I reign supreme in the Western fantasy world for eternity.

The leaden clouds on the western horizon were still churning. Ji Tian stepped out of the meditation room window and was already high in the air.

He spread his divine sense, locking onto that obscure, cold aura filled with intense malice, but did not immediately descend to suppress everything with the power of thunder.

His super wisdom at the Nascent Soul stage told him that the apostle who had lived for over a hundred years and knew how to avoid his curse could not possibly be a fool.

The challenge was set for two months, and the location was chosen in the western part of the capital where the royal family and nobles reside. Wasn't the purpose of making such a big fuss to attract others?

Ji Tian concealed his figure high in the sky, using his concealment technique to its fullest extent, even his robes transformed into dark patterns under the leaden clouds.

He looked down and took in the entire western district.

The streets were wide, the mansions were imposing, and the magical streetlights illuminated the main road as if it were daytime. Further away in the western suburbs, a capture that was a foregone conclusion was taking place.

The cursed apostle was firmly bound by two powerful magical forces.

An old man with white hair and beard, wearing golden armor, pressed his left hand down, and a shimmering anti-magic rune gathered in his palm, completely sealing off the cursed apostle's magic circuits;

Another burly man, who looked middle-aged, stood behind the apostle, his right hand gripping the back of his neck like a chicken waiting to be slaughtered.

Ji Tian's divine sense swept over the two men; they were both Grand Magisters.

Why are there so many Archmages in the capital? There aren't many in the Western Territory!

Judging from the insignia on their armor, they are most likely the commander and deputy commander of the Royal Guard.

The white-haired elder's voice carried the authority of someone long accustomed to a high position: "A mere Archmage dares to openly use forbidden spells in the capital? Guess where in the entire kingdom you'll find the most Archmages?"

The cursed apostle raised his head, a trickle of black blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. His face appeared exceptionally pale under the magical light, his eye sockets were sunken, but his pupils burned with some kind of mad flame.

He didn't struggle, only letting out a few low, hoarse laughs.

The middle-aged strong man took the magic-suppressing talisman from the old man's hand and slapped it directly onto the apostle's nape. The apostle's body went limp and he fainted. "Take him away."

Ji Tian watched all this from high above, his brows furrowing slightly.

Everything went too smoothly.

How could an apostle who has lived for over a hundred years, an old fox who is skilled in curses and good at hiding, be captured so easily?

He could have easily released the curse from the shadows, so why did he have to personally come to the western suburbs of the capital to trigger celestial phenomena?

He only had one fragment of the "Seven-Page Book" on him, which has now been confiscated.

So what about the other one?

Was it hidden by him using a secret technique?

Ji Tian hovered quietly in the sky, watching the Imperial Guards escort the Cursed Apostle towards the capital, his divine sense locking onto the Apostle's aura like a leech.

The commotion in the western suburbs clearly alarmed the entire capital.

The defensive arrays on the city walls lit up layer by layer, the muzzles of the magic crystal cannons were aimed at the sky, squads of soldiers in armor moved through the streets, and the mansions of nobles lit up with protective barriers.

Before long, the commander of the Imperial Guards ordered the alarm to be quelled, and the commotion gradually subsided.

Ji Tian followed the escorting procession to the entrance of the dungeon in the inner city of the royal capital.

It was a gray, windowless stone fortress, with only a heavy iron gate visible from the outside.

The array of runes on the door was layered upon layered. Ji Tian scanned it with his divine sense and immediately sensed at least three layers of restrictions at the level of a Grand Magister.

He followed the escort through the iron gate without triggering any alarms.

Deep inside the dungeon, in the interrogation room.

A magic crystal lamp hung from the dome, its pale light illuminating the iron chains and instruments of torture on the stone walls.

The cursed apostle was strapped to an iron chair, his hands and feet bound by runic chains, and an anti-magic rune was affixed to the back of his neck.

His head was drooping, and he seemed to still be unconscious.

The commander of the Imperial Guard sat behind the interrogation table, his fingers tapping on the surface. The deputy commander stood behind the apostle, arms crossed, his gaze cold and stern.

Shortly after, the interrogation room door opened again, and three people walked in.

The leader was a middle-aged man dressed in a dark blue suit with a royal crest on his chest; he had a thin face and sharp eyes.

Ji Tian had met him at the banquet—the Royal Minister of the Interior in charge of intelligence and security.

Behind him followed an elderly man in a gray robe, with a golden badge of the Mage Guild hanging on his chest, whose magical energy fluctuations indicated he was a mid-stage Archmage.

Indeed, the royal family's true strength lies far beyond what is outwardly apparent.

The Minister of the Interior sat down across the interrogation table, his gaze fixed on the cursed apostle, and said in a deep voice, "Wake him up."

The deputy commander raised his hand, reduced the power of the anti-magic rune on the back of the apostle's neck, and then slapped him across the face.

The apostle's body trembled violently, and he slowly raised his head, his cloudy eyes reflecting the pale light.

The Minister of the Interior's voice was devoid of emotion: "Name."

The apostle's voice was hoarse and mocking, "Ahem... Shouldn't you have known by now? No, you don't even know the Order exists, do you? Hahahaha..."

The deputy commander of the Imperial Guards was a military officer. When he saw the prisoner making a mocking remark, he slapped him again.

The other party then honestly replied, "The Cursed Apostle, one of the seven apostles of the Order of Light."

The main problem is that if the enemy continues to attack, the Cursed Apostle will be unable to speak normally.

If they don't speak, how can they inform these high-ranking nobles about the great plan that the Order has already completed?

"Your real name."

The apostle was silent for a moment, then grinned. "Does my name matter? What matters is that you've captured me, but you can't grasp what's coming."

The Minister of the Interior frowned slightly, and the elder from the Magicians' Association beside him understood and raised his hand. A crystal ball appeared in his palm, emitting a soft halo. It was a sacred object for detecting lies.

Searching for relics related to memories is strictly controlled by the royal family and the church, and applications will take some time.

"Why did you trigger this forbidden celestial phenomenon? What was your purpose?"

The apostle's gaze fell on the crystal ball, his smile unchanged. "Purpose? To let you see me."

"I saw you?"

The Cursed Apostle said in a flippant tone:

"That's right. If I hadn't made a scene, why would you have come to arrest me? The archmages of the capital usually stay in their own lairs and rarely gather together."

The Minister of the Interior frowned even more deeply. "You want us to arrest you?"

"Of course. Otherwise, why would I be so stupid as to run to the western suburbs? I could just find any desolate mountain in the north or the east and unleash the curse, making you search for me for the rest of your lives."

The apostle leaned slightly forward on the iron chair, the chains rattling. "But what's the point? You high and mighty people will never know what lurks in the darkness."

The deputy commander scoffed, "Playing hard to get."

The Minister of the Interior raised his hand to signal him to be quiet and continued, "What is this 'coming thing' you speak of?"

The apostle's eyes lit up, filled with a devout, almost fanatical excitement.

"Do you know why the Order of Light is pushing for factories in the North, why it's causing farmers to lose their land and flood into the cities, and why I waited two months after the Enclosure Act was implemented before coming here?"

The interrogation room fell silent for a moment.

The Home Secretary's fingers paused on the table; he did not answer, but simply stared at the apostle.

"You think the Order just wants money? Power? To overthrow the kingdom? No, no, no."

The apostle shook his head, the smile widening. "Those were merely means, not ends. Our goal has always been the same—"

He took a deep breath, his voice suddenly rising in pitch, echoing between the stone walls:

"To give birth to new gods!"