Super Righteous Player
Chapter 443 - 440 Sacred Fire_1

Chapter 443: Chapter 440 Sacred Fire_1

In the incident where The Pure Medium invaded the royal palace, twelve silver-rank Transcendents were left dead, their bodies without a single mark;

The [Cursed Item: Ice Cube Sealed with Light] that Kafney had just prepared for Annan;

The [Frost Tower] summoned by the special silver-rank spell of a Frostspeaker;

The high-level influence over the ice and frost domain that Annan could substitute with his grandmother’s true name;

Plus the true name of Mr. Radiance—Bode—that Annan had recently learned from "On the Eighth Aspect of the Sun."

The ceremony Annan was preparing, "Winter’s Breath," was nearing its end. As soon as he acquired one of the three conditions—an atmosphere of blizzard, hail, or torrential rain—he could officially begin.

——And he would complete the ceremony with top-of-the-line components.

He was certain that not many Frostspeakers or Hands of Winter, not even those from past generations, could have almost a perfect "Winter’s Breath" at silver-rank like he did.

Annan had already invested a full 150 Order Mana Value last night... that is, the night of Henry VIII’s death, to construct a thirty-meter tall "Frost Tower" in the Geraint family’s backyard using unmeltable ice.

——That was a true tower.

It even automatically divided itself into three levels.

Annan had already had the bodies transported to the third floor, the most close to the sky.

Order Mana Value would fully recover at dawn each day. If Annan wanted to, he could go all out to build a near forty meters tall tower at his maximum... but that was pointless.

After all, Annan was just borrowing the temperature.

If it weren’t for the fear of not having enough space for the bodies, even a structure eight or nine meters tall would have been sufficient.

Though that might not have been called a tower...

Because Annan realized, the area seemed fixed——or rather, determined by another element.

It was a circle with a diameter of twenty-two yards.

And that was exactly Annan’s Frostspeaker professional level.

In other words, if Annan truly only invested forty or fifty points of mana value... what he would have summoned was hardly a Frost Tower.

A diameter of twenty-plus meters, with a height less than ten meters.

At best, that thing was a Frost Cauldron.

For this reason, Annan realized... ordinary Frostspeakers can hardly use this skill properly.

Unlike him, they do not possess four times the mana value.

Either the Elves, like himself, had an incremented Order Mana Value, or they had to use rituals to amplify and infuse energy in order to use this spell.

In other words, although it is a Chanting Spell.

To use it well, one must employ the standards of a Ritual Spell.

And if you use a degraded version, the summoned Frost Tower, lacking any aesthetic appeal and not too sturdy, can only serve as a personal fortress to defend against stray arrows and fireballs.

But Annan had no intention of planting his tower in the Crow’s territory.

This was completely a spell that could act as a portable base and a storage warehouse.

Annan just wanted to see in a safe place what exactly the "Frost Tower" was like, and what its internal structure was like.

And... how strong of an attack it could resist.

The experimental results were very positive.

The tester was the Paper Princess.

She simulated an attack equivalent to that of a silver-rank destructive Wizard, which left the Frost Tower almost undamaged; then she immediately simulated a slash equivalent to a gold-rank Swordsman’s blow—unsurprisingly, the Frost Tower was cleaved.

But this sword energy only sliced through one wall. It didn’t come out the other side, only leaving a scratch about three to four centimeters deep.

This means that after passing through the Frost Tower, the power of a gold-rank attack could generally be reduced to the level of silver-rank.

——Of course, let’s not talk about the attack from a gold-rank destructive Wizard.

In terms of pure output, no other Transcendent can be compared to destructive Wizards who specialize in the path of destruction.

Since a gold-rank Swordsman could slash through the walls of the Frost Tower from a distance, then if a gold-rank destructive Wizard launched an attack, the tower might be directly obliterated...

"But this funeral, it’s being held too quickly."

Salvatore whispered to Annan, "Didn’t His Majesty just pass away yesterday? Are they holding the funeral today?"

Both he and Annan were dressed in formal attire, sitting on a long bench beside the Silver Baron’s fountain.

He wore the special attire of the Tower’s Child—a pure black cloak with a high collar that looked quite similar to Lelouch’s outfit.

Annan, too, was clad in his "The Silver Sir’s Favor," a white robe made of fabric as light as gauze. Although it didn’t quite look like formal attire, those who knew its value certainly understood its significance.

There could be no more solemn clothes than these.

The two outfits, one black and one white, were perfectly appropriate for attending a funeral without any breach of protocol.

"Even though he passed away yesterday... the official story is that King Henry VIII had been critically ill and on the brink of death for a long time."

This funeral must have been prepared for quite a while.

At this point, Annan snorted coldly, "It’s apparent that they’re quite in a hurry."

Now it seemed it was not just Prince Philip.

Even Crown Princess Elizabeth probably couldn’t wait for her father to die sooner.

"Eh..."

Just then, Salvatore suddenly felt a movement in his heart.

A sense of unease vaguely arose within him.

He looked around and then gazed toward the southwest.

He could see... in the sky in that direction, flames were surging fiercely.

Hot flames and smoke formed a column reaching up to the sky.

Salvatore stared deeply at the blaze, his frown growing tighter.

"What’s wrong?"

Annan sensed something and turned to look at Salvatore.

"Over there... it seems to be the direction of the Black Tower."

Salvatore muttered softly, "Could something have happened to the Black Tower?"

"The Tower Master is still there. If the Tower Master is present, what could possibly go wrong?"

Annan replied off-handedly.

However, just then, a bright and unmistakably clear voice sounded next to Annan, "There really has been an incident over at Heath Tower of Black."

Annan turned his head, somewhat surprised to see the man with a slender face, curly hair parted in the middle, and wearing a monocle, smiling radiantly and sunny, sitting beside him.

The bench, originally meant for just two, felt quite crowded with three people sitting on it. It was only because Annan was slender and had shifted toward Salvatore that they barely managed to fit.

"May I ask... what happened over at the Black Tower?"

Annan asked on behalf of Salvatore.

After all, this was a True God.

Though Salvatore was a Tower’s Child, he had not yet succeeded to the title. Facing the Silver Baron, there were many things Annan could say, but Salvatore could not.

The senior had taken good care of him before.

Since there seemed to be trouble on Salvatore’s side... it was time for him to help.

The Silver Baron looked at Annan with profound meaning and then at Salvatore, whose expression was somewhat anxious.

"Actually, Heath Tower of Black is facing an unprecedented disaster."

He said slowly, "Besides you and Feng Hohenheim... and Dragon Well Tea.

"Most likely, all the Wizards who were studying in Black Tower have already died."

Salvatore’s pupils constricted instantly.

Obsolete with formality, he immediately placed his hand on Annan’s leg and leaned forward toward the Silver Baron, almost half his body leaning over, "Please tell me more—what happened? Is there anything I can help with?"

"’The Pure Medium’ Bernadino tried to accomplish ’The Work of Creation,’ aiming to further perfect his sublime false body. To do so, he must acquire ’Sacred Fire.’

"You should know what Sacred Fire is," the Silver Baron said slowly.