Knight and Wand

Chapter 395 The Summit Discussion (A Grand Resurrection!)

The ruins of the collapsed inner fortress were exposed to the cold wind on the mountaintop, and the howling mountain wind gradually dispersed the bloody smell that clung to the area.

Leon stared at the demonic sword covered in scarlet patterns on the ground, and it seemed as if he could hear the wails of countless ghosts hidden beneath its blade.

He could sense a faint, almost imperceptible power and whisper, tempting him to take control of this Horcrux forged by a demon.
Of course, having realized this, Leon would not succumb to the guidance of this magic.

Moreover, he had already dealt with the source of this power more than once, and had personally witnessed the source of this power's helpless rage when it was imprisoned.

Even if Skush himself came before him, someone who knew him inside and out, he could never trick himself into submitting to the Blood Demon.

Leon shook his head slightly, looked away, and turned to look at his close friend who was collecting his father's ashes into an urn.

Lohark put his hand on Aze's shoulder, his face full of worry, but he didn't know how to comfort him.

The group arrived one after another and quickly learned what had happened.

Leon was completely unprepared for Charlemagne's decision to commit suicide, and like Lohark, he was at a loss as to how to comfort his dear friend.

He remembered Aze's excitement when he thought that the Netti card might bring his parents back to life, and he naturally understood the pain of losing his parents that he was experiencing now, having witnessed his father's suicide.

Silently raising his head, Leon looked up at the sky.

The magical dark clouds are dissipating, and sunlight is gradually shining through the sky.

Ever since he and Olivia destroyed the sacrificial site in the Demon Realm that collected the souls of the Star Gods, the dark clouds that had been hanging over the southern border of Kantadar have shown signs of receding.

The torrent of souls released when Shaleman died seemed to have drained the souls from the surrounding Soul Bell Altar, causing the surrounding dark cloud domain to collapse at an accelerated pace.

As Leon flew along, he saw that the vengeful spirits wandering around the mountain fortress had vanished without a trace, and large numbers of ghouls had also fallen down in droves as if they had lost their power, turning into real corpses.

It is unclear how extensive the impact will be.

However, a considerable number of the dead remained unaffected.

At least when Leon broke in, the blood knights and ghoul lords surrounding Azerian were not down.

Looking around, apart from a few Rolandar blood knights who stayed behind to guard Azerian, the other high-ranking undead had all gone with Sir Angor, Shaleman's former second-in-command, to control the undead army that had fallen into chaos.

Leon had no intention of intervening for the time being. The sudden death of the leader of the undead and the dissipation of a large number of undead were both advantageous and disadvantageous to the living alliance, which was on the verge of war.

While the overall threat posed by the undead has been greatly reduced, the risk of igniting conflict is still enormous if a higher undead that regains its self-awareness tries to take advantage of the situation while the group is leaderless.

Fortunately, besides the Blood Demon Sword that no one dares to touch, there is also an unclaimed Demon Blade in the hands of the Blood Knight Angor, which can also control those high-level undead.

Although Leon did not know Angell's character or future plans, at least the other party seemed to have more rationality than the nearly insane Charlemagne, and was easier to negotiate with.

Hearing Azerian stand up, Leon looked away and glanced at his close friend who was holding the earthenware jar.

“If you want to see him again, I can help you. It might not be difficult, and with my magic, your father won’t go into that dangerous and insane mental state.”

Leon still remembers the promise he made to his friend.

For better or worse, Charlemagne has now left an indelible mark on this world, and with the summoning ritual of the Netti cards, it would probably be easy to find his soul in the Dead Sea.

However, after hearing his words, Azerian hesitated slightly, remained silent for a while, and then calmly shook his head.

"No, for my father, this is the best outcome. Even if he could regain his sanity and return to this world, it would only bring him more pain in his lucidity. My father was a decent man, and the countless blood debts he has committed will only torment his soul from now on."

Azerian handed the urn of ashes to the Blood Knight beside him and looked at Leon again: "Once things are over here, I will return to Rolandar and bury my father in my mother's coffin. Even if the Holy Sun and the Prophet cannot forgive his sins, as long as he can meet my mother in the Dead Sea, I think my father can find true peace."

Seeing that his close friend had given up on the idea of ​​resurrecting his loved ones, Leon nodded and said no more.

As Azerian said, death was not only Charlemagne's liberation, but also his atonement.

“Leon, I need your help.” Azerian suddenly looked at the Blood Demon Sword left behind by his father not far away.

Leon followed his gaze.

“Sir Angor said that the two demon-forged blades can not only control the undead, but also imprison the souls of the dead. I promised my father that I would make the guilty of the massacre of the Holy City suffer the punishment they deserve, until they atone for their sins.” Azerian’s calm tone was chilling.

“Father has released all the innocent souls and the vengeful spirits of the victims of the Holy City from the sword. Now, only Aviut and the Kantadar and Uriah people who participated in the invasion remain in that sword and the longsword in Angor’s hand.”

Lohark, who was standing to the side, was stunned for a moment upon hearing this, and a hint of pleasure appeared in his eyes as he looked at the demonic sword.

"What do you want me to help you with?" Leon asked, somewhat puzzled.

“I need you to judge those guilty souls with me. You have always been calmer than me and Lohark when it comes to right and wrong.” Azerian frowned, his eyes filled with hatred as he stared at the blade. “I want the sinners who destroyed Rolandar to suffer eternal torment, but I am only a mortal and cannot exercise this power that transcends death alone.”

He paused, closed his eyes, sighed, and slowly composed himself before continuing in a deep voice, "I cannot guarantee that I can fairly ensure that all sinners receive punishment commensurate with their sins."

Leon understood what Azerian meant.

Indeed, whether it is hanging, beheading, or slow slicing, death is generally the most severe and ultimate punishment in the world.

But for those two demonic blades that could imprison the souls of the dead, death became the least desirable outcome.

The centuries-long sentence that seemed like a joke in his previous life has been transformed into an eternal punishment that can be carried out in practice under this magic that can imprison the soul.

However, while the thugs who massacred Rolandar may indeed have deserved to die, it cannot be ruled out that some souls could atone for their sins with a death sentence alone.

Just like the foster father of the little gold coin who fled Rolandar, even among the Kantadars, or even the Uriahs, there may be souls who have not committed unforgivable sins.

"Yes, I will join you in judging the souls of these sinners."

Leon said, looking at Lohark, "You too, let the three of us try them together. Maybe we can find the murderer who killed our loved ones."

Realizing that he might find the true culprits who had abused his family, Lohark's bloodshot eyes widened, his hatred burning fiercely. Azerian didn't find Lohark's fierce expression inappropriate; he was simply not used to showing his emotions too openly. However, the hatred in his heart was no different from that of his best friend at this moment, which was why he hoped that Leon could restrain him from losing control due to anger when necessary.

“There’s another problem. Unlike that longsword, the power of this Blood Demon Sword is far too dangerous. Angor said that if it falls into the hands of other undead, there’s no guarantee that they won’t be controlled by the sword. My father suffered greatly from this. Leon, since you know the magic to seal demons, do you have a way to properly guard it?” Azerian asked.

Leon pondered as he examined the demonic sword on the ground, feeling that there were more and more dangerous objects around him that needed to be contained.

The black sword stained with the blood of the terror demon, the soul stone that sealed the arrogant demon, and now this demonic sword forged by the blood demon.
Frankly speaking, unlike the unclaimed Demon Blade in Angor's hands, the true owner of the Blood Demon Sword, Skush, was neither banished by the scattered demon soul nor sealed away. It would be unwise for him to keep the sword.

Although he has always had a strangely high resistance to the power of these demons, not everyone is as able to effectively resist the erosion of the spirit world's magic as he and Olivia.

Leon cautiously raised his hand and used his manipulation technique to lift the demonic sword and plant it in the ground in front of him. He thought for a moment, "Afterwards, I'll transfer all the sinners' souls within this sword to another demonic blade to be tortured, and then I'll figure out a way to destroy it."

While struggling with how to deal with these troubles, Leon suddenly had a flash of inspiration and reached for his pouch containing empty Nettie cards.

He almost forgot that the artifact in his hand was not just capable of casting summoning magic.

As a powerful magical vessel, the Netherite can also seal magic and things. Its ability to contain the remnant soul of the Blood Demon further demonstrates the control the Netherite has over the power contained within it.

Just like when the Boiling Heart Necklace was sealed, put the Soul Stone that sealed Valarri and this Blood Demon Sword into the Neti Card.
Trying hard to recall exactly how to do it, Leon was momentarily lost in thought.

He couldn't even remember how he had sealed the magic necklace's effects into the Netti Card.

Leon pinched the space between his eyebrows, feeling a strange sense of unease.

Since embarking on the path of magic by following that ancient grimoire, Leon knew very well just how extraordinary his memory had become.

Until now, I have never forgotten anyone or anything I have seen, so why is my memory of creating the Boiling Heart Treasure Card so vague now?
"Leon, what's wrong?" Lohark looked at him strangely, suddenly stopping mid-sentence as if in a daze.

"It's nothing. Anyway, leave this demonic sword to me." Leon came back to his senses, reached out to unfasten the brass buckles on his armor, and pulled his cloak over himself to wrap the Blood Demon Sword.

Putting aside his thoughts for the time being, he decided to carefully examine his memories after dealing with the current matters, lest Varari invade his dreams and do something to him.

Clutching the wrapped Blood Demon Sword, Leon's gaze pierced through the stone pillars amidst the ruins, looking down at the writhing undead below the mountain fortress.

As far as the eye could see, the remaining army of ghouls had gradually regained order from the chaos. They seemed to fear the sun overhead and fled into the shadows of the dense forests and mountains. Even the bat-winged ghouls and giant bat ghosts that had been lurking in the dark clouds descended and hid in the canyons and ravines to avoid the sunlight.

"Sir Angor just addressed you as his lord, and he wields that demonic blade. Your father's former retainers probably have no intention of starting their own faction for the time being. So, you have essentially become the leader of these undead indirectly. At least the blood knights of Rolandar's lineage listen to you for now."

Leon turned to Azerian, his tone serious rather than teasing, and asked earnestly, "I wonder how many undead armies Angor can control with that demonic blade, but the other ghoul lords shouldn't cause trouble anytime soon. We need to figure out how to handle these relationships as soon as possible. With so many undead troops wiped out at once, I suspect that once the Church and Prince Karl's allied forces learn the truth, some of them will consider taking this opportunity to eliminate the undead threat once and for all."

Azerian nodded, knowing that if the situation became so out of control, Sobonitz's jihadist army would be in a dilemma.

Having fought alongside the Church of Serian, the Kingdom of Feru, and the armies of the Kingdom of Malaken during this period, Azerion understood their hatred and animosity towards the undead better than Leon did.

Previously, if it weren't for the overwhelming power of the undead army of the Lich Lord Eviut and the Lich Karazk, these three kingdoms, ravaged by the undead, would never have chosen to cooperate with Shaleman's vampire army after several rounds of mediation by Princess Ines.

But now that Earl Eliver has regained his freedom, within the Holy War Alliance, David's Thornflower Clan army will definitely stand on his father's side.

He knew that he and Leon were in the same boat, and besides, the future of the vassal knights of the Flarell family was also a responsibility he needed to shoulder now.

Not only them, but also the millions of dead who were transformed by the calamity, including the soldiers and civilians of Orland and Serian, and even a considerable number of Kantadar people, are innocent victims of the disaster.

For those bloodthirsty ghouls who are like walking corpses and will instinctively attack living beings if they are not controlled by a higher-ranking undead, perhaps freeing them from their bodies and letting their souls rest in peace is a better ending.

But what about the high-ranking undead with full consciousness? Would those innocent people who have regained their freedom now willingly have their lives ended again?

Even if they live as undead, Azerian asked himself honestly and felt that there must be some among them who would want to continue living even as undead. He did not think it was fair to forcibly deprive them of their right to choose.

"Actually, with that demonic blade that commands the undead, things are actually easier to handle here." Azerian sighed as he looked down the mountain. "Except for those high-ranking undead who bear unforgivable sins and are willing to continue living like this, as long as they abide by the constraints of the world's order, they can continue to live like this. As long as we can ensure that the wielder of the demonic blade will restrain the undead from running amok, the undead will naturally be unable to cause trouble."

The problem is, how do we convince the church and others that allowing these undead to continue existing in the world is not a threat? And how do we convince them that the undead controlling that demonic blade won't unleash another catastrophe? This is a problem for us as well.

After he finished speaking, he leaned against the collapsed stones and sat down on the fallen stone pillar to ponder.

Lohark scratched his head and looked at the two of them. After thinking about it carefully, he shook his head and gave up on thinking. This was not a problem that he, who was used to being straightforward, was good at considering.

“To avoid unnecessary conflict, we must ensure that the Demon Blade is effectively controlled. On the other hand, we must make the Church, the Kingdom of Feru, and the Kingdom of Malaken understand that allowing the undead who want to continue living to exist is far more beneficial than eliminating them, and the benefits must far outweigh the drawbacks.” Leon’s quick mind raced, countless ideas sprouting in his mind. He had already made up his mind and turned to look at the two of them.

“Tell me about it.” Azerian looked up at the sound of his voice.

"Establish an alliance, a larger 'Holy War Alliance,' an alliance that includes the undead such as the Farorius and Flarell families, and militarily, make the undead army a force to protect the borders of nations and defend against future threats."

Leon held up a finger, his expression strange, and said, "And more importantly, do you remember that somewhat whimsical joke I made back then?"

"You mean?" Azerian's expression also turned strange.

"That's right. Not only do they exist as an army that can help countries defend against foreign enemies, but they can also cultivate land, raise livestock, build roads, and construct houses. That's all I can think of for now. Those low-level ghouls can perform a lot of hard labor under the command of high-level undead. They don't need to eat or be paid. Where can you find such free labor?"
Every country has lost so many lives in the disaster, and all have suffered immense losses. If the spirits of the dead could compensate for the losses of each country with a stable and massive amount of food production over a long period of time, do you think this could allow the living and the dead to coexist?

Azerian immediately pondered the situation in the south of Kantadar, which had become a no-man's land. Once agriculture was restored, the output of this vast region would be unimaginable, especially since these outputs were hardly consumed.

His thoughts wandered, even considering the vast grasslands north of the Uriah steppe, and the livestock that could be grazed there once the grass had recovered.
An uncontrollable image of grotesque ghouls carrying hoes and tilling the land flashed through Azerian's mind, and the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.

Leon patted him on the shoulder, his eyes flashing with a strange light: "Aren't we supposed to make the souls of those Eastern Invaders suffer the corresponding punishment? Wouldn't it be a waste to just imprison the souls of those thugs in Horcruxes to be punished?"

"It would be better to let those thugs of Kantadar and Uria serve sentences of hard labor ranging from tens to hundreds of years, according to the severity of their sins in life, so that they may create value for all the survivors of the disaster to atone for their sins and make amends to all living beings, until they have redeemed themselves before they die."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Earl Eliver’s laughter echoed from the end of the suspension bridge outside the gate of the ruins.

"You brat, I always thought you were the griffin of the gods, but now it seems you should be the judge of death."

Leon looked over and saw that the Lord of the Thorns and Sir Angor, who had rushed to control the situation earlier, had returned.

(End of this chapter)