Chapter 239: Chapter 37: The Boundary Between the Mundane and the Extraordinary

Though said to be dozens, there were in fact thirty-three figures.

On the stone dais at the head of the hall, Ironspine Duke Hakon Perik, Saint Cyril Cardinal, and the Valkendu Metropolitan Bishop sat as they always had, like three silent mountains.

Below in the hall, thirty figures stood in formation. Their auras were varied, but every one of them was an existence at the Peak of Mortality.

Ten of them were clad in uniform, silver-white half-plate armor engraved with intricate, sacred patterns. Over this, they wore pure white battle robes with gold-embroidered trim. They stood in silent solemnity, like ten Holy Swords resting in their sheaths.

Their gazes were calm and sharp, and a fluctuation of Life Energy, far more condensed and pure than that of any worldly Knight, radiated from their bodies. These were members of the Templar Order, directly under the Church Court’s command.

Though few in number, they formed a cohesive unit, their collective presence faintly overpowering the other twenty.

The other twenty were Great Knights at the Peak of Mortality, gathered from all corners of the Continent in response to a supreme Cardinal Decree.

Their attire was varied and their insignias distinct, representing the different families, territories, and even Kingdoms they served.

There was the arrogant, middle-aged Great Knight under the command of the Golden Coast Duke—famed for the wealth and navy of his Albion Islands—dressed in a magnificent, deep red velvet robe with gold trim.

There was the Commander of the Iron Wall Guard, who served directly under the Emperor of the eastern Rotalia Empire, clad head-to-toe in Black Iron Heavy Armor with his Face Armor lowered, revealing only a pair of icy eyes.

There was a brawny warrior chosen by the allied tribes of the northwestern highlands, draped in a Wolf Fur Cloak, his face marked with ancient tribal war tattoos.

There were even two famous mercenary brothers from the overseas Jade Coast City-States Alliance, known as the "Storm Twin Blades." They wore light Leather Armor for ease of movement, their nimble and wary eyes scanning their surroundings...

The status and authority of some of these individuals were no less than—and perhaps even greater than—that of the Ironspine Duke, who presided over his own domain.

They represented the pinnacle of the Continent’s mortal military might, yet now they were forcibly gathered by a single decree in this sulfur-stenched border fortress. As their eyes met, beyond their shared gravity about the mission, there was undisguised scrutiny, vigilance, and a subtle contest of wills.

The air grew heavy, stagnating from the auras unconsciously radiating from these thirty-three powerhouses. Even the torchlight seemed to dim.

The sound of Murphy stepping into the hall shattered the brief silence.

Thirty-three gazes, like physical probes, instantly focused on him.

Scrutiny, inquiry, indifference, curiosity, and even a hint of imperceptible contempt... all swirled within those gazes.

Rumors of his "severe injuries" and "questionable strength" had clearly already circulated within this small circle of preeminent figures.

As if oblivious, Murphy walked directly to a relatively open spot in the ranks of Great Knights and took his position. His posture was calm, his gaze fixed on the stone dais ahead.

The last of the summoned Great Knights—an old man from the Central Plains Orleans Grand Duchy, his hair gray but his back as straight as a spear—hurried into the hall and took his place.

Ironspine Duke Hakon’s voice boomed, heavy and grating like stone grinding against stone:

"Good. Everyone is here." 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

His gray-blue eyes slowly swept over the thirty-two figures below, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on the ten Temple Knights and Murphy. "I won’t waste words," he continued. "I have summoned you because we have found a potential opportunity to completely eliminate the root of this disaster. However, it will come at a great cost and requires undertaking an extremely dangerous mission."

He turned to the side, gesturing toward Saint Cyril Cardinal, who sat beside him with his eyes closed in meditation.

Saint Cyril slowly opened his eyes.

Though his face was still pale, the divine authority in his eyes was such that none dared to meet his gaze.

His voice was not loud, yet it carried a peculiar, piercing quality that reached every ear with perfect clarity:

"I imagine you are all aware by now that the enemy we face does not hail from the Main World. They come from the ’Deep Red Wilderness’—an outer plane that partially converged with our world in ancient times, but one whose Laws are vastly different."

"For ages, the ’membrane’ between the two realms has remained relatively stable. But certain malevolent entities have persistently sought to re-establish a firm connection. The passage at Eagle’s Beak Peak is one result of their efforts."

He paused, his voice growing heavier. "However, it is both a blessing and a curse that because the Laws of convergence have yet to fully mend, only a fraction of the Deep Red Wilderness’s power has ever been able to cross the boundary into the Main World."

"More powerful individuals and more complete legions are restricted by the incompatible Laws, temporarily unable to descend en masse. This has given us a reprieve, and it is why we have been able to build a defensive line here."

The Valkendu Metropolitan Bishop’s cold, hard voice cut in, like a frigid wind scraping across ice. "But this reprieve will not last forever. The very existence of the passage is constantly eroding and adapting, trying to harmonize the Laws of the two realms. If we wait, more terrifying enemies will just keep pouring in until we are completely overwhelmed."

He scanned those below, his gaze like an icicle. "Therefore, passive defense is a dead end. We must take the offensive, delve deep into their realm, and in that weak zone of convergence—where the Laws are hostile to us, but also to them—we must find and destroy the key anchor point maintaining the passage’s stability. We must sever this damned connection for good!"

A stir went through the hall at his words.

’Go deep into the Deep Red Wilderness?’

’Into that terrifying world, where just a fraction of its power has spawned countless monsters?’

The representative of the Golden Coast Duke was the first to speak, his tone laced with caution. "Respected Lord Bishop, this sounds... nearly insane. We know almost nothing of this other realm. How are we to venture deep within it? And how, in their world, are we supposed to find and destroy an anchor point whose nature is a mystery even to us?"