Chapter 789: The Fate of Lanculos

Chapter 789: The Fate of Lanculos

Somerset, the Eighth Progenitor and Marquis, instinctively took half a step back, tensing his muscles. But he found himself locked in the somber gaze of the Third Progenitor, Duke Lachael.

"..."

Duke Lachael, the Third Progenitor, turned his attention back to the Pope.

They were certain that Pope Saint Pecoran should have fallen from the ninth stage and was approaching the end of his short human life.

An elderly Pope at merely the eighth stage, coming alone to Blood Moon City, was undoubtedly seeking death.

Lanculos should have been filled with despair, fighting them to the death, his fragile body shattered, his remains mutilated and displayed as a warning to others, revealing the futility of their sacrifices, and ending his incompetent life in utter despair.

He shouldn't and couldn't still be in his prime, far surpassing his state from four years ago! This was completely contrary to Marquis Herity's divination.

"Your Holiness, is there some misunderstanding between us?"

Duke Lachael, the Third Progenitor, directed his gaze toward the distant Pope, his youthful voice now solemn as he questioned him.

"Are you seeking reconciliation?"

Lanci asked, astonished.

"Of course."

The Third Progenitor, Duke Lachael, nodded sincerely.

Herity's divination couldn't be wrong. The fact that the Pope had survived this long was already a miracle, and his impending death was an unchangeable fact. In just a few days' time, the Pope would surely be laid to rest.

Three years ago, when they had created the illusion of peace and reached a compromise, the Pope hadn't been this strong. He hadn't been able to breach Blood Moon City at all.

Over the past few years, to prevent the Pope from causing them trouble or seeking revenge, they had always been preparing for the worst.

Now, there was no reason to engage in a direct confrontation with this individual.

"Are you joking?"

Even Lanci was amused by the Third Progenitor's suggestion.

It was a bit of an insult to his intelligence.

To ask him to cease hostilities once more and wait for his death before revealing their true intentions—it was too far-fetched.

"I still prefer your unruly attitudes."

The Pope, clad in white, commented on Duke Lachael, the Third Progenitor.

"Your Holiness, there's no need to be so aggressive. We have been abiding by the Oberon Convention. It is you who wishes to shatter the hard-earned peace and become a sinner through the ages, rendering the sacrifices of your friends meaningless," Marquis Somerset, the Eighth Progenitor, chastised, pointing at Lanci.

"Now I understand why Torriado specifically targeted you."

Rather than becoming angry, Lanci sighed with relief.

He recalled the incident at the Brilarda Opera House, where he had been on the second floor, and wondered why Bishop Torriado of the Dimensional Realm had chosen Somerset as his opponent, knowing full well that he was a difficult opponent and a martial artist of the blood clan.

Now it seemed that Somerset indeed met Torriado's criteria for entertainment.

If Somerset had somehow offended or angered Torriado, a powerful demon general, after being unsealed for tens of thousands of years, then Torriado would surely teach Somerset a lesson in what it meant for evil to beget evil.

"Who is Torriado?"

Somerset frowned in confusion, finding the Pope's words baffling.

"You'll know in a few tens of thousands of years."

Lanci replied with a light laugh, his face still hidden behind his mask.

"Tens of thousands of years..."

This wasn't said in jest, and a trace of bewilderment flashed through the eyes of Marquis Herity, the Seventh Progenitor.

"Your Holiness, which timeline are you currently in?"

Herity, as a blood clan astrologer with a natural sensitivity to timelines, akin to the demon observer Pranay, felt as if she had discovered something terrifying, and she questioned the Pope.

"Take a guess."

Lanci was aware of Herity's unique abilities.

"Is this reality... or a future that you've observed? But if you're from the past, how could you possibly know about the future tens of thousands of years from now..."

The more Marquis Herity, the Seventh Progenitor, thought about it, the more astonished and enraged she became.

"Consider it a prank if you will."

Lanci shrugged nonchalantly.

"Lanci, you've muddled her mind," Talia laughed as she watched the battle unfold.

She realized that for an astrologer, the greatest fear was having their sense of time distorted.

There was no way Herity could fathom that, for their enemies, this was the future of the past.

"Your Holiness, have you used the Immortal Ever-Punishment on yourself?"

Although Herity couldn't comprehend what was happening, one thing was certain—her blood-colored irises were filled with anger.

The Pope's decisiveness in attacking, his air of knowing everything, and his willingness to use the Immortal Ever-Punishment on himself, maintaining his state at all costs, regardless of the consequences, must have been due to something he had seen!

"Yes."

Lanci's hand moved to his face, and he shifted his mask to the side, revealing the pitch-black brand on his left cheek, resembling a crawling centipede.

"So don't expect me to weaken or for you to be able to escape."

He stated this matter-of-factly, providing them with the answer.

The silver-white mask, partially concealing his face, the black centipede with its mocking eyelids, and the emerald eyes radiating a chilling light—all of this caused the three progenitors to feel a sense of dread.

"You madman..."

They had never encountered such a bewitching Pope Saint Pecoran.

He seemed to have completely lost himself to madness.

"Demons, always demons! It must be that damn Kaliエラ who left behind some demon treasure that allowed you to divine the future!"

Duke Lachael, the Third Progenitor, shouted in frustration,

"Lanculos... Must you stand in our way like this, even in death?"

The Third Progenitor finally revealed the malevolence in his eyes, understanding that today's battle against Pope Saint Pecoran would be a fierce one, as his blood-red magical power surged.

The most terrifying aspect of the Immortal Ever-Punishment magic wasn't using it on others but on oneself.

No one knew what negative effects this indelible curse would have when used on oneself.

Perhaps he would suffer the punishment of an immortal soul trapped in a rotting body, enduring endless torment for all eternity.

Even so, Pope Saint Pecoran was determined to take them with him to the grave.

"You won't chase after me. You will only hunt down those who are unarmed. I must block your path, and I will forever stand in your way."

Lanci returned his hand to his back, and circles of lightning spread from beneath his feet, rippling across the stone slabs until the entire Blood Moon City was illuminated by a dazzling light.

His eyes were like the coldest winter lake, piercing through his opponents with a sharp, electric glare.

In that moment, the heavens roared with a thunderous cascade.

A white-hot tempest, akin to a silkworm devouring a whale, swept across Blood Moon City, engulfing everything in its path!

"Ahhhhh!!!""

Amid the pure lightning that cleansed all impurities, the three Progenitors let out wails akin to evil spirits.

"Don't underestimate us by using lightning magic, which isn't your forte!"

Among the three Progenitors, only he could barely move within the all-encompassing fusion spell of light and lightning.

Duke Lachael took the initiative and launched an attack.

Blood-red magic power surged around him, and his eyes turned pitch-black, resembling two bottomless dark pits.

Countless tendrils of dark red spiritual power extended from his body at incredible speed, enveloping the entire battlefield like a thorny forest.

"No matter how firm your will is, it's but dust in the wind before my spiritual magic!"

Lachael sneered, controlling those tendrils as they rushed towards Lanci,

"Don't forget, your mind still bears the mental scars I inflicted."

This weak human's mental fortitude had already been shattered. Any semblance of steadfastness was merely an illusion, a result of the feeble Lanculos' lonely journey into the future!

"Is that so?"

However, when the tendrils made contact with Lanci, they seemed to hit an invisible wall, shattering instantly and dissipating into specks of scarlet light in the air.

Lachael's eyes widened in disbelief as his pride and joy, his spiritual magic, proved utterly ineffective.

He was a million percent certain that this man was Lanculos, bearing the mental scars he had inflicted.

After all, they were the marks of a 9th-tier epic spell.

How could he ignore them?

"Are you truly Lanculos?! You possess his power and memories, yet your mind is unblemished. Who are you?!"

Lachael shouted.

"I am the one who will listen to your cries."

Lanci remained calm, as if nothing had happened.

He raised his right hand, and a lightning bolt as bright as day erupted from his palm, carrying the might of a thousand junctures and striking Lachael directly.

Lachael hastily summoned a blood-red magic barrier in an attempt to withstand the deadly blow, but where the lightning passed, the barrier crumbled like paper, and the lightning struck Lachael in the chest, sending his slender figure flying and smashing a huge pit into the Blood King's Palace wall.

"Are you really... human...?"

Lachael struggled to get up from the rubble, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

He never expected Pope Saint Pecoran to be so terrifying, not just in strength but also in his mental fortitude.

It was as if he had transcended the bitterness and tribulations of life, learning to savor the bitter with the sweet, awakening to all that was captivating, eradicating the last vestiges of darkness from his heart, using pain to accentuate joy, and letting evil highlight the residual sweetness. He had attained great enlightenment and understood the human world!

"Don't underestimate humans. This is the human that your blood clan brought forth in the Blood Moon Calamity, and now it's your turn to face the consequences."

Lanci stared at the three progenitors before him, a slight upward curl to his lips, exuding a confidence that chilled the progenitors to the bone.

"I refuse to accept this! Humans cannot defy us! It is their destiny!!!"

Lachael roared, once again summoning a myriad of blood-red tendrils that swarmed like the arms of demons, twisting and coiling as they aimed to entangle Lanci's limbs. Simultaneously, countless streams of dark red spiritual attacks followed in quick succession.

But Lanci merely waved his hand, and the tempest parted before him, blocking all assaults.

When the tendrils touched the wind blades, they sizzled like they had met a blazing fire, bursting into pieces.

Lachael's spiritual attacks were also scattered, failing miserably, and instead, Lachael himself suffered a heavy blow, blood continuously flowing from his mouth.

Taking advantage of this gap, the Eighth Progenitor, Somerset, roared and charged forward.

His muscles bulged, as hard as poured steel.

"Pope, dare you take my fist head-on?!"

Each of his punches contained the power to destroy the heavens and the earth, and the wind from his fists was biting cold, shredding the surrounding air into pieces.

Even though the Pope was 9th-tier and could inflict doubled damage on their blood clan, his physical body couldn't withstand Somerset's fist and emerge unscathed!

Facing this ferocious beast, Lanci seemed at ease.

He nimbly dodged Somerset's attacks, his movements light and graceful, as if he were dancing.

Somerset's fists continuously struck the air, sending dust flying, but Lanci remained untouched, not a speck of dust settling on his clothes.

"All you know is ambush."

Lanci said with a smile as he dodged.

Seizing the opportunity, he slashed with a wind blade from his hand towards Somerset's right arm as the latter threw another punch.

There was a crisp "crack" as Somerset's right arm was cleanly severed at the shoulder, blood gushing out.

"Ahhhh!!!""

Somerset let out a painful cry and retreated in shock.

He stared at his severed right arm in disbelief, his face a mask of shock and fear.

Before he could create any distance, the ghostly figure in the white-robed mask, holding a silver-white serrated light wheel, slashed down towards his neck.

In just a few breaths, Somerset's body was divided into several large pieces.

Seeing two of the progenitors defeated in quick succession, the Seventh Progenitor, Herity, knew something was amiss.

She quickly provided healing support to the two progenitors and attempted to predict Lanci's next move.

Countless stars twinkled in her eyes, outlining intricate timelines.

"Somerset, hold on a little longer! Lachael, get out of the way, his target is you!"

Herity used the invisible magical connection of link magic to guide Lachael and Somerset's actions.

With her predictions, the duo's offense finally became less monotonous, and they started to seize opportunities.

However, it seemed that Lanci had seen through it all.

He always reacted one step ahead, appearing in places Herity didn't expect, even smiling and glancing at her.

Gradually, Herity's thoughts became more and more chaotic, and her predictions, instead of helping her companions, repeatedly pushed them into dangerous situations.

"How...how can you?!"

Herity's eyes widened in disbelief. As the most talented astrologer among the blood clan, her predictions had never failed, yet today, Lanci had seen through her with ease, shattering her perception.

Even if he had used some special method to divine their blood clan's strategy, he himself did not possess the talent or ability to continually counter her predictions in battle.

"Don't understand?"

Lanci chuckled and waved his hand, releasing a series of rock spikes that pinned Somerset firmly to the ground, immobilizing him.

He then instantly appeared beside Lachael, stepping on his back as if it were an air seat, casually sitting on him.

"As long as I fight chaotically myself, you won't be able to predict my next move."

Lanci constantly changed his intentions.

Whenever there were several possibilities for an attack, he would assign randomness to each option and choose at will.

"Don't go too far!"

The third progenitor, Lachael, roared furiously, but he couldn't move the mountain-like weight of the Pope on his back.

Never had an enemy dared to treat them with such contempt in battle!

"Let go of Lachael!"

The eighth progenitor, Marquis Somerset, shouted in rage as he recovered his body.

His eyes turned crimson, and his muscles swelled to their limits, resembling a rabid beast.

He raised his left fist and threw a punch at Lanci. The force of the punch caused the air to shatter, and the heavens trembled.

Lanci remained calm.

He nimbly sidestepped the brute force attack and then placed his hand on Somerset's arm, his other hand shooting up to tap Somerset's brow. A blindingly pure light surged from his fingertip, inundating Somerset's body.

Somerset let out a piercing scream as he felt his blood being purified.

"Somerset, get back!"

Lachael exerted all his strength to manipulate his magic, forming a massive blood-red magic mirror in front of him.

The mirror reflected Lanci's figure, but with a subtle difference.

The Lanci in the mirror had hollow eyes, a deathly pale face, and was enveloped in an ominous aura.

"Look!" Lachael snarled, "You, Pope, are righteous on the surface, but your heart is filled with endless darkness. You are no different from us!"

If the Pope lost focus, the black Pope in the mirror would come to life and become Lachael's summon.

Lanci merely gazed at the mirror, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Lachael," he said softly as the wind blew, lifting his silver-white hair, "You can only say that the side you see is black, but you can't prove that the side you don't see isn't pure white. What if there's a black and white goat in this world?"

He raised his hand, and the illusion in the mirror shattered into specks of light.

The real Lanci stood there, surrounded by a soft and bright halo.

He was like the pure and unblemished spring sunshine.

Lachael stared, incredulous, as his prideful countermeasure was easily crushed.

They fought desperately.

But their opponent seemed to be toying with them.

Lachael roared in anger, summoning countless blood-red tendrils to tear Lanci to shreds.

Lanci casually waved his hand, and the shining arc of light severed all the tendrils.

He advanced on Lachael, each step causing the ground to tremble.

Lachael's magic was as fragile as a paper castle in front of him, crumbling instantly.

Lanci extended his right hand and placed it on Lachael's forehead.

His palm glowed with a scorching white light.

"Ahhh..."

Lachael screamed in agony, feeling as if countless needles were piercing his brain, his soul burning.

Somerset lunged forward, using every means at his disposal, but Lanci's figure was like an impenetrable silver-white barrier, deflecting all attacks.

"Somerset, fall back! Watch out for his lightning attacks!"

Herity manipulated the starlight, shouting through the blood clan's unique communication channel.

But her warnings were always a step too late.

Before Lachael could move and Somerset could react, they were struck by Lanci's attacks.

Somerset was pierced by a series of rock spikes, and Lachael was hit by a thunderous electric shock in the chest.

"I've been dealing with a mind-reading old lady in my heart 24 hours a day. It would be strange if your divination could be of any use against me."

Lanci pressed his advantage, his palm gathering dazzling white light as he swiped towards the progenitors.

A giant light blade spanning the battlefield suddenly formed, and blood, severed limbs, and cries of pain filled the air.

The third progenitor, Duke Lachael, the eighth progenitor, Marquis Somerset, and the seventh progenitor, Marquis Herity, were unable to dodge and had their bodies sliced by the light blade.

Seeing her companions fall one after the other, Herity finally panicked.

She frantically burned her power, searching for a critical point in the timeline that could reverse the situation, but every line led to the same chaotic and unclear outcome.

She knelt on the ground in despair, the starlight shattering before her, no longer able to guide her.

"Why...can't we win..."

Herity trembled, her voice shaking.

Lanci stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at the wounded progenitors.

"I said I would always stand in your way and prevent your Blood Moon Calamity."

He spoke calmly, his tone flat.

He extended his hand, and pitch-black pillars rose from the ground, forming an unbreakable cage.

The three progenitors struggled to escape, but an invisible force bound them, immobilizing them.

"It's time to reveal the answer to those who don't understand the meaning of eternity."

Lanci no longer toyed with them using elemental magic but instead used his sealing techniques, [Immortal Ever-Punishment] and [Embedded Command].

"This cage is formed by my will and will last for at least tens of thousands of years. Don't even think about taking half a step out of here. Stay and atone for your sins until the day we meet again."

"No!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the stone pillar slowly sank into the ground, taking the Seventh Progenitor, Marquis Herity, and the Eighth Progenitor, Marquis Somerset, with it into the endless abyss.

Only the strongest among them, the Third Progenitor, Lachael, remained, still defiant.

"I am the Third Progenitor, second only to the True King and the Prince! Sealing me away won't be that easy!"

Duke Lachael, the Third Progenitor, desperately held on to the interlocking rock pillar, struggling against it with all his might, his eyes filled with resentment.

"If it weren't for that damn True King abandoning us, how could we have lost to you?"

Anguish filled Lachael's red eyes.

"So, you're just discarded failures, then?"

Lanci asked curiously, staring at the slowly closing stone pillar and the trapped Lachael.

"No!!!"

Lachael shouted hoarsely.

The invisible force dragged Lachael into the interlocking stone pillars, but he did not give up. He exerted all his strength to resist, his eyes bloodshot, veins popping out, and foam forming at the corners of his mouth.

"See you in a few tens of thousands of years, Lachael."

With Lanci's magic pushing against it, the interlocking stone pillar made a dull sound, like the closing of a confessional room door, as the gap slowly closed, obscuring Lachael from Lanci's sight.

"Lanculos, do you really think you've won?! Do you think we didn't prepare anything?!"

Lachael shouted hoarsely, his voice filled with madness.

"Do you think everything will end just because you've sealed us away?!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a chilling laughter echoed through the air.

The laughter reverberated in the ruins of the Blood King's Palace, as if it would tear the very space of Blood Moon City apart.

Lanci furrowed his brows but didn't take it too seriously.

He turned and continued to seal the Third Progenitor, Lachael, before walking away, intending to put an end to the Blood Moon Calamity once and for all. However, he heard Lachael's next words.

"The Honing Empire is already doomed! All the citizens in the south have been infected by the Second Progenitor's blood poison, and I've been suppressing their transformation. Once I'm sealed away, the people of Honing will all turn into demons, and the Northern lands of the Saint Pecoran Papal State will also be affected!"

Lachael finished his sentence with a crazed laugh, unmindful of the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

Over the years, they had prepared for the destruction of the Saint Pecoran Theocracy, and the people of the Honing Empire could be buried along with it. Later, they could slowly cultivate more obedient sheep.

It was indeed a good thing that the Honing Empire's experimental technology had been improved by the blood clan over the years. Unknowingly, the people of Honing had ingested large amounts of demon toxin in their daily lives.

All it would take to turn them into demons was a slight reduction in mental suppression!

"Ahahahaha! Hahaha! Who would've thought that the Honing Empire's self-rescue measure against us, the blood clan, would become our trump card for destroying the Honing Empire!"

The piercing laughter echoed across the Blood King's Palace square.

Lanci paused in his steps.

He turned, and a barely perceptible flicker of uncertainty passed through his emerald eyes.

But soon, his eyes regained their determination.

"Lanculos, what are you going to do now?! Will you stand by and watch the world perish, or will you try to stop it, only to have your identity as a demon exposed, and be remembered by future survivors as the true instigator of this calamity...?"

As the interlocking rock pillar completely sealed Lachael away, his voice also disappeared from the Blood King's Palace.

At the same time, the ground began to shake violently, causing Lanci to steady himself as he looked up at the sky.

He felt that above Blood Moon City, the lands of the Honing Empire were filled with turbid energy, with demons dancing wildly, the earth roaring, and blood staining everything.

Although it had been daytime earlier, it now seemed as if an eclipse had begun, with oppressive miasma covering the entire Honing Empire.

Lanci looked up, his gaze piercing through the distance, and saw that the sky was shrouded in shades of gray and blood red. A lifeless sun hung weakly in the sky, devoid of warmth and light.

The earth trembled and cracked, and spiderweb-like fissures spread across the land.

The Saint Trick architectural complex collapsed, turning into ruins.

The cries and pleas for help from the people rose and fell, soon to be drowned out by even more terrifying sounds.

Groups of residents twisted and transformed into hideous demons in their agony and confusion, having lost their humanity and sanity, leaving only a desire to shed blood and destroy.

More people hadn't even begun to remember their transformation into violent demons before they were trampled and torn apart in the chaos.

In the Honing Empire, everyone became a demon.

Wherever they passed, forests were devoured in an instant, rivers were diverted, hills were flattened, and cities crumbled like cardboard before them. Churches were easily crushed, and building debris rained down like hail.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of blood and flesh, and what was once a prosperous city had now become a wasteland of death and hell, with the entire nation enveloped in darkness.

"Lanci, what should we do?"

Talia's heart raced as she asked anxiously.

She had figured out the cause and effect of the Honing Empire in the previous simulation and this one.

Once they transformed into raging failed demon mutants, their lives would burn out, and their combat power would increase exponentially! The North would never be able to withstand this tidal wave of demonic annihilation!

Sealing away the Third Progenitor, Lachael, had only led to another terrible outcome.

"..."

Lanci stood on the underground ruins, looking up at the sky, his face expressionless.

But his fists clenched tighter and tighter.

Lanci stared into the distance, a gleam in his emerald eyes, and for a moment, he saw a glimpse of the future—a beautiful world where the blood clan's tyranny no longer existed and humans lived in peace and prosperity.

This must have been the future that Lanculos saw the second time he used the Tebiriuss Mirror.

"Even a chosen throne needs someone to sit on it calmly."

He muttered to himself, his voice as steadfast as a rock.

It seemed that he had finally understood.

【This is—】

【Lanculos' destiny.】

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end