Chapter 217: Sowing Discord

By the middle of the following afternoon, the sun hung high over Mount Ryogoku, casting a harsh, brilliant glare across the central courtyard of the Glorious Mythical Sect.

The vast, flagstone-paved courtyard—usually reserved for inner disciples to practice their sword forms and martial arts—was packed with hundreds of young cultivators.

The disciples loitered in groups near the surrounding marble pillars, their voices hushed in tense, excited whispers as they stared toward the main gates.

They had gathered to witness the arrival of the holy vanguard sent by the Church of the God of the Sky.

Stepping through the grand archway in a precise, heavy formation was a unit of twelve high-ranking holy warriors: the Paladins of the Sky.

These were not ordinary foot soldiers or low-tier clergy.

Each Paladin was clad head-to-toe in shimmering, sacred steel armor that encased every square inch of their bodies, leaving not a single patch of skin exposed.

Even their faces were hidden behind solid, featureless silver visors, devoid of eye slits, allowing them to perceive the world entirely through holy mana perception.

A suffocating, intense aura emanated from the unit.

The oppressive pressure of twelve bonafide Martial Generals—ranging from Initial-stage to Middle-stage masters—heavy and refined, rolled across the courtyard like a tidal wave.

Heavy, sheathed broadswords hung at their waists, their pommels carved in the shape of soaring eagles, humming with condensed, holy mana.

From the high balcony overlooking the courtyard, several core Elders watched the spectacle in total silence.

Roy stood near the stone railing, maintaining the wrinkled visage of the Peerless Supreme Elder.

He slowly stroked his long, grey beard, his golden-crimson eyes narrowing beneath his hood as he evaluated the Paladins’ martial foundation, combat posture, and hidden mana reservoirs with cold, analytical precision.

Initial and Middle-stage Martial Generals, Roy noted internally, his mind calculating their threat level in seconds.

Formidable for a regional strike force... but ultimately worthless against true domain masters.

Standing directly to Roy’s left was the Divine Scarlet Elder—a tall, fierce-looking man with long crimson hair tied into a high ponytail, dressed in deep red martial robes.

His dark eyes were fixed on the marching Paladins below, his brow furrowed into a tight, displeased scowl.

"Disgusting," Divine Scarlet Elder muttered under his breath, his voice laced with suppressed anger.

Roy did not turn his head, but his eyes shifted slightly toward the red-haired Elder. "You seem deeply troubled, Brother Scarlet."

Divine Scarlet Elder let out a quiet, harsh scoff, resting his heavy, callous hand on the hilt of his saber.

"How can I not be troubled, Peerless? Look at them down there. Look at how our own disciples gawk at these outsiders as if they are divine saviors descending from the heavens."

The red-haired Elder turned his body slightly, leaning closer to Roy so his voice wouldn’t carry over to the other Elders standing nearby.

"I do not like the direction our sect is heading. Ever since that red-haired priest, Arnold, set foot on Mount Ryogoku, Sect Leader Mao has been dangling from his finger like a marionette puppet.

The Church of the God of the Sky is slowly, methodically wrapping its roots around our throat, and something about this whole setup feels deeply, utterly wrong. Tell me, Peerless... do you not feel it too?"

Roy remained silent for a short moment, letting the silence build as if pondering the weight of the Elder’s words.

Then, he let out a long, weary sigh, turning his stolen, aged face to look directly into Divine Scarlet Elder’s eyes.

He gave a slow, deliberate nod of absolute agreement.

"You are far more observant than the rest of our brothers, Divine Scarlet," Roy spoke, his raspy, elderly voice dropping into a solemn, conspiratorial whisper.

"I have shared your exact concerns since yesterday evening. Something truly sinister is unfolding right beneath our noses."

Divine Scarlet Elder’s eyes widened slightly, leaning in closer. "You believe so as well?"

"Indeed," Roy said softly, his voice laced with grave, fabricated concern. "Consider this, my brother... these men down there may wear the pristine robes and shiny armor of the Holy Church, but they are soldiers of a foreign power.

I suspect they have come into our Northern Hashian Mountains with far darker, ulterior motives."

"Ulterior motives?" Divine Scarlet Elder questioned, his frown deepening.

"They care nothing for the lives of our people or the stability of our region," Roy explained, his tone smooth and deeply convincing.

"I fear... they intend to orchestrate a merciless, bloody massacre across our cities. And when the rivers of innocent blood begin to flow, they will simply point their fingers at this mythical ’Church of the God of Beast’ and use them as a convenient scapegoat to justify their total military occupation of our lands."

Roy placed a firm, aged hand on Divine Scarlet Elder’s shoulder, tightening his grip slightly.

"If my suspicions are correct, Brother Scarlet... these holy fanatics will cause unimaginable chaos. They must be stopped and contained at all costs before they tear our home apart."

A cold, dark realization washed over Divine Scarlet Elder’s face. His jaw set into a rigid, unyielding line, his dark eyes burning with fierce, martial pride.

"You are absolutely right, Peerless," Divine Scarlet Elder spat, his fist tightening around his saber hilt until his knuckles turned pale.

"Sect Leader Mao has grown blind, blinded by panic and foreign promises. It falls upon us, the true Elders of this foundation, to protect our people from this impending calamity. I will make sure my division keeps a sharp, lethal eye on every move these Paladins make."

Without waiting another second, Divine Scarlet Elder turned on his heel, his crimson robes snapping in the wind as he marched away down the corridor to rally his loyal faction.

Roy stood alone on the balcony, watching the Divine Scarlet Elder’s retreating back with a quiet, motionless gaze. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in deep thought.

With his true power, Roy could have easily used his divine authority or soul manipulation to completely mind-control and dominate Divine Scarlet Elder in a fraction of a second.

But a controlled puppet lacked the organic, volatile initiative of a desperate, proud man. Roy needed the red-haired Elder to retain his full sanity and fierce martial pride—at least for now.

He had successfully sown the deadly seed of discord and paranoia directly into the heart of the sect’s inner council.

Now, all that remained was to stand back and watch as that seed took root, sprouted, and tore the Glorious Mythical Sect apart from within.

A faint, wicked, and entirely ruthless smirk curled the corners of Roy’s borrowed lips beneath his dark hood as he looked down at the marching Paladins.

’Search all you want, little holy knights,’ Roy thought inwardly, his golden-crimson eyes glinting with cold, dark amusement.

’You will search every mountain peak, every valley, and every city... but you will never find the Apostle of the God of Beast. He does not exist where you look.’

He turned his back to the sunlit courtyard, walking slowly into the shadow of the main hall.

’And while you chase ghosts across the mountains, your righteous hunt will drag thousands of innocent mortals into the grave... paving my road of conquest with absolute blood.’