Chapter 229 – 229: The Traitor of Parthenon

The Queen of Netherworlds moved with enchanting grace, her three thousand strands of ink-black hair cascading down like a waterfall, smooth and silky. Her white court dress outlined her soft and graceful figure perfectly.

The woman’s delicate body was draped in a sheer veil, appearing gentle and translucent, her skin faintly visible beneath. She carried a sorrowful and refined aura, delicate and pitiful in appearance.

From a distance, her ghostly and beautiful silhouette formed a stark contrast with the desolate, lifeless land around her.

She looked at Asharia with a beaming smile, her red lips gently parting as she softly said, “Little sister, thank you for your push. The King who has slept for so many years finally has a chance to awaken. When he rules the world once more, your contribution will not be forgotten.”

What a bunch of lies.

Unfortunately, Asha’ria was also a little vixen. She covered her mouth and laughed, her charming figure swaying, speaking one way to humans, another to ghosts.

The woman in black stockings laughed and said, “Sister, what a grand gesture. Sacrificing a million lives from the ancient capital to resurrect the ancient king.”

“After success, I dare not ask for titles or ranks, but that item is far too important to me. Would you be willing to bestow it upon me?”

“You’re quite cunning, little sister.” The Queen of Netherworlds’ beautiful eyes glinted with meaning. “I was originally planning to save a spot for you to pull you down and make you a Undead, so I’d have a companion.”

Then, the white-dressed Undead raised her fair hand, and a black, crystal-clear stone floated before Asharia.

With a trace of regret, the Queen of Netherworlds said, “Since I already promised you, this Dark Soul Stone is yours.”

Upon seeing this, Asha’ria joyfully picked it up. She had made a lot of money running around, but this item was what would truly strengthen herself.

Originally, her Dark Contract could only summon Commander-class [Knight of Dusk].

The Dark Soul Stone could elevate her to the Monarch level, and once her cultivation caught up, she would be able to summon the quasi-Monarch [Dark Swordmaster].

Not to mention, this item was essentially a top-tier piece of dark matter, greatly enhancing her shadow element.

In the distance, Lu Jun fell into deep thought. Asharia’s dark magic was superb, ever-changing, perfectly integrating shadow and summoning systems nearly transcending the boundaries of conventional magic.

It was likely due in part to the Holy Soul of the Dark Angel bestowed by her foster father, Wen Tai, and partly due to her massive gains from this operation in the ancient capital.

After all, the dark magic resources here were too abundant. Even the Night Thunder Dream Beast evolved by absorbing the immense warmth and moisture.

As for the Queen of Netherworlds, Lu Jun had never expected that the calamity of the undead was being stirred by Quee o restore the armor of the ancient king and reassemble the Emperor’s soul.

Indeed, without the ancient king’s command, how could the Undead Monarchs from all sides unite and attack the ancient capital? There had to be someone organizing them, someone with a shared goal.

Lu Jun remained silent, quietly watching.

Amidst the desolate graves, Asharia and the Queen of Netherworld one in black, one in white stood tall and alluring, an enchanting sight to behold.

Their transaction complete, both satisfied, they exchanged flirtatious banter.

The Queen of Netherworlds smiled and said, “Little sister, farewell for now. The Abyss of Calamity will always have a place for you. When you grow tired of the human world, come on down.”

With that, she drifted away. Before leaving, her eyes filled with amusement swept over Lu Jun’s hiding place, and she gave a fairy-like chuckle.

Then, the Queen of Netherworlds turned into a wisp of green smoke and vanished.

She found me! Lu Jun’s heart tightened. Even with Ding Yumian’s soul fragment assisting, he still couldn’t hide from a peak Monarch in the psychic domain.

But he felt no fear. With the Totem Black Serpent at his side, he was as brazen as ever.

The Queen of Netherworlds must’ve sensed the serpent’s presence and held back, harboring her own plans to trap Asha Ruiya.

Just as Lu Jun thought Asharia had achieved her goal and was about to leave

Suddenly, another group of people arrived: one old and one young.

“So many people showing up.”

Lu Jun nearly acted, planning to subdue Asharia, but upon seeing the newcomers, he held back, curiously observing them.

The old woman wore a white priest’s robe, her expression kind and gentle, yet her aura carried the decay of death.

The younger was a big boy, seemingly only fourteen or fifteen years old, with a frail body and signs of malnutrition.

Though clearly a teenager, he was noticeably shorter than his peers, like a child. Yet his body radiated brilliance, filled with holiness and vitality, completely out of place in this undead forbidden zone truly a walking contradiction.

Most eye-catching was his hair snow white with a faint golden crystal luster. His fair skin gave off a glassy glow similar to an Elemental Holy Spirit. Every movement he made resembled a miniature sun.

“Strange,” Lu Jun thought, puzzled. “I have no impression of these two.”

Still, he didn’t dwell on it. The real world was vast, filled with all sorts of people.

At that moment, the old woman held the boy’s hand and walked up to Asharia, respectfully saying, “Greetings, Your Highness the Saintess.”

Asharia’s aura changed instantly. Her expression turned icy and coldly noble, completely different from before. With a sharp, imposing tone, she said, “So many years have passed, and you’re still clinging to life. Speak tell me what happened back then, traitor of the Parthenon!”

“Why was my father, Wentai, sentenced to the Dark Verdict? And how could the former Goddess Izisha stab her own brother in the back?”

Her tone was filled with seething hatred, murderous intent piercing the air. “If you don’t give me answers, don’t even think about enjoying your final years. You won’t even find peace in death!”

Hearing this from his hiding spot, Lu Jun’s thoughts stirred. So this was about that upheaval in the Parthenon years ago how the Saint Son Wentai fell to the Dark Plane.

Of course, little was known about what followed. Almost everyone believed that Wentai had died.

The old great sage let out a bitter smile and spoke in international common tongue, “I will tell the Saintess everything I know. What happened back then runs deeper than you imagine. You shouldn’t dig too far, or misfortune may follow. I only beg that you remain calm.”

Asharia replied coldly, “That’s not for you to worry about.”

The old woman sighed. “The Saint Son’s light was too blinding it suffocated the entire world. Too many people wanted him dead. The names behind this… are beyond your imagination.”

As the old woman spoke, Asharia’s expression changed several times. She sank into deep thought.

At last, she returned to calmness and said, “Fine. You pass for now.”

Just as Asharia was about to leave, the old sage—whose cultivation was no small matter—called out, “Please wait, Saintess.”

Asharia paused, turned around, and frowned slightly as she looked at the old woman.

The sage spoke with weathered emotion, “After that incident, guilt haunted me. I wandered to the ancient capital of the Nine Provinces, ready to live out my remaining years in peace.”

“All these years, I’ve occasionally helped people who wandered into the forbidden zone healing them and doing my best to suppress the undead. But now, my essence is depleted. I don’t have long left.”

“I deserve this end. But the one thing I can’t rest easy about is this child.”

The old woman gently stroked the boy’s head and earnestly pleaded, “Your Highness, could you take in this innocent child?”

Asharia looked at the boy.

The white-haired youth nervously lowered his head, eyes filled with shyness and fear.

“Hm?” she murmured in surprise, her interest piqued. “He’s only fourteen or fifteen, yet he’s already awakened his magic and reached the Intermediate level?”

“What a dense Light aura… even purer than the ones from Holy City.”

“Yes,” the old sage recalled. “I adopted him over ten years ago when I first arrived in the ancient capital. He was a gift from the heavens.”

“When I found him, an entire village had been slaughtered by the undead his parents included. Only he remained, still a baby in swaddling clothes.”

“What amazed me was that even as an infant, his body radiated Light Element aura. The undead didn’t dare approach him. That’s how he survived until I rescued him.”

“Since then, I raised him. His Light aura has grown denser with each passing day. He awakened the Light Element on his own. I suspect… he may be a half-Calamity Survivor.”

“If Your Highness the Saintess is willing to shelter and nurture him, I believe he will one day be of great help to you.”

The old sage pleaded sincerely. The boy looked anxious and tugged at the old woman’s sleeve, calling out softly, “Grandma…”

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