Chapter 259: Mauresis’ Special Task

High atop the wind-swept peak of Mount Iron-Fang, overlooking the vast, mist-covered northern ravines, Mauresis stood in total isolation.

The divine construct did not flinch as cold, gale-force winds howled across the cliffside, whipping his long, blood-crimson cloak out behind him like a banner of impending war.

Hands clasped loosely behind his back, Mauresis stared with his single glowing eye toward the south, his magnificent white wings tightly folded against his back like massive shields of pristine ivory.

He remained as motionless as a ancient statue, radiating an aura of terrifying, quiet majesty that kept even the mountain eagles from flying within miles of the peak.

The sound of soft, rapid footsteps echoed over the frozen gravel behind him.

Cardinal Ryoger, dressed in his grand scarlet ceremonial robes and holding his golden, sun-crested staff, approached the edge of the cliff.

The aged cardinal bowed his head low, his eyes filled with fanatical, unwavering reverence as he addressed the celestial entity.

“Lord Mauresis,” Ryoger reported, his voice raspy yet filled with suppressed excitement.

“The advance vanguard has been successfully deployed across the southern border, exactly according to your divine layout. Five of our finest Holy Paladins, led by Captain Gerald, are currently making their entry into the territory of the Crimson Key Sect.”

Ryoger took a step closer, his eyes glinting with ruthless calculation. “If my estimates are correct, we should receive the soul-shatter notification from Captain Gerald’s life-talisman within the hour. The moment his blood spills upon southern soil under the guise of cultist aggression, our entire crusade force will have the absolute, undisputed right to march south and eradicate every living soul in the Hashian ranges.”

Mauresis did not turn his head, keeping his singular golden eye fixed on the southern horizon.

A faint, serene smile touched his lips.

“You have done exceptionally well, Ryoger,” Mauresis spoke, his voice carrying a metallic, multi-layered resonance that sounded like thousands of chime-bells ringing in unison.

“Your devotion to the grand design of the glorious divine sky is noted. The mortals of this lower continent are arrogant, clinging to their petty sect squabbles while blinding themselves to the true hierarchy of existence. It is only a matter of time now. Soon, everything will be over.”

Cardinal Ryoger bowed his head even lower, letting out a soft sigh of satisfaction.

However, after a moment of quiet hesitation, the old cardinal looked up, a hint of curiosity flickering in his narrow eyes.

“May I dare to ask, my Lord… once the foul followers of this ‘God of Beast’ are thoroughly purged from the face of this continent, what will become of our campaign? What are the divine instructions for the Church of the God of the Sky?”

Mauresis let out a soft, melodic chuckle, the sound entirely devoid of human emotion.

“When the blasphemous cult is extinguished and its divine threads are severed,” Mauresis revealed smoothly, turning slightly so his golden eye locked onto the Cardinal, “my duty in this mortal plane will officially be concluded. I shall tear open the sky-gates and return to the golden halls of the Sun Pantheon to stand beside my creator once more.”

He raised a hand, waving it dismissively over the sweeping view of the continent below.

“Once I depart, the Church of the God of the Sky will be entirely free to do whatever it pleases with this continent,” Mauresis continued, his tone dry and indifferent.

“Annex the southern mountain ranges, enslave the regional sects, rewrite their history, harvest their faith… It matters not to the higher realms. My sole, absolute task given by the King-tier True God is the total destruction of the Church of the God of Beast. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Cardinal Ryoger’s heart leaped with avarice and joy.

To know that an entire, rich continent would be left completely in the hands of his church once the divine entity departed was the ultimate reward he had prayed for.

“However, Ryoger,” Mauresis added, his voice dropping into a sharp, commanding register that instantly snapped the cardinal back to attention.

“Before I leave you to your conquest, there is a final, critical task you must execute for me.”

“Command me, Lord Mauresis! I shall fulfill it with my life!” Ryoger proclaimed, pressing his hand against his chest.

“Do not grow complacent merely because we are hunting their forward squads,” Mauresis instructed, his single eye glowing with an eerie, analytical light. “I need you to deploy your dark scouts and high-tier diviners to thoroughly investigate the true origin of this ‘God of Beast’. I want the exact coordinates of their true headquarters—their ancestral realm, their holy land, or whatever hidden sanctuary their master hides in. I will not merely trim the branches of this heresy, Ryoger. I intend to march to their very doorstep and burn their root to absolute ash.”

“It shall be done, my Lord!” Ryoger declared passionately, bowing deeply. “I will mobilize our shadow priests immediately to track every lead!”

***

Meanwhile, inside the Emerald Purity Sect.

While the shadows of a continental war deepened in the North and South, a very different kind of storm was brewing within the peaceful, bamboo-covered hills of the Emerald Purity Sect.

It had been exactly twenty-four hours since Naen and his three fellow outer disciples had returned from their routine foraging mission in the lower valleys near Mount Laobao.

Under normal circumstances, four low-ranking outer disciples returning from a gathering run would not warrant a single glance from anyone in the sect.

They were considered the bottom tier of the cultivator hierarchy—disciples with mediocre talent who were expected to spend years performing menial labor just to earn a single low-grade spirit stone.

Yet, from the moment Naen and his three companions stepped through the grand outer gates, the entire lower district of the Emerald Purity Sect had been thrown into utter chaos.

They had returned as completely changed men.

Before their departure, Naen and his group had been struggling at the Initial-stage of the fundamental Martial Warrior.

Yet, when they returned as something different.

Something powerful.

All four of them had somehow shattered their bottlenecks overnight, completely skipping multiple sub-stages to evolve directly into genuine Martial Masters.

Word of this impossible feat spread through the sect like wildfire on dry grass.

Inside the sprawling, open-air pavilion of the Outer Disciple Housing District, hundreds of disciples had gathered, forming a dense, murmuring crowd around the small wooden courtyard where Naen was sitting.

“Is… is the rumor really true?!” an outer disciple whispered frantically to his friend, leaning over the wooden railing.

“Brother Naen was only at the Initial-stage of the Martial Warrior realm two days ago! How could his aura be so thick now?!”

“Look at his skin! Look at his eyes!” another inner disciple, dressed in the refined blue robes of the higher tier, remarked with a heavy frown as he observed from a nearby roof.

“His meridians are practically brimming with refined mana! That isn’t just a breakthrough—that is a total re-forging of his martial foundation! It’s as if a grand senior washed his marrow with divine medicine!”

“Four of them!” another voice chimed in from the crowd. “It wasn’t just Naen! All four of the disciples who went with him broke through to the Martial Master realm on the exact same night! That is statistically impossible!”

The courtyard was buzzing with endless gossip, wild theories, and intense jealousy.

Some claimed Naen had stumbled upon the ancient, hidden cave of a deceased Martial Lord. Others speculated they had consumed a rare, thousand-year-old spirit herb.

Sitting cross-legged on a simple stone bench in the center of the courtyard, Naen kept his eyes closed, holding a simple wooden tea cup in his hands.

On the surface, he appeared entirely calm, accepting the awe and envy of the surrounding disciples with a quiet, polite smile.

His new, Martial Master aura pulsed steadily around him, solid and undeniable.

However, beneath his calm exterior, Naen’s spirit was bound to something far greater.

Deep within his mind, embedded into the very fabric of his soul sea, was the glowing, unyielding divine imprint left behind by Roy—the absolute, supreme mark of the God of Beast.

Every breath Naen took, every cycle of his newly expanded meridians, served as a living bridge, quietly broadcasting the subtle, divine resonance of his new master right into the heart of the Emerald Purity Sect.

As he raised his cup to take a slow sip of tea, Naen’s eyes flickered with a brief, hidden flash of golden-crimson light.

He could feel it—the gaze of several core sect elders watching him from the high towers in the distance.

The bait had been swallowed.

The curiosity of the upper management was officially piqued, exactly as his divine master had ordained.

Just as the God of Beast designed.