Chapter 309: A Scorching Handle

  "Hehe, let what's legendary continue to be legend. I've never had much interest in legends." Pope smiled. With a flick of his fingers, which glowed with white light, the ring at the end of the hilt slid off. Just as the monstrous dark aura from the hilt was about to surge out, it had already dropped back into the Sunwell water in his pouch.

  "Congratulations, Your Majesty." Bishop Inham suddenly said.

  "Congratulations for what?" Pope looked at the bishop meaningfully. "Congratulations for getting this hot potato?"

  "No, I'm congratulating Your Majesty for not losing your composure and reason under the bewitching aura of this hilt, for not losing yourself. Your Majesty's strength of character has at least surpassed that of the previous Pope."

  "I've always been more interested in tangible things." Pope put the ring on his own finger, looked at it, smiled faintly, and nodded. Pleasant words are indeed loved by everyone, no matter how high their character or how deep their scheming, especially when what's said isn't wrong. "What, Inham, you're not interested in this thing either? As a member of Diya Valley, can you truly face this divine artifact and remain completely unmoved?"

  "Completely unmoved." Bishop Inham gave a bitter smile. "Every Necromancer, when receiving the brand of The Black Star, can clearly sense from their very souls the terror contained within this sword. So, besides those whose minds have been addled by desire and other things, no one is truly interested in that legendary Lich King."

  Pope nodded: "That's for the best. This is purely bait, to lure that young man here. To be honest, I really want to meet him."

  Soon, when Bishop Inham returned to Erathia, leaving only Pope and Lancelot. It was only then that Lancelot spoke up: "Your Majesty, I think it's still best to kill this man."

  As he said this, there was not the slightest hint of killing intent or ferocity on his face, as if he were giving a sincere suggestion to a friend. He was still honest, steady, and righteous, in perfect harmony with the title of Paladin.

  Pope didn't answer directly, but said: "Hmm, you were on the verge of making a move, weren't you? It's rare to see you show such hostility towards someone."

  From the moment he stepped in here, the distance between Lancelot and Bishop Inham, along with his lock on his aura and attention, were all in a state where he could strike at any moment and was almost about to. At such a distance, no mage could have the slightest chance of survival against a top-tier swordsman like him.

  Lancelot said in a deep voice: "Even if he wasn't the one behind that incident, the matter in Nighon is now finished, and the situation is clear. I feel that compared to his usefulness, his danger is much greater. It's better to kill this kind of person. Actually, I thought Your Majesty would surely agree."

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  Pope asked lightly: "Hmm, so where do you think his greatest danger lies?"

  Lancelot said in a deep voice: "His greatest danger lies in the fact that you can't seem to feel his danger at all. No matter how you look at it, it seems as if he truly needs nothing, has no ambition, and appears genuinely useful. But I always feel that he is very dangerous."

  "A feeling..." Pope narrowed his eyes, as if carefully savoring the "feeling" in Lancelot's words, then nodded. "Perhaps... but for now, we really can't kill him... We are about to launch another campaign against Oufu, and Erathia must be led by him. His relationship with Queen Katherine is our best bridge to control Erathia. Since he wants to show absolute cooperation and submission to me, that suits my purpose just fine. Moreover, his puppet Hawkeye's role in the war situation cannot be replaced by anyone else."

  "Everything is for Your Majesty to decide."

  "And now is neither the time to worry about him, nor about Oufu, but to worry about this." Pope pointed to the pouch that was now on the table. "Although this bait is large and good, it seems its temptation is a bit too great. I'm worried it might not only attract that young man, but also attract others."

  "Your Majesty means... Sandro and Agrael? And other Necromancers?"

  "It seems this young man was taking the hilt to Moriel, which means that neither Sandro nor Agrael are willing to wade into these muddy waters anymore. But this thing is, after all, a holy relic of Diya Valley from hundreds of years."

  Even though Diya Valley is now short-handed, even though the two acting guild masters have withdrawn, any individual or any force must still think again and again when facing the possibility of touching their bottom line.

  Pope gave a bitter smile and continued: "If I could, I really wouldn't want to take this hot item. But there's no choice... From the observation of the puppet Hawkeye, Oufu is already dispatching troops towards the Sanderfirth mountains, seemingly intending to open up mines there. The Tower of Fangs has also allied with them, helping them teach orc magic and produce scrolls..."

  "What? They're mining in the Sanderfirth mountains? How could the mages of the Tower of Fangs..." Lancelot's expression also changed. He was very clear what it meant to mine magic gems in the Sanderfirth mountains in large quantities and then turn them into scrolls.

  Pope smiled bitterly again, the smile growing more and more bitter. This old man, sitting at the pinnacle of power on the continent, now looked as bitter as a poor old man deep in debt to loan sharks. "As a mage, I understand them. I can imagine what it feels like to have a pile of Star-Eye and various top-tier magic gems in front of you... But once their production of scrolls and magical items reaches a certain scale, our situation will be dire. Can you imagine the scene of hundreds of top-tier magic spells like Blazing Might Shot Thunderblast Bomb being cast by orcs? That might be more spectacular than a Forbidden Spell, and I guarantee it would give us more of a headache than a Forbidden Spell... That would simply be the doom of humanity..."

  "So, at this time, that young man and The Black Star's hilt are our trump card, a trump card we must hold in our hands. Therefore, no matter how scorching this hilt is, I have to take it."

  "That young man and this hilt are the trump card against Oufu?" Lancelot frowned, his face full of confusion.

  "Yes, otherwise why have I kept telling you to bring that young man to me? I said, I'm only interested in tangible things. Ronis wanted that young man for the same reason back then... He's dead now, and I'm the only one left in this world who knows the secret discovered by His Majesty Dracon. I'm afraid even those Necromancers don't know this function of this sword. No, even if they knew, they probably wouldn't dare to do it..."

  Pope let out a long sigh and patted the armrest of his seat. He now appeared very weary. "This position is not easy to sit in... At the highest position on the continent, naturally comes the heaviest burden..."

  "Rest assured, Your Majesty. Do whatever you need to do." Lancelot went down on one knee. "No matter the enemy, no matter what happens, I, Lancelot, will surely protect you completely."

  "Hmm, you have always been the person I trust most, the one I'm most at ease with." Pope smiled as he looked at the Paladin before him, his eyes holding a genuine look of relief. "Because I know very well that you are not loyal to me. You are loyal to everyone."

  Pope walked down from his seat, came before Lancelot, and helped him up. "You are not my subordinate; I can't afford a subordinate like you. You are my friend."