Bargjing's upper body was bare, covered in scars. His bulging muscles were covered with countless old wounds, and white steam rose from his body in the biting cold wind.
With each heavy breath, the exhaled white mist did not appear cold; instead, it carried a scorching, pure, and heart-palpitating holy light magic, completely out of place with the surrounding icy silence.
The enormous, jet-black two-handed sword in his hand seemed to tear through space with every strike, carrying a heavy whooshing sound and a faint afterglow of holy flames, carving deep furrows in the snow.
Space distorted silently, like ripples on water.
Rita's figure appeared out of thin air, her bare feet touching the soft snow without leaving a trace.
Her eerie red eyes swept over Balger's naked body, revealing an undisguised and intense disgust, as if she were seeing something filthy.
With a casual flick of her slender fingers, an invisible wave of time magic swept by, and a thick black fur coat instantly covered Balger's battered body.
"Put away that nauseating glow of yours, Balger." Rita's voice was cold, with a hint of barely perceptible annoyance. "It's irritating to look at."
Balger's movements did not falter in the slightest, as if the garment that appeared out of thin air was merely an insignificant speck of dust.
The heavy sword drew a final, perfect arc, embedding itself deeply into the frozen earth beside his feet.
He slowly turned around, his seemingly lifeless gaze fixed on Rita, his voice low and hoarse, like two rusty pieces of iron rubbing together: "Thief of time, what business do you have with me? You are not welcome here."
Rita ignored his hostility, a mocking smile curving her red lips: "You really are a hands-off manager. I've got some news for you, about those two dogs you left in the Church of Holy Light."
Barger's eyes flickered slightly as he waited for what was to come.
“Harrington is dead.” Rita spoke slowly, each word as clear as an ice bead falling. “He was personally executed on the battlefield by Alfonso Lin, the newly appointed captain of the Thirteenth Holy Knights. His death was swift and clean.”
"As for Raymond Ironridge... ha, your junior who has guarded the Gate of Eagles for over thirty years is now being escorted by the Inquisition to the Holy City Elders' Court in specially made Holy Light Shackles."
"His past misdeeds, including the old debt of helping you 'open the door' and seeing you off, have all been dug up by Alfonso, and the people of the Star Crescent Church have taken a picture of him in Star Crescent Black Gold and put it in the face of the special envoy of the Inquisition. The evidence is irrefutable, and there is no hope of turning the tables."
The wind and snow seemed to become even more violent at that moment.
Balg remained silent, only the rising holy light and heat surged even more fiercely, revealing the turmoil in his heart.
After a long silence, a low laugh escaped his throat, carrying a strange sense of approval: "Afonso Lin... interesting. After I left, such a thorny and tough guy still managed to grow in the Church of Holy Light? Impressive."
Far from being angry, his tone revealed an approval of the strong.
"That good-for-nothing Raymond has been holding onto things that don't belong to him. It's only a matter of time before he gets caught. As for Harrington... let him die if he wants."
A hint of surprise flashed in Rita's eyes.
She expected that Balger wouldn't be furious over two pieces, but his admiration for Alfonso still stung her.
“Your bones are tough enough, but if they block your way, they'll still break.” Rita’s voice carried a hint of seduction. “Barger, you’re content to stay here in this godforsaken snow mountain like a savage, watching those hypocrites from the Holy Light Church build their ‘divine kingdom’ on earth? Are you really willing to accept that? Back then, when you joined forces with us to establish the Enlightenment Society, you weren’t just trying to use your name to annoy the Holy Light Church, were you?”
Balg turned his head sharply, the two crimson lights suddenly intensifying and fixing firmly on Rita's face: "What did you say? A divine kingdom on earth?"
“That’s right.” Rita’s smile turned cold and dangerous. She gracefully raised her hand and pointed to the heart of the Holy Light Church’s territory. “The Holy Light Church’s ‘Earthly Kingdom,’ built with all its resources on the border of the Demon Realm and the edge of the Misty Forest, is about to be completed.”
"This will be the first divinely created land on the Holy Dragon Continent, led by a mortal church, with the intention of anchoring to the source of holy light, and even... attempting to break free from the influence of the changes in the heavenly gods."
"Don't you think this grand opening ceremony would be rather dull without the presence of us 'old friends'?"
“The divine kingdom on earth…” Balg repeated these four words in a low voice, the red light in his eyes flashing intensely, the surging holy light magic seemingly about to break through the constraints of his leather coat.
This name clearly touched a chord deep within him, a deep-seated obsession and hostility towards the Church of Holy Light.
He didn't look at Rita again, nor did he say anything more.
The tall figure suddenly turned around and strode towards the simple stone house built of black boulders on the mountaintop.
The heavy stone door was pushed open, making a dull scraping sound.
A moment later, accompanied by a tooth-grinding sound of bones grinding together, a jet-black skeletal warhorse with its hooves burning with eerie blue flames strode out of the stone house.
Balg flipped himself onto the horse, his leather coat appearing even more eerie against the backdrop of the dense aura of death and decay emanating from the skeletal warhorse.
He reined in the restless skeletal horse, his unwavering eyes giving Rita one last glance, his hoarse voice piercing through the snow: "Go."
No further encouragement is needed.
The news that the Church of Holy Light was forging an "earthly divine kingdom" was the perfect fuse to ignite the long-dormant flames of revenge in the heart of this fallen knight.
Rita's smile widened as her figure once again merged into the distorted spacetime, following closely behind the figure riding on eerie blue flames and rushing down the mountain into the snowstorm.
At the summit of the snow-capped mountain, only the howling cold wind and the dark stone house surrounded by not a single snowflake remained.
...
The biting wind, like a whip wrapped in ice shards, lashed at a hidden ice cave on the edge of the far north ice field.
This place is still far from the Eternal Ice Abyss, but it is enough to keep out most of the outside world's prying eyes.
The depths of the ice cave were not formed naturally; they had clearly been carefully sculpted and reinforced by powerful ice magic, emitting a faint blue light.
Two figures stood facing each other, their auras vastly different yet sharing the same chilling coldness.
One of them was shrouded in a large cloak woven from countless fine gray silk threads, with the hood hanging down high, obscuring most of his face, revealing only a pale and stiff chin.
It was a puppeteer.
He exuded an eerie aura that blended deathly stillness with precise mechanical movements; even in this frigid place, one could not sense the warmth of a living person.
Clearly, what arrived here was merely one of his clones.
His withered, pale fingers were caressing a strange, dark red heart pulsating in his palm—the Heart of the Bloodvine. Emerald green demonic patterns flowed under the eerie light, radiating a powerful life force and a ferocious divinity.
Standing opposite him was the Oracle, who had narrowly escaped from the destructive holy sword of Theodore Pellegrini, Grand Master of the Eighth Holy Knights.
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