My queen is rebelling!

Chapter 199: The Gathering Storm, The Ultimate Target—Adelheid Angeren!

Adelheid's gaze swept over Nephthys, and she said in a deep voice:

“This is of great importance. I'll ask you one last time, is the information reliable?”

Seeing Adelheid still so cautious and suspicious at this time, Nephthys really wanted to retort, 'It's all news from your husband, why don't you go ask him?'

Nephthys suppressed the murmurs in her heart and replied:

“It was personally investigated by Master. Andre, who is beside Saxon, the Third Prince of Ceylon, has been secretly monitored by Master.

In addition, our Military Intelligence has people arranged all over the country, including beside the Grand Duke of the Southern Border.”

“Okay.”

Nephthys paused for a moment, then continued:

“Your Highness, there is one more thing that Master asked me to inform you in advance.

Grand Duke of the Western Border, Faginham Francis, will also announce his participation in this rebellion soon.”

Adelheid's eyes suddenly deepened, staring at Nephthys, without saying a word.

Nephthys continued:

“Of course, the rebellion is fake. Faginham has reached a friendly agreement with our Master. He will feign rebellion and participate in the rebel army of the Grand Duke of the Southern Border, providing us with real-time information from the rebels, so that we can grasp the overall situation.

He will even give them a surprise attack at a critical moment!”

Adelheid snorted softly:

“Your Master is truly omnipotent. If I have the chance, I must meet him in person!”

Nephthys muttered to herself:

“It's probably soon, I hope you won't be surprised by then!”

… …

The news of the rebellion in the Southern Border of Effie, like having grown wings, was placed on the desks of various forces that were closely watching Effie's movements in less than a day.

Kingdom of Ceylon, Third Prince Saxon Cromwell immediately convened his subordinates for a meeting after receiving a message from Andre that the plan was successful.

At the same time, he secretly ordered the 1,000 "elite-level" troops [Oath of Ceylon] stationed on the southern border of Effie to immediately march towards the Southern Border, and together with the Southern Border troops, advance towards the capital, Florence.

For some small principalities, elite-level troops are like a dimensionality reduction strike, and 1,000 troops can rampage within the country without any scruples.

Even Effie, an old and powerful country, has not been able to possess an "elite-level" army.

What's more, Saxon, or rather Andre, also has some "guides" in Effie, and it is not a problem to capture Florence within a few days.

Three thousand "elite-level" [Oath of Ceylon], excluding the aforementioned one thousand, there are still two thousand.

One thousand of them remained to guard the kingdom, while he took the remaining one thousand to Florence to participate in the Northwest Regional Exchange Conference.

After Saxon finished the arrangements, he looked in the direction of the palace. The special envoy from the Western Region Empire was negotiating with his father, asking the Kingdom of Ceylon not to interfere in Effie's internal strife.

Saxon had naturally found sufficient reasons. The one thousand soldiers stationed on the border had been temporarily removed from the military register and became masterless mercenaries.

They were hired by the Grand Duke of the Southern Border, and had nothing to do with their Kingdom of Ceylon.

The plan has been proceeding perfectly and smoothly, and it is almost time to reap the rewards.

Saxon took a deep breath, his chest burning with joy and excitement. It had been too long, he had waited too long for this day.

Effie's fertile land, golden seaports, and that peerless queen!

His heart was pounding. He wanted to conquer Effie openly in front of the Northwest countries, and even the representatives of the Charter Concordat from all over the continent!

Let the whole world see the prestige of the second-in-line heir of the strongest kingdom in the Northwest Continent. He has full confidence that after he conquers Effie and returns in triumph, this second-in-line will automatically move forward one place!

From an illegitimate child to the center of the world stage, Saxon's heart was filled with endless pride and confidence—

He should be the protagonist of this era!

… …

Eastern Region Empire, the schemers from the East were also eager to try.

Prince Sacha stopped Quentin, who was about to leave, and quietly explained one thing:

“The Lord of Shadows is also in Effie now, and has also established an organization called the Military Intelligence Agency.

According to intelligence, he should have reached some kind of agreement with the Queen of Effie, so he will definitely show up at that time. After this person appears, find a chance to kill him!”

Quentin nodded thoughtfully:

“Killing him is no problem, but there is one thing. I heard that he has a technique to escape into the sub-dimension. Unless a Saint is dispatched, it won't be easy, right?”

Murderous intent flashed in Sacha's eyes:

“Then a Saint it is!

In my estimation, a Saint-level figure will probably be needed to resolve this Effie situation.

Adelheid is not to be underestimated. Effie is also a Charter Concordat country after all. Who knows what trump cards they have secretly left behind.

As long as the other party has a Saint-level combat force, ignore the Five Nations Agreement and directly send a Saint to kill this Lord of Shadows at the first opportunity.”

Quentin's expression changed slightly. He naturally knew the reason for Sacha's determination.

The close relationship between Isabella Windsor, the Golden Winged Woman, and the Lord of Shadows is no longer a secret.

Especially in the Eastern Region Empire, those who are not on good terms with the Sacha Group are watching the self-proclaimed First Prince of the Continent, Sacha, as if he were a joke.

The goddess you pursue like a simp was abducted by someone with a simple gesture.

The contrast and ridiculousness almost drove Sacha crazy.

Sacha's jealousy and resentment towards this "Lord of Shadows", whose real identity he doesn't even know, has risen to the extreme.

He must kill this Lord of Shadows and snatch Isabella away in order to wash away the humiliation on his body.

Quentin nodded slightly and said:

“I understand. Don't worry, isn't there also Black Tomb? Mamen, the legend of Black Tomb, Saint Garcia, and the Lich King also have deep hatred with the 'Lord of Shadows'.

If this kid really dares to show his face at that time, it is estimated that the people from Black Tomb will take care of him without us even having to do anything.”

Sacha's face looked a little better, and he said:

“Two thousand elite-level [Dragon Wing Guards] have been hidden in the teams of the Duchy of Saint Oak and the Duchy of Silverfrost respectively.

If the situation becomes stalemate, Uncle Wang can make his own decisions and let the [Dragon Wing Guards] make the final decision.”

Prince Quentin looked very relaxed and said:

“It shouldn't be necessary. We also have three legendary ranks. Effie can't handle the top combat power alone, let alone a large number of semi-legendary and golden ranks. When it really comes to a bloody fight, Black Tomb will not stand idly by.”

Sacha said in a deep voice:

“Don't underestimate the enemy. I have arranged manpower according to five times the strength of Effie, in order to achieve success in one battle!

Uncle Wang, I'll leave everything to you. As long as we successfully take down Effie this time, I won't be far from that position!”

“Don't worry, they won't be able to make any waves!”

… …

Central Empire, Imperial Capital, Quintin, Administrative District North, House of Lords, Upper House.

This is the core power organ of the empire, second only to the imperial palace.

At the deepest part of the Upper House building complex, stands a simple and ancient three-story building.

No matter how much power and status one possesses in the empire, anyone who passes by this three-story building will consciously slow down and show respect.

Because a conspicuous sign hangs at the entrance of this three-story building—Chief Office of the Upper House of the Imperial House of Lords.

Samuel Jones, Secretary-General of the Legal Committee of the House of Lords, carrying a dark black briefcase, walked calmly through the gate, entered the building, walked to the third room from the end on the second floor, and gently knocked on the door.

Soon, a refined voice with a hint of magnetism came from inside the room:

“Is that Samuel?

Come in.”

Samuel carefully pushed open the door. An old man was facing away from the door, tending to a pot of valuable flowers and plants by the window.

Samuel did not speak immediately, but waited quietly aside.

The old man did not speak again either. Time passed by minute by minute, and Samuel's face did not show the slightest anxiety.

Finally, the old man, having finished his ikebana activity, sighed with satisfaction:

“This iris florentina was just sent over by His Majesty. It has to be said that women are meticulous. I have served so many emperors, and only Senice understands my hobbies.”

The rest would only be rewarded with money, land, and such.

Actually, there's nothing wrong with a woman being emperor, is there!”

Samuel bowed slightly in response.

The Chief can call the current Emperor by her name without restraint, but he doesn't have that privilege.

This sigh soon turned into a strange murmur:

“But a woman who is too strong-willed is not very good. My nephew isn't bad either, so why don't you fancy him?

If you were willing to become one of us, wouldn't you be able to sit firmly on the throne!”

After sighing, the old man slowly turned around.

Heisenberg was impeccably dressed, his hair neatly combed, his eyes gentle, and a kind smile always on his face.

The way he spoke was slow and deliberate, making him seem more like a university professor than a high-ranking bureaucrat.

Samuel bowed and said:

“Sir, news has come from Effein.”

In the Central Empire, when everyone faces Heisenberg, they neither address him by his position nor by his title, but always replace it with the word “Sir.”

A hint of playfulness appeared in Heisenberg's eyes, and he slowly said:

“Could it be that our dear Mr. Chazot couldn't help but take action?”

Samuel replied:

“Yes, the heir to the Southern Territory Grand Duke is dead, and the Southern Territory has rebelled!

This is the detailed information sent back by our secret agents in the Southern Territory. It is reported that the vanguard of the rebellion has already arrived at the most important military fortress in the Effein Southern Territory—the Bastion Fortress.”

Heisenberg's tone was playful:

“If all goes as expected, in another ten days, they will be at the gates of Effein City.”

Heisenberg spoke lightly, as if he didn't think that the Bastion Fortress, which Effein's ministers regarded as a solid fortress, could withstand the Southern Territory rebels.

Samuel said:

“That's about right. The one in the East is aiming for this, taking advantage of the gathering of nations in Florence for the Northwest Regional Exchange Conference to give Effein such a blow, forcing the Corleone royal family to step down.”

Heisenberg seemed to have thought of something interesting, and the corners of his mouth slightly curved, saying:

“This Chazot is good at conspiracy and tricks, but it's a pity he's too young.

Young people, having never experienced any setbacks, being born as high-ranking princes, everything goes smoothly, and they always think that everything in this world can develop according to their plans.

Too naive.”

Heisenberg's words revealed sarcasm and contempt for Chazot Tang. Heisenberg had climbed up from an ordinary small nobleman step by step. His power and prestige were gradually accumulated through his own efforts.

From the bottom of his heart, he looked down on people like Chazot who were born in Rome and held supreme power.

Samuel chimed in:

“Our Mr. Chazot Tang is fascinated by the title of the First Prince of the Continent. Does he really think that the old foxes of the Windsor family can be manipulated by just one or two ports?

If it were that simple, the wealthiest family on this continent would have been destroyed countless times.”

Heisenberg looked at Samuel, his eyes showing gratification, pointed at him, and said:

“Look, even one of my assistants can see it more clearly than him.

Fortunately, Chazot's goal this time is consistent with ours. With this First Prince of the Continent rushing ahead, we can quietly follow behind and watch him perform.

The succubus daughter of the Dragon God Emperor is no match for Chazot.

The throne is probably still going to fall into Chazot's hands. The Eastern Domain Empire will be our opponent sooner or later. We might as well take this opportunity to see the methods of this prince in advance!”

Samuel flattered:

“Sir, you are wise.”

Heisenberg's tone was still gentle:

“After our plan succeeds, we will take the initiative to withdraw from Effein and leave Effein to Chazot. Let him taste the anger from the Golden Wing Family.

By the way, I would also like to understand the true strength of my old classmate!”

Aziz Windsor, the head of the Golden Wing Family and Isabella's father, and Heisenberg were university classmates, both graduating from Constantine University's Law School.

Samuel raised his eyebrows slightly and said in a low voice:

“Then the DuPont family and Gore of Effein…”

Heisenberg recalled briefly and said casually:

“Tools should naturally be discarded after they are used. They know too much. You take care of it.”

Samuel was not surprised at all. Heisenberg's style of doing things was like this.

Although he always looks gentle and elegant to everyone, his heart is colder and more vicious than anyone else.

One who can unite with the Demon King Asmodeus to murder his own emperor, his character can be imagined.

Samuel thought to himself, perhaps I will be one of the tools you abandon sooner or later.

Samuel silently suppressed the thought in his heart and waited for Heisenberg's next instructions.

Soon, Heisenberg asked:

“When is Grand Duke Ferdinand preparing to depart?”

Samuel seemed to know he was going to ask this question and immediately replied:

“Three days later, the Grand Duke will enter the palace to bid farewell to His Majesty.”

Heisenberg nodded slightly and said:

“He is going as the rotating chairman of the Charter Alliance Organization. It is not good for our House of Lords to send someone to intervene, so let Joren go with him.

If something unexpected happens at that time, he can also represent me to handle it.”

An expression of expectation appeared on Samuel's face. Joren Weidheimer, Heisenberg's own nephew.

He is also the imperial consort candidate that Heisenberg has been strongly recommending to Her Majesty the Empress.

Samuel bowed slightly:

“Okay, I will arrange for Young Master Joren to enter the rotating chairmanship.”

Outside the palace, Grand Duke Ferdinand looked at the young man behind him, who was preparing to go to Florence with him as a military attaché, and a hint of surprise appeared in his eyes, and he asked:

“Is this Sir's intention?”

Joren looked to be in his thirties, with bright and gentle eyes, a straight posture, a thin face, and like his uncle, he often wore a faint smile, with a humble and kind attitude.

Hearing Grand Duke Ferdinand's question, he bowed slightly and said respectfully:

“Your Excellency Grand Duke, yes, Sir hopes that I can gain more experience with the Continent's First Grand Duke, and specifically instructed that I must obey the Grand Duke's orders.

If there is anything I do wrong, please punish me.”

Grand Duke Ferdinand was noncommittal to Joren's flattery, and chuckled:

“Sir is too worried. Baron Joren Weidheimer is an outstanding young man of the empire. I also feel much younger working with you.

Let's go, we will set off after bidding farewell to His Majesty.”

“Okay.”

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned, and the two did not get to see Her Majesty the Empress.

Grand Duke Ferdinand looked at the reason given by the female official, “His Majesty is unwell and unable to receive guests. Please depart on your own, Grand Duke, and do not need to bid farewell,” his heart moved slightly, and his eyes swept over Joren beside him imperceptibly.

Joren's face was a little embarrassed. It seemed that he also knew why the Empress did not want to see the two of them.

Ferdinand chuckled in his heart, feeling a little helpless towards his Majesty's childish temper, and said:

“Please tell Her Majesty that Baron Joren and I will certainly live up to Her Majesty's expectations and complete this mission successfully.”

After that, he took Joren, whose expression had returned to gentleness, and hurried towards Florence.

At the same time, after receiving the information from Samuel Jones, the head of the first overseas station of the Military Intelligence Bureau, the Constantine Station, Cohen was slightly surprised. Joren Weidheimer is also coming?

Is this the imperial consort that Heisenberg has been strongly recommending to Senice?

Cohen pondered for a moment, then the corners of his mouth slightly curved. Windsor told him that Senice had complained to her a lot about this Baron Joren, who wanted to eat swan meat.

He suddenly had an idea to tease his Majesty the Empress, who didn't know what was wrong with her and was always mocking him.

He opened the communication stone with Her Majesty the Empress, looked at the many messages mocking him above, Cohen smiled slightly, not caring, and slowly entered a line of text:

“Your Majesty the Empress, are you interested in making a deal with me, so that Baron Joren, who has always been committed to being your imperial consort, will never dare to mention this matter again…”

……

In the depths of the remote and immeasurable ancient forest, a castle made of dark black megaliths has stood there for what seems like ten thousand years.

Black Tomb Headquarters!

The castle gate was tightly closed, and strange symbols and skull patterns were carved on the two heavy door panels, exuding a gloomy aura.

Two guards in black robes with stern faces stood like statues, their eyes hollow and their aura cold.

Inside the castle, the light was as dim as if it had been swallowed, the dome of the hall was extremely high, and a few flickering candlelight flickered in the wind, casting twisted shadows.

Old banners and specimens of various strange creatures hung on the walls, including winged demon cubs and the heads of multi-headed giant snakes, all devoid of life.

Yet, their eyes seemed to peer into everything from the darkness.

Deep inside was the core area of the Black Tomb organization: the council hall.

A massive round stone table stood in the center, surrounded by chairs adorned with skulls and dark magic arrays. On the table rested a crystal emitting an eerie green light.

At the far end of the hall was a high platform with several black thrones.

A low, eerie voice echoed as three figures slowly materialized around the round stone table, taking their seats in order.

Mamen, the Third Councilor of the Black Tomb and Lord of the Third Layer of Hell, sat at the front, addressing the empty thrones on the high platform not far away:

“The Five Tomb Lords summon us. Is something significant afoot?”

Behind him were the Fourth and Fifth Councilors respectively.

All three were at the Legendary rank in cultivation.

As Mamen's voice faded, a cloud of black mist rose from one of the thrones further back, and a hoarse voice spoke:

“The operation involving Effiein is about to begin.”

Mamen's eyes flickered, and he glanced at the two councilors behind him, replying in a low voice:

“Just me, Four, and Five are going?”

The black mist responded:

“Nix and Garcia will also go.”

Nix Bone Shadow, the current Lich King of the Lich clan 'Wings of Eternal Darkness,' a Saint!

Garcia Lance, the Oathbreaker, a Saint-level Paladin who worships the 【Oath of Defection】!

Two Saints, three Legends!

The voice in the mist continued:

“And I as well.”

A look of intense shock simultaneously washed over the faces of the three.

The presence of two Saints was already surprising enough to Mamen and the others, but for the Mist to go as well?

One might think the Black Tomb was targeting a human empire!

As if sensing the astonishment in Mamen's heart, the black mist slowly said:

“Queen Effiein is not as simple as you imagine. What she carries is of great importance.

Frankly, if I hadn't foreseen the great changes to come, I wouldn't have agreed to move against this woman in principle.

In fact, just what she carries reveals much about her identity and origin. Acting rashly could trigger unforeseen consequences.

Not to mention she's backed by Effiein.

A genuine nation of the Gods' Sons, bound by the Divine-Devil Charter.”

Mamen raised an eyebrow slightly, and said softly:

“Isn't Shazor confident he can strip Yadel of her Effiein Queen status? As long as she's not the Queen, we'll have far fewer concerns when we act.”

A faint sigh came from the black mist:

“But I always feel that something is off.

This woman possesses such a thing, yet she became the queen of a Charter signatory nation.

It's as if… as if, in the darkness, someone is granting her a protective charm, making me feel a sense of dread.”

Mamen didn't know what to say for a moment. There probably weren't many beings on this continent who could inspire dread in the Tomb Lord of the Black Tomb.

Mamen replied in a low voice:

“Shazor should still be reliable. He's also contacted people from the Kingdom of Ceylon. There are four thousand 'Elite' troops alone, and so many Legends.

I doubt we'll even need to lift a finger. Effiein will fall. Without the protection of the Effiein Queen status, Yadel will be at our mercy.

Besides, don't we have an even better trump card?”

Mamen's voice suddenly became much more playful, and he continued:

“This stunningly beautiful Queen Consort, like our Saint Garcia, is also an unadulterated love-struck fool!

Judging from past events, the Queen of Effiein cares deeply for her husband, whom we've turned into an idiot.

As long as we keep her husband under control, she will have no choice but to obey!”

The Fourth and Fifth Councilors behind him quickly coughed, simultaneously admiring Mamen's audacity.

This person truly was the most unique existence in the Black Tomb, daring to openly sprinkle salt on a Saint's wounds.

Everyone in the Black Tomb knew that Garcia had betrayed the Holy Church and joined the Black Tomb in a fit of rage because his beloved wife had committed suicide, violating the doctrines of the Holy Church.

The black mist seemed more interested in Mamen's words, and asked:

“Is the information reliable?

Could it be a flaw deliberately left by the Queen of Effiein?

I find it hard to imagine that such a woman would care so much about a man?”

Mamen patiently replied:

“It's reliable. According to my contacts in Florence, Queen Yadel of Effiein has lived with King Cohen since she was very young.

In Yadel's mind, Cohen is probably the combination of four roles that are very important to women: child, younger brother, childhood sweetheart, and husband.

Besides, Cohen is also a student she taught herself, pouring a lot of effort and emotion into him.

I can say with certainty that Cohen Corleone is Yadel's weakness, otherwise she wouldn't have sent him out of Florence at this time.”

The voice of the black mist said:

“I understand. Proceed according to the plan. Let Shazor take the lead first. I think there should be others besides Shazor who will attack Effiein.

When they have forced the Queen of Effiein to use up all her cards, then we will act.”

The three responded in unison:

“Yes.”

A series of soul-stirring murmurs echoed from the black mist. After a long time, it slowly said:

“To cope with the great changes of the future, we must obtain what is on Yadel. I hope everything goes smoothly!”

…

In a similarly distant and untraceable valley, an ancient castle shrouded in moss and mysterious aura stood quietly.

Like a reef in the river of time, it had remained motionless for ten thousand years.

It seemed to be facing the Black Tomb's castle from afar.

The castle's architectural style blended classical and modern elements. The main building was made of solid stone, covered with lush ivy.

The magnificent gate shimmered with strange light, the faint glow of magic flickering.

Above the main entrance, a huge plaque engraved with "Cobalt Soul Academy" was faintly visible in the valley mist.

Deep within the academy, Headmaster Professor Dumbledore lay on an ordinary rocking chair, basking comfortably in the sun. Opposite him stood a middle-aged man wearing thin-rimmed glasses with extremely ordinary features.

Galileo Galilei, the Headmaster of the Northwest Branch of the Cobalt Soul Academy.

Galileo said in a low voice:

“That little guy sent me a letter, asking me to fulfill the promise I made back then.”

Back in the Lost Land, Galileo wanted to know the specific situation and exact time of the changes in the God Realm from Cohen.

He promised to help him once, provided it did not violate his principles, and after some haggling, he agreed to send an additional one hundred "Special Grade" monastery guards to help him.

A trace of realization appeared in Professor Dumbledore's eyes, and he said in a low voice:

“'Lord of Shadows,' is that what he's called?

The little guy who made the prediction of the changes in the God Realm?”

Galileo nodded with a heavy expression:

“It's him. He also predicted that this major change would even involve the gods… that there would even be a god who falls!”

Involuntarily, Galileo's ears echoed with the terrifying scene of the future that Cohen had described at that time:

The undead believers lose the ability to chant undead spells!

The Lich clan loses the favor of eternal life!

The complete silence of Visha Lun, the boasting one, the Great Necromantic Harmonious Mage, the King of Abandoned Tombs!

A hint of playfulness appeared in Dumbledore's eyes:

“He wants you to go to Florence at this time, presumably to help Effiein survive the siege of the two great empires and the Black Tomb!”

Dumbledore's casual remark had already pointed out Effiein's current situation.

The Cobalt Soul Academy, this behemoth that forever transcends the outside world, its intelligence and predictive abilities are equally formidable.

Galileo nodded slowly:

“Almost. That kid is really daring to get involved. I don't even know if he knows what kind of opponents he's going to face!

Just thinking about it makes my scalp tingle. What kind of people has this Effiein offended that she would attract a siege from two major human empires plus a kingdom and a pan-continental underground organization?”

A stern look appeared in Dumbledore's eyes:

“Others may not know, but I am clear about those old guys in the Black Tomb. Effiein must have something they must obtain.

I speculate that this item is most likely in the hands of Queen Effiein, Adair Angraean, who is about to become the youngest legendary figure in human history.

Everything Effiein is currently experiencing stems from her!"

Galileo looked enlightened, then asked:

"Should I still go?

Our academy's consistent principle is to not participate in any disputes between human nations, but only to preserve the flame of civilization for humanity and nurture the seeds of civilization.

If I were to get involved, our Cobalt Soul Academy might lose its detached, neutral status."

Dumbledore shook his head and said:

"If humanity is gone, what are we preserving?"

Galileo looked at Dumbledore in surprise, wondering why the Headmaster would suddenly say such pessimistic words.

Dumbledore said calmly:

"Do you think that the fall of the Lich God Vissarun, which that kid foresaw, is just the final result of the future changes?

Hearing Dumbledore's words, Galileo quickly realized something, his eyes instantly filled with astonishment. Dumbledore slowly said:

"I believe that is not the end, but the beginning!

The fall of a High God is the beginning of this great change!

What do you think is the probability of human civilization surviving?

Does our Cobalt Soul Academy still want to stand by and watch coldly?"

Galileo immediately understood. Yes, if the situation was as severe as Headmaster Dumbledore predicted, their Cobalt Soul Academy would have to get involved.

They needed to select a few seeds capable of saving humanity and reversing the future situation.

Galileo quickly realized something and said:

"So Headmaster, you have chosen this 'Lord of Shadows'?

We don't even know his real identity…"

Galileo stopped halfway through his sentence and immediately said:

"Headmaster, have you already divined the true identity of this 'Lord of Shadows'?"

Dumbledore gently shook his head and smiled:

"No, it wasn't divined, but guessed.

Originally, there was probably a 50-60% chance, but now that he has sent you this message and asked you to go to Effiein to help him, the probability should be 80-90%."

Galileo frowned tightly, looked at the information Cohen sent over, studied it for a long time, and still shook his head:

"I don't quite understand."

Dumbledore said with a smile:

"Galileo, sometimes you should go out and wander around more. Dealing with books in the library all the time easily makes you lose touch with human emotions.

You have overlooked the most important point… human feelings!

Do you think that with the 'Lord of Shadows' abilities and skills, he couldn't guess what he would face after returning to Effiein?

If he couldn't guess, he wouldn't have forced you to make that kind of promise at that time.

He knows, even knows earlier than us, and knows more clearly.

A person who knows what desperate situation Effiein is about to face, yet resolutely returns to Effiein and chooses to help Queen Effiein, what do you think this is for?

Beauty?

The Lord of Shadows already possesses the Golden Winged Woman, who is no less beautiful than Queen Effiein. Why would he risk his life to return to Effiein and please a married woman?

Is he really that lecherous?

Also, would the Golden Winged Woman be so generous as to allow her man to risk his life to save another woman?

The only reason that can force someone who can summon gods to make this choice is this!

He is the King of Effiein, Cohen Corleone!

He is going back not for anything else, but to save his country and save his queen!"

Galileo was suddenly shocked, looking at Dumbledore in disbelief, seemingly startled by the other party's speculation, his voice even becoming incoherent:

"But… but how is this possible? Multiple pieces of information show that he was indeed struck by a Saint-level spell from the Black Tomb!

Moreover, the various actions of this Lord of Shadows are simply impossible for someone of that background to accomplish."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with wisdom, his voice low and magnetic:

"This is precisely why I chose him!"

Galileo's eyebrows slowly relaxed, and a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.

Dumbledore leaned back into his recliner and waved his hand:

"Go, try to control the situation and make those people back down.

Now is not the time for the continent to be in chaos."

Galileo bowed deeply and disappeared silently into the academy.

…

Effiein, Southern Battlefield.

Grand Duke Kruger Gant, of the Southern Territory, rode a warhorse with a coat as dark as night, his figure upright, exuding majesty.

He was clad in ornate and heavy armor, the red and black gold "Sword" emblem shining in the sunlight.

The "Sword" emblem represented the family's glory.

Behind Kruger, a mighty army spread out like a torrent of steel, banners fluttering in the wind, emitting a muffled and powerful sound.

Kruger's mobilization was extremely fast. Almost the day after Cliff's death, the entire Southern Territory was ready to start the war.

At dawn on the third day, after joining up with the [Oath of Ceylon] on the border, they marched all the way towards Florence.

They encountered basically no organized resistance along the way.

The army advanced smoothly, and in less than three days, they reached the biggest obstacle between the Southern Territory and central Effiein—the Prism Fortress.

This majestic fortress, equipped with magic cannons, was originally built to defend against possible attacks from the Kingdom of Ceylon, but now it has become the most important line of defense against the rebellion in the Southern Territory.

The army pressed the border, and the Prism Fortress seemed to be shrouded in dark clouds. Kruger reined in his horse, looked up at the tall and majestic military fortress, and a trace of solemnity appeared in his eyes.

He turned his head slightly and looked behind him, towards Andre, the envoy from the Kingdom of Ceylon, standing with his second son, Sandro, and his heart couldn't help but start to beat faster.

This person confidently told him that the Prism Fortress would not cause any hindrance, but when he arrived in front of the fortress, the cold magic cannon at the highest point still made him feel uneasy.

His army couldn't withstand a few attacks from the magic cannon. Did the other party really have so much confidence in conquering this fortress?

Andre seemed to see the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory's hesitation, rode forward, and said with a light smile:

"Your Highness, you should launch an attack. I guarantee that this magic cannon will not cause any casualties to your troops."

The Grand Duke of the Southern Territory took a deep breath. Having reached this point, he could only choose to believe the person in front of him.

He once again harshly reined in his horse. The steed neighed, its front hooves pawing the ground, then he slowly raised his arm. The movement seemed to carry a thousand pounds of force, and a low and powerful voice rang out in the army:

"Level the fortress, and escort the king!"

"Level the fortress, and escort the king!"

The entire army roared in unison, and the sound of military horns shook the sky.

Immediately afterwards, the vanguard began to advance first. The heavy infantrymen marched in orderly and heavy steps, their shields linked together, like a moving fortress.

Behind them stood rows of archers, nocking arrows, drawing their bows, and with the order of their respective commanders, a rain of arrows flew through the air like locusts, drawing black lines towards the fortress.

Soon, a magical blue light shield rose around the fortress, and the rain of arrows rained down on the light shield, making crackling sounds.

The first round of attack was contained, and there was no surprise on the face of the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory.

The Prism Fortress was equipped with many high-level mages, and the protective shield was within their expectations.

As long as their attacks did not stop, these mages would exhaust their magic sooner or later. What excited the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory was that the magic cannon at the highest point remained silent!

This discovery made him feel much more at ease. It seemed that the magic cannon of the Prism Fortress had indeed failed!

The Grand Duke of the Southern Territory was greatly encouraged, waved his hand, and a line of mages in robes appeared behind him.

As the master of a territory, his army was also equipped with mages.

The mages chanted incantations, their hands dancing with light, and magical missiles shot towards the light curtain, accompanied by a continuous rain of arrows in the sky. The protective light shield of the Prism Fortress became even dimmer!