Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory
Chapter 384: Something big was coming

Chapter 384: Something big was coming

Two completely opposing reputations—one of divine mercy, the other of ruthless betrayal—had shaped the Angels into one of the most polarizing races in existence. But some scholars and philosophers had tried to make sense of this contradiction, to understand how such a twisted duality could exist within a single race.

And the conclusion they reached?

The Angels weren’t hypocrites. They were just... too pure. Or rather, too extreme.

Why?

It’s simple.

Take madness, for example. When people think of obsession, fanaticism, or incomprehensible behavior, the first image that comes to mind is always the mages of the Tower faction.

And for good reason. In the world of Glory Lords X, the Tower’s archmages were practically synonymous with insanity.

They worshipped magic. Lived for it. Died for it. They’d sacrifice anything—wealth, power, even their own lives—in pursuit of magical truth.

But even their madness paled in comparison to the Angels.

Because while the Tower mages’ obsession was usually self-contained—directed inward, toward their own goals and sacrifices—the Angels’ extremism didn’t stop with themselves.

It extended to everyone.

To them, Light was everything.

The Holy Dragon Elrath wasn’t just a god—it was the very reason they existed. The embodiment of purity, order, and divine purpose.

And for that Light, for Elrath, they would give everything.

Themselves.

Their allies.

The world.

That’s why some say the Angels aren’t really living beings anymore. Not in the way mortals understand life. They’re more like incarnations of Light Force itself—beings stripped of the usual emotions and desires that define sentient life.

No greed.

No fear.

No hesitation.

Only faith.

Only Light.

Only Elrath.

And that’s why their image is so extreme—because their devotion is absolute. Their fanaticism, unshakable. Their purity, terrifying.

"Understood, Lord Cain. I’ll leave immediately," Lorns said, nodding firmly as he rose to his feet.

But just as he turned to go, Cain’s voice stopped him.

"Wait. Lorns—where’s Veyra right now?"

Lorns paused, then replied, "Last I heard, Your Grace, Princess Veyra was in the Holy Vanguard Empire, hunting down an Inferno Devil."

"Then find her first," Cain said calmly. "Tell her to go to the Holy Griffon Empire in my place. Sylvanwood. She’s to deliver our plan to the Lord of Emerald Castle."

"Emerald Castle?" Lorns blinked, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. But he didn’t question it. He simply nodded and said, "Understood, Lord Cain. I’ll inform Princess Veyra right away."

"Go."

...

At that very moment—

Far across the sea, in the King’s City of the Umagral Kingdom, one of the Five Sea Kingdoms...

Another scene was unfolding.

...

Inside the King’s City of the Umagral Kingdom—one of the Five Sea Kingdoms—deep within a massive, opulent castle adorned with gold, crystal, and gemstones, a high-level meeting was underway.

A long, lavish table sat at the center of the grand hall, its surface inlaid with precious stones and shimmering with magical light. Around it were four ornate chairs—each one occupied by a ruler of immense power and influence.

Seated at the table were:

Grand Duke Opriston of the Umagral Kingdom,

King Regnar XI of the Storm Kingdom,

The Jewel King Astharel of the Gemspire Kingdom,

And Grand Duke Zurei of the Thundervale Kingdom.

Though the Five Sea Kingdoms varied in strength, they were all considered mid-tier powers on the world stage. Whether titled "king" or "grand duke," each of these men was the supreme ruler of his nation—no difference in authority, only in name.

This gathering had been called by Grand Duke Opriston, who had personally invited the other three. Notably absent, however, was the fifth ruler of the Five Sea Kingdoms: Grand Duke Fiesto of the Blazeblade Kingdom.

BANG!

A heavy hand slammed down on the table. Grand Duke Zurei, known for his short fuse, glared across the table at Opriston.

"Opriston, what the hell did you drag us here for?" he snapped. "You know damn well how tense things are right now. The fact that we even showed up is already a huge courtesy. So cut the crap and get to the point!"

His tone was harsh, bordering on disrespectful—but no one batted an eye.

Not even Opriston.

Because this was just how Zurei was.

The Thundervale Kingdom, second only to Blazeblade in proximity to the Forbidden Sea, was constantly battered by violent storms and unpredictable natural disasters. The land was harsh, the people tougher, and their tempers even worse.

Zurei was a textbook product of that environment.

And if Zurei was bad, Fiesto of Blazeblade was worse.

"Zurei’s right," Regnar XI added with a tired sigh. "We don’t have time to waste. The Inferno Devils are on the move, and we’re all barely holding on. We can’t afford delays."

"I’ve got a question, though," said Astharel, the Jewel King, his voice calm but curious. "Opriston, why isn’t Fiesto here? Did you invite him and he refused... or did you not invite him at all?"

At that, all eyes turned to Opriston.

Even Zurei and Regnar XI looked puzzled now, their gazes sharp with interest.

Opriston raised a hand, gesturing for calm, and gave a faint, almost amused smile.

"As you’ve guessed... Fiesto isn’t here because I never invited him."

"What?!" Astharel blinked. "Why not?"

"Yeah, what the hell?" Zurei growled.

Opriston leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at each of them in turn.

"Because I don’t trust him anymore."

The room fell silent.

Opriston continued, his voice low and deliberate.

"Fiesto—and the entire Blazeblade Kingdom, really—have always been lapdogs for the Greenwave Empire. That was tolerable before, when things were stable. But now? With the world on the brink? Can any of you honestly say you still trust him?"

The silence deepened.

Astharel, Zurei, and Regnar XI exchanged uneasy glances. No one spoke. No one denied it.

Because deep down, they all knew Opriston had a point.

He still hadn’t revealed the true reason for this meeting, but from the tension in his voice, the deliberate exclusion of Fiesto, and the weight of his words... it was clear.

This wasn’t just a casual alliance talk.

Something big was coming.

"Grand Duke Opriston, enough with the suspense," The Jewel King Astharel finally snapped, his voice low and tense. "Just tell us—what the hell is this about?"

Opriston didn’t hesitate. He slowly rose from his seat, his gaze sweeping over the other three rulers with a sharp glint in his eyes.

"Very well," he said, his tone calm but heavy with weight. "I called you here today... to deliver the divine edict of Sea King Maelthorak."

"...What?!"

"Sea King Maelthorak?!"

"You’re kidding—Maelthorak is still alive?! Opriston, are you serious?!"

The room exploded with disbelief.

Astharel, Zurei, and Regnar XI all jolted upright, their expressions shifting from confusion to outright shock. They stared at Opriston like he’d just told them the dead had risen.

Because to them... that’s exactly what it sounded like.

It was unthinkable.

After the Tidesworn faction’s crushing defeat not long ago, everyone had assumed Sea King Maelthorak was dead.

First, because he had vanished—completely. No sightings, no messages, not even a whisper of his presence.

Second—and far more telling—was what happened afterward.

The nations and heroes who had once sworn loyalty to Maelthorak had started to drift. Some grew distant. Others began making moves of their own. And a few... had outright turned their backs on him.

Like the current Emerald Emperor of the Greenwave Empire—

Oislor.

...

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