Chapter 220: The Priest’s Offer

News of the slaughter spread like wildfire through the alleys and taverns of Jayrel City, eventually spilling over into the remaining two major cities of the Northern Hashian region.

Despite the ongoing heresy investigation and the tight curfew imposed by the Glorious Mythical Sect, the Church of the God of the Sky found it impossible to completely suppress the truth.

The brutal, unprovoked massacre of an entire innocent family—a quiet, hardworking mother, a father, and two young children—had taken place in broad daylight, witnessed by neighbors who heard the terrified screams and saw the blood pooling into the dusty street.

Realizing they could not bury the incident, the Church of the God of the Sky immediately took control of the narrative.

Through their Paladin commanders, the Church issued a public proclamation, fully endorsing the actions of the two silver-armored warriors.

They branded the slaughtered family as devout, hidden cultists of the God of Beast, claiming that hidden demonic runes and blasphemous altars had been discovered beneath their floorboards.

The proclamation declared that the family had suffered rightful, divine judgment for resisting the holy envoys of the heavens.

The citizens of the three cities knew it was a blatant, monstrous lie.

The neighbors who had lived beside the family for decades knew they were humble, peaceful folk who had never touched dark magic in their lives.

Yet, no one dared to raise their voice. No one dared to protest.

An oppressive, suffocating cloud of terror descended over the population.

The mortals cowered in their locked homes, their hearts heavy with grief and fury, terrified that speaking a single word of truth would bring the silver-armored executioners to their own doorsteps to wipe out their lineages.

***

High above the suffering mortal realm, atop the highest peak of Mount Ryogoku, Roy stood quietly at the edge of a sheer mountain cliff.

The cold, howling wind whipped through his heavy, dark robes, tossing his long, silver hair around his stolen, wrinkled face.

He maintained the flawless form of the Peerless Supreme Elder, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he gazed down at the sea of white clouds floating over the valleys below.

"Quite pitiful..." Roy murmured softly, a faint, razor-thin smirk curling the corners of his aged lips. "To think those bloodthirsty fools went ballistic without me even making a single move."

His golden-crimson eyes glinted with dark, chilling amusement beneath his wrinkled brow.

"They have handed me the hearts of the people on a silver platter," Roy whispered to the howling wind. "Their arrogance has made everything so much easier for me."

"There you are, Peerless Supreme," a smooth, familiar voice suddenly disrupted Roy’s thoughts from behind.

Roy didn’t flinch.

He slowly turned his head to see Priest Arnold strolling up the stone path toward the cliff edge.

The red-haired cleric was dressed in his pristine, white-and-gold holy robes, his hands tucked casually into his long sleeves, maintaining that same gentle, picturesque smile upon his handsome face.

Roy’s eyes narrowed slightly, a quiet curiosity stirring beneath his calm facade. He wondered what brought the sky god’s high cleric all the way up to his secluded training grounds.

"High Priest Arnold," Roy greeted, bowing his head slightly with the grand, stoic dignity expected of a senior sect elder.

"Elder Peerless," Priest Arnold replied warmly, stepping up to stand beside Roy at the cliff’s edge.

He turned his gaze toward the endless expanse of clouds below, his smile remaining perfectly intact.

For a few long seconds, neither of them spoke, allowing the cold mountain wind to fill the silence.

Roy was the first to break the stillness, his raspy, elderly voice steady and flat. "May I ask what brings the High Priest of the Holy Church to my humble peak at such an hour?"

Priest Arnold let out a soft, amused chuckle, turning his head to look directly at Roy.

"Straightforward, aren’t we? Very well, then... I shall state my reason for coming here without useless pleasantries."

The cleric stepped closer, his blue eyes locking onto the aged face of the Peerless Supreme Elder with sharp, calculating interest.

"Tell me, Elder Peerless... what do you think about the position of a Priest within the Church of the God of the Sky?" Priest Arnold asked smoothly.

Before Roy could answer, Priest Arnold raised a hand and continued.

"I have observed the Elders of this sect since my arrival. Most are foolish, narrow-minded martial artists blindly clinging to decaying traditions. But you... you possess weight, patience, and true vision. If you are willing, I am prepared to pave a personal pathway for you to enter the Holy Church as a official Priest."

The cleric’s smile broadened, his tone dripping with temptation. "And should you break through your current bottlenecks and evolve into a true Martial Lord in the future... I will personally ensure you are elevated to the exalted rank of High Priest."

Roy remained completely motionless, his expression an unreadable mask of weathered stone.

He neither accepted nor rejected the offer, showing neither excitement nor hostility.

"The Holy Church does not hand out divine titles out of charity, High Priest," Roy spoke slowly, his raspy voice laced with sharp, ancient wisdom.

"What is it that you truly want from an old man like me?"

Priest Arnold inhaled deeply, his blue eyes shining with satisfaction.

He was clearly pleased that the veteran cultivator had not blatantly rejected his overture out of foolish sect loyalty.

"I appreciate a man who understands how the world functions," Priest Arnold said, his voice dropping into a low, confidential tone.

"The truth is simple, Elder Peerless. The Holy Church’s ambitions extend far beyond this small, isolated mountain range. Our supreme objective is to establish an absolute religious order across the entirety of the vast Jura Eastern Forest."

The cleric turned back toward the clouds, pointing a finger out into the horizon. "This Northern Hashian region... and your Glorious Mythical Sect... are merely the very first stepping stones in our grand conquest."

Priest Arnold turned his gaze back onto Roy, his smile turning sharp and predatory.

"I need someone inside this sect to act as my personal eyes and ears—someone who can report every hidden movement of Sect Leader Mao and his inner council directly to me. More importantly... I need a secret blade. An absolute insider who can quietly cut down and eliminate any resisting Elders who dare stand in the way of our Church’s integration."

The cleric reached into his robes and pulled out a small, golden insignia stamped with the emblem of a soaring eagle.

"If you agree to serve as my personal agent, Elder Peerless... when His Eminence, Cardinal Ryoger, personally arrives with our holy strike force in a few days, I will directly recommend you to him," Arnold promised, his tone heavy with absolute confidence.

"You will be granted unimaginable holy resources, high martial techniques, and an elevated status that this dying sect could never hope to offer you."

Roy stood entirely still on the cliff edge.

He stared down at the golden insignia in the cleric’s hand, pretending to be locked in deep, heavy contemplation.

He allowed a subtle flicker of internal conflict to pass over his stolen, wrinkled features, playing the part of an aging cultivator weighing his loyalties against his ambition.

After several long moments, Roy let out a slow, raspy breath and looked back up at Priest Arnold.

"This is a massive decision, High Priest," Roy said softly, his voice trembling slightly with artificial hesitation. "To turn against the foundation I have served for decades... I require time to carefully think this through."

Priest Arnold’s smile widened slightly. He withdrew the golden emblem and tucked it back into his robes, giving a satisfied nod.

"Fair enough, Elder Peerless. A wise man does not leap blindly into the fire," Priest Arnold replied smoothly.

He turned on his heel, taking a few steps back down the stone path, before pausing to look over his shoulder. "I shall wait for your answer. However... do keep in mind that my offer stands only until noon today. Do not keep the Holy Church waiting."

Without waiting for a response, Priest Arnold turned and sauntered away down the mountain path, his pristine white robes fluttering gracefully in the breeze.

Roy stood alone at the cliff’s edge, watching the red-haired cleric’s retreating figure until he disappeared beyond the bend.

The moment the priest was out of sight, the hesitant, elderly expression vanished from Roy’s face entirely.

His eyebrows furrowed into a tight, murderous scowl, and his golden-crimson eyes flared with a suffocating, lethal intent that turned the passing wind into ice.

’A secret blade to cut down your enemies?’ Roy thought, his lips curling into a cold, terrifying smile as his true divine pressure hummed beneath his skin.

’You arrogant, foolish little ant... you have no idea who you just handed a knife to.’