Vincent moved quickly through the smoke. He noticed the stench of failure first. The air was thick with ash and blood. Below, on a patch of leveled ground, he saw Kurt... kneeling in defeat...

Beside him, Sage Sean was unconscious, held captive by the grotesque stag-headed monster. In that single, breathtaking instant, Vincent's divine perception consumed the battlefield. The battle had not been a struggle, but a complete suppression. The battle was already lost.

Opposite them stood a young woman, yet the aura radiating from her was more menacing than any Rank 6 present. Judging by her exquisite cloth dress, deep purple cloak, and the ancient wooden staff in her hand, one could surmise she was a female mage who wielded arcane magic.

"It is a great honor for us to be welcomed by a Demigod like you." the young woman spoke softly, her voice sweet and clear, yet carrying an confidence and a hint of provocation.

"Angel Force". Without a word of greeting, Vincent attacked instantly. A pure-light angel in golden armor, wielding a greatsword of light, descended from the sky.

Faced with the Demigod's overwhelming opening strike, the blindfolded girl remained calm. A dark magic circle spread out from under her feet, enveloping both the stag-headed monster and the unconscious Sage Sean. "Diablo's Wings". From within the magic circle, a sphere of darkness with a single, bloodshot eye in its center appeared. In an instant, the sphere sprouted two demonic wings of bone and slimy flesh, with writhing, fresh red blood veins. It flew straight up, without a trace of fear, to confront the descending angelic image.

The powers of light and darkness clashed fiercely. The angel, with its holy power, quickly gained the upper hand, suppressing the demonic sphere. Blades of light continuously slashed, tearing its shadowy body. The demonic sphere's attacks with its Diablo wings were easily blocked by the golden angelic shield. Finally, with a decisive strike, the angel pierced through the demonic sphere, ending it.

But immediately, all the remaining dark aether of the demonic sphere gathered, condensing into a smaller ball, the size of a fist, as black as a cosmic black hole. "Black Hole". The pitch-black ball flew straight at the angel, absorbing all of its light aether, causing the angelic image to fade and then dissolve. It then continued straight at Pope Vincent, carrying the power of the void.

"Holy Judgement" - A cross of pure light appeared from the void, shattering the opponent's "Black Hole" attack. Pope Vincent had resolved the situation decisively and swiftly.

The moment Pope Vincent destroyed the "Black Hole," from the ground directly beneath his position, four magma serpents emerged, opening their maws full of sharp fangs and lunging at him from all sides. Simultaneously, from the sky, a tempest descended, its howling winds forming a vast tornado that sought to tear him apart. From within the storm, countless bolts of black lightning struck downwards, weaving a deadly cage of dark energy.

Far below, the magma serpents rode the unnatural currents, lunging at him from all angles. Boiling lava from below, a cage of lightning from above, and a raging tempest in between. It was a perfectly synchronized assault of cataclysmic power, a nearly inescapable deathtrap.

Vincent sensed three tremendous streams of aether erupting from three different directions. Below his feet was boiling lava, above his head was a lightning cage, and in the middle was a howling tempest.

He realized it immediately - three spells from three directions, too perfect and too synchronized. He thought to himself that even though they were strong, they knew they couldn't defeat him; this was a well-calculated stalling tactic.

The enemy only needed him to be held down, even for just a few minutes. And the question arose in his mind: Stall me... for what?

Even so, the ones who had just cast these spells were only Rank 6s; their power, though frightening, was still limited. This combination, though dangerous, was simply an attack aimed at holding the Demigod down, creating an opportunity for others to achieve more important objectives.

When Pope Vincent, with his demigod power, shattered all three disaster-level attacks, the casters had already used special magic to flee the battlefield. Sage Sean, who had been captured by the stag-headed monster, had also been taken away.

At that moment, from East Aerion, where General Zalogr was commanding the battle, terrible news also arrived. Archbishop Ralph, one of the spiritual pillars of Zephyros, had also been captured by another terrorist group. The attackers were withdrawing en masse from the city, leaving behind a scene of desolation, ruin, and countless innocent lives lost.

"Damn it! There was another enemy hiding somewhere, ready to support those two! You filthy rats!" Anger and frustration burned in Vincent's heart. When he intended to pursue the three Rank 6s here, a loud explosion came from Central Aerion, right in the middle of Silver Wing Castle. This made Vincent temporarily put aside the matters in North City and quickly return.

Upon stepping into the main hall, the scene before him made him stop in his tracks. "Alfie! What happened here?"

"Is he dead?" Vincent asked with a slight frown, his voice tinged with surprise as he saw Uval's corpse.

"Yes," Alfie replied curtly, his expression grim, hiding an disappointment and helplessness. He slowly recounted the recent events, about the mysterious attacker and the divine Black Sword. "He was killed by his own accomplice," Alfie explained, his voice slightly weary. "If not for the special nature of Silver Wing Castle, with its ancient defensive wards, then Uval's body would have likely been retrieved by them, leaving us with no clues."

"So, now we can't interrogate him, can't find out more about the mastermind behind all this," Vincent also felt a sense of regret. The enemy's plan was perfect; they left no openings.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Anyway, the situation in the satellite cities has temporarily calmed down. You should rest for a while, recover your strength. I will handle the remaining issues," Vincent suggested.

"Which city suffered the most damage?" Alfie asked, his voice hardening as he suppressed his anger.

"East Aerion."

"Understood. I'm going there now." As soon as he finished speaking, Alfie had transformed into a streak of light and vanished, without a moment's hesitation. It was as if he wanted to use this final battle to vent all his pent-up frustrations.

Pope Vincent remained at Silver Wing Castle. He was receiving countless streams of news from all over the kingdom, quickly processing all the information in the most efficient way possible. He ordered reinforcements to be sent to where they were needed, coordinated manpower and supplies, established rescue teams and medical aid for the victims…

This morning, at almost the same time, all four satellite cities surrounding Central Aerion were attacked simultaneously, a meticulously calculated plan.

Most notably, all the attacks shared the same script, the same method of operation. In summary, the enemy's intention was clear:

First, numerous low-level terrorists would attack crowded residential areas, causing the greatest possible chaos and turmoil, instilling extreme panic and fear in the populace. This would force the army to deploy a large number of soldiers to protect the people and defeat these attack groups, thereby dispersing the city's defensive forces.

Next, they would create many small-scale battlefronts scattered throughout the districts and neighborhoods. There were always a few Rankers strong enough to quickly eliminate couriers and soldiers on communication duty, causing information from those fronts to be delayed, unable to reach the command center in time. The key Rankers in all four satellite cities, those with the ability to command and the strength to change the tide of battle, were all given "special attention" by enemies of equal or even greater strength.

Although Central Aerion had made arrangements and defensive plans beforehand, the strength and cunning of this terrorist organization were fearsome, perhaps not inferior to the combined strength of an entire mighty nation.

Many precious sacred objects, national treasures stored in temples and secret vaults, were stolen by them. Some high-ranking Rankers, who played important roles in protecting the city, were also captured alive. It seemed that this was their true goal, their most important objective in this attack. All the riots, the disruptive attacks in other places, were perhaps just feints, actions aimed at distracting and dispersing the defensive forces of Zephyros.

Of the four satellite cities attacked, only West and South City were the luckiest. Thanks to the timely appearance and support of the Demigod Alfie, the situation in these two cities was quickly brought under control; although there were certain losses, they were not too severe.

Only the remaining two cities, East and North, were the most heavily and tragically devastated. They had lost key Rankers and been robbed of priceless treasures. The city's infrastructure was severely damaged, and more importantly, the innocent civilians had suffered great, immeasurable casualties.

About half an hour later, when the final battles in the satellite cities had ended, a authoritative voice, carrying the air of an emperor, came from outside the main gate of Silver Wing Castle.

"All four satellite cities were attacked at the same time, and the attacks also ended simultaneously. Everything, from beginning to end, took less than thirty minutes. The one who planned this event is truly a genius." A figure in a pristine, solemn white robe slowly stepped into the great hall; Alfie had returned.

"If you hadn't personally entered the fray, quickly calming the situation in the West and South cities, then those two places might have suffered the same tragic fate as the East and North," Pope Vincent sighed softly, his voice unable to hide his fatigue and sorrow.

"What is our overall situation now, Vincent?" Alfie asked, his voice low.

"I have to say… it's bad, Alfie," Pope Vincent replied, a clear sadness in his eyes. "We have lost five national treasures, sacred relics with thousands of years of history. The casualties among our people and high-ranking are grievous."

"I truly want to know, which power, which organization would dare to commit such a mad act. A direct, blatant attack on our capital. Their actions are ostentatious, arrogant, yet calculated with meticulous precision down to the last detail. Many of their actions, on the surface, seem superfluous, meaningless, but perhaps they have achieved certain objectives, gained certain benefits that we cannot yet know," Alfie said, his voice hardening, his eyes flashing with indignation and determination.

"It cannot be a single power," Vincent said, pacing before the map, his weariness apparent. "This coordination… it's too perfect, too precise. As if an invisible hand is directing everything."

Alfie, now calmer, replied: "A hand that can control Ipoz, Ronove, and even the ones in the North and East cities? How much prestige must that person have? Even Klariz or Loren couldn't mobilize such a diverse and reckless force."

"Unless," Vincent stopped, his eyes glinting with concern, "that person used not prestige, but 'benefits'. He promised each power something they couldn't refuse. The Black Societies want high-ranking Rankers and treasures, while the others… perhaps they simply want to see Zephyros burn. A temporary alliance built on greed."

"Someone who could make them all agree to such a dangerous plan? This abyss is truly too deep, too complex. If we were to simply pursue those who directly attacked, there might still be a chance of success. But to trace the source, to find the true mastermind behind it all, is almost impossible, at least for now," he gently massaged his temples, trying to ward off the fatigue and stress.

"So, it's likely this is a plan pieced together from many different parts, as the participating forces all have their own goals, their own resources, and different statuses," Alfie concluded, based on his information and analysis.

"They are linked together by a brilliant strategist, someone capable of negotiating with all those powers, able to arrange their resources to the necessary positions, and most importantly, able to offer benefits large enough to satisfy the greed of all of them."

"That's right," Pope Vincent nodded in agreement, then added, his tone a mix of admiration and worry. "I also think that someone capable of doing such extraordinary things must be a true genius, a mind that appears once in a century. Someone who can overcome the limits of their own resources, and have a comprehensive view of the entire world of Tehra… There are many things I must truly commend him for. And above all, I think that person has certainly reached the Demigod realm. Because no one, no power would trust and entrust their fate to someone who is not capable enough."

"In any case," Alfie said, his voice tinged with regret and sadness, "the fact that we were attacked so directly and tragically is for one reason only, we have become much weaker than before, weak enough to become fat prey for others to tear apart. If Larsus and Mathew were still here, still fighting alongside us, then I think no power, no alliance would dare to play tricks on Zephyros."

"Perhaps, at that time, we developed too quickly, too ambitiously, and somewhat recklessly, and inadvertently became a thorn in the side of all of Tehra," Pope Vincent chuckled self-deprecatingly, a bitter and pensive smile on his face. "When we lost those advantages, lost those pillars of strength, we ourselves became a tasty cake, a fat prey for others, for those who have always been jealous and envious of us, to have a chance to tear apart and fight over."

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