Nightmare's Call

Chapter 533 - Plotting: Part 3

Chapter 533 Plotting: Part 3

Henricqal.

In a basement well-lit by candle lights, a middle-aged woman, clad in a gray robe with a three-star pattern, was raising a small glass filled with scarlet-red wine in the air.

“Everyone, let’s toast for the success of another meeting!” She cheered.

A few dozens of wine glasses rose in the air with jubilation. Before this, when they were still down and out, drinking the finest wine in a time like this was something unimaginable. Most of them came not from the upper crust in the safe zone. Just being able to stay alive was the best they could hope for. It had never crossed their minds that one day, they could savor the contamination-free red wine as much as they liked, like what they were doing now.

“Joining the Cult of Salvation is the best decision I’ve ever made in my life!”

“We’re all brothers and sisters, helping one another is the future!”

“All thanks to the prelates’ selfless sacrifices!”

“Thank you, Prelates!” The congregation raised their wine glasses again.

In a dark corner unseen by everyone, an elder, wearing the same three-starred robe, was observing the congregation with a sneer.

“It has spread far and wide. It is worth all the resources we have spent.”

“Absolutely, Sage… Um… I should call you Your Majesty the Sage King now. Your Majesty, the plan is going smoothly,” said another person, a young man with bright-pink long hair hiding in the darkness. “Your Majesty, you’re absolutely right. As solid as the rule in the holy city is, it still has one fatal weakness: the people.”

“Yeah, it is the people who make or break a rule. The people are the foundation of the holy city. The holy power in their sacred crystal font comes from the people’s faith. The Sanctum thinks we don’t know that. But we found that out long ago. No secret is permanent in the world.” The old man nodded.

“Seeds have been planted in these people. We just need to wait for the right time to activate them, guiding them to move toward the outcome we want,” said the pink long-haired young man.

“If not for His Majesty wanting to take over the holy city peacefully, we would have wiped out the Sanctum at once, not having to sneak around like thieves like what we do now.” The old man sounded indignant.

“His Majesty has his own plan. We shouldn’t judge him.”

“Fine, my bad.”

“Now that the master of the Sanctum has disappeared. He could be tied up in something important and not to be interrupted. This is exactly our opportunity.” The pink, long-haired young man continued. “His Majesty has predicted that there will be a major movement of the Blacktide in a few days. By then, we can seize the opportunity to take over the Sanctum!”

“It’s a long-awaited day.” The old man guffawed. “Back then, even the master of the Sanctum and the Underworld Magister Faldt were played by me. They are just a bunch of brainless village idiots.”

“Absolutely. If not for His Majesty wanting a nonviolent transition, it would not have been their turns to come on to the world’s stage. But then, things have also played into our hands. They have at least saved us a lot of time to stabilize things up.”

The two exchanged a look and chuckled. If everything went smoothly, it would not be long before they moved up to the upper crust of society and became the ruler class.

Other than the two holy cities, the Cult of Salvation had also spread to all defensive cities. No one knew from where the cult got so many supplies. They had been distributing an enormous amount of food to their followers with a steep discount.

It attracted many ordinary people who were struggling to feed themselves and help the Cult of Salvation spread like wildfire.

At this time, the Sanctum in Shermanton was still in the dark of what was going on. These people at the top echelon of the Sanctum, once the ordinary followers at the start of the Blacktide outbreak, were now sitting in the high places of the ruling class. Due to the tremendous shift in identity and gaining of power, these people became complacent.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and people have desires and personal agendas. So the holy cities were not that holy, after all.

Some undercurrent was starting to surge following the expansion of the Cult of Salvation.

“Is the Steel Lord in cultivation?” Khadula was back in the Sanctum, asking the personnel there.

“Aye. He came out for a fifteen-minute rest a while ago. Now he is back inside,” a female janitor working in the cultivation zone said, shrugging.

“So hardworking.” Khadula sighed. Of all the marshals, the Steel Lord was the most hardworking. He woke up earlier than the roosters and went to bed later than the pigs did. No, it should be the cats.

All because he wanted to achieve great heights.

Nevertheless, others did not sit idle too. Be that as it may, the Sloth King’s breakthrough had been a slap in everyone else’s face. They had been working their fingers to the bone, yet progress was at a snail’s pace. Some looked on in despair, thinking they could never match a big gun like the Night Lord.

However, some reacted differently. Just like the Steel Lord. He fell into an even frenzied state of cultivation. Used to be one of the lords of Blackfeather, just like the Night Lord, but ranked lower, the Steel Lord had always been thinking he was at the same level as the Night Lord. But the cruel reality had dealt a heavy blow to the ego of this old man.

Khadula came into the cultivation zone. In the center was a monitor screen displaying who was working hard in cultivation and who was doing something else.

She took a glance. There were 135 avatars of her immersing themselves in cultivation. The other avatars were busy setting up beauty centers and doing the Sanctum chores.

She thought, not bad, at least everyone was working. Then she went back to her quarters, drinking fruit smoothies.

Inside the sparkling clean hall, the admin girl looked as Khadula went out of sight, then turned around and looked up at the monitor screen.

“Let me have a look, which prefects are doing the cultivation today…”

Her lips curled up in a strange smile.

The Sanctum had been complacent for too long. Had it not been for the light of the holy emperor suppressing everything, those so-called top people in the leadership were just a bunch of thrashes. Compared to people at the lower ranks who had to squeeze to the last drop of their values to survive, this Sanctum should not have existed in this era.

“His Majesty the Sage King, let your holy light out and get rid of the biggest tumor of this world.” The admin girl prayed quietly in her mind.

In the eyes of others, she seemed to be praying to the holy light. But in reality, no one knew her actual identity. She was a mole that the Astral Mere had planted a long, long time ago in the Sanctum.

As strict and pervasive as the screening mechanism of the Sanctum was, there was one fatal loophole in it: the holy light test. It omitted those who believed in the holy light but not revered the leadership. These people only believed in their own holy light. The Sanctum? They could not have cared less.

“Just wait… wait a little longer. His Majesty is coming… Without the holy emperor at the helm, these pieces of trash should have been binned.” The admin girl’s expression returned to normal as she went back to her post, doing the routine task.

Since His Majesty became the God of Veiled Mirages, he should be the one ruling the world. Only His Majesty the Sage King could isolate the Blacktide and fight the monsters. Only His Majesty could save the people from the hell of suffering.

His Majesty had long mastered the power of the holy light, which was only one of his many abilities.

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