The news of the reappearance of the Divine Miracle in Riel City, where a six-winged angel had bestowed holy water and blessings upon the Ducal Palace of the Duchy of Bavaria, spread to every corner of the continent with unimaginable speed. Countless interested parties, more or less aware of the implications, began to stir into action.
Midnight found the magnificent and resplendent Lyon Palace still brightly lit. King Louis IX, in a rare show of high spirits, was celebrating the New Year's Eve with his ministers, enjoying the grand spectacle of the entire capital city rejoicing. The scene in the royal capital was different from that in Riel City. Seven large magic arrays projected seven-colored magical pillars of light into the sky, which converged above the palace to form the symbol of the Bourbon royal family: a gigantic, rainbow-hued, winged unicorn.
Louis IX had reigned for sixteen years, a period marked by favorable weather and peace and prosperity for the nation. The Alliance, led by the Duke of Bavaria, was replete with famous generals and valiant warriors. Their external campaigns had always been victorious, returning with expanded territories. Domestically, the civil affairs were overseen by the wise and deeply loyal Prime Minister, Duke Rosse. Militarily, they possessed Prothesis, one of the continent's three Sword Saints, and two of the continent's ten Archmages: the Grand Magus Yarrow and the mysterious Great Warlock Lasa. The nation's power, while still not matching the three great powers, was such that none of them wished to provoke the Lyon Alliance lightly.
Standing atop the Sky-Reaching Tower, the highest point of the palace, Louis IX looked out upon a sea of lights—a veritable celestial city on earth!
Seeing the capital in such peaceful and prosperous times, and hearing the flattering praises from the ministers surrounding him, Louis IX felt as if walking on clouds, immensely pleased with himself. The king, now over fifty, began to ponder his place in the history books of future generations.
After the celebration ceremony concluded, Louis IX's high spirits remained undiminished. He ordered the secret medicine presented by the Alchemist Master Danba. After consuming it, he felt vigorous and powerful, and returned to the inner palace. He commanded his usually favored concubines to remove their garments and play a chasing game within the hall. The old Louis sat upon his throne, drinking and enjoying the spectacle.
The Louis IX of this moment bore little resemblance to the handsome and dashing youth he once was. Years of wine and women had left him with dark, puffy bags under his eyes and sagging jowls. The well-defined muscles of his youth had long since vanished, replaced by layers of flabby fat.
The roaring magical flames heated the hall to the point of being uncomfortably warm, while two small fountains added moisture to the air. Realist paintings of female nudes adorned the four walls, many of them Louis's own work.
On the crimson carpet, over a dozen bodies of varying skin tones wrestled and tumbled together. Fine beads of sweat rolled down satin-smooth skin. Eager to please, the concubines performed with extra zeal; some who usually engaged in covert Sapphic affairs now took the pretence to reality. In the deep palace, where intrigue was the norm, even this feast was no exception. Two concubines who were usually favored and somewhat aloof found themselves pinned down by three or four others, being wantonly teased and toyed with. Louis IX watched, utterly delighted, completely missing the tears on those two concubines' faces—tears that were quickly wiped away by others.
As his excitement peaked, Louis IX joined the fun. Danba's secret medicine proved truly remarkable; the king's energy rivaled that of a young man. The concubines chirped and twittered, crying out delicately, feigning complaint that the king knew not how to cherish fragrant jade, insisting on tormenting them to death before he would stop.
The feast lasted until four in the morning. Exhausted but thoroughly satisfied, Louis IX, supported by two delicate and beautiful girls who looked no more than twelve or thirteen, prepared to retire to his bedchamber.
Urgent footsteps echoed in the corridor. A female official rushed in, holding an urgent dispatch, its cover a vivid, blood-red color.
The official knelt on one knee and said hastily, "Your Majesty! Great Warlock Lasa submits an urgent military report!"
Louis waved impatiently. "What urgent matter? Tell Lasa we'll discuss it tomorrow. I am exhausted today."
The female official did not leave. "Great Master Lasa insists you review it immediately! He also said... he said... even if Your Majesty is asleep, you must be awakened. If you refuse to read it, he will come in personally!"
Louis was startled. The ninety-year-old Great Warlock Lasa had been his childhood tutor. He was immensely powerful. At forty-five, he had comprehended the magic 'Outer Space Locking Spell,' establishing mysterious connections with various Otherworldly dimensions, enabling him to summon demons from them, and had taken the position of Grand Imperial Protector Mage. The old Lasa was fiercely loyal and had a fiery temper; Louis had always been somewhat afraid of him.
Louis hurriedly opened the dispatch and began to read. As he did, his face underwent rapid changes. His hand trembled, and the document fell to the floor. The old king, shaking, tried to pick it up but accidentally knocked over a golden goblet held by one of the young girls. Blood-red wine spilled, staining the document. Trembling violently, Louis suddenly backhanded the girl across the face, a palm print immediately rising on her snow-white cheek. He screamed hysterically, "Who told you to be so careless! What use are you all! What use! You want to rebel against me too, is that it? Fine, fine. I'll show you rebellion! Guards! Take her away and behead her!"
Several fierce female officials pounced, dragging the little maid away. Her凄厉的哭号 echoed through the corridors for a long time.
Louis collapsed into his seat. Everything before his eyes seemed to twist and blur. The faces that were usually so charming now appeared grotesque and sinister, as if each one harbored a conspiracy against the Bourbon dynasty.
"Ah..." the old king moaned, which eventually turned into sobs. "Why wasn't it in Lyon City? Why not in the royal palace? *I* am the messenger of the gods! The Bourbon family should be the eternal bloodline!"
The flames flickered, casting the old king's shuddering shadow on the wall, like a demon dancing wildly!
It was a long time before the old king calmed somewhat. He hurriedly threw on some robes and rushed out of his bedchamber. Seeing the tall, calm-faced Great Warlock Lasa, Louis IX's heart settled a little.
"My esteemed King," Lasa's voice was calm, as if nothing had happened, "Several senior ministers await your presence in the small council chamber."
Entering the small council chamber, seeing Prime Minister Duke Rosse, Minister of Military Affairs Marshal Rocherio, and Vice Minister of Military Affairs Count Chandler, all in disheveled attire, Louis IX felt his spirits lift slightly. The old king took his throne, ordered the important ministers to be seated, and spoke: "Regarding this matter of the Divine Miracle in Riel City, what are your views, my beloved ministers? In this time of national crisis, speak frankly on all matters."
Great Warlock Lasa's low voice was the first to sound: "According to historical records, there have been three instances of Divine Miracles bestowed upon royal and noble families on the Gloria Continent. Each time, the blessed family eventually raised armies in rebellion, war engulfed several nations, they completely exterminated all blood descendants of the previous dynasty, and ultimately formed what are now the three great powers of the continent. This reappearance of a miracle... fortunately, the Duke of Bavaria, though peerlessly brave in battle, has a thin bloodline, with only an only son, Ophirock. This saves us some trouble. This time, let this old man deal with the father and son. I will not return to the capital until I have their heads! Although the divine decree is hard to defy, even if I am cursed by thousands and eternally damned to hell, I will defy it this once!"
Duke Rosse said, "This miracle was sudden. There was no prior news from the Church of Light. And from what I know, it's possible there are reincarnated angels within the Church; it's somewhat inexplicable that they knew nothing of this event. After the miracle, the Church's influence is bound to expand rapidly. Their attitude towards this matter is crucial. In my humble opinion, Your Majesty could use this miracle to express conversion to the Church, offering abundant tributes. If trouble arises in the future, it would be best to keep the Church out of it. Secondly, the Duke of Bavaria has performed great services for the state for many years and has just received the angel's blessing. To move against him now, if handled poorly, might invoke divine wrath and popular resentment, shaking the foundations of the state. Thirdly, the Duchess is the sister of the Emperor of the O-Hung Empire. This emperor is militaristic, ambitious, and loves grand achievements. If we move against the Duke of Bavaria, it might give him a pretext to intervene. Therefore, I believe we must plan thoroughly. Preserving the Bourbon dynasty's foundation is paramount. Acting now is utterly inadvisable."
Marshal Rocherio, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them and said slowly, "The Alliance has seen no major wars in recent years. The elite troops and strong generals are mostly concentrated under the Duke of Bavaria's command. The Golden Lion Knights are renowned throughout the land, and the twelve Round Table Knights each approach the level of Sacred Knights. Forgive my bluntness, if war breaks out, I'm afraid the odds are against us."
Louis IX's face turned deathly pale. He sighed, "Could it be that the five-hundred-year Bourbon dynasty will vanish during my reign?"
Marshal Rocherio continued, unhurried, "Not necessarily. The immediate priority is to gather talented and extraordinary individuals loyal to Your Majesty. The 'Star Sky Sword Saint' Prothesis fears nothing and has a life-and-death friendship with this old minister. Even if this means defying the gods, I guarantee he will come to serve. Then, on one hand, I will train elite troops for Your Majesty, and on the other, have Prothesis monitor the Duke of Bavaria and his son. Simultaneously, gradually dispatch the Bavarian duchy's troops on external campaigns, slowly whittling away their military power. With this two-pronged approach, victory is assured."
Duke Rosse pondered for a moment, then added, "The Duke of Bavaria must also know of this divine prophecy. The urgent task is to prevent him from rebelling quickly. Any move to strip him of his authority might backfire. I believe Your Majesty must demonstrate sincerity, showing that you do not take the divine prophecy seriously, but instead regard it as an auspicious sign for the Lyon Alliance."
Rosse paused, then said resolutely, "This old minister believes Your Majesty should bestow Princess Furoya in marriage to Ophirok!"
*Clang!* The golden cup in Louis IX's hand fell to the floor once more. The old king's voice trembled, tears streaming down his face, "What! You want me to sacrifice Furoya? No! Absolutely impossible! This is utterly impossible!"
Louis IX suddenly raised his head, regaining his imperial dignity. "Draft the decree! Tomorrow, I shall lead the army myself to personally campaign against Bavaria, and will not return until victorious!"
With a *thud*, Rosse knelt, desperately clutching Louis IX's sleeve. "My King, you must not!"
Marshal Rocherio also knelt and prostrated himself, saying gravely, "Your Majesty, the Prime Minister's suggestion is likely the only solution now. We must not force the Duke to rebel when he may not yet have the intention. Moreover, with planning and action, we still have a chance of victory! To start a war now would likely cause the Alliance to immediately disintegrate!"
Louis IX stopped in his tracks, his aged face streaked with tears. "In my entire life, the person I have wronged the most is Merthais. And now you ask me to sacrifice the only daughter she left me! How can I bear this!"
The old king closed his eyes, tears falling as he recalled past affections. Since when could heroes easily pass the barrier of beauties, let alone the dashing Prince Louis of those days? That graceful figure seemed like yesterday, that world-toppling beauty still etched deeply in his heart. The passage of twenty-two years had not diminished it in the slightest, but made it even more indelible.
The prince of that time had fallen for Merthais at first sight and used every means to bring her into the palace. Seven years later, Merthais passed away, depressed, leaving only a daughter, Furoya. After Merthais's death, the five-year-old Furoya seemed to grow up overnight and from then on never addressed Louis IX as 'Father.'
As she grew older, Furoya became increasingly peerlessly beautiful and displayed extraordinary talent. She mastered all forms of martial arts and magic upon learning them. When Furoya was ten, the Archmage Yarrow, traveling the world, passed through the Lyon Alliance and was invited as a guest to the palace. During the banquet, he met Furoya and was immediately astonished by her talent. He exceptionally stayed for a month specifically to instruct Furoya in magic before continuing his travels.
Furoya's mother was gone, and she suffered bullying within the palace. Although Louis IX doted on this daughter immensely, granting her every wish, Furoya never told him of any grievances she suffered. Over time, the palace inhabitants discovered this and became increasingly bold.
By fourteen, Furoya was beginning to show her peerless elegance. Among the three thousand painted faces of the inner palace, she alone was like a pool of autumn water, or an iceberg in the nether sea, incomparably pure and beautiful.
The poisonous swamp of the palace could not tolerate purity or endure nobility. This last vestige of innocence was ultimately destined to be worn away by wind and rain.
The Fourth Prince, then eighteen years old, was the son of Louis IX's most favored imperial consort and a strong contender for the throne. His mother was a princess of the Kerch Empire. One day, he happened upon this sister, known as the Cold Palace Beauty, and was stunned, his heart itching unbearably. That night, he led his confidants to sneak into Furoya's residence.
Furoya's heart-rending cries for help pierced the sky, but the palace servants, even if they heard, fearing the Fourth Prince's power, pretended not to. Those with vile minds even snickered, speculating on what new tricks the Fourth Prince would play this time.
As if unwilling to witness this tragedy, a pillar of fire shot into the sky, illuminating the entire palace. A strong wind arose from nowhere, scattering flames in all directions. The entire palace seemed bewitched; even a single spark, upon contact, instantly burst into a great fire! Those malicious servants, amidst their running and wailing, found tiny sparks relentlessly chasing them. Once touched, the servants and maids turned into human torches in the blink of an eye. The flames, as if alive, greedily devoured flesh and blood, slowly burning nerves until they exhausted all the victims' life energy, then suddenly erupted, obliterating the charred remains into nothingness, yet leaving the souls behind to wail on the spot!
Centered on Furoya's residence, everything within a fifty-meter radius was eventually filled with raging flames, forming an immense pillar of fire that soared dozens of meters into the sky.
The summoned Louis IX stared in shock at this inferno, frantically ordering people to extinguish the fire. But how could water quench these hellish flames mixed with countless resentments? His favored consort had long since collapsed weeping, crying incessantly, "You damned vixen! How dare you seduce my son! He's your own brother! How could you be so vicious!" The surrounding attendants echoed her cries. Louis IX's face was dark. With so many voices, even though he knew full well what his son was like, he couldn't help but waver slightly.
When the court mages arrived, they too were shocked by the fire. Various ice arrows, water dragons, and ice spikes were used, but they all evaporated instantly, to no effect.
Suddenly, the flames parted like grass bowing before the wind, and Furoya stepped out from within the fire. Her formerly peerlessly pure and beautiful face was still stunning, but now bore a hint of a smile never seen before. She still wore her nightgown, with a few scratches on her arm.
The flames madly leapt upwards one last time, then completely died out. They left behind a hundred-meter diameter ruin containing only ashes; even the stone pillars had been melted into glass. It was unclear how Furoya had survived. A sinister wind blew past, carrying waves of heart-rending wails directly into the hearts of all present. Everyone present changed color.
Silence reigned over the scene, the vision of a living hell before their eyes.
Furoya walked gracefully up to Louis IX. Seeing his daughter dressed thus, Louis IX immediately understood what had happened.
A smile blossomed at the corner of Furoya's lips, its peerless radiance making the crowd feel unable to look directly at her.
"This fire was so strange. Fortunately, I hid in a safe place and survived. It's good to be alive!" Her voice, like celestial music, lingered, making all the male beings present feel their blood heat up.
Furoya glanced at the favored consort standing to the side, walked over, and said softly, "Auntie Katerina, please don't grieve anymore. The Lord will bless you to bear me another handsome and clever little brother." Furoya leaned into the consort's embrace, her hand lightly placed on the consort's trembling bosom. The cherry lips close to the consort's ear, however, uttered words utterly unbecoming of this angelic maiden: "Auntie, I'm no longer the little girl you can bully anymore. I was the one who burned Fourth Brother to death. Do you regret now having driven Mother to her despair? But don't forget, my mentor is Yarrow. Although you've lost a son, you still have parents and many siblings!" As she spoke, her five jade-like fingers tightened, sinking deeply into the breathtaking mounds of flesh.
The consort tried to cry out in pain but could make no sound. Furoya gave a radiant smile and whispered, "I am a very good little girl, after all."
In the aftermath of the catastrophe, although many doubts remained unresolved, Louis IX did not wish to investigate deeply at that moment. His anger towards the Fourth Prince, however, had only increased. In the depths of the palace, such matters weren't considered major affairs, but the Fourth Prince's actions against Furoya had touched Louis IX's greatest taboo.
Louis IX said with loving pity, "My child Furoya, you've had a fright. Sleep in my chambers tonight. Tomorrow, I will have a new palace built for you!"
Furoya, however, shook her head. "No need. I have decided to go study magic with Mentor Yarrow. He will come to fetch me now."
As soon as the words left her mouth, a huge hexagram magic array lit up amidst the ruins. Torrential mana washed over them, startling the court mages into stepping back repeatedly. A flash of lightning, and a figure gradually materialized above the magic array. A travel-worn old mage stepped through space via teleportation.
The old mage, without chanting or gesturing, cast Wind's Wings upon himself and slowly descended from the air, ethereal as an immortal, truly demonstrating the bearing of a master. Only his landing spot was unfortunate; the ruins were filled with extremely fine ash. Even the gentle airflow from the Wind's Wings was a cataclysm of mountain-collapsing and sea-roaring power to this fine dust. A gray-black whirlwind suddenly sprang up from the ground, engulfing the old mage.
Covered in dust and grime, coughing and choking, the old mage emerged from the cloud of debris. Seeing Furoya's half-smiling face made him feel even more mortified.
The old mage, feigning calm, pretended not to see Furoya and bowed to Louis IX. "This old man, Yarrow, pays his respects to Your Majesty!"
Seeing that matters had reached this point, and that his beloved daughter could benefit greatly from the guidance of the Archmage Yarrow, Louis IX did not object. He merely asked, "Great Master Yarrow, you have come a long way. Will you stay a few days so that I might seek your counsel?"
But Furoya insisted on leaving immediately. Yarrow had no choice. He handed Louis a ring; should any matter arise, rotating this ring would allow contact with Yarrow.
A cyan light shot into the sky. Yarrow, using a flight spell, carried Furoya off into the distance.
Furoya suddenly looked back and called out crisply, "Father! I will return every year. Make sure my princess's palace is built beautifully!"
Louis IX, tears streaming down his face, collapsed to the ground.
Mid-air, the old and the young continued their chatter even while flying.
"Furoya! How could you use the two magic rings I gave you like that? Those were divine artifacts! And you used them to set a house on fire!"
"Hmph! I wanted his soul to be immortal, yet unable to go anywhere, forever experiencing the agony of being burned by raging flames! Only a divine artifact has the power to imprison a soul for eternity!"
A chill ran down Yarrow's spine, and he nearly fell from the sky.
"By the way, Master!" Furoya's voice suddenly became sweet and cloying. "Even though they were divine artifacts, you gave me two so casually back then. You must have plenty more, right?"
"Ah! This..." Yarrow was tongue-tied.
"What's wrong? Either you have them or you don't. Would one of the Ten Great Archmages lie to a mere young girl...?"
The day after Furoya left, Louis IX deposed the favored consort, confined her to the cold palace, and a month later had her executed, implicating three hundred various palace personnel. The Kerch Empire was enraged and dispatched an army of eighty thousand to punish the Lyon Alliance. At that time, the Kerch Empire's national power was far superior to that of the Lyon Alliance. Louis IX sent the Duke of Bavaria with thirty thousand troops to resist, with Great Warlock Lasa assisting the army.
The two armies met in a decisive battle at the border. The night before the battle, Great Warlock Lasa single-handedly fought the enemy's three Grand Imperial Protector Mages, ultimately sealing them all into Otherworldly dimensions, achieving a great victory. During the battle itself, Archmage Yarrow suddenly appeared on the battlefield, summoning several hundred-meter-wide sheets of fire clouds. Beneath the fire clouds, no life survived, throwing the Kerch army into chaos. The Duke of Bavaria personally led five thousand Lionheart Knights, breaking through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter, penetrating to the central command and beheading the commander-in-chief. The Kerch army subsequently collapsed like a mountain falling.
Afterwards, the Duke of Bavaria pursued the retreating enemy, expanding the territory by a hundred *li*, capturing three cities. The Kerch Empire surrendered and was subsequently reduced to a third-rate nation.