The Witcher: Start with the Lord Marrying a Wife.

Chapter 622 Prophecy
Human, elf, dwarf, and other races' soldiers gathered to discuss the latest intelligence with great enthusiasm, but everyone's face was filled with exhaustion and heaviness.

In one corner, High Priest Hill stood with his sword drawn, his brows furrowed as he gazed at the glittering stars at the highest point of the night sky, muttering to himself:
"Although they appear to be at peace, I sense a pressure emanating from the heavens... This is the beginning of a new struggle, and our true test..."

Anne gripped the sword hilt tightly, listening intently to the faint mental fluctuations she was receiving. Unbeknownst to her, a dark shadow lurking within the Silver Moon Saintess's body was stirring and gradually expanding, eroding her consciousness...

The night was deep and dark, even more so than before.

Nevertheless, the world was still filled with an uplifting spirit, a blend of resilience and hope, even as the chasm widened and betrayal seemed imminent.

But what the world will truly remember and forever etch in their hearts are those who swore to defend their beliefs and were willing to sacrifice their lives to pursue the future!

David walked slowly through this desolate land, his body, surrounded by crimson flames, contrasting sharply with the dark red wasteland.

His gaze was firm and profound, as if piercing through the layers of mist at the end of this broken world.

Everything seemed lifeless, but his heart was pounding rapidly due to some indescribable force—a secret summons from the deepest recesses of the Blood Prison.

In the center of the ruins, a large altar, half-covered by emerald green vines and covered with ancient runes, stands out prominently.

The altar, carved from obsidian, bears the marks of time and still exudes an eerie, chilling aura.

Above the altar, a huge, crystalline core with flowing crimson veins floated silently. This was the legendary "Blood Demon Core," formed from the condensation of countless drops of blood and soul energy. It was the most terrifying and forbidden object left behind by ancient demons and gods in the mortal realm.

David slowly approached, his halberd lightly touching the air. The halberd, which had fused with the power of fragments of the Great God of War, burst forth with dazzling crimson-gold flames, slightly dispelling the surrounding cold and gloom.

He stared at the surface of the Blood Demon Core, where a faint, indistinct human face seemed to emerge from the patterns—it was Arya!

Beneath that emerald green robe, her resolute and courageous face, with its piercing gaze, appeared and disappeared like a phantom.

David's heart clenched, and he instinctively reached out to touch the illusory figure.

However, just as his fingertips were about to touch the illusory image, Arya's face suddenly transformed into a strange, ink-like, dripping crimson character, slowly appearing in the air:
"When the shadow of the ancient gods falls upon the kingdom of God, I will return."

The blood-written words seemed to carry a curse from the underworld, shaking one's soul. Each drop of the letter brought with it the sound of burning embers, like a mournful roar coming from the depths of the underworld.

The words shone with a dark, scorching heat, sending chills down one's spine, yet also mingling with a mixture of endless anticipation and fear.

David clenched his fists, his gaze as solemn as a rock, a heavy sense of mission instantly pressing down on him. This was not just a prophecy, but a warning, a call to action.

He knew that this path was destined to be full of thorns, but there was no turning back; he could only move forward.

The surrounding air suddenly changed, from icy cold to scorching hot, and then gradually turned into a chaotic, blurry, and fluctuating state.

An invisible pressure made it almost impossible for him to breathe, but he still forced himself to stand up and maximize the fusion of the Holy Fire and the power of the fragments of the Great Divine Authority within him.

This power, like a chain of flames, surrounds him, constantly resisting external corrosion and invasion.

At that very moment, a thick black mist suddenly rose from the edge of the ruins and swept toward the altar at an incredible speed.

It seemed to devour all life, and within it, one could vaguely see the distorted outline of a human figure, like a shadow hunter in a nightmare, silently lurking and waiting for its prey to move before suddenly pouncing and killing it.

"Warning!" David shouted, swinging his halberd violently and driving the tip into the ground beneath his feet.

A crimson-gold magic seal suddenly exploded, and countless runes shot into the sky, intertwining and fighting with the black mist to form a blazing storm.

This storm, like a monstrous beast roaring and raging, tore and spread through the air, gradually driving away evil spirits and other calamities, buying precious time for the camps and allied forces to regroup and adjust their battle lines.

The "Guardian" priests gathered, their eyes gleaming with a clear and sharp light, resolutely protecting this crucial fortress from invasion.

Even so, this challenge, both mental and physical, is not over yet.

As the battle intensifies, the lingering glow left by Arya is influencing the entire End Corridor and the multiverse network of fate in some way—she is not only a pure faith, but also a key connecting the past, present, and future.

Meanwhile, the conspiracy within her, harboring the seeds of destiny manipulation, also begins to slowly brew into a larger and more dangerous backlash...

As night fell, under the soft, dim light of the tent lamps, soldiers of various ethnicities sat around discussing the changes in the situation that had just come in. Their expressions were complex, showing weariness, worry, and a mixture of determination and hope.

An elderly human stroked his silver beard and said softly:

"The message left by Arya not only foreshadows crisis, but also signifies the only hope..."

We must find a way for her to truly return, otherwise all our struggle will be in vain.

The dwarf warrior hoisted his heavy warhammer and slammed it into his palm: "That's right! We cannot sit idly by and wait to die! As long as we breathe, we will fight for freedom to the very end!"

The elven archer added in her clear voice, "We need more information about the source of 'fate manipulation' and to find a way to break it, otherwise the new era will inevitably fall into an even greater vortex of chaos."

As the discussion reached its climax, everyone realized the weight of their mission. In fact, every detail could determine the future course of the war and the survival of all races.

Above the distant ruins, a giant silver-winged phoenix soars under the illumination of high-altitude nebulae. Its flapping wings stir up magnificent sparks, like a symbol of new life burning in the sky, bringing long-lost warmth and a glimmer of hope to all living beings.

Meanwhile, at the far end of the astral plane, in a dark and isolated space, a figure clad in armor, his face hidden beneath the brim of a feathered hat, silently observes the trajectory of the stars.

He was the one who had long infiltrated the conspiracy network within the Alliance of Gods, the one known as the "Master of Conspiracy." At this moment, he slightly raised his eyebrows and smiled faintly:

"It seems... the 'Fate Alteration' plan is progressing smoothly... even the saintess's mind is beginning to mutate... When the time is right, I will make them kill each other, and then I will take control of the new order of the apocalypse!"

His voice was cold and calculating, while the spatial array behind him trembled slightly, countless forbidden runes flashing with a mysterious, dark blue light, echoing the small 'fate alteration' seed containing forbidden knowledge, resonating and rising to its ultimate sharpness!
The night grows ever deeper, but the dawn is already silently brewing between heaven and earth, waiting for the bravest to embark on their journey and use their will to ignite the first rays of dawn in this new era…

In a secluded, ancient ritual hall, a secret meeting is underway, presided over by an elven sage.

They sat around a round table, each lighting a small star-shaped lamp symbolizing the protection of wisdom.

In the flickering light, they examined the rare data samples collected from the Corridor of the End and the latest intelligence reports, among which the information left behind by Arya attracted particular attention:
“Once we can accurately decipher and unseal its remnants of will, we may be able to activate the key codes hidden within the ‘Ancient God's Mantra,’” the most senior Master Weil said solemnly.

"But at the same time, we must also be wary of those forces that attempt to use this power for personal gain or even to destroy the balance of the universe."

A young apprentice asked, "Master, is there a way to use these last rays of light to turn the tide?"
Or at least build an even more impregnable defense?

After frowning and pondering for a long time, Weil finally lowered his brows and replied, "Only by combining the primordial energies of the three elements, enhancing the tempering of the divine artifact, activating the Three Hearts United Realm, and simultaneously strengthening the collective belief of the race, can a breakthrough be hoped for..."

The meeting room fell silent. People exchanged complex glances, each knowing that the road ahead was full of thorns and obstacles, but also full of infinite possibilities and challenges.

And all of this will gradually reveal the truth in the years to come...

Time flew by like an arrow. As the first rays of dawn pierced through the twilight and fell upon the center of the wasteland, David stood beside the altar and looked once more at the Blood Demon Core, which shone with a strange, eerie blue light yet remained remarkably stable as it rotated and floated.

He understood that this was a critical juncture, a pivotal point that would determine the fate of all living beings!
He parted his lips slightly and whispered:
"Arya, you said you would return, and no matter how arduous the road ahead, we will wait for that new life that belongs to the dawn..."

David looked up at the sky gradually brightening in the distance, a heavy sense of responsibility and unwavering belief surging in his heart.

Not far away, a temporary meeting hall inside the new army camp was brightly lit.

The walls are constructed of tough, magically patterned fabric, inlaid with gems symbolizing the alliance of various races, which gleam under the lights.

In the center of the hall stands a huge altar-like platform, upon which sits a large disc engraved with ancient runes and fragments of the God of War's authority—a scepter of faith and judgment for all living beings.

Around the podium, representatives of humans, elves, dwarves, and other allies sat solemnly.

They all had solemn expressions, with a taut resolve tempered by countless battles, and a fresh glimmer of hope for the future.

The air was filled with a faint aroma of sacred texts mixed with the scent of burning pine charcoal, creating a solemn and sacred atmosphere.

David stepped into the center of the hall, each step marked by a steady and firm rhythm.

The crimson flames still surrounded him, but now he concealed his sharpness and spoke in a gentler yet more authoritative tone: "Gentlemen, this world is rife with chaos, and we have witnessed countless tears and sacrifices."

But it is precisely these painful lessons that have taught us that no single individual can protect this land, nor can they lead all living beings out of darkness.

His gaze swept over each representative of the allies, his deep eyes shining like flames: "From this day forward, we will jointly establish a new order for all believers, a new faith system that transcends race and old sectarian conflicts, where all beings are equal and prosper together, and which is based on truth and freedom!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room erupted in applause. The applause, which started cautiously, grew increasingly enthusiastic, a recognition of the infinite possibilities of the future and the most sincere support for David's determination to lead.

He walked slowly to the front of the podium, to the large disc inlaid with fragments of the Great Theocracy.

A burst of colorful runes swirled and flowed, and everyone held their breath as they watched the shimmering light that accompanied the start of the ceremony.

Under the expectant gaze of thousands, a heavy parchment scroll was solemnly unfurled, upon which ancient sacred words were written:

Charter of the Kingdom

"Article 1: All those who contribute their faith, regardless of race or identity, will receive the 'Chaos Mark,' a mark bestowed upon the soul by the gods, allowing the soul to be reshaped in the afterlife and reborn as a body of a new divine kingdom to continue protecting this land."

The reader's voice was strong and clear, reciting each sentence of the charter with rhythm as if chanting an ancient aria.

"Article 2: Any large-scale 'divine war' must be approved by the souls of at least 30% of all registered believers in order to prevent the abuse of war power from causing unnecessary sacrifices and the collapse of order."

Upon hearing this, many delegates exchanged glances, realizing that this was a righteous correction to the past chaos of indiscriminately launching wars, and further demonstrated the new order's enhanced understanding of the dignity of life.

Finally, the "third point" aroused the highest anticipation from the audience:
"Ms. Alia will serve as the first 'Speaker of Faith.' She led the uprising against the forces of darkness, and her unwavering and pure heart will surely guide the entire path of salvation in the years to come."

Following this, the Dawn Cult officially changed its name to "Path of Redemption," symbolizing that it had cleansed itself of the pollution and stigma of the past and was integrating into the core system of the new era jointly built by all races with a brand-new attitude.

This is undoubtedly a historic watershed moment, and the changes have also increased the cohesion and willingness to tolerate each other among different ethnic groups.

Just as the event was about to end, a gentle breeze suddenly swept through the open hall door, bringing with it the sound of birdsong from the depths of the forest outside.

A white dove glided in from the sky, circled a few times in the hall, and then gently landed on the edge of the podium. Its feathers shimmered with a soft silvery light, as if it were a messenger carrying the blessings of heaven and earth.

This moment of tranquility made everyone hold their breath, temporarily calming the turmoil in their hearts, leaving only a peaceful and pure atmosphere of hope.

Alia stood to the side, draped in her emerald green robe. In the candlelight, she looked like a forest sprite descending to earth. She slowly stepped forward, clasped her hands in front of her chest to pay homage to David, while her eyes swept over the faces of every allied soldier in the hall—those who, though weathered by time, still shone with unwavering resolve.

"I am willing to dedicate myself to paving the way for redemption for this land and for all life, and live up to your trust!"

Her voice was gentle yet resolute, possessing a power that could penetrate darkness and dispel gloom. That unwavering determination revitalized the slightly weary crowd.

(End of this chapter)