During the thirteen years of usurper King Robert’s rule, he did not always tightly grip power in his own hands, but instead shared it with officials and wealthy merchants.
Yet under their rule the Flea Nest had already become a sinful land where heresy ran rampant.
For many years the Flea Nest had been treated as a specially permitted free territory.
Northern Continentals, Imperials, and heretics could all live and do business there.
Many of the executors of the Heresy Inquisition Bureau knew that heretics held gatherings there, yet they believed heretics were merely rats that had slipped into a warehouse.
A little rat poison would be enough to kill them.
But when the warehouse doors were truly opened, what rushed out were a warehouse full of rats that worshipped the evil dragon and a bloodthirsty banshee!
When Richard and the executors gathered their courage and returned to the underground plaza, everything was already over.
Only corpses remained everywhere.
On the faces of those who had not managed to escape still lingered the terror, pain, and despair of the moment before death, twisted beyond imagination.
The executors walked forward with lowered heads, holding their breath to conceal the unease in their hearts.
Only when they saw the corpses of Abigail and Talen embracing each other in death did they simultaneously let out a breath.
In front of that building that had been almost completely dismantled, gold coins lay scattered all over the ground beside the black-clad corpses.
Richard slowly crouched down, picked up a gold coin, and carefully examined the pattern of the dragon’s head.
He smiled with satisfaction.
Although he did not know what exactly had happened here, the result was that the heretics of both the Mutual Aid Society and the Dragon Worship Cult had died in this place.
All of this would become his achievement.
What truly excited Richard the most were these gold coins.
Although no matter how one looked at them there could not possibly be the three thousand pounds of gold mentioned in the intelligence, this sum of money was still enough to be turned into favors or restraints for the various vassals of every region, paving the way for his war of succession.
***
In one corner of the underground plaza, the signboard of the Red Queen hung from a damaged wooden beam.
At this moment the doors of this tavern were tightly closed.
In the secret room of the tavern, Claire lay sleeping soundly on Flora’s knees, like a completely defenseless infant.
Flora’s fingers passed through Claire’s hair, gently stroking it.
She slightly lowered her head, the golden hair on her forehead falling and casting a shadow across Claire’s face, as if covering her with a thin veil.
Ophelia had been settled on the only small bed.
Liz took a blood bag from the simple icebox and brought the tube opening of the blood bag close to Ophelia’s lips.
Dark red blood slowly flowed into her mouth.
With the nourishment of the blood, Ophelia’s originally bloodless lips recovered a trace of color.
Liz rose and walked to the door of the secret room.
Anne was also there.
Liz slightly tilted her head and listened to the movements outside.
The sounds of iron whistles and iron boots striking the ground were growing closer and closer.
Worry spread through her eyes.
The executors were searching the entire building for every living person.
Resisters would be executed; those who submitted would be fitted with shackles and taken into custody.
Any extreme measures were legal under these circumstances.
They had been granted the highest level of law-enforcement authorization by the Religious Secrets Act.
Anne, however, remained composed, a faint smile at the corners of her mouth and a cunning light in her eyes.
“I can help you get out of here,” Anne said softly.
Liz tightly fixed her gaze on those fox-like eyes. “What do you mean?”
Anne did not avoid her gaze.
“I know you are vampires from the Northern Continent, and that your mission is to support Flora in becoming Empress of the Southern Continent. I also hope Flora can ascend the imperial throne. If you are willing to let me join this plan and agree to some conditions of mine… I will provide you with a great deal of help, for example leaving this place tonight.”
“What conditions?”
“In order to become Flora’s support, I hope you can help me bring down my two elder brothers and make me the heir of the Kingdom of Carolingia.”
Liz’s eyes widened.
“…Are you joking?”
Anne slightly raised her chin. “I know you can do it.”
Liz looked toward Flora, only to see her smiling lightly toward herself in the same way as Anne.
When Liz wanted to question the princess, Flora pointed at the sleeping Claire and made a shushing gesture.
Liz suddenly remembered that the last time the princess had impersonated Claire and come with her to the Ant Nest, she had mentioned wanting to bring Anne into the Rebirth Vessel Operation.
Liz knew this princess would not easily abandon her own demands.
She would find a way to achieve her goals.
Liz had simply not expected it to come so quickly.
Liz helplessly sighed. “We do not have the authority to make this decision.”
“Then quickly contact the people who can decide. You still have time,” Anne pointed at the telegraph machine on the table.
Liz sighed again.
This was the second time tonight she had been led by the nose by this little fox.
Yet she had no room to refuse, because the sound of iron boots was already growing closer and closer.
***
Northern Continent, United Kingdom, Londinium, Mirror Palace.
In the conference hall deep within the Mirror Palace, people of various races sat upright around the table.
Some appeared young, their refined features yet carrying the steadiness accumulated through the years.
Some were old and declining, the wrinkles on their faces like gullies carved by time.
They were the standing members of the Upper House.
For the standing members who controlled legislative power, there should have been nothing that could make them uneasy.
They appeared to sit with light and easy expressions, yet they all frequently looked toward the gray-haired young girl at the far end of the conference table.
Sibyl’s brows were tightly furrowed, anxiety showing in her eyes as she tightly stared at the telegraph machine in front of the clerk beside her.
Those who had come tonight were all members who had not clearly taken sides.
They were dissatisfied with the hawk faction’s radical war chariot, yet could not find a force sufficient to shelter them.
At the previous hearing, Veda had openly expressed her rejection of the hawk faction.
This meant that another force would form beside the Water God.
Some said they would be the dove faction standing opposite the hawk faction.
Because the Water God Veda remained unseen year after year, the actual leader of the dove faction was Sibyl.
She had invited these members tonight precisely so that they could hear the results of the Rebirth Vessel Project, in order to make them lean toward the dove faction in the future.
Yet Claire and the others had given no response for four full hours after the operation began.
The gradually passing time made Sibyl feel especially restless, because she had specially invited these members early.
She had believed that with Claire’s strength they would be able to resolve the Dragon Worship Cult early.
Finally the telegraph machine in front of the clerk produced a piercing noise.
Sibyl abruptly sat up straight.
The clerk translated the incoming telegraph code into text on a strip of paper and handed the strip to Sibyl.
She read it urgently.
It was good news.
Clearly it was a report written by Liz.
She said that the Dragon Worship Cult stronghold in the Ant Nest had already been wiped out by them.
Yet the following report went beyond Sibyl’s expectations.
She said they had encountered the Mutual Aid Society in the Ant Nest and had then been pursued by a frenzied Siren.
In the end Claire had killed that banshee at the cost of blood frenzy.
Sibyl was glad that Herta was not present tonight, otherwise a public quarrel would have been unavoidable.
Yet in truth it could not be kept from her for long either.
A Siren…
Sibyl still remembered that in the Central Plains decisive battle seventy years earlier, the Queen of Banshees with bone wings and a snake tail had been a Siren.
That evil beast had taken the lives of over a thousand soldiers on the battlefield.
It had been the holy sword of a hero that had ended her mad ballad.
If what they had encountered tonight was a Siren, how had Claire managed to kill such a monster?
There was no time for further thought.
Liz’s next segment of the report made Sibyl’s heart skip a beat.
They were now trapped by the Carolingian Heresy Inquisition Bureau in a temporary stronghold.
Claire and Ophelia had both lost their combat ability.
They had no way to break out.
Anne Normandy was willing to help them escape… but the condition was that she be allowed to join the Rebirth Vessel Operation and that they help her become the heir of the Kingdom of Carolingia.
Anne Normandy.
Sibyl knew this name, and she also knew that the owner of this name carried the reputation of a wicked girl.
Although there had long been intelligence saying she was a small schemer, how had she come to know the intelligence that Claire and the others would go to wipe out the Dragon Worship Cult?
Moreover, allowing her to join the Rebirth Vessel Operation was undoubtedly stirring a new variable into a situation that was already complex.
Besides, Anne’s condition meant that the United Kingdom would intervene in the internal succession affairs of the Kingdom of Carolingia.
At present Carolingia frequently showed goodwill toward the Southern Continent, yet nominally it was still a protected state of the United Kingdom.
If the matter were exposed it would be a complete rupture of diplomatic relations.
“Anne Normandy has put forward conditions to us. If we do not agree she will immediately expose the identities of the operation members,” Sibyl said with feigned calmness, passing the strip of paper to the nearby members.
After reading Anne’s conditions on the strip of paper, the members all frowned tightly.
“We absolutely must not agree. This will become an international diplomatic incident. When that time comes the dispute will no longer be a dispute. It might well develop into war!” one member said worriedly.
“But if she exposes the identities of Cheshire Cat and the others at this moment, Lady Veda’s plan will fall through.”
“Then quickly reply with agreement!”
The other members also began to discuss in low voices.
At that moment the telegraph machine produced another sound.
Everyone’s gazes simultaneously turned toward the clerk.
After the clerk rapidly read the content, her face turned pale.
She did not write down the content, but said in a slightly trembling voice, “Agent Dorothy says… if approval is not granted, she will kill Anne to silence her, so as to prevent the plan from being leaked.”
The moment this news came out, the entire conference hall exploded into an uproar.
“What are we to do? This is simply pushing us into a fire pit!”
“Once Anne dies, Robert will certainly not let the matter rest!”
Hulegu Aslan stood up.
His burly figure appeared especially prominent among the crowd.
His gaze firmly swept across everyone, and then he said in a loud voice, “I represent the military department in accepting Anne’s request. Although Anne Normandy has ambition, she also possesses a certain amount of power. If we can bring her into our plan, it may perhaps be helpful to our overall layout.”
Hulegu’s words caused everyone to fall into thought.
Some members who had originally opposed also began to waver.
“Marshal Aslan makes sense. The most urgent matter at present is first to rescue the agents of the Rebirth Vessel team,” one member said.
Seeing that everyone’s attitude had somewhat shifted, Sibyl knew that the timing for making a decision was exactly right.
“Then we will first agree to Anne’s request. Afterward we will draft a detailed cooperation plan and restrictive clauses,” Sibyl said.
Watching the clerk’s fingers dance across the keyboard, Sibyl secretly let out a breath of relief in her heart.
If at this moment there had been only herself, she would have long ago telegraphed agreement.
After all, the safety of Claire and the others was the most important thing.
At that moment a sudden alarm sound resounded throughout the Mirror Palace, as if a giant dragon had poked its head out from the valley of Primrose Mountain and roared.
The visiting members did not know what this alarm sound represented.
Only Sibyl herself knew…
This was the warning bell by which Dragon King Heath summoned her.
Only when the deepest secrets of the United Kingdom were involved would this alarm sound.
It seemed that tonight was destined to be a sleepless night.
Violent knocking accompanied by the loud shouts of the executors entered the secret room.
Anne, however, treated it as if it did not exist.
She looked at the telegraph code that had just arrived, the corners of her mouth rising slightly.
Anne unhurriedly tore the strip of paper into fragments, then lightly smoothed the wrinkles on her skirt.
Only then did she move with lotus steps and slowly open the door.
Richard stood at the doorway, several executors behind him.
The badge of the cross-sword at his collar flashed with cold metallic luster in the dim light.
He scanned the people inside the room.
“I have failed to welcome you properly, Elder Brother,” Anne slightly curtsied, a faint smile on her face, yet that smile did not reach her eyes.
Richard’s gaze passed over Anne and fell upon the other people inside the room.
“Why have you appeared here, and what is the matter with them?”
“They are my classmates. That one is Her Highness Flora from the Empire,” Anne’s eyes were clear and innocent.
“I originally wanted to fulfill the duties of a host by bringing the princess and my classmates to play a few rounds at this long-renowned casino. Who could have expected that we would encounter such a terrible incident… Those two young ladies were even injured.”
Richard slightly narrowed his eyes and examined Anne’s face, attempting to find a single flaw within it.
Anne calmly met his gaze.
There was not the slightest retreat in her eyes.
Richard gave a cold snort.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Claire and Ophelia before finally slowly withdrawing.
He knew full well Anne’s cleverness, and he also knew full well their father’s partiality toward her.
Moreover, at this moment the princess of the Empire was also present.
Without solid evidence he could not put forward any demands.
“Then I shall take my leave first, Elder Brother,” Anne slightly bowed. “My friends are all frightened. I must send them back.”
Richard’s gaze once more swept across everyone, and finally he waved his hand, signaling the executors to clear the path.
Anne smiled and nodded in thanks, then turned and signaled for Flora and the others to follow.
Liz carried Claire horizontally in her arms.
Ophelia followed behind with unsteady steps.
After they stepped out of the tavern, Liz’s brows furrowed slightly.
She saw the executors busily transporting the gold coins of the Dragon Worship Cult.
Those gold coins were extremely glaring in the dim light.
“It is a pity that this mission still failed,” Liz lightly sighed.
Anne, however, gave a light laugh. “I precisely wanted Richard to transport these gold coins away.”
Liz abruptly froze.
“These gold coins are counterfeit currency forged by the Dragon Worship Cult. And where will my money-hungry idiot elder brother transport the gold to?”
Anne raised her head and looked at Liz, a cunning light flashing in her eyes.
“Richard will secretly keep this money for himself. You want to use these counterfeit coins to frame him?” Liz suddenly understood.
“It is merely that someone happened to discover and report a money-hungry monk who colluded with heretics. That report letter has probably already been mailed to the Papal State by now,” Anne said indifferently.
Liz looked at Anne, a complex emotion surging in her heart.
Anne’s words indicated that she had long known everything that would happen tonight.
This undoubtedly meant that someone among them had leaked intelligence.
Anne laughed lightly and patted Liz’s shoulder. “If things go smoothly, you can count this as helping me eliminate one rival in the succession. Congratulations, congratulations.”
***
A maid was standing on the terrace of the Londinium royal palace looking at the lights of the city.
The autumn evening wind blew past, and she could not help but wrap her outer shirt a little tighter.
The night shift was very boring.
There was nothing happening in the palace and even fewer people.
She often came to the terrace in her free time to blow the evening breeze and stare into space.
The terrace on the top floor of the royal palace had been designed to be especially spacious.
This was because every year during the New Year Mass the Dragon King would reveal his dragon form on the terrace, spread his wings, and soar over the city sky to signal the beginning of the Mass ceremony.
Yet every year the engineering personnel would beforehand beg the Dragon King to slow his movements after transforming into a dragon, because the load-bearing capacity of the castle could not support the weight of the Fire Dragon King.
After every year’s Mass ceremony they had to renovate and repair the terrace.
The maid was immersed in her own thoughts when suddenly a dull rumbling broke the silence of the night, as if rolling muffled thunder had come from the distant horizon.
She raised her head in astonishment and looked up, only to see a gigantic black shadow like dark clouds covering the sky above her head.
Immediately afterward a scorching airflow rushed toward her face.
Before she could even react, an ear-splitting whoosh accompanied by a fierce wind swept over.
A gigantic existence plummeted straight down from the sky onto the terrace.
The entire terrace violently trembled.
The floor tiles could not withstand such enormous impact force and instantly cracked and shattered, fragments flying in every direction like raindrops.
In the fierce wind the maid’s eyes widened.
The gigantic figure appeared in her field of vision.
Crimson scales flashed with cold light under the moonlight.
The dragon head was held high, ferocious and majestic.
She had looked up at that figure every year during the New Year Mass, yet she had never seen it at such close distance.
That was the Supreme King of the Northern Continent and the Fire Dragon King—Heathboreas.
Within the raised dust and the flashing electric arcs, Dragon King Heath recovered the form of a youth.
Yet those golden pupils revealed deep anxiety.
He did not look at the maid and directly ordered her, “Transmit the order for Cerberus Director Sibyl and Muni Institute Director Sarianna to enter the palace. Also send a letter to Veda… say that the first part of the prophecy has already begun!”
The maid’s legs trembled.
Only with great difficulty did she stabilize her body.
She hurriedly curtsied and responded in a trembling voice, “Yes, Your Majesty!”
Then she hastily turned and ran toward the interior of the palace, nearly falling in her panic.
Seventy years earlier, Saint Queen Christine had left behind a prophecy.
Whether creating the great nation that spanned the Northern Continent, drawing in and recruiting the various races, or even the current development of new weapons such as steam armor—all of it was in order to respond to that prophecy that announced the end.
“When the ancient dragon drinks the blood of the false king, it shall
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