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Heir of the White Lotus (Web Novel) - Chapter 1697 The Prophecy
Chapter 1697 The Prophecy
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A face emerged from the runic formation.Although it was but a mere projection of the real thing, it sent out waves of dread and power across the chamber. So much so that it seemed that the room was on the verge of crumbling.
But a simple hand seal from the lich stabilized the runic formation. And with it, the devil's face too became stable. Soon, the face became clearly visible for all to see.
Its skin was dry and red, stretched tight as if scorched by a perpetual fire.
Across the right half of the face, pale white symbols were etched into the flesh, forming intricate patterns like a living tattoo.
Its eyes were wrong. Pitch black sclera swallowed the whites entirely, and within them, pupils glowed the color of fresh blood.
From its forehead, a pair of horns jutted outward, curling back like an obsidian
crown.
It did not look human. Not even close. After it fully materialized, its blood-red eyes found the lich standing before him.
The devil's lips curled into a wicked grin as he displayed his jagged black teeth.
"Are the preparations complete?" he asked, his voice sending pangs of terror through the listener's body.
Though the Cult Leader remained steady, the same couldn't be said about the Elders. Their faces twisted into a grimace. Their hearts pounded faster, and they felt a fear unlike anything before. They couldn't even begin to wonder just how powerful the devil must truly be.
The green orbs in the lich's sockets flickered fiercely. "How long will you take to gather your men?"
"Men?" The apparition snickered, his grating laughter bouncing off the chamber walls.
"We are not men, lich. We are devils."
That was right. Man and woman were just concepts associated with humans. The one the lich was dealing with was no human. It was a devil, a creature of hell.
Hearing the sheer disdain dripping from the devil's voice, the Cult Leader tipped his head slightly.
"I apologise for my mistake," he said.
Behind him, the two Elders' eyes widened. They had never heard their master apologise to someone. But given who he was dealing with, they quickly understood. But still, it was strange to hear such words from him.
The devil's eyes gleamed with solemnity, and he asked, "What have you done about the prophecy that emerged from smoke and blood?"
The Cult Leader remained silent.
He recalled the devil's prophecy that he had been made privy to years ago, one that spoke of Tron.
The young Magus who walks the path you once did;
When all hope is lost, and when the world stands against him;
He shall rise through sheer will, unbroken and fierce.
He will claim a power darker than your own;
Yet one that binds you in ways unknown;
A magic more ominous than your deathly flame;
And from the ashes end your cursed name.
That was the prophecy born from smoke and blood. The Cult Leader knew who the 'young Magus' it was referring to.
The Dark King.
The Son of Tron.
Adam Constantine.
Years ago, in order to deal with him, the Cult Leader had utilized the Forgotten Rune. He had turned the entire world against the Dark King.
Yet he rose nevertheless.
Unbroken and fierce...
Just like the prophecy said.
But there was one thing the lich still could not understand. Just what kind of power had Adam Constantine claimed? A power supposedly darker than his own? A magic more ominous than his own?
He still did not know.
Amidst his thoughts, the devil's voice echoed once again. This time it was much more cold and unfriendly.
"I take your silence as failure then," he said with narrowed eyes.
"Need I remind you of our deal? Do you know just how much I've invested in this lowly, pathetic world? Tell me, lich..."
His words were like a whip with sharp thorns.
"Are you not going to uphold your end of the bargain?"
The Cult Leader silently looked at the devil's visage, which had twisted into an ominous scowl. His jaws parted, and he calmly said, "I assure you. Everything is under my control."
"Is it?" The devil hissed. "Then tell me... does the young Magus from the prophecy still draw breath? Does he? Or does he not?"
"...He lives."
"I will not tolerate failure, lich." The devil's voice turned colder.
His gaze bore straight through the Cult Leader's towering figure, yet the latter remained composed.
"I will not fail," said the lich.
The devil remained silent. It wasn't like he could personally set foot in Tron and harvest every soul. No. The laws of the universe forbid it. And that was why he needed the lich in the first place.
There was nothing he could do about it. He could threaten the lich. He could punish the lich. But one thing he couldn't do was... discard him.
Souls were the primary currency of the Nine Hells. The more souls a devil had, the more influence they wielded. That's why they tried to collect as many as
possible.
They did this by targeting individuals and even planets. War, death, and suffering produced souls. Devils either caused these events or took advantage of them to harvest souls.
An unguarded planet was the best target.
Normally, a planet was protected by the Will of the World and its champions.
But planets in the Outer Universe had neither. So nothing stopped the devils from interfering with such planets. That made it an easy source for souls. It required minimum investment, but yielded maximum return.
Of course, it went without saying that locating such a planet - even in the Outer Universe was a monumental task. The cosmos was vast and endless, and it was ever-expanding. The celestial bodies were always in motion. Thinking of the billions of souls almost within his grasp, the devil calmed down. He coldly gazed at the Cult Leader and said in an even voice, "So, are your preparations complete?"
"Yes," said the lich. "The portals are functional. I only require the fuel to activate
them."
"Very well." The devil nodded. "I shall have the mana crystals sent."
The lich bowed slightly. He then asked, "How long until you gather your...
devils?"
The devil's lips curled into a wide, feral grin.
"Within a month, my legion will be ready to lay waste to your world."
