Don't confiscate my citizenship

The Southern Continent is the overlord Crean Empire located south of the Knox Mountains.

The imperial capital Brilda is located in the southern hinterland of the empire. Its prosperity and beauty are no less than any city along the mountains and coasts of the empire. Towering classical-style buildings are dotted in every corner of Brilda. The center of the city-state has a monument. The square is surrounded by white monuments and dark gray hero statues of different styles, with a strong artistic atmosphere.

Every March and April, warm spring arrives, the climate becomes warm and bright, and the air begins to be filled with the fragrance of flowers and deep music.

From time to time, the spacious streets are illuminated by a glimmer of dusk, a wisp of fragrance from a rose bush, or a piece of soft music played by a troubadour, like the chirping of birds in a greenhouse, even at sunset the city-state can see It looks like a pure heaven.

As night approaches, the city hall is illuminated with lights, and the sound of music covers up the dry sound of the side door dotted with gold ornaments opening.

Go through the corridors into the luxurious interior, go downstairs, until you reach the inner side of an office on the basement floor, open another door, and walk inside.

The narrow passage is not friendly to tall or strong people. After turning a few turns and about three to four hundred steps, the sound finally dissipated completely, revealing a new space.

Hidden deep beneath the ground of the Creja Empire is a palace forgotten by time. It is the center of power buried deep beneath the ground. Only magic subtly casts hazy starlight into this foggy space.

On both sides of the stone street, buildings are built of historical rocks, and at the end, a castle stands, with its obsidian exterior walls shining with a cold light.

A figure walked through the ancient city that was isolated from the outside world and approached the gate of the castle. After passing through the finely carved corridor, he slowly opened the black iron door and arrived at the magnificent meeting hall.

The hall was cold and dim, and the candlelight on the dome replaced the sunlight.

The center of this illustrious hall is occupied by a banquet table. On the thirteen high-backed chairs on both sides, scarlet gemstone totems symbolize their owners.

Marquis Helitier was sitting on the seventh chair, with his fingers flat on his legs, his eyes closed tightly, as silent as a rock. The only candle was not enough to illuminate her, but instead turned her image into darkness. The tear mole under the eye is clearly visible.

"Why haven't you woken up today?"

The visitor took off his incense-stained military uniform, looked at the face of Marquis Herrithier, and asked.

"A battle took place in the north of the Protos Empire that shouldn't have happened."

Marquis Helitier murmured, as if still peering through the hazy mist.

"Major General Fanreku and Bishop Nirvana?"

The strong young man who came to the main hall leaned on the eighth high-backed chair on the opposite side of Marquis Helitier, with a trace of arrogance and arrogance belonging to an absolutely strong man in the corners of his mouth.

He had already heard Marquis Helitier say that there would be a key node in the short-term turmoil in the Northern Continent——

After Major General Van Leku of the Protos Empire was killed by the Nirvana Bishop Askosan, if no one in the empire noticed this change and the truth was buried, then it is very likely that this would be the beginning of the gradual collapse of the Protos Empire. .

However, in his opinion, the changes in this kind of low-level race country are no longer surprising.

Even if those guys named Cardinals of the Resurrection Church in the world today are very strong, they are just miserable creatures that will turn into dust in just a few hundred years, and they are far from being on the same level as them.

The only thing worth paying attention to is the group of things that led Bishop Annihilation to kill Major General Fanreku behind the scenes.

Once the Marquis of Somerset woke up, the world after ten thousand years was actually divided into two continents, the north and the south.

After they allowed the Blood Moon to reappear in the Southern Continent, the next step would sooner or later be to come into contact with those really troublesome things in the Northern Continent.

It's just that both sides now know very well that at this point in time, there is no need to spend too much effort to interfere with another distant continent, and they should put their power in front of them.

"Major General Fanreku should have been killed by Askesan. In this battle, it was the Nirvana Bishop Askesan... the overlord Sigrid... the apostles should also have intervened... In the end, everything was in the light of fire. it's over."

Harrithir corrected in a cold voice.

"..."

The Marquis of Somerset, sitting opposite, fell silent.

"Like the eighth-level epic spell [Great Destruction] of the Southern Continent's Destruction Bishop Ivanos..."

The final words added by Marquis Heritier were also filled with uncertainty.

Because there is no reason for Ivanos to appear in the Northern Continent at this time.

If Bishop of Destruction Ivanos no longer keeps an eye on each other with Loren, the great priest of the Church of Destiny, it is likely that Loren will go to the central part of the Southern Continent and sneak into the Kingdom of Aloran to help the Immortal Sword Emperor Juliana eliminate decay. Bishop Farmer will create a new imbalance.

"Did you not see the situation this time at all in your previous divination?"

asked the Marquis of Somerset again.

Divination magic will inherently cause deviations between the divination content and the actual results in the real world due to various complex interferences.

Harrithir's prediction of the situation in the southern continent will be much more accurate than her prediction of the northern continent. In addition to the geographical distance that increases the consumption of magic and limits the content, it will also be due to the interference of the prophets in the northern continent. There is only a sequence of deviations. If Helitier saw it before the prophet took action, it may be seriously inaccurate due to the influence of the prophet's actual actions. If Helitier saw it before the prophet did something, What you see after taking action will most likely be more accurate in the short term.

This battle should be regarded as a major event in the northern continent, but until it happened, Harrithir had never seen the slightest shadow in the prediction.

The Marquis of Somerset couldn't help but wonder if the prophet had become stronger again, and could even deceive Harrithir.

Marquis Helitier pondered for a long time. She slowly raised her head, her crimson eyes flickering slightly in the darkness.

"It doesn't matter. No matter what happens on the northern continent, it won't affect Duke Rashal."

Neither her nor the prophet's divination is valid for the ninth level. All existences of the ninth level are special factors other than divination spells.

The vampire clan with the third ancestor, Duke Rashal, does not need to worry about the prophet far away in the northern continent reaching out to the southern continent first.

"Soon we will be able to take back the land that belongs to us, and this is just the first step."

Harrithir's voice left echoes in every corner, cold and powerful, as if announcing the irreversible final outcome to her fellow ancestors who would return here in the near future.

…

Northern Continent, Protos Empire.

The imperial capital, Herom, is the lowest level of the empire's frozen prison.

Prisoners imprisoned on this level wear straitjackets, and their hands, feet, and even heads will be fixed in the blockade. Even the eyes are tightly blocked by a mask. Their jaws cannot be opened even half an inch, leaving only a few gaps. Its breathing.

A demonic eye opens.

Even the barrier can't cover up his magic power fluctuations that would make ordinary humans instinctively frightened. There is an indescribable mist in his slender, cold eyes.

"..."

The direction he was looking was to the north of the empire.

Then he closed his eyes again.

…

At this time, there was a snowfield thousands of kilometers north of Herrom in the Protos Empire.

The originally silvery snow had turned black, and the ice turned into steam at the moment of the explosion. The clear lake was evaporated by the high temperature of the explosion, leaving only a dry river bed and a dead silence. The snow on the mountain peaks melted, forming a line. A silver-white waterfall continuously washes away the scorched earth.

The once glorious city of Bandra, located on this border snowfield, has now disappeared.

The tall towers, bustling markets, and majestic temples of the past were all reduced to ashes. Even though the unnatural and devastating explosion had ended long ago, dust and smoke were still intertwined in the sky, and the light was blocked, leaving only a dull yellow. .

On the ground, lava-like flames spread everywhere, and heat waves swept around, making the air unbearably hot. Close to the original city gate, there was a huge unnatural pit with an incalculable depth, and pungent smoke was everywhere. Smokey flavor.

Only the wind was singing, as if it was mourning all this, and as if the suffering souls trapped in this dead city were finally freed and rushed to the land of heaven.

At the center of the explosion, the soil at its edge was still red, emitting a faint red light. A column of black smoke suddenly rose from the center of the pit, intertwined with the surrounding dust, like a black hand trying to grasp this dead land. The last trace of life crawled out of it.

The originally gloomy robe of the black-robed figure was now in shreds, revealing the scars on his body. The originally lacquer-like robe was now the color of dust and smoke, with only the complex magic emblems on the robe still flickering. , even under the mist that obscured his face, his slightly shining eyes were exposed.

The originally tall and majestic figure of Bishop Nirvana now looked a little weak, and his deep eyes were now filled with bloodshot eyes.

Around the two of them, the scorching waves still continued. At the moment of the explosion, they tried their best to cast the most powerful shield spell, and with the help of life-saving trump cards, they were able to withstand the devastating blow at extremely close range.

Despite this, both men were severely injured.

The man in black robe coughed hard several times and tried to stabilize his breathing, while Bishop Annihilation clasped his hands together and recited some uncommon spell in a low voice. A faint halo began to shine on his body to relieve his injuries.

There was a distance of tens of meters between the two of them, as if there was a tacit understanding.

Maybe after such a long time, they might still catch up with the Holy Son of Tyrant, but now with their current state, no one knows if they will be counterattacked if they pursue him again.

What frightened the two of them was that the Holy Son of Tyrant had a seventh-level large-scale wind magic that could withstand the explosion safely.

This mysterious Holy Son of Tyrant has more secrets than they imagined. There may be a seventh-level mysterious existence hidden in him.

At this time, a seventh-level person is enough to kill them.

"Askesan, I'm leaving first."

The man in black robe's voice became much hoarse.

Now he no longer wanted to go with Asksan.

Although he and Askesan still may not be able to tell the winner at this moment, after all, this is the territory of the Protos Empire, and the [Abyss Black Worm] has also fallen into a state of damage. Even if you want to repair it, I am afraid that He also had to find a top card maker, and it took a lot of time to repair it. There was no need for him to stay here anymore, he had more important things to do.

That wolf-shaped summon was too evil. Not only could it seal other summons, it could also blow up other magic cards that were in a sealed state.

"After one month, remember to fulfill your first promise."

Asksan still smiled coldly, looking at the retreating back of the man in black robe and said.

"Don't worry, everything is still within the trajectory set by the prophet. It's harmless, as long as you can successfully complete the finishing work."

The man in black robe responded.

But he thought again and turned around for the time being.

"Do you know the true identity of Holy Son Tyrant? I can confirm that he is not from Duke Berenhard's family."

The man in black robe looked at Asksan. He had never heard of such a seal master in the Protos Empire.

It stands to reason that its disguised identity in society should not be too high-profile, because as early as a few months ago, the Church of Resurrection was an evil organization severely cracked down on by the Protos Empire.

But people with this kind of sealing magic ability should not be completely unable to show their fighting skills.

What's bad now is not only that he escaped with the domineering Catholic Sigrid, but he didn't even get to see his true face.

"It doesn't matter who he is, Sigrid is no longer a threat, and the power of her Son cannot be used in the metropolis near the center of the Protos Empire."

Asksan shook his head. He wanted to know who the Holy Son of Tyrant was more than the apostle.

"Don't worry, I won't let him escape the blockade area in the northern part of the empire."

Asksan said to the man in black robe with a cold expression.

The entire northern part of the empire is still the home of his Nirvana branch.

Although the Holy Son of Tyrant is unlikely to have other prominent identities or interpersonal relationships in the Protos Empire, after all, the rules of their Resurrection Church have always been like this.

But all the variables are only possible if he can bring Sigrid back to the imperial capital!