Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

Today, Londinium is unusually open to the people of the entire world, and countless travelers seize this rare opportunity to explore the magnificent landscape of this city of cities, the center of the world. The blend of classical and modern, tradition and trend, is enough to feast the eyes of even the most discerning traveler.

This openness placed immense security pressure on Londinium. Infected individuals mingled among the crowds, passing through infection detection gates; desperate nomads seeking to settle in Londinium; those with ulterior motives; and heads of state and nobles from various regions eager to witness Aslan's final glory. Winster led the Unicorns to guard key routes throughout the city, monitoring every suspicious individual. Thanks to Mel, the new director of the Torein Life Research Department, commemorative medals were distributed to every outsider entering Londinium. The medals' built-in Originium detection units could clearly sense whether the wearer was using Originium Arts, and the data was collectively displayed on the monitoring screen at Big Ben in Unicorn headquarters. This allowed the Unicorns to arrive as quickly as possible, assess any potential dangers, and take appropriate action.

This is one of the benefits of modernization!

Celt and Reed, who entered Londinium, also received two identical commemorative medals. Celt disregarded the exquisitely etched medal and casually put it in his pocket, while Reed cooperated with the quarantine personnel at the gate and carefully wore the medal on his chest.

"Sister, put it on!"

Reed grabbed Celtic's hand, who wanted to leave the quarantine gate quickly, and pouted as she spoke.

Celt stubbornly retorted, "No way. It's Aslan's commemorative medal. How could I possibly wear something like that?"

"But didn't we agree to help *** get rid of those nobles?" Reed frowned her pretty eyebrows and muttered softly.

Celtic glared at him, offering a weak rebuttal:

"Helping your brother is one thing, taking revenge on those nobles is another. I'm going to burn those nobles to ashes because they dared to use the Drak royal family—a capital offense—not because I'm helping your brother!"

Reed rolled her eyes at Celt, who was still stubbornly arguing even after they'd reached Londinium. Celt's personality was truly unlikable; was this what her brother meant by "tsundere has become obsolete"?

On the way here, he kept saying, "Why was Wayne able to see through those nobles' little schemes?" "Why couldn't I?" "Why is Wayne so strong?" He even asked for many newspapers about New Wales from the villages he passed by.

My older sister is constantly learning, which is a good thing. But she did something wrong, and I don't know how my brother will punish her.

Reed watched Celt's stubborn departing figure with some worry, sighed, and quickly followed after him.

Not far behind them, Theresa and Theresis had also just crossed the quarantine gate. Like Celt, the Chairman also didn't want to wear the commemorative medal. He was a seasoned veteran; he could tell at a glance that the medal was definitely unusual. Theresis, who had never been monitored by anyone in any way, naturally resisted this act of distrust, but the sentry at the gate replied righteously:

"This is an order from the Royal Palace Office, and no one is allowed to change it!"

Therese really wanted to retort to that ungrateful sentry, "I am royalty."

But before he could speak, Theresa beside him gave him a look that shut him up: "I am royalty. I order you to wear it. We can't be the first to break the rules! This will only cause trouble for Mr. Bruce!"

Therese was speechless and could only change the subject: "With all this armor on me, where would I put my medals?"

But Theresa snatched the medal, raised a finger with a sharp glint of light at its tip, and plunged it into Theresis's expensive breastplate, piercing a tiny hole the size of a pinhole. Then, she casually pinned the medal to the breastplate. Clapping her hands, she examined it and said with satisfaction:

"That's fine. Next time I'll suggest Mr. Bruce get a magnetically attached medal."

Therese reluctantly accepted the reality of having a laughing lion hanging on his breastplate, and without saying a word, followed Theresa toward the palace with a stern face.

Walking the streets of Londinium, it wasn't exactly a scene of festive decorations, but rather a veritable sea of ​​white silk, with mourning ribbons hanging everywhere, adding an incongruous touch of desolation to this once bustling city. Several nobles who had arrived early in Londinium looked at the streets transformed overnight, their expressions varying: some beaming, some indifferent, some sorrowful, and some solemn. They gathered together, speculating about the meaning of the white silks that had been raised overnight, and could only reach the same conclusion:

"His Highness the Prince of Wales, he must have indeed died for his country."

The jubilant nobleman's expression grew even more radiant, as if the dead were his enemies, and he wished he could open a bottle of Gallic champagne to celebrate.

"Dead, good riddance. Now everything can return to normal. I'm fed up with those workers and peasants who, relying on this ignorant royal family, swagger around right under my nose. If you ask me, someone like him who goes against the grain should have died sooner!"

The detached observer glanced at the chattering man, a cold smile playing on his lips, and muttered a curt "A short-sighted fool," before falling silent. He knew the Prince of Wales' death was just the beginning; the real drama was about to unfold. Many forces previously hidden beneath the surface would surface, vying for the Prince of Wales' vast legacy—like hyenas devouring a dead lion. In this life-or-death struggle, those who chattered incessantly and failed to remain hidden would end up with nothing.

The man, his face etched with sorrow, lamented for the nation: "The Prince of Wales is dead, which may not necessarily be a good thing for us. Although he did many unconventional and rebellious things while he was alive, Victoria did indeed experience a revival under his rule. We cannot simply condemn him; we must view him dialectically. His Highness, his merits and demerits are about 70/30. The key issue is that now that he is dead, Her Majesty the Queen is all alone. What will become of the royal bloodline? What will become of the future of the nation?"

The serious-looking man glared at the grinning man through gritted teeth, itching to pounce on him and engage in a brutal duel. He was a new nobleman under the Prince of Wales, a staunch executor and beneficiary of the Prince of Wales' policies, and someone who truly still bore the original responsibilities of the noble title. He pointed at the incessantly chattering man and launched into a tirade:

"How dare you mock a great man! His Highness Wayne has done so many things that benefit the country and its people, and you dare to curse him like this? This is treason! If His Highness Wayne were alive, he would have thrown you into the deep pool and slaughtered you like a pig!"

The jovial nobleman gave a mocking laugh and retorted, "Is your Prince Wayne still alive?"

The enraged nobleman fell silent, despair settling on his face. His teeth clenched, making a grinding sound, and his expression turned serious and grave once more. He couldn't answer the question. Prince Wayne was probably indeed gone, but he simply refused to accept the fact. He turned and walked away, utterly dejected, heading straight for the hall. There, perhaps he could still see Prince Wayne's remains lying in his coffin.

Londinium, the city of cities, the center of the world, was now like a massive storm, sweeping in countless people without restraint and nurturing a myriad of emotions within it. At the eye of this storm, in the ceremonial hall of Londinium Royal Park, Wayne greeted Vina and Kal'tsit, stepped into a pre-prepared coffin, and settled into a comfortable position.

If you're going to put on a show, go all the way. Watch me show you insects what it means to rise from the dead!

Wayne closed his eyes, his thoughts gradually sinking into silence, but the Mandate of Heaven began to operate at full power. If the coffin were not completely sealed, outsiders would have seen the golden light emanating from Wayne's eyes, which had already illuminated the entire space.

This was the first time he had used his Originium Arts at full power. A vast, self-contained spiritual force began to surge wildly into the narrow outlet of the Heavenly Mandate Imperial Authority. For the first time, this outlet began to tremble. The lion within the Consciousness Empire, its forelegs crossed and sleeping peacefully, suddenly opened its eyes. Cracks spread from its head to its neck and then throughout its entire body. Its skin began to crack, and an ancient and terrifying aura began to seep out from the cracks, scattering ominous light. The vast land of the Consciousness Empire began to tremble, crumble, collapse, and sink into a void of darkness.

Wayne clearly understood the meaning of this scene. In the first life-or-death crisis he encountered after transmigrating, the demon destroyed his body and released his true self. At that time, his consciousness empire disintegrated itself just like it is now, revealing its inner core, which was like an abyss, like hell, like a natural disaster.

That was the real him; his mortal body was merely a superficial constraint and disguise. At his core was the soul of a transmigrator who had been reduced to a lower dimension, a true high-dimensional being.

The mighty Fourth Calamity itself is awakening!

P.S.: There will be another chapter tonight, but it will be a little later.

I'm also going through finals right now, with tons of papers and group projects to do, I'm incredibly busy, so updates might be a bit of a nightmare. Sorry about that.

Chapter Forty-Four: The Calm Before the Storm

Why is Londinium all white?

After wandering around the streets and alleys of Lentinium several times, Celtic couldn't help but complain to the reeds beside him:

"Lavshini, don't you know your brother very well? He loves white. Why is the whole city decorated like this? It feels so awkward."

Reed shook her head. She was familiar with Wayne, but she had never been to Londinium. The Northern King's Castle in Dublin was her true home. She had no idea what Londinium had been like before, or why it had become what it was now.

Wei Cao stopped a passerby by the roadside to ask, but the passerby only knew the facts but not the reasons. He only knew that today was the day Victoria held the ceremony to abolish the Holy Covenant, and that these white silks and satins had been hastily hung up overnight, probably as preparation for the ceremony.

The assassination attempt on Wayne was never officially confirmed. Although news broke of the expulsion of Kazimir diplomats and condemnation of Kazimir, the authorities did not provide specific details about the assassination target or the outcome. The public, naturally, was unaware of what had happened a few days prior. Only those with power and status could obtain even the slightest information about the incident from so-called "secret channels," "private sources," and "insiders" tacitly approved by Wayne.

The official Victorian government has never claimed that Wayne was assassinated or died. Everything was pieced together from rumors, a web of lies carefully woven by Wayne, with countless fish eagerly rushing headlong into it.

Not understanding what had happened, Reed could only attribute these strange decorations to special ceremonies for today's ceremony. After all, it was a grand day; after today, Victoria's throne would no longer have any other claimants, and an indisputable bloodline would rule the country eternally. On such a special day, it was perfectly reasonable to use some special decorations.

But the reeds prefer gold and brown. One is the color of Vines, and the other is the color of the earth.

Celt didn't delve into it; she asked the question merely to cover up her embarrassment. She had just realized that after wandering aimlessly around Londinium with Raphsini, she had successfully gotten lost.

Londinium, the City of a Thousand Cities, is the most expansive mobile city ever built on Terra. Within this city, streets, alleys, buildings, side streets, overpasses, and rivers combine to form a vast labyrinth. Without the expertise to use modern tools—such as smartphones—and without prior map preparation, wandering aimlessly through Londinium could easily lead to a disastrously lost journey.

In this situation, the best course of action would be to call the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) to seek help from the police, who are maintaining order in the city, but Celt dared not do that.

When the Royal Canadian Mounted Police arrive, how will I answer when they ask my name, race, and where I'm from? Draco's racial features are too obvious, and given that Deeppool and Victoria are currently hostile, any educated officer would have to lead the sisters to the station.

Fortunately, while Lavshini was away, Celtic had already come up with a solution.

A legend in Londinium tells of two things that no matter where you are in Londinium, if you look up, you'll see two things: the golden star atop the Iron Palace and Big Ben, a clock tower so ancient it's practically as old as the city itself. In other words, if you look up, find Big Ben, and keep walking towards it, the path will always extend. And once you reach Big Ben, the nearby Royal Park and ceremonial venues are not far away!

"Sister, come this way."

Reed stood at the end of the road and waved to Celt, who was still in a daze.

Celtic paused for a moment, then jogged over: "Why are you going off alone? What if you get lost?"

“But haven’t we already gotten lost? Sister, you’ve even gotten lost all the way to the East 4th District. The ceremony venue is in the Royal Park in the West 3rd District.”

Celt blushed and angrily retorted, "I didn't get lost... Can scouting enemy positions be called getting lost?" Then came some incomprehensible words, such as "investigating the enemy's city defenses," "testing the depth of the moat around the city to facilitate a sneak attack," and "infiltrating the enemy to know themselves and their enemy." The streets and alleys were filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

Meanwhile, Theresis and Theresia, naturally, couldn't possibly get lost and quickly arrived at the venue by car. A large crowd had already gathered outside, with Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Steam Armored Forces maintaining order. The park, not yet open to visitors, was sparsely populated, mostly staff and patrolling Unicorn units. Occasionally, members of the Tower of Babel could be seen in various strange spots within the park; for example, Bodracasti sat on a flower bed, while Frostnova sat on a bench—Bodracasti was too heavy, and the bench would collapse. Kroos, who had just returned from collecting money in Kazimierz, seemed to be in a trance, having set up a makeshift tent in a corner of the park, selling various drinks at exorbitant prices. And then there was Warfarin, elusive and flying through the sky.

What? He was actually tied to a rope and hung on Big Ben? And why?

Ambush a unicorn and suck its blood? Well, that's fine then. She's lucky she survived; the unicorn didn't even kill her with a single lightsaber. This kid is a real headache. Speaking of which, is there a problem with the Blood Demon race's genes, or are my two Blood Demons mutants?

Theresa couldn't understand this problem at all.

With a subtly heavy heart, she arrived at the ceremony venue. Kal'tsit glared at Theresis and helped Theresa to the backstage area. Theresa immediately tried to find Wayne, hoping to pluck his mane to regain her power, but unexpectedly couldn't find him. She looked at Kal'tsit in confusion, only to see Kal'tsit standing beside a coffin with a subtle expression, tapping on the coffin lid.

"His Highness is here."

"Huh?" Theresa blinked, not quite understanding at first. By the time she realized what was happening, Theresa had already walked to the coffin and asked curiously:

"Isn't it a bit wasteful to prepare a coffin specifically for this purpose?"

"No one will even buy you a coffin when you die, Chairman," Kal'tsit said directly and hostilely.

Therese's lips twitched slightly, a hint of pain in them, and she stepped aside: "Is he alright?"

“Of course it’s fine,” Kal’tsit said. “I don’t understand His Highness Wayne’s thinking either. He can simply come out from backstage at the time, but he insists on preparing a coffin and performing a scene of lifting the coffin. He seems to be very obsessed with this.”

Theresa, somewhat amused and exasperated, tapped the coffin lid and asked speechlessly, "Why is that?"

Only Therese looked like she understood, saying, "You guys don't understand. When you're putting on an act, you have to go all the way, even if it's just scaring people. Even if some things seem meaningless, as a man, you have to finish them. That's the fun of being a man!"

The Demon King and the lynx exchanged a glance, rolled their eyes in unison, and turned away to go about their own business.

"The ceremony will start in two hours. Get ready and find something to do."

Kelsey said,

"For example, go and greet those two from Lateran."

People from Laterano? You want me, a Sarkaz, to receive them? Aren't you afraid of causing some trouble and making your brother-in-law "come back to life" prematurely?

Therese chuckled, looking like she wasn't afraid of things getting complicated, and readily agreed:

"Wow, this is definitely my choice."

He waved his hand: "Shining, let's go, let's give the Laterano a break!"

PS: Unveiling the Ancient Faction Enemy of the Unicorns—the Bianca—the Fallen and Impure Ancients, the original inhabitants of the Clock Tower. If Aslan's alliance with the Unicorns relied on diplomacy and authority to maintain his rule, then Drak's alliance with the Bianca was purely based on force and terror. Unlike the Unicorn faction, which is fast, adept at stealth and intelligence gathering, and the pioneers of assassination, the Bianca excels in direct combat. They can easily defeat Vayvans of the same age with sheer physical strength, and their physical attributes as adults are comparable to those of Drak and Agor, who are considered the pinnacle of physical prowess. They are one of the long-lived individuals relied upon by the Deeppool faction.

Chapter 45 Are you here to cause trouble?

Londinium Royal Park, foreign visitor rest area.

Miss Michael was sprawled on the table in a very unladylike manner, her long, wine-red hair spread out on the chair and the tabletop, a strand of hair in her mouth. Her slender white fingers were twirling clockwise in the wine glass on the table. Even as Urbino, sitting some distance away, kept talking and trying to find topics to talk about, she remained silent, like a lifeless doll, constantly muttering Wayne's name.

"His Highness Wayne couldn't possibly be dead, so why are the Victorians putting on such a grand fake funeral?"

Of those temporarily residing in Lontinim, besides Theresa, who already knew the situation, Michael was the most aware of Wayne's condition. Her mental connection with Wayne remained unbroken; as a powerful user of Originium Arts with a spiritual nature, she could sense the seemingly omnipresent spiritual power permeating the air. The man was demonstrating his undisputed presence in Lontinim in this way.

This energy is imperceptible to ordinary people. Ordinary warlocks might notice that casting spells in Londinium is smoother, but they can't pinpoint the reason, attributing it solely to their improved physical condition. Even other mental warlocks, capable of sensing mental energy, couldn't possibly deduce that the gradually increasing mental power in the air originated from the same person. (To put it simply, Vayne's passive ability is granting the entire city a bonus to SP. That's what top-tier support looks like!)

This was a feat accomplished by only one person. During his return to Laterano, Michael had searched the ancient archives of the Holy See for possible sources of Wayne's exceptionally powerful spiritual energy, but ultimately found no explanation other than that of a god. However, Aslan did not belong to the divine race; their lifespan was finite, and without special tools, the longest they could live was less than two hundred years. If Wayne was not a god, then it could only mean that this man, as a human god, had accomplished the feats of a deity.

To be somewhat selfish, Michael even felt that Wayne might have surpassed her sovereign in spirit. Otherwise, how could he have so easily...

Seeing Michael bite his lip again, put his finger, which had been stirring in the red wine glass, into his mouth and suck on it, his face flushed, looking like a young girl in love, coy and reluctant, Urbino sighed helplessly and shrugged.

Since her return from Lungmen, Saintess Michael's behavior had become increasingly strange. She first flatly denied the claim of Wayne's betrayal, firmly siding with her and affirming that Wayne was a good friend of Laterano. She then began to act unusually diligently, taking over all of Laterano's high-level affairs that she had previously refused, stating that she was merely acting regent, and managing them remarkably well. Those who opposed her actions were gradually suppressed by her growing power; some were exiled to the Iberian region to serve as bishops and judges, while others retired to their hometowns, becoming resident priests in Laterano.

Here's a joke: a lifelong tenure system, where a high-ranking cardinal can retire to his hometown "voluntarily." The irony of this dark humor is no less than that of a suicide shot three times in the back.

During the period when the Pope was no longer involved in governance, Michael had clearly already shown a desire to become a female pope. Now, even if the Pope regained his senses and wanted to reclaim his power, it wouldn't be an easy task.

Of course, while Michael's behavior might be questionable, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing for Urbino. After all, Michael being on his side meant that the chances of Urbino being burned at the stake after being exposed were reduced. Michael's diligence and power-grabbing would also help Urbino smoothly rise through the ranks and seize power. As long as he played the role of this lackey well, Urbino could amass far more wealth than before.

However, one thing that made Urbino uneasy was Michael's attitude toward Wayne.