Chapter 45: Platinum-Rank Threat, The Warlord’s Envoy

The dark stone corridors of the Remnant base resonated with the heavy stomping of boots.

Saile walked at the absolute front of the group. Lady Vesper, Mrog, and Alis followed closely behind him. The three Diamond-Tier warlords kept their heads respectfully bowed.

They marched straight into the massive main courtyard.

Thousands of hardened Remnant soldiers were already gathered in the shadows. They whispered nervously, clutching their rusted swords and dented shields.

The towering black iron gates of the fortress were pushed wide open.

Standing completely casually in the center of the entrance was Warlord Neleak’s envoy.

The man wore blindingly bright, heavy platinum armor. He rested a massive, spiked warhammer easily on his shoulder. Three elite guards stood right behind him, holding long steel spears.

The envoy looked around the dark, freezing cavern with a nasty, mocking sneer.

[Target: Warlord’s Envoy (Level 42)]

[Talent: B-Rank - Iron Skin]

"So this is the great Heretic hideout!" the envoy shouted loudly.

His voice echoed aggressively against the high stone ceiling.

"I expected a fortress," the armored man laughed. "But it looks like a filthy rat’s nest."

The Remnant soldiers gripped their weapons tighter. A wave of angry, violent

tension washed through the massive courtyard.

Saile stopped walking. He stood quietly in the center of the open space, keeping his plain brown eyes totally blank.

"Are you the ones in charge?" the envoy asked, looking directly past Saile to address Vesper and Mrog.

Lady Vesper did not answer. She simply looked at Saile, waiting entirely for her Sovereign’s command.

The envoy frowned, completely confused by the silence. He finally looked down at the skinny, seventeen-year-old boy standing in the dusty black cloak.

"Who is this pathetic beggar?" the envoy scoffed.

He took a heavy step forward. He hawked a wad of saliva and spat it directly onto the tip of Saile’s combat boots.

The entire courtyard went completely, utterly dead silent.

Mrog and Alis physically flinched. They had just watched this exact boy crush a Diamond-Tier Elder into bloody paste without even drawing his weapon.

"The great Warlord Neleak knows you are hiding down here," the envoy stated arrogantly. "He rules the Lawless Territories. He is generously funded by the Holy Church itself to keep this desert entirely under his boot."

"Get to the point," Saile said softly.

The envoy glared at him, angry that a weak peasant dared to speak.

"Neleak demands absolute tribute," the envoy commanded loudly. "You will surrender all of your gold. You will hand over every single weapon in this pathetic bunker."

The armored man slammed the heavy base of his warhammer into the stone floor.

"If you refuse, Warlord Neleak will march his twenty-thousand-man army right through these gates," the envoy threatened with a cruel grin. "He will slaughter every single man, woman, and child hiding in the dark. You do not have a choice."

Saile looked slowly at the spit resting on his boot. Then, he looked at the arrogant envoy.

"Twenty thousand men," Naicul whispered in Saile’s mind.

The ancient God’s voice was completely vibrating with dark, violent greed.

"That is not an army, kid," Naicul purred. "That is an all-you-can-eat buffet of pure experience points."

"I agree," Saile replied mentally.

"Well?" the envoy demanded impatiently. "What is your answer, rat?"

Saile didn’t speak. He didn’t blink.

He simply activated [Phantom Step].

His body instantly transformed into a violent blur of black lightning. He dashed forward with explosive, blinding speed. The Level 42 envoy did not even have time to widen his eyes.

Saile closed the distance in a single, terrifying heartbeat.

He reached smoothly over his shoulder. He gripped the heavy hilt of the Calamity Fang and drew the Epic-grade blade in one fluid motion.

He did not let his EX-Rank aura explode wildly into the air. He tightly compressed the raw, freezing dark mana. He pushed it entirely into the razor-thin cutting edge of the black sword.

A highly condensed, glowing line of purple lightning settled on the sharp metal.

Saile dropped his weight low. He whipped the blade around in a perfect, brutal horizontal slash.

The compressed macro-mana sliced completely through the air.

Boom!

A deafening sonic boom cracked violently across the courtyard. A visible crescent shockwave of black lightning exploded directly from the edge of the sword.

The envoy’s B-Rank Iron Skin meant absolutely nothing. The thick platinum armor

failed completely.

The Calamity Fang cut straight through the man’s armored neck with zero physical resistance. It felt exactly like slicing through soft, warm butter.

The envoy’s head popped cleanly off his shoulders mid-sentence.

A fountain of hot red blood sprayed wildly into the air. The man’s heavy, headless body stood frozen for a single second before crashing heavily onto the stone floor.

Clang!

The massive warhammer dropped harmlessly beside the bleeding corpse.

Saile reached out his free hand. He casually caught the severed head by its short, greasy hair before it could hit the ground.

He stood completely still, blood slowly dripping from the sharp edge of his dark sword.

The three elite bodyguards standing behind the dead envoy froze in pure, unadulterated terror. Their weapons shook violently in their hands. They stumbled backward, completely paralyzed by the sudden, brutal execution.

The thousands of Remnant soldiers watching from the shadows erupted into a

deafening, massive cheer.

Their new Sovereign did not negotiate with tyrants. He simply butchered them.

Saile turned his cold, plain brown eyes toward Lady Vesper.

"Bring me a wooden box," Saile ordered flatly.

Vesper bowed her head instantly. She signaled quickly to a nearby soldier. Within seconds, a small, sturdy wooden crate was brought directly to Saile’s side.

Saile casually dropped the envoy’s bleeding head straight into the box. He kicked the wooden lid completely shut with his heavy boot.

He sheathed the Calamity Fang across his back with a sharp, ringing metallic sound.

Saile looked directly at the three terrified bodyguards.

"Pick it up," Saile commanded softly.

The guards tripped over their own boots. They scrambled forward desperately,

completely dropping their steel spears to pick up the wooden box. They were shaking so hard they could barely hold the heavy crate.

"Take this box directly back to Warlord Neleak," Saile stated clearly.

The guards nodded frantically, completely unable to speak.

"Tell the tyrant that the Remnants are no longer hiding in the shadows," Saile declared, his voice echoing loudly for the entire courtyard to hear. "Tell him that the Sovereign of the Fallen God does not pay tribute."

Saile took a slow step toward the terrified men.

"Tell him I am coming for his head next," Saile finished coldly. "Get out."

The three bodyguards turned and ran completely for their lives. They sprinted blindly out of the massive iron gates, disappearing rapidly into the dark desert

tunnels.

Saile watched them run.

He had just officially declared war on the most powerful warlord in the Lawless Territories. A twenty-thousand-man army, secretly backed by the Holy Church, would soon be marching directly on this canyon.

"A bold move, kid," Naicul laughed darkly in his mind.

"We need to reach the Diamond Threshold," Saile replied mentally. "We need massive numbers to push the Endless Devourer to the absolute limit."

"Exactly," Naicul agreed, completely satisfied. "But fighting an army of that massive size requires preparation. Your loyal soldiers are starving. They are wearing rusted garbage."

Saile looked around the courtyard.

The ancient God was absolutely right. The five thousand Remnant soldiers were cheering wildly, completely ready to die for him. But their armor was heavily dented. Their swords were badly chipped.

If they fought a massive, heavily funded army like this, it would be a total massacre.

"We need better gear," Saile said out loud.

Mrog stepped forward, crossing his thick, tree-trunk arms over his chest.

"We have grandmaster blacksmiths down in the lower forges, Sovereign," the giant warlord explained respectfully. "But we are completely out of raw materials. We cannot forge new armor out of thin air."

Saile narrowed his brown eyes in deep thought.

His High-Tier Storage Ring only held nine Weapon Fragments. That was barely enough to upgrade his own sword, let alone equip an entire faction of soldiers. He needed a massive, raw infusion of forging materials right now.

"Where is the highest concentration of high-tier monsters in this desert?" Saile asked.

Lady Vesper walked up beside him.

"The deep sands," Vesper answered quickly. "About twenty miles east of the canyon. The entire area is completely infested with Level 40 Sand Wyrms. They possess incredibly dense scales. But they travel in massive packs. It is a total death sentence to hunt them."

A cold, highly dangerous smile slowly formed on Saile’s face.

A massive pack of Level 40 monsters. The Endless Devourer could violently consume them all to trigger a massive EXP multiplier. He could farm an absolute mountain of rare Weapon Fragments in a single afternoon.

"It is a death sentence for normal men," Saile corrected her softly.

He unclasped his dirty black cloak, throwing it completely to the side.

"Gather your most elite strike team," Saile commanded, looking directly at Mrog and Alis. "We leave for the deep sands in ten minutes.

We are going hunting."