Volume 6, Chapter 87 – A Smile — Sometimes, Quite Terrifying

“Ah — it’s over.”

The civil official stared at the reconnaissance report in his hands, barely able to contain himself. He clutched the papers tight, hands trembling, voice quivering with barely suppressed excitement:

“Lord Xi Xuan! This is extraordinary news! With the Trinity of Malevolence dead, the Corrupted Beasts that threatened humanity are all wiped out, the miasma has cleared — this crisis that’s lasted a thousand years is finally over !”

He grew more animated with every word, even raising his hands to gesture:

“Ha ha ha! We never have to worry about the Malevolences invading again, never have to send our soldiers bleeding into battle — humanity can finally live in peace! We can pour everything into development, rebuild our homes, and even… those territories ! Don’t we have so much more living space now?!”

And yet, in sharp contrast to the official’s elation, Xi Xuan sat in silence beside him. He leaned back in his chair, fingertips tapping slowly against the desk in a dull rhythm. He looked at the man overflowing with joy before him, and there was not a trace of a smile on his face — only an expression that grew heavier by the moment.

He waited for the official to finish before speaking, his voice low and deliberate:

“Crisis over? Are we truly… at peace?”

At those words, the smile on the official’s face stiffened:

“Lord Xi Xuan? What do you mean by…”

“The Malevolences may be dead — but the three great territories they’ve left behind are not simply unclaimed wasteland.”

Xi Xuan rose from his seat and walked to the window, his gaze drifting toward the brightly lit cityscape in the distance:

“The Veiled Domain’s natural resources and Shenluo’s legacy, the deep-sea mineral deposits of the Abyssal Sea, the mana stones remaining on Cinderfloat Isle… all of these are temptations powerful enough to drive any nation to madness. Before, no one dared act out of turn because the Malevolences still resided there. But now? Heh…”

He turned, eyes sharp as a blade:

“The reason the human nations have maintained their surface peace across these thousand years is simply because the Trinity of Malevolence served as a common enemy. Now that the threat is gone, every ambition they’ve kept buried will come fully to light. In the scramble for control over those three territories, the alliances between nations will fracture quickly — and may very well spark new wars.”

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The official froze. The excitement drained from his face, replaced by a creeping unease:

“But… but we’re the Covenant — we were fighting side by side just now… surely it won’t come to that?”

“Surely not?” Xi Xuan gave a cold, tired laugh.

“We are not a species that loves peace. War has never stopped throughout history — against Corrupted Beasts, against alien races, against each other. Now that the common enemy is gone, with limitless resources and vast territory on the table — the Covenant? Heh. That’s finished. Peace? It won’t last long.”

The words fell into the room like stones into still water. The air went rigid. The official opened his mouth, then closed it again — unable to find a single word of rebuttal. Xi Xuan’s assessment hit like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing every last flicker of his jubilation and leaving nothing behind but deep, hollow dread.

Xi Xuan turned quietly toward the world map hanging on the wall.

“At least… let it last a little while.”

Not far from the Presidential Residence, in one of Clavino’s capital guest buildings, a lamp glowed — casting light over a room that was lavish yet oppressive.

Pope Pejieer of the Divine Faith sat upright in a chair draped with deep crimson velvet, clothed in black ecclesiastical robes embroidered with golden crosses, the gemstone rings on his fingers glinting in the firelight.

He held in his hands a reconnaissance report identical to the one in the Presidential Residence.

Paradise Manor — which had once propped up the Divine Faith — had been destroyed, causing the Faith’s standing to plummet sharply. Even so, a dying camel is still larger than a horse; weakened as they were, the Divine Faith’s intelligence network within the Covenant continued to function smoothly.

Obtaining a copy of the same report Xi Xuan held had presented no difficulty whatsoever.

As he read through the contents, not a ripple crossed Pejieer’s aged face — but deep in his eyes, a hungry gleam stirred.

“So my earlier assessment was correct. The Trinity of Malevolence clashed at Wishaven… and destroyed one another in the end. Heh heh.”

The Pope murmured quietly, a barely perceptible curve forming at the corner of his mouth. “Three plagues eliminated at once — truly welcome news. The Lord has looked upon us with favor after all.”

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A servant at his side bowed and offered agreement: “Your Holiness, the Veiled Domain, the Abyssal Sea, Cinderfloat Isle — all three are now unclaimed territory. The miasma has cleared, the Corrupted Beasts are annihilated. The moment to move in could not be more ideal.”

“Indeed.”

Pejieer let out a soft chuckle, his fingertip tracing idle circles over his ring:

“Those three locations are treasure troves. The legacies of the three great alien races, the legacy of the Shenluo Empire… heh heh.”

His voice dropped lower, greed unmasked:

“With those resources and that inheritance, the Divine Faith can seize the right to dictate to the human world. We need never bow to anyone’s preferences again.”

The earlier operations to capture evil god contractors, combined with the massive offensives launched by the Vassals of Sky and Sea, had dealt the Westivian Covenant and other powers enormous losses.

The Divine Kingdom, by virtue of its geographic position, had been largely spared from the Malevolences’ direct onslaught.

They had, without question, preserved the strongest capabilities of the Five Kingdoms. And now was precisely the moment to deploy that strength.

Thinking this, Pejieer allowed himself a slow, savoring smile. Then he lifted his gaze, letting it settle on a figure standing in the corner of the room — a man clothed in a silver-white Sacred Warrior’s uniform, violet hair cascading like a waterfall over his shoulders, his face stern and composed, a faint ripple of spiritual power emanating quietly from his form. He was one of the Divine Faith’s most formidable Sacred Warriors.

Although the Abyssal Lord’s assault had cost the Divine Faith a considerable number of Sacred Warriors, their deep reserves had preserved six or seven at the Divine Departure Realm.

In the past, this might not have amounted to much. But with every major power now crippled, this force was nothing short of terrifying.

“Ziyuan,” Pejieer spoke, his tone carrying the weight of an incontestable command:

“Arrange troops as swiftly as possible and send them first to the Veiled Domain. Locate Visas — the old Shenluo capital — and secure it. If anyone gets in the way, remove them. We must hold Visas in our hands. Is that understood?”

The violet-haired Sacred Warrior stepped forward one measured pace, inclining his head, voice low and graveled:

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“As you command, Your Holiness.”

His bearing was respectful, elegant. Pejieer looked on with considerable satisfaction.

But just as the Pope gave his approving nod in return, his brow abruptly twitched.

Because in that single instant, he caught it — a strange expression crossing the Sacred Warrior’s face.

A peculiar smile.

Cold. Twisted. Entirely at odds with the man’s identity as a Sacred Warrior — and radiating a chill that made the hair on Pejieer’s neck stand straight.

His entire body gave an involuntary shudder.

… What. What on earth was that.

“Your Holiness? Is something the matter?”

The attendant nearby asked in puzzlement.

“It’s… him, I… hm?”

Pejieer had barely begun to point out Ziyuan’s expression when he found — where had it gone? That unsettling smile had vanished without a trace.

He stared hard at Ziyuan’s face, searching for any remnant of that brief, wrong-footing strangeness. What met his eyes was the same stern, still countenance as always — calm gaze, nothing out of place.

“What is it, my lord?”

At the attendant’s words, Ziyuan also raised his head, meeting Pejieer’s gaze with an open, unconcerned expression, as though the eerie smile had never existed at all.

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Pejieer studied him for a long moment. Found nothing.

… Hm.

I’ve been pushing myself too hard lately.

Must have seen wrong.

He waved a hand, reasserting his authority of tone: “Nothing. Go — make certain this is handled properly. The future of our Faith depends on it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Ziyuan inclined his head once more, turned, and walked toward the door.

As it quietly fell shut behind him, silence returned to the room. Pope Pejieer took up his various reports again, the hunger in his eyes deeper than before — already beginning, perhaps, to envision the era that awaited him once those resources and that technology were firmly in hand.

“The only one who might merit attention… is her, I suppose. That one who claims to be the Alabaster Sovereign’s daughter.”

He looked at the photograph of the silver-haired young woman on the screen, eyes narrowing in slow contemplation.

What he did not know — as he sat there thinking — was that at that very moment, the attendant pouring his tea beside him had let the corner of his mouth curl.

Into a smile quite unlike any a servant ought to wear.

Dark. Quiet.

And deeply, deeply wrong.