deference.
Even Archwitch Elfeather, usually so aloof and intellectually arrogant, dipped her head slightly. Her crackling energy dissipating into nothingness.
The other illuminated transcendent beings had similar expression. Respect and reference.
"Greetings, Saint of Joy!" Cardinal Paddy intoned. His voice was hushed. The grand title was hanging heavy in the charged atmosphere.
King Willion followed suit. Bowing his head deeply. "Saint of Joy, your presence is... an honor."
Archwitch Elfeather merely inclined her head. A flicker of something akin to caution in her sharp eyes. "Saint." Her acknowledgment was succinct. But it carried weight.
Jack was sill hovering invisibly above the scene. He felt a cold knot tighten in his spectral gut. Saint.
The title alone screamed 'danger'. He didn't dare to even attempt a shallow appraisal on this newcomer. His [Eyes of Judgement] remained stubbornly inactive when he even thought about focusing it on the white-haired man.
It wasn't a lack of information. It was a testament to power level so far different that his system refused to process it. Likely to protect him as the host.
But the title, combined with the overwhelming aura, provided enough information. Above 'Illuminated Transcendent' was the 'Sanctified Transcendent' stage. People of that stage was given the title Saint.
This was a half-god. Someone who had already acquired a 'Seed of Divinity'. A spark of true divine power. But had not yet completed the final, perilous breakthrough to the 'Exaltation Stage'. The true godhood.
Jack could deduce from the title that the 'Seed of Divinity' this individual had cultivated was very likely the domain of Joy.
Jack's knowledge of Mystic Arts and divine domains informed him that divinity was rarely as simple as it seemed. 'Joy' could manifest in countless ways. It could be the pure, ethereal bliss of creation. Or the twisted, perverse elation derived from others' suffering.
It could be the joy of life. Or the chilling joy of dissolution. It was a positive emotion. Yes. But that didn't automatically translate into a 'good' morality.
There was twisted joy. The cruel delight of a predator. The cold satisfaction of orchestrating chaos for amusement. The Saint's aura, while not overtly malicious, certainly didn't feel benevolent. It felt... absolute.
Jack focused harder on his invisibility. His [Mythical Existence] passive trait was working overtime. He was a specter. Invisible spirit. And through the power of this trait, he could become truly unperceivable.
It was a stealth beyond mere concealment. A fundamental lack of presence that evaded even the keenest senses. Even the grandest magical arrays should struggle to register.
The trait's description claimed it could never be discovered by anyone other than true gods. This Saint of Joy, for all his overwhelming power, didn't seem to sense Jack at all.
It was a terrifying. Yet oddly reassuring, thought. If this half-god couldn't see him, he truly was hidden.
The Saint of Joy slowly extended a hand. He did not rush. It was a deliberate, graceful motion. The Forbidden Chalice, which had been held by an acolyte, shimmered. Then it simply lifted into the air. Escaping from the acolyte's grips.
It floated smoothly towards his outstretched palm. As if compelled by an invisible current. Or rather, by an undeniable will. No magical wards. No physical restraints... Nothing could stop it. It simply obeyed.
The Chalice settled into the Saint's hand. Resting there as if it belonged. He examined it with a detached curiosity. His serene expression was unchanging.
"A fascinating trinket." He murmured. His voice was soft. Yet, it resonated with an authority that silenced the entire district. "But its presence here, in these circumstances, is... undesirable."
His gaze swept over the three factions. Lingering for a moment on each of the twelve Illuminated. The air grew tighter. The pressure on them increased.
"I will not allow any Illuminated Stage clash within Lonestone City." He stated. His voice was still quiet. But it was now imbued with an ironclad finality.
He explained briefly. "Such an event would cause irreparable damage. Damage that would quite frankly, spoil the general joy of the citizens."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. A smile that sent a chill down Jack's non-existent spine. But he was a little bit relieved. At least, this Saint valued stability.
King Willion stepped forward. A desperate plea was in his eyes. "Saint of Joy, the Forbidden Chalice is crucial for the stability of Elrush Kingdom. It holds the key to secure and protect our people. Its power, properly wielded, could prevent countless tragedies. We implore you, grant it to the Crown."
Cardinal Paddy, not to be outdone, stepped up. "Your Benevolence, the Chalice is a profane artifact. A tool of dark power that breaks the natural laws. It must be sealed, lest it unleash untold horrors upon the world. The Trinity Churches beg you to allow us to contain it, for the world's safety."
Archwitch Elfeather snorted offered her own argument. "Saint! This artifact is a marvel of unknown system. Its secrets could revolutionize our understanding of life, death, and fate manipulation. The Mystic Researcher Society desires only to study it for the advancement of all enlightened beings. In the name of scientific progress."
The Saint listened to each plea. His expression was unreadable. His pale eyes were fixed on the Chalice in his hand. He let their desperate words hang in the air for a long moment. Allowing the tension to coil tighter. Then, he finally spoke.
"None of your intentions are invalid, in isolation." the Saint conceded. "But they are mutually exclusive. This is... an unjoyful predicament."
He paused. His gaze swept over their faces. A hint of something resembling amusement played in his eyes. "Therefore, I shall offer a solution that is fair to all, and yet, entertainingly challenging."
He held up the Forbidden Chalice. Its surface was reflecting the sunlight like polished mirror.
"I will not choose a side." He declared. "This artifact, this 'Forbidden Chalice', will be placed within the Valley of Despair. You should know what it was. One of the most challenging spatial realm."
The Valley of Despair. The name itself sounded ominous. A stark contrast to the Saint's moniker. Jack silently filed the name away. Knowing he'd need to research it.
"As some of you might have known already..." The Saint continued. "The gate to this spatial realm will open precisely ten months from this day."
"At that time, any faction, or any individual, may come into the Valley of Despair. Whichever faction, or person, manages to navigate its challenges and acquire the Forbidden Chalice will be its rightful owner. They will then be free to do whatever they desire with it."
His gaze sharpened. Boring into each of the Illuminated. "Understand this! Within the Valley of Despair, confrontation is permitted. Forcefully seizing the Chalice from another within that realm is acceptable."
He closed his eyes tranquilly. "But any attempt to interfere with one another, or to forcefully seize the Chalice in the real world, outside of the designated trial, will face my immediate and unequivocal wrath."
The word 'wrath' was spoken without emphasis. Yet, it carried the weight of a collapsing star. It wasn't a threat. It was a statement of inevitable consequence. The Saint of Joy was not a being to be trifled with. His very existence was a higher law.
Without another word... Without a farewell or a flicker of movement... The Saint of Joy simply ceased to be present. The air lightened. The overwhelming pressure vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.
The Saint and the Forbidden Chalice was gone.
Silence reigned for a long moment. Broken only by the distant sounds of the city. The twelve Illuminated powerhouses stood frozen. Each tried to digest the reality of what had just transpired.
Then, the glares began. The Illuminated Transcendent Beings turned their heated gazes on each other. The hostility had been momentarily suppressed by the Saint's presence. But now it returned with renewed vigor.
The game had not ended. It had merely been delayed. And the rules of engagement drastically altered.