In the Name of Empress-Chapter 624 - 360: Qualifications for Negotiation (Part 3)
Queen Sisi used the music hall as a cover to construct a massive underground palace, hiding the rift.
Roland launched a fierce attack without hesitation.
Neither side cared about the music hall’s historical status in the art world.
The light spear fiercely smashed into the music hall, and the terrifying collapse began.
The sturdy walls built of bluestone and granite barely withstood this dreadful attack, but other building materials couldn’t hold up at all.
Bricks flew, the foundations collapsed, and with a loud crash, the music hall finally fell.
The underground palace emerged.
A deep dark vortex quietly spun at the center of the underground palace, incongruent with the surrounding aura, like silver patterns carved on a maiden’s smooth skin, hideously ugly.
"Roland, lend me your strength!"
Christine, still floating in the air, kicked away a deadly spear and some arrows, her voice tinged with urgency.
She needed power.
The strength newly bestowed by the Goddess was indeed powerful, but it was too powerful to be precise.
She worried that the damage caused by the light’s descent would be greater than the dark.
Light is merciful, and at least shouldn’t cause a disaster equivalent to mass slaughter.
Roland’s secondary profession was Holy Knight, and holiness was the power closest to light, often directly interchangeable.
She could perfectly absorb Roland’s strength.
Roland didn’t hesitate for a moment, plunged the scepter into the ground, and began to chant.
Divine energy surged upward at an astonishing speed, the light around the floating Christine gradually expanding its range.
As the light spread, the crowd in the square finally saw the truth under the dark canopy.
Whether or not this dark power came from the Lord of Darkness, it was not a miracle; it was more like an evil summoning ritual.
The crowd closer to the music hall saw the deep rift in time and space, feeling the fear and chill spreading from their feet throughout their bodies.
Even the crowd farther from the music hall sensed something was wrong.
Loyal and brave soldiers began to disperse the crowd, organizing an orderly evacuation.
If they could manage it, a stampede wouldn’t have disastrous consequences.
Unfortunately, there were no ifs.
There was still a blood demon in the square.
An inferior blood demon acting solely on instinct, without intelligence.
The inferior blood demons are no less strong than higher-level blood demons; they just lack brains, not strength.
After all, they are forcibly cultivated blood demons, so low intelligence is reasonable.
It regained lost energy in the slaughter, growing stronger in the killing.
Just as the innocent crowd fell into despair, a gentle breeze blew across the square.
Green light particles appeared in the air like fireflies, drifting everywhere.
The green light particles fell on the blood demon’s body, quietly blending in as if an illusion.
The blood demon did not notice the green light particles.
After all, it knows no pain, no fatigue, and lacks a brain.
Mere harmless green lights can’t stop the blood demon’s slaughter.
Kill, kill, kill!
As the slaughter continued, the blood demon’s speed surged at an unbelievable rate.
Just as it was about to lose control completely, it suddenly stopped moving.
Countless thorns and vines appeared out of thin air from underground, tightly binding the blood demon’s body.
The green light particles that had fused appeared on the blood demon’s hideous face, if such an ugly humanoid creature could be said to have a face.
"Explode!"
A soft command was heard.
A beautiful figure emerged from the increasingly dense green light, her bare feet stepping onto the plaza’s stones, pristine and fair.
Sif appeared at the right moment.
The blood demon’s greatest speed was rendered null by the bind of the thorns.
Purifying a blood demon isn’t difficult; the challenge is stopping their lightning-fast speed.
But once bound, the blood demon’s life neared its end.
Such brainless blood demons held no value for capture or interrogation.
Sif walked barefoot, chanting an ancient melody with every step.
The green spread within the blood demon, and upon the detonation command, it was blown into a bloody mess, swiftly absorbed entirely by the satisfied moss.
After dealing with the blood demon, Sif turned her gaze to the music hall battlefield.
The two high tier councilors were no match for Roland and Christine, their attributes adding to their disadvantage, and soon one was killed.
Despite such a victory, there was no trace of joy on Sif’s face.
Because Roland was injured, the self-destructive attack initiated by a councilor knowing he was doomed, the shock wave foremost hitting Christine floating in the air.
Though the Pope of Light, who bore the main attack, was more severely wounded, Sif’s eyes saw only Roland.
Roland was bleeding!
Sif’s rationality vanished with the blood splattering from Roland’s chest.
She flew toward the music hall like a green blood demon.
Just as Roland was about to plunge the scepter into the rift, applause erupted.
"Wonderful, I think we should have a talk."
A soft voice sounded, and in the crowd, a member of the Dark Race unveiled his mask, revealing a face beautiful and androgynous.
The near-translucent white skin marked him as a high-level White Demon.
Sif, in a state of rage, refused to allow his intentions to babble on, her long spear tearing through space, appearing like lightning before the White Demon, aimed directly at his throat.
As the spear approached within half a meter of the White Demon, he slightly raised the corners of his mouth and casually undid his tunic.
He wasn’t a pervert baring himself in public but had something else to rely on.
Beneath his robe, there was an explosive device bound securely.
The battlefield stilled, leaving only Roland and the White Demon at a stand-off.
"This isn’t an explosive, but a special substance called [Chain]."
"Once [Chain] is activated, it can continuously spread, releasing energy in an instant that surpasses human traditional understanding; let me put it this way, the [Chain] on me can not only destroy Tirol City and incidentally kill everyone present, but it can also cause a peculiar reaction in the rift."
The White Demon spread his hands, shrugged, and said very frankly, "Honestly, I don’t even know what the rift will become after the [Chain] explodes, and I don’t care, because we’ll all be dead by then. Do I have the right to talk?"
The smugness in the White Demon’s eyes was unmistakable.
Sif was so angry her face turned pale, as white as the White Demon. She knew she couldn’t act rashly, so she sensibly stayed silent, leaving it to Roland.
Seeing Roland not object, the White Demon restrained his frivolous smile and calmly said:
"No one can stop the Dark Race from returning, not even the gods. As long as we can keep the rift, you can set the other conditions."
