Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

In front of the two elders, Blanche found it far too embarrassing to loot corpses so openly. She simply couldn’t bring herself to do something so undignified.

Fortunately, the sharp-eyed and experienced elder, Denken, immediately sensed her awkwardness. He cleared his throat lightly and said, “Daniel, didn’t you mention earlier that there were some matters you wanted to discuss with me? This isn’t the most suitable place—why don’t we step aside for a moment?”

Daniel was momentarily stunned.”Huh? Did I… say that?”

“You idiot, get over here,” Denken snapped, dragging Daniel away with an air of exaggerated force.

Only then did Blanche breathe a sigh of relief. She crouched down and, together with Alan and the others, began systematically picking through the bodies of the fallen Legendary mages, looting whatever valuables they could find.

Moments later, everything of value on the bodies had been gathered. After a final check, Alan nodded in satisfaction and led the group away, disappearing without a trace.

Only after they had left did Daniel and Denken return. As they stood in the wreckage-strewn top floor of the monastery, Denken couldn’t help but sigh, “Thank the heavens we didn’t pick the wrong side this time. Otherwise, we could’ve easily ended up as one of the many corpses scattered across this floor.”

Daniel was silent for a moment, then lowered his voice and said grimly, “I have a feeling this incident won’t just end like this.”

“Oh?” Denken glanced at him. “What makes you say that?”

Daniel raised his finger and pointed southeast—toward the location of the NK Kingdom.

“Earlier,” he said slowly, “that flame-haired female King Magus sent her sword-shaped staff—along with the mutilated remains of that black brute—back to the NK Kingdom. Anyone with half a brain can figure out this is going to stir up massive unrest within their empire.”

Then, he extended his finger further south.

“And right next to their empire lies the Astla Sacred Realm—the very land countless mages dream of visiting. Any turmoil in the empire is bound to attract the attention of the great factions within the Sacred Realm. Once they find out what happened here, regardless of whether it’s out of curiosity or pure malice, our peaceful days will soon be over.”

Denken’s face darkened at these words. He frowned deeply and replied, “Your analysis is sound. What’s worse, the lairs of those damnable black mages are hidden in corners of the Sacred Realm. A single disturbance is enough to draw them out like venomous snakes slithering from their dens. They’ll only add more chaos to an already fragile situation. But…”

At this point, Denken’s tone suddenly shifted.

“That mysterious red-haired woman—she’s a King Magus, no doubt. After witnessing today’s massacre, even if you gave those bastards ten extra lifetimes, I doubt they’d dare act so recklessly again.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Daniel replied, less optimistic.

The difference between him and Denken lay in their worldview.

Since conquering the Plantagenet Kingdom, Denken had rarely concerned himself with external affairs. He was content to live out his days comfortably in his palace like a carefree feudal lord.

Daniel, on the other hand, was different.

As a mid-level official in the Church of Steam and Magic, he was often dispatched to various church outposts, conducting inspections and delivering messages. His position required him to stay informed on international developments. He had visited the Astla Sacred Realm numerous times and heard firsthand the whispers of political and magical turmoil.

So Daniel knew full well—within the Plantagenet Kingdom, a King Magus might indeed be considered invincible. But in the Sacred Realm?

Not necessarily.

While the NK Kingdom and those insidious black mages might hesitate upon learning that Alan had a King Magus backing him, they certainly wouldn’t just let this go.

Killing multiple Legendary mages in a single day? In any era, this was a monumental disgrace to any nation.

If the NK Kingdom didn’t retaliate, didn’t demand retribution, then they’d lose all international standing. They might as well cease to exist.

“What are you thinking?” Denken asked, seeing Daniel’s long silence. A flicker of anxiety crossed his face.

Daniel, the Archbishop, forced a faint smile and waved dismissively. “Nothing much. Maybe I’m just overthinking.”

A long, weary sigh echoed through the ruined top floor of the monastery.

Meanwhile, far away in the NK Kingdom, dark clouds were gathering. A storm loomed on the horizon.

This small country, nestled beside the Astla Sacred Realm, had never possessed much in the way of military strength. But thanks to the Sacred Realm’s influence—particularly the Solar Well, a source of abundant mana—the crops grown on their land were unmatched in both quantity and quality across the entire continent.

It was this agricultural abundance that propelled the NK Kingdom, once a minor border state, into the ranks of major farming nations.

However, prosperity came with a price. As their population surged, so did the demand for resources. Whether intentional or not, the NK Kingdom began expanding its territory aggressively, invading neighboring lands without remorse.

And as if fate itself favored them, a rising star soon appeared to shepherd the nation’s ambition.

A young man named Britain Neptune emerged from the shadows.

Despite his youth, he was already a master of economics, culture, and geography. Under his skillful persuasion, the squabbling noble houses of the NK Kingdom finally united under a single banner.

Just as the nation reached the height of its power, the nobles unanimously crowned him emperor.

From that moment on, the NK Kingdom was rebranded as an empire—some began calling it the Great Britannian Empire, invoking the image of a sun that would never set.

And yet now, that once-glorious sun was on the verge of fading.

Inside the royal palace, a grim silence hung in the air.

“Your Majesty… Your Majesty! Are you all right?” cried an elderly servant, standing anxiously beside the Iron Throne.

Around him, the court ministers looked equally distressed. None dared to speak too loudly, fearing that any sudden noise might push their sovereign over the edge.

“Ugh… Uhh…”Seated limply on the throne was Neptune III, the emperor himself. His mouth emitted hoarse, gurgling sounds—like a dying fish gasping on dry land.

Ever since retrieving the black brute’s severed remains from that crimson sword, he had been in this vegetative state—refusing food, refusing rest, his eyes devoid of light. As though his very soul had been stolen.

“I say… do you think His Majesty is like this because he came into direct contact with that red sword?”The Minister of Finance whispered to a colleague nearby.

But the man beside him quickly raised a finger to his lips and motioned for silence, visibly anxious.

“Enough! Why are you all just standing around like statues?”A booming voice rang out from the entrance of the throne room.

Everyone turned toward the sound and saw a well-dressed middle-aged man walking in at a measured pace. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and exuded an air of cultured refinement.

This was Charles Neptune, second prince of the NK Kingdom and the heir to the throne—the man destined to be the next ruler of the empire.

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