Mystery: My Encounters with the Celestial God

Chapter 556 Impotent Rage 6K (Two-in-One)

"Damn it! We've already given way step by step, what more does He want!?"

"Are you really going to completely break ties with us and fight to the death?!"

"This benefits no one!"

An angry roar echoed from the elegantly decorated palace, which was filled with brass and dark gold hues.

Immediately following was a series of crisp crackling sounds.

Wooden tables and chairs were scattered everywhere, and candlesticks and swords were carelessly tossed on the ground.

The shadows throughout the palace seemed to come alive, swaying and twisting in the dim, yellowish candlelight, like the most chaotic and profound order.

"I want Him dead!!!"

Impotent rage is probably the only thing George III can do right now.

Since Ron Sothos arrived in Rune, the royal family, which is not lacking in angels and level zero sealed artifacts, quickly became aware of his presence.

After all, Williams Street is frequented by so many angels and demigods that it rivals the den of evil in Backlund.

The Rune military isn't some kind of baboon; they wouldn't even notice this.

The vast brass palace was deserted. King George III, crowned and with a round face, sat slumped on his brass throne, muttering:

"The old days, the pillars, the ancient gods, the creators of all things, the unifiers of all things..."

"Why are you always picking on me?"

The current king of Rune felt his head was about to explode at the mere thought of those fragments of words spoken in ancient history or by certain beings in the spirit world.

This guy sounds so awesome, the only one who can compare to him is the Second Era, the one who claims to be the creator of everything, the all-knowing and all-powerful god.

"Damn it! I shouldn't have tried to maintain the balance by appeasing the three major churches instead of making contact with them. No, even if I had, what would have been the point?!"

"Even if everyone in the royal family were willing to accept it, the three major churches would definitely not agree. Every believer taken away is one less believer, and besides..."

"The colonization of the Southern Continent is an irreconcilable conflict!"

Click!

A loud bang came from the brass throne, and a handprint suddenly appeared on the exquisite carvings on the right armrest.

King George III, his eyes bloodshot, looked like a gambler who had lost everything, and he couldn't stop complaining:

"What's so great about the Southern Continent? Isn't Luen hundreds of times stronger? If you were looking for me, why did things have to turn out like this?"

"You can tolerate the Rose School, you can tolerate the Seven Gods, I just want to become a god, and I'm only willing to pay a small price. Why are you pretending to be a saint at a time like this?"

Jealousy can distort a person's character. A being who surpasses even the ancient sun god is worth investing in with everything one has.

Unfortunately, He understood this truth too late.

Since Rosell's return, having lost the uniqueness of the Black Emperor and the three Sequence One characteristics, George III, with his two small mustaches, who frequently appeared on banknotes, was always feeling uneasy.

It was an unknown feeling, a fear of being abandoned by the whole world, of no one ever looking at him again.

Once a pawn has lost its usefulness, its fate will be left to history to decide. George III did not believe that this matter would simply pass by uneventfully.

In the past, He could have used the condition of becoming the Black Emperor to make all the gods accept him.

But now, he has lost all his chips at the gambling table...

"There must be a force behind Rosell's resurrection... and now it seems it can only be Him!"

"Damn it, damn it!!!"

"They're all corrupt emperors, why can't it be me!? Why can't it be me!?"

For a while, Shinobu thinks more and more angry, and takes a step back and thinks more and more losses.

In George III's eyes, since Ron had made such huge profits in Rune, he must be a good comrade-in-arms who would tie the entire Rune to the war machine.

You're guaranteed to win!

However, it now appears that while the other party is indeed closely tied to Rune, they are not closely tied to the royal family.

This puts the Ruen royal family in a somewhat awkward position.

It can be said that the old celestial being has turned into a tentacle monster—neither human nor human.

Especially after Ron presented the evidence at the banquet.

It's obvious to anyone what He's really thinking.

At that moment, a series of hurried footsteps echoed through the empty, cluttered, and dimly lit palace.

Viscount Stratford came from outside the palace and said in a hurried tone:

"Your Majesty, the archbishops of the three major churches are requesting an audience outside the temple. They say, they say, they demand an explanation from you..."

The head of the palace guards was covered in cold sweat. Although he had not participated in the banquet last night due to his status, he was still able to learn some details based on intelligence from MI9.

Although MI9 immediately stopped the spread of the information and retrieved most of the "royal scandals," the news still reached many people.

"Hahaha, an explanation? What else do they want in return!?"

George III's tone carried a hint of disappointment and frustration.

Damn it, jumping out to cause trouble at this time, if you're really that capable, why don't you make your gods the old ways?

They're all trash, utterly useless!!!

Taking two deep breaths and abandoning the fantasy of seeing God return to the past, George III calmly said:

"Isn't their goal to infiltrate the military? Go tell them that I allow Punishers, Night Watchers, and members of the Mechanical Heart to hold certain key military positions."

"Notify both houses of parliament to pass the church-amended Poor Law, Labor Law, and Religious Law as quickly as possible."

"besides……"

At this point, the crowned king gritted his teeth, and finally steeled himself to say:

"Govington Augustus II was pleasure-seeking and suffered from a severe mental illness. He colluded with some military personnel to secretly control the slave trade in the north and south continents, thereby maintaining secret contact with the nobles of Intis, Forsac, Fenneport, Remburg and other countries."

"He attempted to overthrow the entire country; he deserved his fate!"

"Just tell them that, that's it!"

Currently, the only entities the royal family can win over are the three major churches.

If they are properly courted and given up some benefits, and distanced from the slave trade, they might be able to stabilize the position of the Ruen royal family.

…………

"Gwenton Augustus II attempted a rebellion, murdered his father and mother, colluded with enemy states, and secretly manipulated the human trade spanning the northern and southern continents..."

After shaking the Honest Man's Morning Post off the table, Ron picked up the sugared liquor and took a sip, looking quite serious.

The witch beside him placed a fragrant slice of fried bacon onto the boy's plate, saying with a fawning expression:

"Master, the Luen royal family is so ungrateful. If it were me, I would have given the throne to you long ago."

The blond boy glanced at the witch with a strange expression, then nodded silently.

As everyone knows, riddle tellers are the exclusive domain of the gods in this world.

And Aria, who only knew how to flatter, guessed correctly. The reason why Ron did such a thing in public was simply to undermine the prestige of the Ron royal family, or to make them back down.

This is the most convenient and reasonable method.

Of course, Ron is a riddle-teller because he's thin-skinned.

After all, one shouldn't be too proactive in this matter; it mainly depends on whether the Ruen royal family knows what's good for them.

Besides, Ron can't exactly go around shouting, "Here's 50, give me the throne, can he?"

The blond boy put down his newspaper, a subtle, indescribable emotion flickering across his handsome face.

Finally, he slightly raised his chin and scoffed dismissively:

"How heartless of you to abandon your own son so easily. But then again, sons really do play a significant role in this world."

"Leaving aside distant examples, take that unfilial son Amon. Although he wasn't familiar with his father, he still helped the ancient sun god a lot, preventing him from being completely devoured."

"Tsk, and this King Rune too, he's shifting all the blame onto his son, making me want one myself..."

Hearing the boy's soft mutterings, Aria's light blue eyes suddenly lit up.

She stole a glance at her unbelievably handsome master, then immediately stood up and patted her chest.

It's as if it's saying, "Master, I can!"

Seeing this, Ron rolled his eyes at the witch who had been coveting his body for so long and still hadn't given up her lustful desires, and said:

"No, you can't do it. Your stupidity makes me powerless."

Feeling the gaze that seemed to want to devour him whole, Ron had no doubt that if it weren't for his status and strength, this wicked witch would probably have drugged him.

Taking a deep breath, the boy changed the subject:

"Are the things I arranged progressing?"

"Yes, Master. At this stage, we are only operating those charitable enterprises in Backlund. In Rosell's words, this is a pilot area."

"In the past two days, we've acquired a total of twenty-one small textile factories, three large chemical plants, and ten medium-sized ceramic factories..."

"These are all properties owned by bankrupt businessmen, and the prices aren't too high. If you expand on these properties, it will definitely make more people aware of your name."

"As for the factory's sales channels, we can sell to the southern continent. They can pay with money or exchange with local specialties. We have no shortage of sea routes and ships. By transporting local specialties back and forth, we can make a lot of money."

For other merchants, this is business, but for Ron, who owns a vast territory, it's simply an exchange of goods between the north and south, each getting what they need.

Transferring money from one hand to the other doesn't result in a loss at all; isn't not losing money a form of profit?

"If that penniless bastard Klein knew, he'd be crying his eyes out. Hmm, I remember he returned to Backlund pretending to be a rich man to invest and make money, but maybe he had other motives, like making contact with some high-ranking people and obtaining the sorcerer's potion recipe from elsewhere?"

Shaking his head to clear his mind of the jumbled thoughts, Ron finally focused his attention on the dinner in front of him.

He cut a slice of ham, chewed it carefully, and squinted his eyes in enjoyment.

Seeing that the topic had passed, Arya opened her mouth, but finally spoke in her bird-like voice:

"Master, I saw someone yesterday. Judging from my eyesight, she was probably a witch of demigod level."

The boy didn't pay any attention and waved his hand, saying:

"What did she say? Don't say anything useless."

Aria's expression turned unusually serious as she said, "She said she's willing to help you deal with the Ruen royal family."

"Tch~" Ron scoffed. "A demigod, helping me? What kind of lame joke is that?"

Lord Ron has always been the one bestowing gifts upon others from a high and mighty position, but this time it's the other way around.

You say helping is just a matter of a word, but for the proud Mr. Ron, it requires much more consideration.

"Master, although that guy was trying to hide it, I could sense that some of her auras were extremely familiar. I will never forget that filthy, filthy, and evil aura in my life."

"The vessel from which the primordial witch descended?" Ron raised an eyebrow, offering the most reasonable and probable possibility.

Upon hearing this, the witch looked astonished. "Master, you know her?"

"No, I'm just guessing."

No normal person could guess that accurately. Talking to you is pointless.

The suspense he had envisioned in his mind was silenced by Ron, turning what was supposed to be an interesting conversation that could bring the master and servant closer into a dry, uninteresting exchange.

It feels like finding a thousand pounds on the street, returning home with a wonderful feeling to share this good news with your family, and letting them guess the exact amount to keep the suspense and keep it interesting.

As a result, the answer was guessed as soon as the question was uttered, just like when the video suddenly froze while you were trying to solve the problem by hand.

"Tell me, how does she intend to 'help' me? Or why?" The boy raised his head, his bright golden eyes fixed on Arya. "Perhaps she has the leverage I need?"

When you feel sleepy, someone will bring you a pillow.

As luck would have it, the uniqueness of the Primal Witch is still undecided, and now an opportunity has presented itself to her.

Isn't this a kind of aggregation effect?

"Master, according to my investigation, she seems to be after a deceased prince, Edsac Augustus."

"Huh? Being a prince in Rune is a high-risk job, Hugh. I remember last year, that guy, that one, his body hasn't even decomposed yet, has it?"

"Fors is Edsac Augustus. I heard he was seduced by a witch and colluded with the Aurora Society to carry out a terrorist attack in Backlund in an attempt to seize the throne."

In a rented room in Hillston, two figures, one tall and one short, circled the Honest Man's Daily, offering their opinions.

"Oh, King Rune is so pitiful. Just how hated was he that his two sons conspired with a cult and nobles from other countries to assassinate him?"

A bestselling novelist, standing 1.65 meters tall and exuding a lazy and decadent air, gasped in disbelief, unable to comprehend how such an outrageous thing could exist in this world.

Even a third-rate novelist couldn't write a plot like this.

In a fleeting moment, she seemed to have conjured up a royal drama that challenged morality and ethics.

Perhaps the king and the prince both fell in love with the same woman, or perhaps the prince was having an affair with the king's mistress, or perhaps the exact opposite.

However, before Fors Wall could come up with any more outrageous ideas, Hugh Deercha pinched the soft flesh on her lower back hard.

"Fors, can't you think of something nice? Can't you stop having such filthy thoughts!"

The bounty hunter's tone was full of disappointment and frustration.

Upon hearing this, Fors was taken aback and then somewhat guiltily offered her explanation:

"Hugh, don't wrong me. How would you know what I'm thinking?"

However, the bounty hunter didn't give her a chance to refute, and rolled his eyes at her, saying:

"Before you say that, you should wipe your drool off. And haven't you noticed that you always make that face when you write suggestive content? I'm almost embarrassed to say anything!"

Is that so?

Is it that obvious?!

"Hahaha, how could I possibly write something like that?"

She hurriedly rubbed her face, then, as usual, chuckled and tried to get away with it by being cute.

Hugh Deercha ignored him, picked up the newspaper, and looked more intently at the news published in the Honest Man, asking in confusion:

"Fors, don't you feel that this is a bit too sudden? It's like, like you suddenly stopped drinking the day before yesterday, using the excuse of quitting drinking to cover up the fact that you had no money."

"?"

"Hugh, how can your mouth be so venomous? How can you say such cold words?"

"Damn it, I was found out so easily! After buying the extraordinary materials, I really don't have much money left before next month's royalties are settled. Maybe I should go out and run errands with Hugh; I can't let her support me."

She opened her mouth, but the writer couldn't come up with a suitable excuse. She sighed, turned to her roommate whose eyes were downcast and whose face was full of stories, and said:

"Do you believe that the fate of these two princes is related to your father's fate?"

Hugh Deercha nodded silently, then shook his head silently, leaving Fors stunned.

"It's just a gut feeling, and the charges brought by the royal family are all about treason. Generally speaking, such charges don't give the criminals a chance to refute them, so they must have touched on a very serious issue, to the point that they had to be silenced without hesitation."

Upon hearing this, Fors Wall nodded and exclaimed:

"King George III was a ruthless man."

As soon as she finished speaking, she comforted the bounty hunter beside her:

"Don't worry, Hugh, I'll definitely help you!"

I'm timid and hesitant at tarot readings, but in the real world I strike hard.

The confidence that Mr. Ron brings is that powerful.

Hillston District, Steam Train Station.

Carrying a leather suitcase, with a weathered face and dark blue-black hair that was as messy as seaweed, Alger Wilson surveyed his surroundings with a burning gaze.

"Backlund, I'm back!"

He was wearing a bishop's robe, which concealed his bulging muscles, but his muscular physique was still evident as he walked.

Although among pirates, Alger Wilson was considered a civilized man.

However, in Backlund, a metropolis where the average combat strength of the people is equal to five, the pirate captain's unique temperament was immediately highlighted.

"I hope this trip will be fruitful. No, my knowledge and abilities have surpassed what I used to know. This is a gamble, and I must seize the opportunity."

"A demigod? The Archbishop of the Church of Storms? He's nothing compared to angels!"

Having participated in so many Tarot sessions, Alger has raised his ideals and aspirations for the future a little.

Moreover, with Ron providing the potion recipe that leads directly to the angels, and with the Tarot Club, completing church missions while leisurely cruising at sea becomes less important.

After all, given his background and status, he probably has no hope of becoming a demigod in the church in his lifetime.

In that case, why not try another path?

"Fate had previously reminded me that if I wanted to take things further, I could try going to Backlund, where my opportunity would surely lie."

If anyone else had said that to Alger, he would have scoffed at it and robbed the despicable fellow who was trying to fool him, throwing him into the sea to feed the sharks.

But this is about a genuine deity, an ancient deity that has existed since ancient times.

That's why it's worth giving up the sea and returning to the city to take a gamble.

"Could this be a prophecy about me? Perhaps 'fate' foresaw something and told me in advance how divine prophecies will be fulfilled?"

"No, Mr. Fool's follower was also in Backlund before, was it Gehrman Sparrow? What are the gods plotting? What do they want?"

It's fun to indulge in daydreaming for a moment, and it's even more fun to keep indulging in it.

Whenever a thought arises in his mind, Alger Wilson quickly immerses himself in it, trying to analyze the purpose of the gods in various ways.

Just then, before all his thoughts could settle, he suddenly saw a burly, but refined-looking young man nod at him and smile, saying:

"So you're the 'captain' sent by the church?"

"To be honest, it's rare to see someone as loyal as you. We let you and the sailors drift at sea, and you actually completed one mission after another without any compromise. That's enough to prove your loyalty to the church."

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Bert Smith, a senior deacon of the Church of Storms, and I will be your superior from now on."

"Given your achievements and current abilities, the church has decided to make you a deacon, the kind who leads a small team. Keep up the good work, young man, I have high hopes for you!"

Looking at the bustling crowd around him, Alger's lips twitched slightly.

The conversation taking place in such a public setting could be considered confidential information within the church.

"Whether at sea or on land, the Church of Storms maintains the same style, and the word 'loyal' doesn't apply to me. In some ways, you're quite accurate in judging people."

May the storm be with you!

Alger slammed his right fist into his left chest and responded loudly with a look of "unwavering loyalty."

3 PM.

The crimson stars transformed into figures, filling the empty space on the bronze armchair.

Ron, who had missed a tarot session, looked around and found that there were neither many people nor few people.

Mr. Fool is still the same as ever, a complete fraud, unchanged.

"No, the Fool's uniqueness has already been incorporated into my being; under normal circumstances, I am the 'Follower Fool.'"

As Ron thought this, he glanced at Klein, who had relaxed and then tensed up again, and at Russell, who looked utterly hopeless, as if he had tried to show off but failed.

After a moment of contemplation and assumption, the blond-haired boy roughly guessed the whole picture.

"Russell was probably just showing off at the last gathering, but at the Tarot meeting, I've already covered a lot of advanced knowledge and divine secrets. He's probably like his fellow countrymen—he won't be able to show off again."

"Tsk, everyone hates Roselle, but everyone wants to be Roselle."

He silently sighed to himself, but before Ron could make any move, he heard a familiar, cheerful greeting.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Destiny~"

(End of this chapter)