A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

The heart has many meanings, but each one proves its importance.

No one knows what Beatrix did to isolate his heart.

The heart now seems to be a completely separate part from Betley himself; even after Betley died, it continues to beat.

However, this container cannot be connected to magic arrays around the world so early; it must not be connected unless absolutely necessary.

The reason is simple: every container has a limit to what it can hold.

The same applies to Betley's heart; the amount of divine power it can absorb is limited.

Unless someone removes the ever-flowing divine power from this heart, it will probably explode in less than half a month.

Of course, even if someone takes on this job, it cannot prevent the heart's durability from declining.

However, at least the service life can be extended.

Betley couldn't test how long it could last, since he only had one heart.

It could be a hundred years, it could be ten years, it could be a year.

No one can guarantee when the deadline will be.

The heart can only be used for a very short time, which is why Beatrix said it was a way to prolong the life of the Dark Iron race, rather than a way to save them.

"Perhaps... now is the time when we have no other choice," the priest murmured.

This house was also equipped with a magic array capable of absorbing divine power, and its complexity was even more terrifying than that of large magic arrays around the world.

Perhaps because this was Betley's most important home, he did it anyway, even though it was pointless.

But because of this, the concept of housing has not yet been applied to housing.

The priest took a pocket watch out of his clothes and opened the cover.

This pocket watch is a pair with the one Betty always carried, but the photograph is black and white instead of color, and there are scorch marks on the edges.

At the last moment, Betley still kept it a secret from everyone, leaving the Black Iron Clan with this lifeline.

Jonathan would never have imagined that Beatley would start doing this kind of thing while traveling.

"May your name be found someday," Father Thun said softly, pointing the photograph at the blue heart.

The black and white photograph was gradually filled with color, and the scorch marks gradually disappeared.

The pointer in my arms spun rapidly.

"Click—" The pointer suddenly stopped, and a sound rang out.

This is the sound the hand makes when it strikes the hour.

With that brief sound, the magic circles throughout Kapras began to slowly rotate. Huge magic circles began to appear in almost every corner of the world.

The magic array, which was originally buried deep underground, now appears before people.

Of course, no one will explain to everyone in the world what this magic circle is for.

If you don't make good use of it, you can only say you're unlucky.

After all, this is a precision instrument without an instruction manual, and it takes time to properly understand its principles.

The priest could only hope that there were intelligent enough people in each place to quickly understand the function of these magic circles and realize their importance.

Even if you escape into the magic circle, it doesn't guarantee your survival, but at least you have a chance to live.

“I hope you can escape safely inside,” the priest murmured as he sat on the steps in front of the Betley house.

The area of ​​one or two thousand square meters around the house was covered by a circular array.

Then the inner city was also covered by an even larger circular array.

However, there is no overlap or intersection between the two.

The priest sitting here seemed isolated.

To get to the nearest magic circle from this house, you might have to walk two or three kilometers.

Under these circumstances, it is indeed unrealistic to go that far.

However, the priest's expression showed no sign of anxiety.

He was naturally aware of his current situation, or rather, he had long anticipated it would turn out this way.

Father Thun turned the pages of his book, one after another, waiting for something.

This book is a religious text that was found in Beatrix's basement.

Besides this one, there were countless other religious texts, but the priest only picked one up to pass the time.

This seemed a bit impolite, so Father Thun decided to treat it as a reward for helping Beatrix fulfill his wish for free.

In this way, you won't have too much of a burden on your mind.

“Gadell the Old Man of the Lamp…” The priest muttered to himself as he stumbled upon a few words about “Gadell the Old Man of the Lamp” in the church book.

Then, he gently closed the book and placed it on the table in the room.

After going outside again, Father Thun hung the "Blood Lamp" near the door and dusted himself off.

"BOOM!!!!" The surrounding ruins exploded, as if a heavy bomb had detonated on the spot.

The loud noise made Father Thun's eardrums ache.

"Has it finally arrived?" The priest raised his eyelids, which had been lowered, and muttered to himself.

What he had been waiting for finally arrived.

The air outside the magic circle became viscous.

This is not a metaphor; it truly becomes viscous, like a gel.

"What a nuisance, the Black Iron race does nothing but this kind of boring thing." A harsh, unpleasant sound, like metal rubbing against metal, came as the scenery in the priest's field of vision was flattened.

A silver-colored creature stepped into the magic circle, speaking the common language in an ancient accent.

He was like a wild boar covered in thick, long hair, emitting an endless stench.

Anyone who gets close to Him will be infected with a vicious plague.

His reddened eyes were covered by dense fur, with only a sharp red light able to penetrate the long hair.

With every step you take, disgusting liquid drips down, polluting the ground.

He was not particularly willing to come and destroy such a seemingly fragile place.

But He had no choice but to come.

From the moment the hands of the pocket watch began to turn, the fate of the Black Iron Seed, which had been frozen in place, began to turn again.

Many Silver Seeds in the Imperial Capital have keenly discovered that as long as they are inside those massive magic arrays, their conceptual abilities become almost unusable.

Although they do not rely on concepts, the Silver race still possesses unique abilities, but those abilities are not enough to cause excessive despair.

They were severely restricted within the magic circle, and felt extremely uncomfortable when they tried to move.

The concept was absorbed by the magic array in the imperial capital and then flowed to a place near them.

Not only in the capital, but concepts from all over the world have been absorbed and flowed here.

With just a little thought, one can understand that the core is where all the absorbed concepts converge.

However, the core area was much simpler than imagined, not at all luxurious.

This thing, which could determine the life or death of the entire Black Iron race, is just left lying around?

The first silver-ranked person to arrive here was filled with doubt.

Even though He wasn't a highly intelligent person, He understood that something was wrong.

If something concerns one's life, He will surely cherish it and take good protective measures.

It would never be placed like this in such an ordinary house.

After hesitating for a few seconds, He raised His forelegs high and let out a thunderous roar.

All it takes is one step, right? Such a small place, He doesn't even need to exert any effort to flatten it.

Forget about the barriers of the Black Iron race; He never took the Black Iron race's magic seriously from the start.

Those supposedly profound spells are often less powerful than a single kick from Him.

"Boom!!!!" But the next moment, He suddenly lost his balance and fell straight to the side.

Before His forelegs could even touch the ground, something struck Him hard.

"What the hell is that?!" the Silver One roared in extreme anger, its eyes beneath its long hair constantly searching for the object that appeared to be the attacker.

Finally, He managed to see a small, dark figure.

It was only because of the light of a certain lamp that He noticed such a tiny figure.

Calling it an ant might be a bit of an exaggeration, but compared to it, this thing is at best no better than a mouse.

After getting up from the ground, He charged savagely at the black figure.

A simple, effective, and brutal attack method.

Even a fortress could be pierced through by His attack.

The figure dressed in black grew larger and larger in His vision as He charged forward.

In His sight was the priest, a shaman who knew that the Silver Seeds would be visiting.

Father Thun gazed calmly ahead, showing no sign of panic in the face of the wild boar that was estimated to be able to smash through the city wall.

Everything went exactly as Betley had predicted. Before Betley's heart could be overloaded, the Silver Seed was unable to use the concept smoothly within the magic circle.

Father Thun felt the ground tremble, silently took a few steps, and walked a distance away from the house.

He stood in the narrow space between the outer edge of the magic circle and the house, his right hand clenched into a fist, his left hand unconsciously touching the ancient ring that shimmered with a dim golden light.

"Boom-"

Father Thun slammed his right fist into the Silver Seed's face.

The massive impact caused Father Thun to slide backward a distance.

Then the silver-haired creature was brought to a sudden stop by the punch, and blood continued to seep from its head.

“This road is closed to traffic…” Father Thun said, shaking his hand, and his fractured wrist was instantly healed.

Father Thun never felt that violence had much meaning.

Unfortunately, in many situations, we have to resort to the same violence when dealing with people who enjoy violence.

Just as a robber cannot be easily persuaded with words, in the end, without enough power to protect himself, others will still steal what they want.

A robber who is willing to listen to others' lectures is rare; after all, someone who is willing to listen to lectures is unlikely to become a robber.

Of course, it's quite common to find a bandit who's beaten so badly that he's willing to listen to a lecture.

Thun doesn't like power, but he needs power, he needs a power that he can use when necessary.

To protect something, you have to destroy something else.

Just like protecting your own life, you need to hurt the person who attacks you.

This is a problem that cannot be bypassed.

But there's no need to dwell on it too much, because everyone in this world has something "more important" in their heart.

For example, one's own life may be more important than someone else's.

For example, a close relative is more important than a commoner from an enemy country.

People are inherently selfish; no one is immune to it.

Even the most generous person has selfish tendencies.

Father Thun knew himself to be just as selfish as anyone else.

He is not a good person; he still harbors hatred for his past enemies.

He wouldn't be a saint either, because if he had to choose between children in a church and strangers, he would choose the children.

"What on earth is wrong with you, human?!" the silver creature uttered a distorted voice, its head cracking open with the blow.

He is a Silver Race, a demigod who has mastered concepts, how dare a mere inferior race treat him like this!?