After I died, my personal maid rebelled.

A flock of egrets flew over the towering city wall as the setting sun painted the mountains beyond the city walls with vibrant colors.

A nation's decline doesn't need to be proven by any major event; decline is a long process, while the outbreak of an event is the final result of shattering into the ground.

When the nation is not at peace, the people are not joyful, so everyone's steps are unsteady, reflecting an inner emptiness and an instinctive fear of the future.

In the Civil War, a proud Civil War, King Frank finally achieved his great feat, eliminating the Southern and Northern territories that posed the greatest threat to the kingdom.

From the front lines, since the death of Duke Oswald, the Brave Army has been advancing triumphantly, even successfully capturing Ice City, the capital of the Northern Territory.

The Charles family is doomed, and a new ruler will emerge amidst the throngs of nobles, while the silence of the common people will be equally deafening.

Because Duke Oswald died on the battlefield of the demons, killed by the conspiracy of the hero squad, in the eyes of the northern lords, they were not the young lions who launched the challenge, but a bunch of despicable vultures.

Thus, amidst these bizarre reports, King Frank keenly discerned a crucial piece of information: the people of the Northern Territories were gradually heading north, while at the same time, Count Camaro of Starfall City had gathered the last of the Northern Territories' lance cavalry and had not submitted to the Warriors.

Frank sensed danger and kept writing to his sister, Princess Diana, reminding them that they must act immediately to dismantle the Starfall City forces and take over the passes there.

But he received no response whatsoever.

The nation's elite troops and logistical supplies are all concentrated in this chaotic and noisy land of the Northern Territory. The brave are blinded by their courage; they are standing on the edge of a precipice, and one wrong step will lead to their utter destruction.

Therefore, Frank dared not gamble. In order to deal with the increasingly high-pressure situation in the Northern Territory and the out-of-control situation of the Warriors and others, he thought of another way to solve the problem.

"Where is Luna, the young lady of the Northern Territory, being held?"

After finishing his official duties, Frank suddenly asked a question. Sophia, who was standing beside him with her staff and her eyes closed, opened her eyes slightly and answered after a long while.

"Does Your Majesty intend to support Luna? Please forgive my bluntness, but the moment Luna escapes, she will storm the royal city."

Frank felt a surge of dissatisfaction, but he didn't show it on his face.

If the great mage Medivh were still alive, he wouldn't have been constantly hampered by the Mage's Guild.

When exactly did things start to change...?

Late at night, Charles, carrying a longbow, returned to the palace and reported to Frank's bedchamber: "Your Majesty, the investigation is complete. Miss Luna is currently imprisoned in the underground prison of the Holy See."

The air was silent for several breaths before a series of chaotic sounds broke out.

"The Vatican? You mean, even the archbishop was doing things behind my back?"

The king's voice was a mix of laughter and anger, tinged with an indescribable sorrow. Charles, kneeling outside the door, dared not breathe, his head bowed, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

As the supreme commander of the royal guard, he would not hesitate to launch a massive purge in the royal city and eliminate all rebellious villains at the king's command!

However, Frank quickly calmed down. The only reason the Archbishop betrayed him was to preserve the last bloodline of the Charles family... The entire process of Luna's capture was inseparable from the involvement of the Mage's Guild.

If we're talking about a fight, it should be between these two families...

"Charles! Immediately send troops to the Papacy!"

In the dead of night, flames suddenly blazed across the royal city as large armies rushed from the palace and outside the city toward the Papacy. Frank had been preoccupied with the civil war in the human kingdoms and dealing with the destruction caused by the Warriors' Army, neglecting Archbishop John, who had been absent for some time.

The old man isn't an unreasonable person. If he wants to protect Luna, he will definitely offer some terms and negotiate with me. At the very least, he will let me know after he brings Luna to the Holy See.

Moreover, Sophia's response was also strange. The relationship between the Mage's Guild and the Adventurers' Guild is bad, and the relationship with the Holy See is even worse. If the Archbishop had taken the person away from them, they wouldn't be so quiet!

Something's happened, something must have happened!

"Your Majesty, you..."

"Get out of here!"

At a command, Charles led his troops to quickly apprehend the nuns blocking the way, and then personally led the anxious-looking Frank into the Vatican.

As if things weren't bad enough, Sofia, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, did not show herself directly. She stood under the eaves with a grim expression, because she had received even worse news—a riot had broken out in the Northern Territory.

Footsteps shattered the tranquility of the corridor, and torches chased away the darkness, adding more swaying shadows.

The archbishop's room had no lock. As Frank gripped the doorknob with trembling hands, the sweat on his palms mingled with the dust on the handle, creating a sticky mixture. A spiderweb, both light and heavy, struck his nose.

Frank pushed the door open with a creak, and a stench hit him, followed by the rustling of rats.

As the light streamed in, the gloom that had accumulated over the past few days finally dissipated. After a brief silence, the sound of faint breathing filled everyone's ears.

The soldier, carrying a torch, cautiously entered the room, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Rats scurried at his feet, and the dust, which appeared to be blood-black, blurred his vision.

Suddenly, a thunderclap boomed in the sky, and the soldier screamed as he fell to the ground along with the torch he had dropped, igniting the scattered papers around him.

The firelight grew brighter and brighter. Frank looked up and saw John sitting behind his desk.

The crowd was immediately filled with horror. They had indeed seen Archbishop John's body, and just as they had guessed, John had met with misfortune. But the limp corpse actually blinked weakly, and a faint green light shone in its decaying eyes.

He died, as he should have, yet he lives on, in an unimaginable way.

Innards are always welcome. The rats tore a large, jagged hole in his abdomen, chewing up the various organs inside and stuffing them with rat tails that were still wagging.

John, whose muscles twitched and whose blood had long since dried up and congealed, let out a strange, bitter laugh. His lips, which he managed to pull up with difficulty, seemed to finally no longer need to pretend, and every crack in them was filled with contempt.

"Artists don't need to exhaustively imagine my wails; realistic portraits will leave them with timeless masterpieces."

His voice seemed to come from a distant place, from a crack blown open by the winds of hell.

"Archbishop John! What on earth happened?" Cold sweat trickled down Frank's face as he tried to understand the situation using his political acumen, only to have his thoughts crumble.

John opened his mouth as if to sing a hymn.

"The high and mighty king has dug the tomb of the future; he has decided to bury himself with his own hands."

"Lamb of God, do not be impatient to find the answer in my mouth. No matter how much courage and wisdom you possess, you are nothing more than a caged beast wearing a crown."