Chapter 136

Chapter 136
## Chapter 136

Continental Summit (4)

A multitude of matters were brought to the floor, sparking vibrant debates throughout the grand chamber.

Because the mood had shifted for the better, the proceedings moved along without friction.

The initial resolution agreed upon by the gathering was the creation of a united continental military force.

The delegates resolved to assemble a joint peacekeeping body modeled after the concept of a multinational task force, functioning independently of any single nation’s standing army to ensure an immediate mobilization during crises.

This concept possessed deep historical roots, having repeatedly demonstrated its efficacy during prior catastrophes involving the Lich King, which meant it faced no opposition from the council.

Naturally, leadership of this joint host was designated to a high-ranking champion of the Supreme Deity’s Order, ensuring the role remained untainted by the regional rivalries of the various realms.

“The peril is currently most critical within the borders of the Rohan Duchy! Aside from our southern frontier sharing a line with the Empire, our remaining three borders are actively besieged by enemy forces. Lacking immediate reinforcement, our entire realm faces imminent downfall!”

This frantic appeal echoed through the hall directly following the authorization of the united host, arising during the subsequent planning for its deployment and logistical funding.

The desperate speaker was none other than Duke Dennis Rohan, ruler of the vulnerable Rohan Duchy.

“Indeed— the current plague of beastly frenzy essentially mirrors an offensive launched by the Lich King, demanding a collective countermeasure orchestrated by our unified forces.”

Stepping forward, Crown Prince Simon of the Azeria Empire voiced his concurrence with the Duke’s assessment.

While the Empire itself navigated treacherous waters and harbored reservations about deploying its own battalions abroad, utilizing the newly mandated joint host—which they were obligated to fund regardless—offered a perfect avenue to shield their tributary state, the Rohan Duchy.

The representative sent by the Zepia Republic projected an aura of mild displeasure, yet refrained from lodging a formal protest before the assembly, likely to protect their public standing.

Following an exchange of strategic deliberations, an accord to deliver military aid to the Rohan Duchy was officially ratified.

Mopping the perspiration from his brow with a silk cloth, Duke Dennis released a quiet breath of relief.

‘The motion has carried. This buys our people precious time to breathe. Though organizing and marching the joint host will require days, our defenses should hold until their arrival.’

With his primary objective secured, the Duke found himself able to engage in the unfolding debates with a far less burdened spirit.

As several secondary matters were resolved in sequence, the assembly transitioned to a pivotal topic…

The formation of the ‘Anti-Lich King Vanguard Strike Squad’, colloquially recognized as the legendary champion vanguard.

Their singular, uncompromising mandate was to hunt down and assassinate the Lich King himself.

Predictably, command of this elite unit was bestowed upon the reigning Holy Champion, ‘Heinrich Saint Landguard’.

This lineage of warriors carried deep historical weight, tracing its origins directly to the ancient grand campaigns that had successfully put down previous incarnations of the Lich Kings.

These legendary figures had pushed through the breaches opened by the sacrificing masses of the continental army, trading their lives to strike down the ultimate evil and restoring harmony to the lands across two separate eras.

Given the immense weight of destiny and unmatched prestige bound to this task, the council could not afford to be reckless in appointing its roster.

It was intended to be an assembly of the finest prodigies across the known lands, yet the dignitaries representing the various factions suddenly looked deeply unsettled…

“Ah, the vanguard campaign…”

“…Ahem.”

The source of their collective unease lay in the historical casualty rates of those ancient vanguards.

To put it plainly, history recorded not a single warrior who enjoyed a peaceful end after striking down the Lich King.

The vast majority fell on the field of combat, while the meager few who saw the end suffered under catastrophic physical tolls, enduring lifelong maiming or lethal hexes that brought them to early graves.

This tragic fate spared neither the Holy Champions nor the celebrated vanguard warriors.

They lingered for a handful of winters at best before passing on to join the Supreme Deity’s heavenly host.

The realm was already fracturing under widespread turmoil.

Faced with such dark prospects, what ruler would willingly offer up their premier protectors—the absolute pillars of their domestic security—to such a meat grinder?

Yet while the majority hesitated to voice their thoughts openly, one figure confidently raised a hand to shatter the silence, utterly indifferent to the hesitation of his peers…

“Under these circumstances, our Empire possesses an exceptional candidate we wish to present for consideration.”

Crown Prince Simon of the Azeria Empire spoke up, a calculating smirk playing upon his lips.

“Viscount Isea Pristine. A prodigy of the arcane arts who has ascended to the rank of Grand Magus despite her youth. She represents the absolute pinnacle of our Empire’s arcane talent.”

“My word— Viscount Pristine is uniquely suited for such an honor. Her treatise published last winter, ‘The Multi-Dimensional Deconstruction of Glacial Sorcery Via Crystalline Formations,’ offered a revolutionary paradigm shift in cryomancy…”

An elder dignitary seated at the grand table of the Arcane Spires Coalition interjected with fervent enthusiasm, completely moved by the Prince’s nomination.

His ecstatic lecture cut short abruptly, however, as the high master seated beside him shot him a fiercely silencing glare.

‘Isea Pristine… that name has reached my ears. For her to command the respect of rival factions proves she is an exceptional force.’

As the Holy Champion, maintaining awareness regarding the elite martial and arcane assets of every nation fell squarely within his purview.

She was a rising star among the Imperial aristocracy, a figure whose reputation was still burgeoning, having secured her noble standing strictly through her peerless magical aptitude.

Rumors placed her firmly among the top ten practitioners of sorcery across the length of the Ion Continent.

Though her exact birth year remained undisclosed, she was widely believed to be shy of her thirtieth winter, marking her future growth as boundless.

True to the Crown Prince’s declaration, she was a literal crown jewel of the realm.

‘Yet they are so eager to toss an irreplaceable asset into the jaws of a suicide mission?’

Observing the panicked, blindsided expressions of the Imperial retinue, it was glaringly obvious this nomination had not been vetted behind closed doors.

The political maneuvering behind the curtain was transparent.

‘She must belong to an opposing political faction. Statesmen never squander a chance to eliminate a rival under the guise of honor.’

Now that the ice had been broken, other dignitaries who had previously hoarded their words began throwing names into the ring.

“Our realm cannot decline a part in such an illustrious endeavor. Our domain boasts a rising prodigy who is scaling the ranks of power…”

“Reflecting on our neighbors, Duke Serington of the Lesque Kingdom is widely celebrated as a master of the blade…”

“One moment! What absurdities are you uttering? The man is well past his prime years…”

The nominations devolved into a mix of targeting internal political adversaries and deflecting burdens onto rival states.

While the stringent benchmarks required to face the Lich King meant the pool of true candidates was minuscule, the sheer volume of names being tossed about caused the temperature in the hall to skyrocket with aggressive debate.

Witnessing this, Heinrich felt a bitter fire igniting in his chest.

The fundamental premise underlying all their frantic scheming was the absolute certainty that the vanguard he was meant to lead would return in body bags!

This was a campaign centered around Heinrich Saint Landguard!

‘…I will ensure every last one of them earns the title of savior, and I will bring them back alive to spite you all.’

Gritting his teeth, he forged a quiet, unbreakable vow within his mind.

Mercifully, the entire room was not governed solely by cold political calculations.

“I offer my own life to march with this vanguard, even if my contribution is but a drop in the ocean…!”

“Cease this madness! Should the Divine Messenger abandon our flock, our sect will crumble…”

A patriarch of a minor religious order stepped forward with zealous devotion, only to be forcefully restrained and shushed by his panicked retinue.

“Alas, it seems my martial prowess remains inadequate to stand among the vanguard.”

“One must achieve the pinnacle of Grandmaster status to even qualify…”

“If only they would accept an apprentice to carry the supplies…”

A handful of mid-tier representatives, blinded by inflated egos, fantasized about securing a spot in the legendary tale.

Conspicuous among them was Shapiron, who sat gazing at Heinrich with wide, starry eyes, completely ignoring the deeply exhausted expression pulling at Harris’s face.

Crunch, crunch—

“Eh? Harris, what is that you are consuming?”

“This? It is a delicacy known as popcorn… care to partake?”

“…An unusual presentation. Is this a native delicacy harvested from the Ion Continent?”

Fortunately, the grand political theater failed to hold their focus, and their attention quickly pivoted to the bizarre provisions Harris was enjoying.

Reaching into his personal stores, Harris distributed the puffed corn snacks he had ferried from Earth utilizing the “Avatar Cloud” technique, offering a handful to Shapiron at his side as the duo settled in to spectate the political circus.

‘The initial frenzy appears to be cooling down. It is highly unlikely they will finalize a roster today based purely on spontaneous shouting.’

Though he maintained a thoroughly detached and casual exterior, his mind was operating with razor-sharp focus, dissecting every shift in the room with absolute gravity.

“Harris, friend. Do you possess a further supply? The texture is remarkably crisp and perfectly seasoned, it pleases the palate!”

Replenishing the container for Shapiron, who had emptied his portion with incredible speed, Harris directed his vision back toward the primary round table anchoring the center of the hall.

Despite the intense volume of the arguments, very little tangible progress had actually been locked into place.

‘Unsurprising. The verdicts rendered within this chamber will reshape global alliances for a generation, ensuring nothing moves to a final vote in a mere day. Furthermore, too many opportunists are attempting to exploit this global peril to line their own pockets.’

Witnessing their fractured attempt at unity, it was evident the assembly still failed to grasp the true magnitude of the apocalypse knocking at their gates.

“With that, we shall bring this inaugural session to a close. The secondary assembly will convene tomorrow at this exact hour; I implore all delegates to arrive promptly to avoid administrative delays.”

Buzz, buzz—

The moment Cardinal Cordelia finished delivering the concluding statement, the gathered factions fractured into insulated clusters, initiating a flurry of hushed, private conferences.

They sought to dissect and strategize around the various agendas raised during the open session.

Concurrently, the mysterious delegates representing the Enamel Continent, who had maintained an unbroken, stony silence throughout the day, stood up and departed the hall without offering so much as a glance to the other nations.

‘This isolationism will not do. The hour demands that all parties truly integrate.’

Indeed, therefore…

The following event could be viewed as a mandatory ice-breaking exercise.

Hummmmm—

Crackle—!

In that precise instant.

“What is that?”

“What disrupts the chamber?”

The massive divine ward safeguarding the perimeter of the grand conference hall began to pulse violently, shedding a blinding, radiant luminosity.

Accompanied by a sound resembling the violent sundering of fabric, violent arcing currents of energy erupted…

[It appears my arrival has been slightly delayed.]

A profound, guttural resonance that seemed to crawl upward from the depths of the underworld reverberated through the structural pillars of the hall.

It comprised a mere handful of words, yet the absolute, soul-freezing malice woven into the tone caused the blood of every mortal present to turn to ice.

“………!”

“Wh-What madness is this…?”

Panic rippled through the ranks at the inexplicable breach.

Just as the corruptive, dark malice trailing the horrific voice attempted to breach their consciousness and shatter their sanity…

“You dare violate the sanctity of this hall!”

Anticipating the assault perfectly, Saint Heinrich’s blinding holy luminescence flared outward, weaving a protective canopy over every soul trapped within the chamber.

[“To arms! Every Paladin and consecrated knight, form a defensive perimeter immediately!”]

His thunderous command, saturated with dense divine energy, rolled across the architecture like a physical shockwave—.

Clang—!

Clatter! Clatter!

The defensive legions of the Order, stationed on high alert, breached the doors instantly in full battle armor, weapons drawn.

The counter-response materialized in the blink of an eye.

Executing Heinrich’s pre-established emergency protocols flawlessly, they formed a wall of steel, redirecting the high dignitaries toward the rear flanks and into a heavily fortified bastion reinforced by ancient divine artifacts.

By sheer coincidence, this fallback point offered an unhindered, panoramic view of the central floor—an intentional design, given that maintaining tactical clarity was paramount for the world’s rulers.

[Aha… It appears you have orchestrated quite the welcome committee for this occasion. A divine ward of such magnitude. Hehehe— You must harbor immense terror of my shadow, Vanguard Heinrich!]

Crackle—!

As blinding white static tore through the air, a silhouette draped in a suffocating, pitch-black shroud manifested within the space.

He wore a dark robe and cowl that appeared tailored from the fabric of the void itself, a twisted, mocking visage faintly discernible beneath the shadows of his hood.

The crushing, suffocating aura radiating from his form was an identity card known to every living being across the lands.

Even lacking a prior face-to-face encounter, any mortal would instantly recognize the entity the moment they stood in his presence.

His true title was…

“Hannibal Strauss! You possess the audacity to manifest your wretched self in this sanctuary? You vastly underestimate our resolve!”

The Lich King, Hans… no, Hannibal Strauss, who had brazenly shattered the security of the Continental Summit.

Standing defiant against him was the pristine champion of righteousness, Heinrich Saint Landguard, unsheathing his consecrated blade to lock eyes with his nemesis.

At long last, the two eternal adversaries stood face-to-face once more.

Right here, in the heart of the Continental Summit,

Staged perfectly before the collective rulers of the world of Auterica.