Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

Let's rewind to the moment when Dean Dumbledore appeared and confronted the four demigods.

The appearance of the Dean of Cobalt Soul Academy undoubtedly added a heavy weight to the already tense balance.

However, this weight did not immediately crush the greed and determination on the other end.

The figures hovering in the four corners of the sky—the tomb representing end and annihilation, the oldest demigod Roosevelt Harper, the elemental prince of the Eastern Empire Grenus Tang, and the unfathomable Drummond Quinn, as deep as the ocean.

Their presence did not disrupt or diminish in the slightest.

At their level, the long lifespan and supreme power have already tempered their will into an unyielding rock.

In particular, there was that thing floating above Florence, inside Adel Angelion's body—a complete divine essence.

It is not merely a symbol or a treasure; it is the key to a higher dimension, the cornerstone of a divine kingdom, and the only hope to ignite the eternal divine fire and ascend the unattainable ladder to godhood.

For them, who already stand at the pinnacle of power on this continent, what could be more tempting than this?

This was enough to make them suppress their fear of Dumbledore's unfathomable strength.

Dumbledore's gaze slowly swept over the four demigods, his face still bearing that gentle, scholarly expression. His voice was steady, yet possessed a peculiar penetrating power that reached straight to their souls:
"Look at our current formation. Five demigods have gathered here. The aftershocks of their power collision have probably already penetrated the dimensional barrier and alarmed those beings who sit high on the thrones of gods."

The announcement of the 'Covenant of the Gods' is imminent. At this critical juncture, if we were to engage in a major conflict here, the resulting turmoil and disruption of the laws would inevitably have unpredictable consequences for the final establishment of the Covenant.

Do you all truly wish to see the gods themselves descend in their avatars to 'mediate' the conflicts on Earth because of our disputes?

Unless absolutely necessary, Dunprado didn't want to break off relations. He wanted to use higher-level rules and potential threats to exert pressure and remind them that they were not without constraints.

Roosevelt Harper remained calm and composed, as if he had not heard Dunprado's words.

Grenus Tang stood with his arms crossed, his heterochromatic eyes filled with only cold scrutiny and unquestionable nobility, seemingly unconcerned about the so-called "intervention of the gods."

A hint of amusement even appeared on Drummond Quinn's face.

The three of them remained silent, each expressing their attitude through their own gestures.

Compared to the silence of the three, the tomb was far less polite, its eyes fixed on Dumbledore, its voice like a cold wind blowing from the depths of a tomb:
"Gods? Dean Dumbledore, put away your rhetoric."

At this very moment, those high and mighty beings are probably preoccupied with more important matters and have no time to care about this 'small' ripple in the mortal realm.

Move aside. You are indeed very strong, so strong that even I have to take you seriously.

But today, standing before you are four people who have also reached the end of their strength.

You alone cannot stop us. Our goal is clear—divinity.

"Hand it over, or we'll step over your bones to take it."

Dunprado's gaze swept over the silent Roosevelt and his two companions again, lingering for a brief moment.

A suffocating silence filled the air, with only four distinct yet equally terrifying demigod pressures silently clashing and rubbing against Dumbledore's pure and resilient "white," producing a teeth-grinding crunching sound that only the soul could perceive.

After a brief silence, Dunprado took a deep breath, and his eyes, which always held the gentleness of a scholar, were gradually replaced by a deeper and more solemn light.

He no longer tried to beat around the bush; his voice was not loud, but it was as clear as a declaration, each word carrying a heavy weight:

"You should all know very well that since its inception, Cobalt Soul Academy has been burdened with a mission that transcends national boundaries and eras—to pass on the flame of human civilization, ensure the continuation of knowledge, and protect our race from complete annihilation in endless calamities."

For this reason, we rarely intervene actively in specific disputes between nations or major powers, existing more as observers and guardians.

He paused, his gaze becoming incredibly sharp, as if it could pierce through one's heart:
"But today, I stand here, on Cohen Corleone's side, with a clear and unwavering stance."

The reason is simple—in my years of accumulated insights and deductions at the Cobalt Soul Academy, I have seen a clear and cruel truth:

In this turbulent and perilous era, only the path represented by Cohen Corleone, and his will and abilities, can truly guide our entire human civilization to continue on this thorny and foggy road.

Rather than descending into division, decay, or being completely consumed by some dark force.

His voice suddenly rose, carrying an unquestionable solemn declaration:
"Now, as the current dean of Cobalt Soul Academy, I will tell you the truth:

Cohen Corleone was more than just an emperor, more than just a superhuman.

He is the chosen and recognized inheritor of civilization by our Cobalt Soul Academy throughout this entire era!

The five words "Civilization Inheritors" resounded like five thunderclaps in the hearts of the four demigods, and also in the ears of all the powerful beings below who could hear the conversation.

Roosevelt's usually placid gaze finally showed a ripple; Gnustang narrowed his eyes slightly; Drummond Quinn's playful smile vanished, replaced by a deep scrutiny.

Dunprado's gaze, like a torch, burned intensely at Roosevelt, Gnus, and Drummond; his voice carried both questioning and a final, admonishing tone:
"Your Excellency Roosevelt, behind you stands the House of Nobles of the Central Empire, the glory and responsibility of the Central Empire!"

Lord Genus, you are the guardian of the Eastern Empire and the pillar of the Tang imperial family!
Lord Drummond, you have been worshipped by the Southern Empire for generations, maintaining the balance between the endless seas and the empire!

Behind each of you stand hundreds of millions of people, and the rise and fall of a vast empire and even a civilization are intertwined!

“And the tomb,” Dumbledore pointed sharply at the figure shrouded in eternal darkness, his tone undisguisedly cold, “what lies behind him? The whispers of the seventy-two demons of Solomon, the lurking of the abyss of the underworld, the demonic will that intends to drag the entire material plane into chaos and destruction!”

He is the spokesperson and pioneer of demons and monsters on our human continent!

The Dean of Cobalt Soul Academy's voice resonated like a great bell, striking the souls of everyone present:

“Tell me, you three, as human demigods, as guardians of your respective empires and civilizations, are you really willing to stand with the Tomb, the enemy of human civilization, just to satisfy your personal greed, for a divine title that may help you ascend to godhood but may also bring endless disasters?”

To besiege and destroy our generation's civilization, the 'inheritors of the era' recognized by the Cobalt Soul Academy as the most likely to lead the future?

Destroying Cohen is not just about killing a person or taking a treasure.

That also means that we are personally strangling the last glimmer of hope that human civilization can grasp in this dangerous era!

Beneath the sky, all was deathly silent. Only Dunprado's words, like heavy lead weights, pressed down on the hearts of every listener.

Upon hearing Dunprado's words, the three demigods, Roosevelt, Gnus, and Drummond, finally lost their composure.

The name Cobalt Soul Academy, and the meaning it represents, are by no means unfamiliar to those who stand at the top of the continent and have survived for a long time; in fact, they carry a heavy sense of historical weight.

They had all glimpsed fragments of this organization through their own secret texts, ancient traditions, and even communications with some more ancient beings.

They knew that the origins of this mysterious academy were almost as ancient as the time when the human race ignited the first spark of civilization on the continent.

Its creation was not for the purpose of vying for supremacy, nor for the sake of faith, but for a goal that sounds almost tragic and grand—to preserve the last spark of human civilization.

In those ages long buried by time, leaving only fragments in the most obscure epics, humanity was not the master of this continent.

They were driven from their fertile lands into despair by terrifying monsters and ferocious beasts, like livestock, huddled in dark caves and treacherous cliffs, struggling on the brink of plague, famine, and despair, and several times on the verge of complete extinction.

Whether it was natural disasters, demonic calamities, or the madness and war bred by civilization itself, these events repeatedly attempted to erase this fragile tributary of wisdom from the long river of history.

According to those fragmented records and hidden legends, in the darkest moments when every civilization was on the verge of complete annihilation, there always seemed to be some figures, some knowledge, and some incredibly tenacious inheritances, flickering like candles in the wind, and miraculously surviving in the end, leaving faint seeds for the next rebirth.

Much evidence points to the Cobalt Soul Academy, which never participates in the struggle for supremacy but seems to be omnipresent.

They are like silent guardians, remaining hidden behind the scenes when civilization prospers and quietly appearing when civilization is in peril, carrying out the ancient oath to "preserve the flame" in some unknown way.

"Civilization inheritor"—this term, which may have a specific meaning within the Cobalt Soul Academy, was not something they had heard for the first time.

That usually represents individuals who, throughout the long history of the academy's watchful eye, were identified as possessing the key qualities and potential to lead civilization through adversity and towards a new beginning in a specific era.

Therefore, when Dumbledore solemnly declared that Cohen Corleone was the "Civilization Inheritor" chosen by Cobalt Soul Academy for this generation, the weight attached to this identity instantly overshadowed titles such as "Emperor of Effie," "Lord of Shadows," and "King of War."

However, Tomb—this demigod who is associated with death and end—clearly scoffs at the so-called "righteousness of civilization" and "dawn of the future."

The cold smile remained unchanged, instead revealing a deeper mockery. His eyes swept over the three seemingly wavering human demigods, finally settling on Dumbledore:
"Civilization inheritors? Sparks of civilization? The future?"
What beautiful words, yet how empty they are.

Dunprado, you and your academy, buried in old books, always like to use these grand concepts to bind people's hearts and tie their hands.

But the reality is that only power, eternal power, is the sole truth!

He slightly raised his hand, his fingers, shrouded in black robes, seemed to hold an endless stillness:
"As long as we successfully ascend to godhood, ignite the divine fire, forge a divine kingdom, and become immortal beings."

At that level, one can single-handedly protect a region and even reshape the order.

Our empire, our people, our civilization, will naturally endure with us.

This is the most direct and effective way to preserve it!
It's far more reliable than your vague and unrealistic traditions and hopes!

To become a god, to possess immortal power, and then to use that power to protect everything one wishes to protect—this is the most primal desire deep within the hearts of many top-tier powerhouses.

Dunprado listened quietly to the declaration at the tomb, his expression showing no sign of anger, remaining as calm as a scholar discussing a problem.
"To protect civilization with one's own strength?"

Tomb, do you think of the process of becoming a god too simply and too idealistically?

If all problems can be solved and civilization can be ensured by just one or two newly ascended deities, then... why did the 'Covenant of the Gods' come about?
Do you really think that those beings, who already sit high on their divine thrones and look down upon all living beings, are just idly gathering together to create those cumbersome rules that bind each other and the mortal realm?

He stopped looking at the graves and instead turned his gaze back to Roosevelt, Gnus, and Drummond, his eyes becoming incredibly serious, even bordering on pity.

His next words, though not loud, carried immense weight, bearing the suffocating secret accumulated by the Cobalt Soul Academy over countless years:

"Your Excellency Roosevelt, Your Excellency Grenus, Your Excellency Drummond... Do you think that the crisis we, our entire human civilization, will face in the future is merely the seventy-two demon gods sealed in the abyss of the underworld, or their minions scattered throughout the continent?"

With the knowledge and insight accumulated by the sages of the Cobalt Soul Academy throughout the ages, and with the tides and shadows witnessed through countless eras of guarding the flame of human civilization, I hereby frankly declare—the truly immense crisis we face, which is approaching, is of a scale and terror that even the combined might of the gods currently residing in their divine kingdoms and wielding their respective powers cannot resolve!

The three demigods were taken aback. If even the gods working together couldn't solve it, what a terrifying sight it must be.

A cataclysmic natural disaster? Devourers from beyond the realm? Or a collapse at the level of rules?
Even they felt a chill and bewilderment from the depths of their souls at this moment.

For the first time, Roosevelt Harper, the oldest demigod, revealed an extremely solemn expression.

He broke his silence, slowly turning his head. His eyes, which seemed to have seen through countless conspiracies and the passage of time, stared intently at Dunprado. His voice was low and slow, filled with unprecedented seriousness:
“Dumbledore…you mean,” his gaze involuntarily swept downwards to the young figure standing tall on the city wall, whose aura was only at the peak of the Gold rank, “a mortal who hasn’t even stepped into the Legendary rank, he can solve…a crisis that even the gods combined are helpless against?”

Faced with Roosevelt's questioning, and the same skepticism that appeared in the eyes of Gnus and Drummond, Dunprado said in a deep voice:

"Your Excellency Roosevelt, I cannot give you any definite assurances, nor can I show you any irrefutable evidence."

Predicting the future is never an accurate endeavor, especially when it involves such grand and turbulent currents of destiny.

However, in this young man, Cohen Corleone, and in the seemingly impossible series of miracles that have occurred in the country of Effie over the years, I, along with the oldest observers and recorders of the Cobalt Soul Academy, have seen possibility.

You can think about it yourselves: in the tens of thousands of years of human history, when has anyone like Cohen ever appeared?

After a pause, Dumbledore slightly raised his head, gazing at the deep sky, as if recalling the wisdom accumulated by the Academy over countless years:

"This is not a baseless conjecture."

This is our Cobalt Soul Academy, the place where the 'spark of civilization' was chosen by time and oath to be preserved. Over the endless years, we have witnessed the rise, glory, decline, and demise of countless civilizations, and in the end, we have honed a kind of... almost instinctive talent.

We can sense the flow of civilization's fortune and perceive the truly crucial moments in the tides of the times.

In Cohen Corleone, we felt this tremor of a pivotal moment, and saw that glimmer of light stubbornly shining through the heavy gloom.

He withdrew his gaze and looked back at the three demigods, his voice carrying a heavy sense of entrustment:
"So my answer is: Yes, in him I see hope for resolving the future crisis that even the gods may be powerless to handle."

This is the whole reason why I, representing Cobalt Soul Academy, chose to stand on his side.

This has nothing to do with personal likes or dislikes, and even transcends the rise and fall of the Efein Empire.

This concerns the very continent beneath our feet, and the entire human race, whether it will have a glimmer of hope for survival in that unimaginable calamity to come.

Dunprado's somber words about the crisis of civilization and that Cohen was "hope" silenced everyone present.

They all knew that Cohen was powerful and remarkable, but when the words came from the mouth of Dunprado, an ancient demigod and a successor of human civilization, they still felt a sense of unreality.

It's like an epic story unfolding right before your eyes—an unreal feeling.

The first to break the silence was Grenus Tang, the Elemental Emperor of the Eastern Empire.

He lowered his arms, gently stroking his chin, and spoke in a deep voice:
"After saying all this, Dumbledore, all you've offered are still some vague possibilities, some feelings and hopes from your ancient academy."

I'm sorry, but you don't have solid evidence. These vague and unverifiable claims are not enough to make us give up what's right in front of us.

Divinity is related to whether we as individuals can take that final step, and it is also related to the rise and fall of the empire behind us.

Trading a tangible opportunity for eternity for a mere glimmer of hope, as you put it, doesn't seem like a wise gamble.

Beside him, Drummond Quinn, a demigod of the Southern Empire, maintained an almost detached tranquility throughout.

His expression was deep and unfathomable, as if he were completely immersed in his own universe of thoughts, passively receiving the verbal exchanges from the outside world.

Dunprado's words, concerning the crisis of civilization and Cohen's uniqueness, clearly touched upon some unknown thoughts within him.

However, the tomb clearly had no patience to wait for this long period of deliberation and hesitation, and said coldly:
"Enough, Lord Grenus is right."

Don't be fooled by this old scholar's grand but empty words.

What spark of civilization, what hope for the future—it's all just a trick to buy time!
The four of us are standing here, and every minute and every second is adding more variables.

Who knows if Cobalt Soul Academy has any other tricks up its sleeve? Who knows if that kid will pull out something unexpected again?

"A long night can lead to many unforeseen events; you all understand this better than I do."

He paused, his crimson gaze sweeping over Roosevelt, Gnus, and Drummond, his tone taking on a persuasive quality:

"Even if we take a step back and assume that Cohen Corleone is indeed the 'successor' recognized by your Cobalt Soul Academy, so what?"

Our goal, from beginning to end, was simply the divine essence within his wife.

We have no intention of taking the young emperor's life.

We are simply taking an item that was originally unclaimed, and which happened to have been merged with his wife's.

Does this necessarily conflict with whether he is a successor?
We're not targeting the inheritor personally, are we?

Roosevelt, Gnus, and even the ever-silent Drummond all had a slight flicker in their eyes.

The tomb acted as a wake-up call, allowing them to break free from the grand and heavy vision of the future painted by Dunprado and refocus on the most immediate issue: the risks and rewards of seizing godhood.

The crisis described by Dunprado was too distant and vague, while divinity was a tangible ladder to godhood right before our eyes.

However, the title of "civilization inheritor" and the potential backlash from some kind of mysterious "civilizational fortune" still made them feel a little apprehensive.

The tomb keenly sensed the emotional fluctuations of the three and proposed a solution that seemed to extricate them from their moral and positional dilemmas:
"I understand your concerns. After all, you have a vast empire and countless people behind you. Completely breaking ties with Cobalt Soul Academy, or being branded as the one who stifles the 'hope of civilization,' is indeed a decision that needs to be weighed."

Since that's the case, why don't we try a different approach?

You don't need to directly attack Cohen Corleone, or even seize his divine status—I can handle the dirtiest work.”

He raised a hand shrouded in a black robe, pointing to Cohen standing atop the city wall below, and then to Dumbledore beside Cohen:

"Old friends haven't seen each other for thousands of years. We've met by chance, and a friendly exchange of skills shouldn't break any rules, right?" (End of Chapter)