Raphael remained calm and nodded matter-of-factly. "Yes, I can confirm that tomorrow will be foolproof. Flame Fist may have thought they had a brilliant plan, but in reality, they've taken a giant step towards destruction."

“Some say the devil never lies, others say the devil is the best liar.”

Grand Duke Valakon sat on the throne without saying a word. The red-robed wizard continued bluntly, "So, which type are you?"

Raphael took a sip of the tea on the table. "The secret to conversation is to tell the other person what they want to hear. So, I have only one thing to say now - we each get what we need, there's no need to attack each other. I have no reason to betray you."

"Maybe." The red-robed wizard Nickman replied indifferently.

The Cyran stood up, glanced at the silent Grand Duke Valakon, and said, "If it were any other Cyran mage, the fire of ambition in their chest would probably burn fiercely, hoping to seize everything in the chaos that follows - but I am different. I only ask for one thing: I want Apodel to disappear from this world. Beyond that, I don't care."

"So, Baatezu, I demand your absolute assurance—I don't expect to see his face again after tomorrow."

Raphael calmly replied, "If I cannot do this, let me be thrown into the River Styx and transformed back into the lowest maggot."

"Very good." Master Sel received the promise, but he did not show any excitement. He just said calmly, "I hope we can all get what we want tomorrow. Master Sel almost never cooperates with others in such a deep and equal manner. I hope that this exception of mine will bring good results."

Looking at the old wizard's back, Raphael sighed slowly: "With concerted efforts, success will come naturally - I hope so."

He turned and said, "Varaken, I hope you have already started the action on your side?"

Grand Duke Valakn was silent for a long time before finally answering, "The Sharptooth Forest has replied: their support will arrive tomorrow. We previously agreed with Korhal that when the signal is given, the flooding of the Chongsa River will carry the entire Wyvern Rock into the Sea of ​​Swords, potentially blocking Baldur's Gate."

As if in response to his words, a flash of lightning suddenly flashed in the sky above Baldur's Gate.

A moment later, deafening thunder broke through the moist sea breeze, and little Calinshan rushed around in the high walls, making the windows creak.

Raphael let out a long breath and opened the window. The drizzle fell on his face and almost instantly turned into steam.

He didn't take it seriously, but sighed sincerely: "-Finally, there is some good news."

Having said that, he pursed his lips and said, "In that case, we have no choice but to put everything on the gambling table."

******************************

The deafening sound of thunder naturally reached the Wangyang Tower.

Karkoros gazed at the northern sky and sighed with emotion, "It's thundering again... Between Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep, only this summer thunder and the sound of the tide are somewhat similar."

However, mercenaries are generally rough and tumble people, and this fact cannot be changed much in Wang Yangta's command heart.

Carl Ola said bluntly, "—My noble lord from Waterdeep, it's your business if you don't want to help. Could you please not be so melancholy while I'm busy settling accounts? It makes me feel like I'm the only one doing the work."

"You're counting money until your hands cramp, and you're still complaining?" The deputy marshal snorted coldly. "I'm worried right now—I don't think I'll ever become a marshal. I really have no interest in this position. How can I keep this paladin, Apodel Adrian, here..."

"Ha, I have absolutely no hope," replied the Flaming Fist's steward, buried in his account books. "If you truly owe him gratitude, you might as well keep him away from Baldur's Gate. The two great heroes of Baldur's Gate were not from the same background. Baldur's was a heroic pirate, while Apodel Adrian was a holy knight who punished evil. He has no reason to stay here for long. It would be better to simply owe him a favor and be at his beck and call from now on."

"You're well aware of the ethos of our Flaming Fist. While we haven't quite degenerated into banditry, it's no secret that Flaming Fist soldiers are abusing their power to make a little money. And the ethos in Baldur's Gate is only worse. God knows how shady things are beneath the silken gloves of those merchants! Under such circumstances, a paladin has become a Flaming Fist Marshal and Grand Duke..."

Carl Ola imagined the scene and shuddered: "The entire Baldur's Gate will be blown to the sky."

Karkoros snorted coldly, "I'm glad to see it happen. I'm really annoyed by all the soft-hearted people in the Flame Fist."

At this moment, a look of astonishment appeared on Karkoros's face: "...The sun rises from the west today?"

"Huh?" Carl Oula looked up from the pile of papers. "What happened?"

Karkoros's originally relaxed face was instantly filled with confusion. "...the people who drank the swamp water in Chultri asked me for help."

"They begged me to go to Chult immediately to relieve them."

"And... they have to leave as soon as possible. They also said that if they don't see my face by noon tomorrow, Wangyang Tower can prepare to collect their bodies."

Eighty-eight One soldier divided into two

Today, the morning at the Witch Grocery Store was a little unusual.

This should have been a place isolated from the noisy lower city of Baldur's Gate by its height, but just last night, it was noisy all night long.

The intermittent rain washed the Mage Tower all night long, and the dull yet still loud roar of thunder seemed to be very close to the Mage Tower.

The intermittent thunderstorm finally came to an end when the sun was halfway up in the sky.

“——Ah!!! What the hell is going on?!”

Sig wailed, clutching his head as he rushed out of the room. "Although the weather in Baldur's Gate isn't great, it's never been this continuous! It was sporadic at first, but from the second half of the night on, the thunder has been roaring non-stop over and over overhead! Why is that?! Is this tower particularly susceptible to lightning strikes?!"

She was one of the last people to wake up in the tower. As a result, when she walked out of the room, she saw an old and a young paladin wearing ordinary daily clothes, surrounding Emilia's door, looking as if they were facing a great enemy.

Sig blinked. "...What are you doing? Where's Miss Imoen?"

"The two of them..." Apodale pondered for a moment and finally came up with an appropriate wording, "They are resting."

"Oh my god...the two of them...are they playing such a big game?" Sig replied casually, then looked at Yin's door in astonishment.

The door was wide open, and there was no one inside.

So where is she now? The answer is obvious.

It's exciting, but considering this is Faerun, this development seems normal.

Sig shook his head violently, regaining his composure. "No, no, no, I'm asking, what are you doing in front of Emiya's house? Even if Yin might be inside, wouldn't... does the scope of the Paladin's law enforcement also include enforcing chastity now?"

"How is that possible? Even the goddess of love, Sune, has paladins!" Apodel Adrian waved his hand in exasperation. "But the noise disturbing the neighbors late at night is a problem!"

"......?" Sig's eyes flickered. "I didn't hear any rocking sounds over here last night. It was all drowned out by the thunder in the sky."

Mars replied muffledly, "The problem lies in the thunder. Last night, the thunder that lasted for several hours occurred directly above the Mage Tower. I don't think this is a coincidence."

"So that was Emilia's magic experiment all night?" Thinking of this, Sig was silent for a moment, and suddenly stretched out his hand between the two of them: "—Wait, wait until I go back to the house and get the gold bricks before opening the door!"

"Wait a minute, we're not really going to do anything to him." Apodale sighed. "Ms. Sigg, you have good hearing. Could you please help me confirm if there's any movement in the house right now?"

Sig was silent for a moment. "The sun really rises from the west. Is there a day when a paladin will take the initiative to let the bard eavesdrop?"

"...Although I'd like to take this opportunity to make a few jokes..." Apodel waved his hand, "But actually, that's not entirely true. I have some ideas about the cause of last night's thunder and lightning. If Emilia is using the Celestial Wrath as research material, then the risk is probably not small—"

"Among the weapons I gave him, the most unique and dangerous one is probably the Celestial Wrath over there." Apodel sighed, "I need to confirm now that the reason this guy's magic experiments stopped isn't because he's turned to charcoal."

"Then why not just knock on the door?"

"We didn't hear an answer."

"Why not just open the door?" Sig grinned. "What if I put my ear to it and a thunderclap hits the wall right away? I might go deaf!"

"Well, that's fine." Apodale pondered for a moment and waved to his students.

The two strong paladins put their hands on the door handle and turned it slightly.

Then, both of their expressions changed.

Mars's face immediately turned serious, and he whispered, "...Strange, the door is a bit...heavy. It's like something is pressing on it. Is there something heavy in the bedroom?"

"Don't ask me. I've never been to this Mage Tower before." Apodel hesitated for a long time. "What on earth is Emilia doing in there?"

However, staying in front of the door all the time is obviously not a solution.

Apodale hesitated for a moment, then put his ear to it again. "...There is indeed no sound. Mr. Emiya, are you awake now?"

After confirming again that there was no response, Apodel gritted his teeth and exerted force with both hands.

Then the door slowly opened.

The sound that rang out was one they had never expected.

There was a clattering sound, as if something was rolling.

There was a rustling sound, almost like scales colliding with each other, which gradually became one as they opened the door.

The power that had been barely noticeable swelled with the crash of a torrent to a point where it was nearly unstoppable. If the master and disciple hadn't both been exceptionally strong men, the door would have been forced aside in an instant.

Apodel sighed and stood still, holding the door firmly. He turned around and wanted to ask the bard beside him what had happened.

But in this short moment, the heavy object that was pressing on the door had already poured out like a flood.

The Celestial Wrath was one of the most beautiful weapons Apodel had ever seen—the leather handle was inlaid with pearls large enough to serve as a counterweight. The long scabbard was patterned like dragon scales, its slate-gray veins gleaming with blue and purple.

Even in his experience, he had never seen a weapon like it. He had once specifically researched the origins of this divine weapon and learned that, according to legend, it was a razor-sharp katana forged by a Far Eastern lord to slay a vicious dragon named Celestial Wrath. The lord led the charge, wielding the eponymous blade and slaying the dragon, imprisoning its soul within the blade. From then on, the two Celestial Wraths merged into one.

Flesh became the blade, dragon hide the scabbard, and the dragon's power and fury were imbued in the steel.

From then on, as long as the holder unsheathed the long sword, a storm would come as expected, thunder would roar in the sky, and heavy rain would instantly submerge the holder's location.

However, the holder himself will rely on the power of the sword to be immune to lightning and rainstorms.

Obviously, such a weapon should be unique.

However, this common sense has been broken.

Rolling out from behind the door was a gray-black flood.

Countless wraths of the Heavenly Saints rolled and clattered onto the ground from behind the door. The huge, glittering pearls collided with each other like ordinary stones, and lightning-like light flashed in the gaps of the dragon-scale-like scabbard.

There is almost no difference between them.

It was as if these Heavenly Holy Furies were not some divine weapons carrying great legends, but mass-produced goods that even the blacksmith shops in the villages could forge.

"...What a joke." Mars lowered his head in shock and tried to pick up one of them tentatively.

But before his hand touched the hilt of one of the swords, a faint arc of electricity appeared between his fingers and the hilt.

It was clear that the knife did not welcome the paladin's touch.

Apodel frowned and stepped hard on the other blade, and the sharp blade deflated immediately like a balloon.

This one is clearly an unfinished product, flawless only on the surface.

"...a test subject." The old paladin sighed. "On the first night after the great victory, he actually chose to conduct a whole night of magical experiments."

************************

"…Emia?"

"Emya!"

Amidst the repeated calls, Emilia reluctantly opened her eyes, which were almost glued shut, and used her dried-up brain to decompose the tone she heard: "Mr. Apodale?"

"It's me," the old paladin sighed. "You're clearly tired. Normally, I should let you get some more sleep. But I sincerely suggest you find a different sleeping spot."

"...Hmm?" Emilia repeated hesitantly, "Did I fall asleep? I remember repeating it over and over again... and then suddenly I didn't know what happened."

"Oh." Apodel was silent for a moment, then he moved the pile of Heavenly Saint's wrath that was pressing on Emilia aside and said again, "So you fainted from exhaustion. Then you should find another place to faint."

"...Uh." Emiya covered the back of her head that was about to split open and struggled to open her eyes, "Uh, where's Yin?"

"She's sleeping soundly next to you right now! And you two haven't even taken your hands apart yet!"

"Is it?"

Emiya stretched out his hand to open his eyes, but in a daze, a soft hand was thrown directly on his face, making him see stars.

At this moment, he finally realized the true meaning of "the hands have not yet separated."

Relying on the pain, he barely regained some observation and thinking abilities.

What caught his eye was the wrath of the Heavenly Saint, which nearly reached the ceiling. The blue-purple glow of the scabbard seemed to merge into one.

In short, last night was a hellish assault that completely disregarded physical strength and energy.

Imitate, imagine, implement.

There was no clear idea, just almost stupid trial and error.

By the second half of the night, he could no longer think clearly about what he was doing, and was just repeating himself rigidly.

"I am really convinced." Apodale sighed.

The entire room was now filled with the Heavenly Saint's wrath, leaving no place to stand even on the ground. Apodel could only maintain his balance on his scabbard. "I'm moving you to the empty room now. You two should continue sleeping there. Also, you better return my weapons. I'm worried you'll die of exhaustion here."

However, having said this, Apodale looked around.

At this moment, he really couldn't tell which weapon was the real one and which was the prototype. If this continued, he might have to use dispel magic to dispel all the earth weapons here before he could find his target.

"...Oh, oh. You want your weapon back." Emiya muttered, rolling her eyes and handing over the nearest samurai sword. "This one is the most powerful. Most of the ones here are failures. Apart from the appearance, they only succeed in reproducing some of the characteristics. This one should be it."

Apodel quickly took the Celestial Wrath and prepared to drop it into the dimensional bag at his waist. Anyone not as obsessed with chaos as Celestial Wrath would have received a severe electric shock if they had even briefly grasped it. While Apodel wasn't immune to the blow, he didn't want to be hurt for no reason.

"No problem, this is it. When I grasped the hilt, I could hear the magical intelligence within it mocking my pedantry." Apodel shook his head. "So, do you want to rest for a while and go to an empty room? I don't think a bed covered in swords is suitable for rest."

At this moment, Yin finally woke up.

She struggled to yawn and put her hand on her back: "What is that? My waist hurts."

As she spoke, she casually pulled out a slender samurai sword from under her body.

That was another wrath of the Heavenly Saint.

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