The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family-Chapter 221: Preparations

The Grand Sanctuary of the Icarus cult extended far deeper beneath Verath than even its most devoted initiates knew. Seven levels below the common ritual chambers, a vast circular hall opened like a wound in the ancient bedrock. Here, bathed in the amber light of thirteen eternal flames, High Priest Valen addressed the assembled cell leaders—thirty-nine men and women whose faces bore the ritual scars of their absolute devotion.

"Three thousand years of preparation culminates tomorrow night," Valen declared, his voice carrying effortlessly through the cavernous space. The Mark of Icarus pulsed on his forehead as he gestured toward the massive tactical display dominating the center of the hall—a perfect scale model of the Rikxia Empire, crafted from obsidian and bone.

"For generations, we have infiltrated every level of imperial society. We have accumulated knowledge, positioned our faithful, and awaited the prophesied sign." His fingers traced the miniature representation of the Lionhart Estate at the empire's heart. "When the Worthy One emerged at Northwatch, when Gluttony manifested through the vessel, the Thirteenth Revelation was fulfilled."

Sister Myrith stepped forward, her ritual-scarred face impassive despite the momentous occasion. "Our purpose now becomes action. The extraction of the Worthy One requires unprecedented sacrifice."

At her signal, thirteen acolytes unveiled a series of black crystal pillars arranged around the chamber's perimeter. Within each, a swirling crimson energy pulsed like a heartbeat.

"The Synchronization Artifacts are complete," she announced. "Each contains the bound essence of two hundred faithful who have ascended to Icarus's embrace during the preparation rituals. When activated, they will link all operational cells across the empire, allowing for perfect coordination regardless of distance."

Valen moved to the tactical display, where red markers had been positioned across the model's surface. "Forty-seven percent of our total strength will participate in the diversionary attacks. Twenty-four simultaneous strikes against population centers, beginning precisely at the second bell."

He touched the largest marker, positioned at the imperial capital. "Brother Mortus will lead the primary diversion here, at the capital itself. Five thousand of our faithful, plus three thousand unwitting vessels."

An ascetic figure stepped forward—his body so scarred by ritual markings that little original skin remained visible. "The Rite of Unwilling Ascension has been performed on the selected vessels," Brother Mortus reported, his voice rasping from vocal cords damaged in devotional ceremonies. "Three thousand civilians now carry the Seeds of Icarus within them. At the designated hour, the seeds will activate, converting their life energy into purifying flame."

No one among the assembled cell leaders showed discomfort at the mass sacrifice of innocents. After three millennia of devotion to Icarus's teachings, they understood the necessity of destruction before salvation.

"The capital attack will force a response from all the major armed groups," Valen continued. "The Rikxia Empire maintains over a hundred armed divisions across its territories, with the Seven Elite Divisions—including Éclair and White Lion—serving as their most powerful forces. Meanwhile, twenty-three secondary cells will strike these provincial targets simultaneously." His hand swept across the model, indicating market towns, transportation hubs, and military outposts spread throughout the empire. "Every available imperial resource will be committed to containment and response."

Sister Myrith returned to the display, pointing to a specialized device positioned beside the Lionhart Estate model. "During this chaos, the extraction team will approach the estate from beneath. The primary challenge remains the Frost Chamber's defenses and the extraordinary individuals protecting it—particularly the Ice Monarch himself and his enforcer, Melo."

She lifted the device—a crystalline disc inscribed with runes of such complexity they seemed to shift when viewed directly. "This is the culmination of seventeen generations of research—the Null Array. When activated, it generates a field that temporarily severs the connection between individuals and their energy cores."

A murmur of appreciation passed through the assembled leaders. Such technology was thought impossible—the ability to manipulate energy was fundamental to the empire's power structure.

"The array's effect will last precisely sixty-six minutes before burning out," Myrith explained. "During this window, imperial defenders will be limited to physical combat only, while our extraction team—specially prepared through the Inverted Core Ritual—will retain full access to their abilities."

Valen took the disc from her, handling it with reverence. "Each of these arrays requires the sacrifice of over five hundred faithful, their essence distilled and bound within its structure. We have created seven such devices for this operation, with more in production for future use. The knowledge to create them is perhaps our cult's most valuable weapon against the empire's energy-wielding forces."

He returned the disc to its place on the display. "The extraction team consists of thirteen of our most capable adepts, led by Sister Myrith herself. While imperial forces are overwhelmed by the coordinated attacks, they will penetrate the estate, activate the Null Array, neutralize any remaining resistance, and secure the Worthy One."

Brother Mortus cleared his throat. "And the extraction route?"

Valen gestured to a section of the display that showed detailed tunnels beneath the capital. "Ancient passages predating the empire itself. Our faithful have spent centuries ensuring they remain unknown to imperial authorities. The Worthy One will be transported directly to the Final Sanctuary, where the Ascension Ritual will commence immediately."

Sister Myrith's eyes gleamed with fanatical intensity. "Once the vessel is properly prepared, Icarus will manifest through him. The cleansing of this corrupted world can finally begin."

"What of the vessel's current condition?" asked a cell leader from the eastern territories. "Our intelligence suggests his consciousness remains fragmented."

"An advantage, not an obstacle," Valen replied. "A fragmented consciousness offers less resistance during the Ascension Ritual. The vessel's physical form is all that matters—Icarus will provide the animating essence."

He moved to stand before the assembled leaders, his scarlet robes catching the amber light. "Three thousand years of waiting. Countless sacrifices. Generations living and dying in service to our sacred purpose. Tomorrow, it culminates."

Valen raised his hands, and the thirty-nine cell leaders knelt as one. "You understand the probability of survival for those participating in the diversionary attacks approaches zero. This is the ultimate devotion our lord requires."

"Destruction brings salvation," they intoned in unison.

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"Go now to your final preparations," Valen commanded. "Synchronize your essence with the artifacts. When activated tomorrow, they will link all operations across the empire, ensuring perfect coordination regardless of distance."

As the cell leaders departed for their respective assignments, Valen and Sister Myrith remained at the tactical display. They studied the model of the Lionhart Estate, mentally tracing the path the extraction team would take.

"The Beast Emperor's researchers have scheduled their procedure for tomorrow night," Myrith noted. "The timing aids our purpose—the modification to the Frost Chamber's preservation matrix will create additional vulnerabilities."

"Yes," Valen agreed. "Though the Ice Monarch and his enforcer remain formidable obstacles, even without access to their energy cores."

"I have studied their capabilities extensively." Myrith traced a scar on her face—one she had carved herself while memorizing the combat records of every significant defender at the estate. "They rely on energy enhancement for their legendary abilities. Without it, they are merely exceptional swordsmen, not insurmountable forces."

Valen nodded, though concern lingered in his expression. "And what of the Beast Emperor himself? Our intelligence suggests he remains at the estate until the following morning."

"A calculated risk. His quarters are in the east wing, furthest from the Frost Chamber. The diversionary attacks will likely draw his attention outward, not inward." Myrith's voice remained coldly analytical. "If he interferes, the extraction team is prepared for absolute sacrifice."

"What of the Lionhart prodigy?" Valen asked. "The one called Alex, who has reportedly reached Swordmaster rank recently."

Myrith's expression hardened. "A complication, but not an insurmountable one. According to our intelligence, he's been stationed with Éclair's Third Division at the northern border. By the time he could return to the capital, our operation will be complete."

Silence fell between them as both contemplated the immensity of the operation they had set in motion. Thousands would die tomorrow—both the faithful who had willingly embraced their fate and innocents caught in the purifying flame. The Icarus cult would be irrevocably altered, its membership decimated in a single night of coordinated sacrifice.

Yet neither showed doubt. After three millennia of waiting, no price was too high to pay for the fulfillment of prophecy.

"The Worthy One will be delivered to Icarus's embrace," Valen said finally, touching the model of the Frost Chamber where Klaus Lionhart lay unconscious. "And through divine fire, creation will be cleansed and remade."

Sister Myrith nodded once, then departed to make her final preparations with the extraction team. Tomorrow, they would succeed or die in the attempt—there was no middle ground when serving Icarus.

Alone in the vast chamber, surrounded by the artifacts that would coordinate the largest operation in the cult's history, Valen allowed himself a moment of genuine emotion—not doubt, but anticipation so keen it bordered on ecstasy.

Three thousand years of patient devotion would finally bear fruit. And through fire and sacrifice, a new world would emerge from the ashes of the old.