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Heir of the White Lotus (Web Novel) - Chapter 1695 The Beginning of the End
Chapter 1695 The Beginning of the End
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Aranal, Haynam Empire.Emperor Leland stood on the balcony as he gazed at the sprawling city before
him. A crumpled parchment lay clasped in his hand, its contents causing a frown to mark his face.
The Wind Lord, Alain Gray, stood beside him, his arms crossed and his expression equally dark. "How bad is it?" he asked.
Leland clenched his teeth. "It's bad, Alain," he said. "Very bad."
The parchment contained the latest report of the casualties within the Empire's territory. It spoke of the number of Mana Core Magi that had died in the past year alone.
And the cause of their deaths?
The Dark King.
"How many?" The Wind Lord pressed.
"Too many!" The parchment in Leland's hand crumbled to dust. "Dozens of Magi have been killed in these past few months alone. The last of the great prisons has fallen as well."
"And the experiment subject?" Alain asked, referring to the four-headed undead.
"Gone." Leland let out a heavy sigh.
He finally turned to his fellow Elder and continued, "Constantine has proven to be a far greater threat than we'd imagined. Sometimes I can't help but wonder... do we truly need to-"
Alain shot him a heavy glare. "Do not question the Master's motive, Leland." Emperor Leland swallowed the words in his throat. But still, he couldn't help but silently wonder, What is the Master's fixation with Adam? Why must we continue to go after the boy despite all that has happened? Damn it all.
The Cult Leader had been generous enough not to gatekeep the method of forming a mana core. As a result, the cult had a large number of Mana Core Magi, far more than any other faction in Tron.
But what was the point if all these Magi were sent to be butchered at the hands of the Dark King? It all seemed so meaningless to Leland. Especially considering they were in the middle of a great war.
Was it wise to send the cult's Mana Core Magi to their deaths? If this continued, the cult would hardly have any experts left before the war even ended. The Winter Lord and the Flame Lord were dead. The Magi who were meant to replace them were also dead.
For the first time, Leland couldn't help but give rise to a faint feeling of hopelessness. He glanced at the Wind Lord, one of the most staunch supporters of the Cult Leader, and only one word echoed in his mind. Sheep.
"The Lanterns can guide us to the boy's current location," he said. "But then what?"
It was impossible to apprehend the Dark King, let alone kill him. Besides, the Cult Leader had forbidden the Magi to kill him anyway.
Leland understood the reason. But how far was the Cult Leader willing to go before enough was enough?
He did not know. He would follow his master to the ends of the world, but he couldn't help but begin to question the lich's judgment.
Especially in the past few months. The Cult Leader had completely withdrawn, choosing not to share his plans with others - not even with the Inner Council. After learning that there was a mole within the organization, the lich had grown paranoid. And upon realizing that the leaks hadn't stopped despite killing a few traitors, his paranoia had increased severalfold.
One had to know that the Cult Leader's mental state wasn't that great to begin with. This was something that only the Elders of the Inner Circle knew about. They knew that, in the past, the lich had experienced something that turned him half-mad. What it was, they did not know.
Still, they were fiercely loyal to him. It wasn't just because they believed that the Cult Leader's strength was supreme, but also because of the future that he painted. They knew that once this world was sacrificed to the devils, the lich would take them all to the Greater Universe.
In the pursuit of the higher arcane arts, the Magi of the Cult were willing to do anything. Anything.
Also, it went without saying that the lich had firm control over his followers' actions. The cultists could not disobey him. Still, the Inner Circle consisted of Magi who followed the lich of their own accord. Despite being subjected to servitude, they still believed in him.
A prime example was the Winter Lord. He wasn't enslaved like the rest of the cultists. He had known the lich the longest. And it was known among the upper echelons that the Cult Leader treated him like his own kin.
But the lich had changed since the Winter Lord's death.
Perhaps that is where it all began, Leland thought grimly.
The beginning of the end.
"We need to find a way to stop that boy," The Wind Lord's cold voice cut through the air.
"I've read the reports as well," he continued. "He's wrecking our supply lines, burning cities to the ground, and spreading terror in the hearts of our soldiers. We cannot allow him to wantonly continue doing that. He must be stopped!" He turned to Leland. "Every moment we delay, more of our forces suffer. The morale is declining by the day, and it's tilting the scales of war on the frontlines."
The Wind Lord paused for a moment, then said in a cold voice, "We end this
now."
Because of the Dark King's actions, the war that the Cult believed would go on for years, if not decades, was gradually being expedited. The number of Mana Core Magi dying at his hands every week was simply astonishing.
"You wish to go after him?" Leland asked in an even voice.
"If I have to," said the Wind Lord.
Leland deeply looked at the Elder, thinking about what kind of death he'd face at the hands of the boy. Yes, he did not believe for a single moment that the Wind Lord would emerge victorious. The Dark King was simply... just that good. He let out a heavy sigh, then said, "Very well. I'll gather-"
But right at that moment, he froze. And so did the Wind Lord.
A cold, ominous voice echoed directly in their minds. And the moment they
heard that voice, they shuddered. For they knew who it belonged to.
The Cult Leader's voice thundered inside their heads:
Prepare for the final phase of the war.
