NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1171: Cult Leader
In a secret plane somewhere in Europa, a land touched by death and decay stretched endlessly. At its center, a black Magus tower rose from the ground like a spear, piercing the skies of this mystical dimension.
On the top floor of this tower was a throne room, vast, oppressive, shrouded in darkness. Rows of black stone pillars supported the chamber, their rough surfaces marred by the passage of time.
At the far end of the throne room, on a raised dais, stood an obsidian throne. Upon it sat a lich in dark robes, wearing a black crown, his skeletal frame draped in stygian, ominous energy.
This was the most powerful Magus on Tron.
This was… the leader of the Cult of Bones.
Flanking him on either side, four figures stood below the dais. Draped in hooded robes and radiating vast and powerful auras, these were the Elders of the Inner Circle, each at the peak of the Mana Core Rank.
They stood silent and motionless, their gaze fixed on the man kneeling before the throne.
Marden Benton kowtowed before the lich sitting on the obsidian throne, his forehead firmly pressed to the cold floor.
No matter how many times he visited the man… the lich, he couldn't help but shake off the dreadful feeling of being in the presence of someone utterly unfathomable. He himself stood at the pinnacle of the Mana Core Rank, yet he was certain that he couldn't compare to the Cult Leader.
If not for the mana ceiling in Tron, perhaps the Cult Leader would have long since stepped into the domain of the Mana Seed Rank!
"Rise, Marden."
The Cult Leader's cold and heavy voice echoed in the throne room, sounding like thunder in the ears of the Elders present.
Marden rose to his feet, yet he kept his head lowered. He didn't dare to cast his gaze upon the unholy existence that was the lich. His lips parted, and he calmly said:
"I stand before you again, my lord, ready to serve as you see fit."
The lich rested his elbow on the throne's armrest, his bony hand supporting his chin. He deeply looked at Marden for a long time, then coldly said:
"Where is Adam Constantine?"
"He will come to us of his own accord," said Marden, bowing his head slightly. "I assure you, my lord."
Suddenly, the temperature in the throne room fell drastically. The Elders standing near the lich shuddered. Marden, on the other hand, was viciously pressed to the ground by an unseen hand.
Then, the lich's cold and ominous voice sounded in the throne room once again:
"Do not make me repeat myself."
Marden's knees slammed to the ground, forcing him to once again kneel. He didn't dare to resist, however. Such defiance would be an insult to the Cult Leader. But more than that… any sign of disobedience would surely mean his death!
He gritted his teeth and answered, "I do not know his exact location, my lord. He should have already reached Europa, or… or he must be on his way. I assure you, my lord! He will come to us of his own accord!"
The lich remained silent for a while. Then, he asked, "Why didn't you bring him yourself?"
"Adam Constantine is a headstrong and stubborn individual. Had I forced him to come with me, I believe he would have killed himself! He already senses that the Cult needs him alive. So, he would have done everything in his power to foil our plans… even commit suicide!"
"So you placed a seed of doubt in his mind through the Forgotten Rune," the lich coldly murmured, "making him believe he has always been one of us."
"Yes, my lord!" Marden muttered through gritted teeth. "He was always the primary target of the Forgotten Rune. The survivors of the Battle of Ravenfell… they were merely collateral. My true target had always been Adam Constantine!"
Silence descended upon the throne room. Almost half a minute later, the invisible pressure finally disappeared. Sensing that, Marden couldn't help but secretly heave a sigh of relief. However, he still remained in the kneeling position.
"Very well," the lich coldly said. "You have achieved two of my three orders. Ravenfell lies in ruins, and though Saratoga Castle still stands, the consequences of your actions have served my purpose. As for Adam Constantine… I will consider this order fulfilled the day he comes knocking at my door."
The lich's tone turned colder and more dreadful. "But what of my third order? Why is there no death zone in the northeastern board of Ulier?"
Marden remained silent for a long time, deliberating over his words. At last, he said:
"My lord… someone saw through the Forgotten Rune I had placed around Corvid Quarter. They were able to foil my plans. That district, along with the million and a half infested, was destroyed by the explosives. There was nothing I could do. Please… forgive me."
"…I see." The lick nodded ever so slightly. "Someone seeing through the deception of the Forgotten Rune… even I hadn't accounted for that."
The Cult Leader was cold, calculating, and terrifying beyond measure. He stood at the pinnacle of strength in this world, dauntless and seemingly unopposed. Supremely confident, yet not infallible, he wielded immense power while still recognizing the limits of his own foresight.
Marden couldn't help but feel relief wash over him once again. He humbly replied, "Thank you for your understanding, my lord."
At last, the lich asked about the question that mattered most:
"And what of your kin, Marden? Do they still draw breath?"
Marden involuntarily clenched his fists, an act that did not go unnoticed by the Cult Leader or the other Elders in the throne room.
"…They are dead," he murmured. "I killed them with my own hands."
Unlike the other Elders, Marden did not practice necromancy. As a result, the Cult Leader had less control over him than over the rest. But by ordering Marden to slaughter his own family, the Cult Leader had ensured, beyond any doubt, where his true loyalty lay.
"Cruel as it may be," the lich began, "you did your kin a favor, Marden. It is better that they died by your own hands than to become foot soldiers for the devils in an eternal war against the demons…"
Those few simple words caused not just Marden, but also the rest of the Elders to slightly shift.
Foot soldiers for the devils?
In an eternal war against the demons?
What did it all mean?
Of course, the Cult Leader offered no further explanation. He gestured for Marden to rise, then said in an even tone:
"You have proved your loyalty to me, and for that, I shall reward you. Tell me, what is it you seek?"
Marden bowed humbly, concealing the cunning gleam in his eyes. Then, he said in a respectful tone:
"I wan't nothing, my lord… nothing but to serve you."
The lich intently observed Marden, then offered a nod.
"Very well," he said. "Since you have just returned from enemy lands, take a few weeks to rest. While the others prepare for war, I want you to visit the six portals and reinforce their rune magic."
The lich paused for a moment, then added, "I will grant you access to my personal vault. Take whatever you desire."
"Thank you, my lord!" Marden bowed even deeper.
Soon, the Cult Leader dismissed the Elders, leaving only himself seated on the dark throne. A cold, suffocating aura filled the vast chamber, and his eerie voice, barely more than a whisper, echoed through the shadows:
"The Beyond… the Beyond… the Beyond… it calls to me…"