Fort Pence

The city gates stood wide open, and residents had been called to gather along both sides of the street. The broad avenue was packed with people, leaving the rest of the city eerily empty.

The bells of the royal palace rang, their deep, resonant tones announcing the army’s triumphant return.

Legion soldiers marched in formation down the street, creating an overwhelming sense of power. Some were mounted on land dragons, while others were on foot, clad in armor and wielding their weapons.

The band at the city gate played their horns, the notes stretching out in a long, desolate tone.

The Dark Moon General was returning after suppressing a rebellion. Having crushed the uprising led by the Stone Demon tribe, he had brought peace to the kingdom’s eastern region and sent a clear message to the Thunderlake Kingdom, reminding them their recent victory was due solely to geographical advantage.

On the Herdsman’s Plain, the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents still maintained control, but its strength had clearly diminished. The war had drained substantial portions of the treasury and national resources, leaving the kingdom in a precarious state.

The wealth and resources taken during the Dark Moon General’s earlier purge were entirely depleted. Of the many divine technique scrolls purchased from the witch spirits, only a few remained. The Royal Court was left without the strength to initiate another war.

The benefits were also obvious. With this victory, the Dark Moon General’s prestige had soared, stabilizing the situation.

On the street, the crowd moved like a restless sea, heads rising and falling like waves.

Despite the victorious return, many expressed discontent.

Life was becoming increasingly difficult, as the Royal Court imposed ever-higher taxes and various harsh levies.

Each military campaign required not only taxes but also requisitioned various supplies and vast amounts of manpower.

Prices in Fort Pence and across the Royal Court territories had soared, leaving common people struggling to make ends meet. Many were growing tired of the constant warfare that plagued their lives year after year.

“Another war,” someone muttered, their voice subdued but laced with impatience. “Every year, it’s just fighting.”

“Nobody cares how many have starved to death in the west. All these soldiers know how to do is kill.” Recently, refugees had gathered on the outskirts of Fort Pence, but no one dared to let them enter the city. In the bitter cold, countless people froze or starved to death.

“I heard many died this time,” someone lamented. “My neighbor’s three sons… none of them came back.” Every victory was built upon the countless bones of the fallen.

Of course, many in the crowd also admired and cheered, especially the young people and boys who worshipped the Dark Moon General.

In this campaign, the Dark Moon General had killed the leader of the Stone Demon tribe, a man who had been called a lord. The leaders of other tribes had been captured alive and were now being paraded through the streets in cages.

People always admire the strong and victorious.

“Wow!”

“Look, it’s the General!”

“Are those the rebel tribal leaders behind him? Serves them right for daring to betray the Royal Court.”

“So impressive!”

“Another victory!”

“The Dark Moon General is truly formidable.”

Young people surged forward, spitting at the rebels in their cages and cheering for the warriors.

At the front was a general wearing heavy armor and a helmet. He was the Dark Moon General.

A dark, matte sword hung at his waist. When he reached the center of the street, he drew it, and the entire army formed ranks, shouting in unison.

“Victory!”

The dark, matte sword, a powerful supernatural item, burst forth with brilliant light.

He led his army all the way to the royal palace. The king, still just a child, seemed visibly uneasy in the face of such an imposing display.

The Dark Moon General dismounted from his land dragon and removed his helmet.

He wore a respectful expression, one without the slightest flaw.

“Your Majesty,” the Dark Moon General said with a respectful bow. “I have fulfilled my mission. The traitors who dared to betray our country have been punished.”

The child could say nothing until his mother prompted him. He then mechanically recited his prepared lines.

“General, you have done well. I entrust everything to you.”

“It is my duty,” the Dark Moon General replied.

After completing this performance, the Dark Moon General hurried to his administrative hall.

Recent troubles had come one after another.

Just as he had stabilized the royal city and prepared to relocate the capital and reform the system, the Stone Demon tribe rebelled.

As soon as he mobilized soldiers to suppress the rebellion, news arrived that a famine had broken out, with masses of refugees throwing the southwest into complete chaos.

Although the Dark Moon General had won a glorious victory, he was utterly exhausted in body and mind.

Upon entering the great hall, the Dark Moon General handed his helmet to an aide, who took it without a word.

A large group had gathered in the center of the hall, awaiting the Dark Moon General’s arrival.

These were trusted aides and confidants who assisted the Dark Moon General with administrative matters. They were led by a snake person with green, curly hair.

Although his curly hair was slightly untidy, his beard was meticulously groomed. He dressed in a blue round-necked robe with white trim along the collar and cuffs.

He clearly took great care in maintaining his appearance.

Dark Moon wasted no time, gesturing for the crowd to disperse as he moved further inside. “What are the most pressing matters?” he asked directly. “Just the key points.”

“The primary concern is the famine,” the green-haired aide said promptly. “It began in Lance territory but has now spread to over a dozen others. Disaster victims are already gathering at the outskirts of the royal city.”

“Additionally, several territories in the south have been in frequent contact with Suinhor recently.”

The deputy commander, holding the helmet, spoke with a note of concern. “We just dealt with the rebellion from the Stone Demon, Wind Demon, and Zahak tribes.”

“And now the west is facing problems as well.”

“There is truly no end to the troubles.”

The Dark Moon General was deeply concerned about the situation in the south. Upon hearing that several southern territories had been in contact with the Suinhor City-State Alliance, he immediately asked with a sharp tone, “Has the disaster also spread to those southern territories?”

“What is their perspective?”

“What actions are they taking?”

The aide said with frustration, “What perspective could they have?”

“They are constantly driving refugees toward us, even deploying troops to push the refugee tide, claiming to be protecting their nobles’ and subjects’ homeland.”

“When asked to provide relief to disaster victims, they all make excuses about not having grain, yet they turn around and demand relief from the Royal Court.”

“Meanwhile, they are selling vast quantities of grain to the Land of Sunrise, with ships sailing from Suinhor to the White Tower Alliance, watching their own people die in misery.”

“Those people in the south are simply waiting for us to be overwhelmed, hoping to see us fall.”

“In my opinion, they are nothing but despicable and treacherous rats.”

“They all deserve to lose their heads.”

The Dark Moon General calmly continued his questioning. “You mentioned Suinhor has been in contact with them. What is that about?”

The aide replied, “I heard the Temple of Fire Protection from Suinhor sent people to proselytize. They are trying to persuade several southern lords to place their gods in our temples and remove the Mother of All Snakes.”

At this point, the aide’s face turned red with anger. “Have these fellows gone mad?”

The Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents did not acknowledge the Scarlet Goddess as a deity. They viewed Suinhor as traitors and believed that those living at the foot of the Mountain of Life’s Origin were the true and orthodox followers of the Life Sovereign’s faith.

The Dark Moon General let out a cold snort.

His tone was heavy with disappointment. “It seems they want to distance themselves from us completely. They are even rejecting their own ancestors.”

Dark Moon entered an inner chamber, with the others following. The spacious room instantly became crowded and narrow.

“That is enough for now,” he said, leaning back in his chair and waving a hand. “Everyone, please leave.”

“I need to think alone.”

The others bowed and retreated.

As the others left, the green-haired aide lingered near the door. Just as he was about to step out, he turned back and approached the Dark Moon General, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“General,” he said, “the person who forged Moon Eclipse’s Remnant Light for you has requested a meeting.”

“What do you think?”

Moon Eclipse’s Remnant Light was the name of the Dark Moon General’s sword.

It was an extremely powerful supernatural item. With the Dark Moon General’s own power combined with this sword, he could contend with a third-rank ability user.

The Dark Moon General was puzzled. He had previously tried to recruit this alchemist multiple times, but the other party had always avoided him.

This was a very mysterious person, with no fixed residence, and undoubtedly very powerful.

After all, someone who could forge such a powerful artifact must not be weak himself.

He wondered what such a person could suddenly want to see him for.

The Dark Moon General asked directly, “What does he want to see me about?”

“He said he has something very important to report,” the aide answered.

The Dark Moon General decided to meet the mysterious alchemist at his residence. Since his duties kept him occupied throughout the day, it was already nightfall when their meeting finally took place.

The training ground was simple, with wooden posts neatly arranged throughout.

The Dark Moon General picked up his sword and started practicing the techniques he had been honing since his youth.

The Dark Moon General’s swordplay was bold and sweeping, simple but filled with a deadly killing intent.

He practiced the techniques over and over, his mind occupied with the challenges before him as he searched for a solution.

As he moved, he caught a glimpse of a shadow flickering at the edge of his vision.

A tall snake person was instructing him, scolding him for problems with his swordsmanship.

“Raise the sword higher!”

“More steady!”

“No strength?”

“Attach your spirit power to it. That is how you maximize the power of this sword technique.”

This set of sword techniques had been taught to him by this person.

The person was both his teacher and his father.

Some memories floated up in his mind.

When he was young, he despised the repetitive, monotonous practice. One day, unable to endure it any longer, he shouted, “Why do I have to learn sword techniques?”

“Because you will have to fight others,” his father told him. “If you practice seriously now, you will be the one killing them, not the one being killed.”

As a child, he did not understand. “Why must I fight with others? Why must I kill others?”

“Because those are the rules of the Herdsman’s Plain,” his father said. “If you don’t kill, you will be killed.”

“Only those who hold swords have the right to survive. Only those who possess power can live on.”

“The weak are useless. They can only be eliminated.”

“The weak are enslaved, the weak are bullied, the weak are devoured.”

“Dark Moon!” his father shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. “Do you want to remain weak?”

As a child, Dark Moon hated this order, and he hated learning sword techniques even more.

“Rules?”

“Who made them?”

To spark his son’s interest, his father said, “The strong made them. Those who hold swords made them.”

Dark Moon, wielding his smaller sword, swung it forcefully. “What if I become stronger than everyone else? Could I make the rules then?”

His father had not anticipated Dark Moon to draw such a bold connection. It was daring and brimming with spirit.

“You?”

“Make the rules?”

His father could not help but laugh heartily, but he did not discourage his son. “When you possess enough strength, perhaps you can.”

Dark Moon focused his attention and resumed training.

Afterwards, his father could not help but ask him, “If you had the power to make the rules, what would they be?”

“What kind of rules would you make? What kind of place would you create?”

Dark Moon told his father, “A world where even the weak can live peacefully.”

These words were truly naive, but his ambition was great.

His father laughed at his son’s naivety yet was moved by his lofty aspirations.

However, Dark Moon continued with determination.

“In that case,” he said, “people in the future wouldn’t have to endure these dreadful sword techniques. Everyone could sleep in until noon instead.”

His father had been pleased by his son’s grand declaration, but upon hearing these words, his expression changed instantly.

The training, which had seemed to end, started again as he struck the young Dark Moon with the flat of his sword without mercy.

At that moment, those childhood boasts came rushing back to his mind.

Thinking of those laughable ideas, a mix of grand righteousness and childish thoughts, brought a faint smile to Dark Moon’s face.

A cloaked figure entered the general’s residence under the cover of darkness. After undergoing a thorough search, he was escorted to the training ground.

By now, the Dark Moon General was drenched in sweat. Unlike the mysterious life ability users, snake person ability users possessed power equal to thousands or even tens of thousands of men, but their bodies remained largely those of ordinary mortals.

He ignored the visitor until he finished his practice.

He lowered his sword and approached the guest.

“The sword you forged is extremely powerful,” he said. “I like it very much.”

“On the battlefield, it displayed divine might.”

The cloaked snake person replied, “It is my honor that the General appreciates Moon Eclipse’s Remnant Light.”

The Dark Moon General said, “Speak. What brings you here?”

The cloaked snake person came straight to the point, causing the Dark Moon General’s expression to change slightly. “A large group of Abyss Cult followers has infiltrated the royal city. They began preparing a shocking plan many days before your return.”

The Dark Moon General maintained an impassive face, but his hand gripping the sword visibly tightened. “What do they intend to do?”

The cloaked snake person raised his head, revealing a mysterious smile.

“I only know that they may have found the Son of Wrath.”

Although the Dark Moon General knew little about the Abyss Cult, he had heard of their seven deadly sins.

These followers of darkness and corruption believed that humans were inherently sinful and that sin itself was a source of power. They held that the deeper one delved into corruption and sin, the greater their strength would become.

Wrath? The seven deadly sins?

He had heard that the King of the Fire Abyss was also called the King of Pride, and the King of the Black Mud Abyss was called the King of Lust.

“Is Wrath also related to an Abyss King?”

Amazement flickered in the cloaked snake person’s eyes. It was astonishing that the General could discern so much from such a brief statement.

“As expected of the Dark Moon General.”

“That is correct.”

“There are seven Abyss Kings in total. Currently, only two have assumed their positions, while the remaining five are still awaiting their selection.”

“The Son of Wrath is the person chosen to become the King of Wrath.”

It was only at this moment that the Dark Moon General came to understand that the Abyss was composed of seven layers, each corresponding to one of the seven deadly sins.

There were only seven Abyss Kings, their number unchanging.

These Abyss Kings were chosen from among mortals.

As for who had chosen them, it was undoubtedly the deity who ruled over the Abyss, the Original Sin Evil God.

The cloaked snake person continued without pause, sharing another piece of news that silently kindled the Dark Moon General’s anger.

“A famine broke out in Lance territory recently. It is said that several fallen high priests of the Abyss Cult were present.”

“They sought to discover their chosen Son of Gluttony in Lance territory, aiming to crown the King of Gluttony on the Abyss throne.”

“However, they did not succeed.”

“The Abyss throne is not so easily ascended. Even the pre-selected kings are difficult to find.”

“This time they have come to Fort Pence. Even the High Priest of the Abyss Cult has arrived, claiming to be here for the Son of Wrath.”

The cloaked snake person spoke with a smile, uttering terrifying words.

“General, a divine being has chosen someone within the city.”

“The rise of an Abyss king always brings devastating disasters in its wake.”

The Dark Moon General asked him, “Was the disaster in Lance territory orchestrated by the Abyss Cult?”

“What do they intend to do in the city?”

“That, I do not know,” the cloaked snake person said, spreading his hands. “The events in Lance territory may have been exacerbated by outside forces.”

“But General, in this land filled with corruption, pain, and madness, does it even require planning to trigger a disaster?”

“Everything here draws the children of the Abyss to gather.”

“This place is shrouded in darkness.”

The cloaked snake person had said what he came to say.

“The Son of Wrath will soon be born!”

“I urge the General to prepare, for he will possess power at the level of an apostle or even beyond.”

Having finished, the cloaked snake person turned to leave.

The Dark Moon General asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

The cloaked snake person turned his head to look back at the Dark Moon General.

At that moment, the Dark Moon General noticed a flicker of flames within the other’s pupils. They burned with a terrifying and corrupt intensity, like demon fire.

This person was clearly also a corrupted individual, or perhaps a member of the Abyss Cult.

The Dark Moon General had already harbored some suspicions. The other had spoken of the evil god as though it were a divine being and referred to the heretics as children of the Abyss.

However, the Dark Moon General was unaware of Yafuan, the King of Pride, and could not comprehend why an Abyss Cult member would choose to betray their own plans.

Though this person was from the Abyss Cult, he was a loyal follower of Yafuan, the King of Pride.

He followed the will of the King of Pride.

“You are also…”

Before the Dark Moon General could finish, the other transformed into a ball of fire with a boom and vanished into the air.

In the outer city of Fort Pence

In a prayer hall, a modest stone room held a statue of the Mother of All Snakes, standing as tall as a person. These small prayer halls were a common sight throughout the city.

Places that could not afford to build temples would construct such prayer halls for worshippers to pray.

Who could have imagined that just beyond the wall of this prayer hall, which displayed the Mother of All Snakes, stood a statue of the God of Original Sin.

In the dimly lit prayer hall, shadows danced across the walls as a group of mysterious figures cloaked in black encircled the statue. They raised their hands high, their voices ringing out in near-mad fervor as they chanted in unison.

“Great Darkness of All Spirits, Flesh and Blood Star controlling the seven layers of the Abyss, God who devours Original Sin.”

After reciting the divine name, each began their own prayers, their voices becoming somewhat quieter.

But their expressions remained frenzied, as if anything less would fail to express their sincere and corrupt hearts.

“We follow Your will in coming here!”

“This time, we will surely find Your Abyss King and elevate the destined one to the throne.”

After the routine prayers, everyone seated themselves on both sides.

The mysterious figure on the left was the one the cult members called their High Priest.

To be exact, he was not the actual High Priest but was only serving as an acting High Priest.

Only those with partial apostle power were qualified to become true High Priests, yet he lacked such strength. Since the Abyss Cult was currently unable to find someone with the necessary power, they had to appoint an acting High Priest instead.

The cult’s acting High Priest cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone present, and then said, “Esteemed Fallen High Priests.”

“Have you located him?”

“The one chosen by the divine as the Son of Wrath?”

The Fallen High Priests had arrived in Fort Pence before him. He had come only after receiving news that the Son of Wrath had been found.

Without definite news, he would not have appeared.

He would not have appeared, just as he had stayed away from Lance territory, where the Fallen High Priests caused a significant disturbance but ultimately failed to identify the Son of Gluttony.

As the High Priest of the Abyss Cult, he was a target of hatred and assassination attempts from people across the world, including members of the Abyss Cult itself.

But this time was different. This time, the Son of Wrath was divinely designated.

A Fallen High Priest reported, “We have found him, High Priest.”

“We have confirmed it. He is indeed divinely chosen.”

The cult’s acting High Priest was excited, and he coughed out a word of approval.

Then he turned to another person and asked, “Is everything arranged for the king selection ritual?”

This Fallen High Priest nodded. “Everything is in progress, just waiting for your arrival.”

Words alone were not enough. The acting High Priest needed to see detailed information, confirming the person was truly divinely chosen and that everything was truly ready.

In the dim light, the acting High Priest reached out from beneath his cloak. His withered right hand, marked with spots, carefully took hold of a piece of paper.

On the paper was a portrait of a young man.

By the dim firelight, the acting High Priest’s turbid eyes made out the name and information.

He emitted a dry, terrifying laugh full of anticipation.

“Prince of Wrath!”

“You have finally appeared.”

An unimaginable aura erupted from his aged, emaciated body. His gaze was sharp and terrifying as it fixed on everyone present.

“This time, we will not miss our chance.”

“He shall ascend to his rightful throne!”

The seven layers of the Abyss merged into a fractured black giant egg, which grew steadily larger in a way that escaped the notice of the naked eye.

It was much like mortal desires, endlessly growing.

A black and red mythical gate supported this world. Behind it lay the core region of the Abyss, where black rain fell endlessly.

Pitter-patter!

The sound of rain filled the world with its constant rhythm, while the Flesh and Blood Star above remained calm and still.

Above the Flesh and Blood Star, Xiao, the Original Sin Evil God, sat upon his divine throne.

Unusually, he was fully absorbed in building something on a bone table using bone fragments.

He seemed like a man worn down by life, dressed in tattered robes and sitting alone in the shadows. Yet, when he focused, it was as if the outside world faded away entirely.

It seemed to make no difference whether he was enveloped in darkness or lost within the clamor of a bustling crowd.

One by one, small bone fragments in his hands slowly formed a pyramid.

Without tiring and without using any supernatural power, he assembled it piece by piece.

This was the Demon Spirit Pyramid.

Xiao carefully carved a figurine from bone, delicately holding it between two fingers and gently placing it at the foot of the pyramid.

“Lady Elena.”

The figurine was remarkably lifelike, capturing the essence of a proud and stubborn individual. It was unmistakably Elena, just as Xiao remembered her.

Then, he moved again, unexpectedly beginning to dismantle the Demon Spirit Pyramid he had carefully assembled, removing it piece by piece.

He planned to start over, building it more intricately.

In this darkness, he seemed to have little else to do, few ways to pass the tedious time.

At that moment, the ceramic figure hurried over with an eager expression, clutching its little booklet tightly.

“God of Original Sin, what do You think of the person I have chosen?”

The ceramic figure pointed at a name inside.

A person called Byron, with “Wrath” written beside it.

Xiao understood that the ceramic figure was referring to the selection of an Abyss King.

He showed no interest in who the ceramic figure had chosen, as he had delegated this task to it a long time ago.

An Abyss King would appear in due time. There was no need to hurry, for one would be discovered eventually.

As for who could become one, he cared even less, as long as it strengthened and perfected the Abyss.

What he now sought to comprehend further was the path beyond the wisdom ability. He wanted to explore the connection between the Crown of Wisdom Covenant and the Source of Wisdom.

He looked at the bone figurine of Elena before him.

He felt he could find his desired path through her.

He was waiting, waiting for Elena to become mythical.

Waiting for the Demon Spirit Pyramid to become a mythical artifact.

He thought it should be soon.

But how soon?

At least, shorter than two hundred and fifty million years.

Xiao paid no attention to the ceramic figure, remaining focused on his block-stacking game and lost in his thoughts as he waited.

He responded with a distracted tone, “Oh. Do you really believe he has what it takes to become an Abyss King?”

The ceramic figure nodded, jumping up and down on the bone table, trying to attract the Original Sin God’s attention.

It spoke with excitement and joy, “Yes! God of Original Sin, would You like to know why I chose him?”

Xiao chose not to ask, leaving the ceramic figure with a hint of disappointment in its expression.

But it quickly answered its own question. “Because he is righteous!”

“Because he stands in opposition to this world.”

The ceramic figure, having followed Xiao for so long, seemed to have suddenly become clever.

“A person who firmly believes in justice, a fool who insists everything must be either black or white.”

“When he becomes disillusioned with this world, when someone shatters his ideal world, what do you think will happen?”

The ceramic figure’s expression lit up with excitement as it waved its hands eagerly.

“He will unleash a fury unlike anything seen before.”

Xiao responded with a calm indifference, “And that is all?”

The ceramic figure smiled broadly, the painted face on the ceramic stretching in a way that made it look almost comical.

It finally shared the real reason behind its choice.

“God!” the ceramic figure exclaimed with excitement. “Doesn’t this person remind You of Asai?”

The ceramic figure was referring to Asai after he had taken on God’s Form.

It was not the Trilobite Man Anhofus, but the Trilobite Man Asai that Xiao remembered.

At this moment, Xiao suddenly stopped moving and looked at the ceramic figure.

With profound meaning, he said, “You know, you now very much resemble someone I once knew.”

The ceramic figure grew excited. If a god knew someone, that person must be remarkable.

If it bore any resemblance to such a person, it meant it was extraordinary as well.

“Great God of Original Sin,” the ceramic figure asked eagerly, “could You tell me who he is?”

Xiao pulled out a bone fragment, and the entire Demon Spirit Pyramid collapsed with a crash.

Xiao’s lips curled into a contemptuous smile, as if mocking something.

“A fool!” he said, his tone sharp and cutting.

“A fool who believed he had grown wise by inheriting someone else’s memories.”

The ceramic figure tilted its head in confusion, unable to grasp who the Original Sin God referred to as the fool or what the act of pulling out the bone fragment and collapsing the pyramid was meant to convey.