City of Sin

A Glimpse Of The Truth

Richard spent the next few days visiting the library whenever he was free, putting his focus on absorbing the knowledge within those books. After reading all he could about the primal celestials, he spent time trying to decipher that ancient language. He quickly realised that they were a fusion of chaos and order, unlike anything he had seen before.

As with all the other planes under the Eternal Dragon’s control, the divine tongue of Norland was an embodiment of order. Richard had learnt some bits of chaotic tongue from the power of his truename and the blue moon as well, but this celestial tongue seemed to pursue a perfect balance of the two. He quickly realised that this stonelord had to be key to Sharon’s growth, which was what drew her to such danger. Its strange physique would pose no problem to someone whose energy was from the stars and could assimilate all others.

Praton had used this news as bait to lure Sharon out, but the question now was this: who had given him that parchment?

An answer he dreaded came up in his mind. Richard sat down and closed his eyes, going through every single mark on that paper that was now etched into his soul. Those twisted lines had no order to them, but wasn’t that the point of chaos?

As those countless lines danced wildly in his mind, he found himself quickly easing into the analysis. This was his first attempt at deciphering chaos, but he relaxed and threw himself into the task. Slowly but surely, a new image was formed amidst those countless lines, one of slender hands clenched into fists as they punched forward. Power surged through the arms, lacerating space as they crashed into their target. A faint purple trace was left behind as the force travelled a thousand metres, heading for a beautiful and petite figure that hid earth-shattering might. That figure was one carved right into his aching heart, related to the most beautiful of his memories.

Richard’s eyes flashed open, lightning crashing into his surroundings as he confirmed his fears. However, that liquid rage was quickly bottled up within himself, starting to bubble underneath cold rationality as he stood up with one question on his mind; just how far was he from becoming an epic being?

Without a question, he was the king of this generation. His achievements were unparalleled, with only the mysterious Saint Martin perhaps even coming close to posing a threat, but Empress Apeiron was a prodigy amongst geniuses in the past. Even Philip and Ferlyn had needed to join hands to defeat her, and her understanding of combat had reached a peak that no one else could match. Sharon could suppress her using sheer talent and bodily power, but he couldn’t do the same.

Apeiron finally stood completely in his way for the first time, and there was no way to move around her. He would not kiss her boots once more, so he had to bridge the gap. For that, he would have to feign calmness until he was ready.

......

After causing a huge storm in Norland, the Archerons seemed to disappear entirely. Praton’s bloodline had been uprooted almost completely, with basically everyone still in Norland dead. While there were inevitably a few distant relatives still alive, their blood was too thin to capture Richard’s attention. He withdrew all of his troops, scattering his most powerful subordinates into his various planes. Outside of the huge bounty for the Scholars, the Archerons seemed to be done.

Everything continued as normal. The Archerons continued with their next list, releasing the sixth piece of Midren, while Mana Armament was shelved until someone had the requisite points. Powerhouses continued to rush towards Faelor to take part in the battles against the dragons and demons, a large number of artisans and mages drawn in as well to join the huge workshops established by the Archerons. Dragons and demons were constantly being turned into points, allowing the strong to grow. While some unlucky ones fell in battle, more and more were surging in to join the front.

In short, everything suddenly returned to normal. The only difference was that Praton’s bloodline was now missing from Norland.

Amidst relieved sighs, many nobles wondered just what Richard’s motivations were. A large number soon came to the conclusion that he was stalling for time; after all, many other families were starting to emulate the reward point system, and would catch up with him sooner or later. As for the reason for the absolute upheaval for those few weeks, they believed it was out of anxiety.

Indeed, anxiety. The Archerons had just lost their epic backer, which left their position unstable. Perhaps Richard would take up that mantle in the future, but one could never be sure. There were sky saints who failed to become legends, and talented legends who never made it past that line.

Unlike the legendary realm, becoming epic wasn’t simply one thing. One could nominally be considered epic if they reached level 27, but that wasn’t the basis of the system. The true test was the ability to preserve one’s life and escape from the clutches of an archlord, alongside the mastery of powerful laws to fuel combat. This could be higher-level laws in a primary plane or the foundational laws of a secondary realm, but what was important was the power.

The independence the Archerons craved needed the backing of an epic being, and Richard’s initial frenzy had been judged as a proclamation that he could match up. However, nobles were fond of conspiracies, and they were starting to get reckless. They felt like Richard’s constant shows of power were just a way to distract from the truth.

......

While all these rumours continued to spread, a haggard Richard eventually returned to Norland in silence. His entire body seemed to radiate fatigue, but moments after reaching Blackrose Castle he headed over to the communication room and entered a mark into the circle that he had never used before. It was the circle in the imperial palace of the Sacred Alliance.

Julian’s figure appeared the very next moment, panic darting across his eyes at what he saw. However, the agent of chaos quickly smiled and bowed, “Ah, Your Grace. Why would you seek me out of the blue?”

“Is Apeiron around?”

“Her Majesty Apeiron, Duke Richard. Do not forget who I am, any disrespect towards Her Majesty will incur my wrath. I will ignore the first offence, but if there is a next time, I will not speak to you any longer.”

Richard smiled, but he did not say anything. Julian waited for a moment before continuing, “Her Majesty is deep in the void searching for something, she is scheduled to return in three months. She is currently near the Outlands, and there is no way to communicate with her.”

Surprise flashed across Richard’s face, “How come you’re being so direct? I expected a fight.”

Julian grinned, “I respect your absolute power, Your Grace, and that frenzy you showed a few weeks ago. There was nothing about the old you that was worthy of my respect.”

“Hehe,” Richard bowed slightly, “Alright then, I apologise for my behaviour. Could I know if Her Majesty sent a parchment containing drawings of various chaotic creatures to my teacher?”

The butler’s brows joined together for a moment, but he eventually nodded, “Correct. Her Majesty had His Excellency Praton send the drawings over. I am unaware of the reasoning.”

Richard paused for a moment before sighing deeply, “I’m glad that you admitted to it. Also, I want to tell you something in advance. I’m returning to Faust; I’ll step foot inside the day Her Majesty returns.”

“Returning? You mean...” Julian was taken aback.

“Yes.”

The man immediately burst into laughter, bending over as he failed to control himself. When he failed to recover after half a minute, he spoke between chuckles, “You’re making an enemy of every powerful family in Faust. You’ll be decimated!”

“Is that so?” Richard chuckled in return.

That day, more earth-shattering news spread across Norland. Richard Archeron would be following the old traditions, storming into Faust!

Many thought back to years ago, when Gaton had marched into Faust with a mere thirteen knights. What would his prodigious son do?

Over the next three months, one side would make their mark on the history books, while the other would become a footnote. It would either be the various powerful families of the Sacred Alliance, or Richard and the singular Archeron Family. This would be a road filled with thorns, every step inundated by the blood and glory of ancient nobles that served as stepping stones along the way.

War was coming, and blood would be shed. The storm of Archeron rage would crash down on the Sacred Alliance, crushing all in its path or dissipating along the way.

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