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Chapter 480: The First Temple of the Serpent of Fate in the Pale City
🕑 Added 2025-06-02 15:10:01 +0000 UTCCharlot thoughtfully provided a crew of ghostly sailors. As for what fate awaited those who ventured to the New Continent aboard ghost ships? Apologies, even Charlot himself couldn’t be certain.
At any rate, Charlot prided himself on being trustworthy and warned the ghostly sailors to behave and avoid exposing their true nature as sinister spirits.
Some ghost ships, especially those submerged in seawater for fewer years, appeared relatively pristine. Their crews were only mildly decayed, and at a glance, they looked no different from living humans—except for their inability to sail under the sun.
Charlot conducted several experiments along the way. When sailing during the day, the ghost ships had to submerge underwater…
Although they could technically sail under sunlight, doing so would accelerate their decay.
The portly merchant Charlot had dealt with was equally reliable. He introduced Charlot to a clerk in the Pale City who expedited the necessary permits for missionary activities. The ten parcels of land promised in the transaction were delivered without issue. The merchant had staked his entire fortune on this venture and had no intention of leaving himself an exit strategy in the Pale City.
Both parties were straightforward. Three days later, the merchant set sail with all his possessions.
It wasn’t until after he set sail and inspected the ship’s hold that he was delighted to discover a batch of cargo. This cargo was well-sealed, and most of it remained in good condition. Its value nearly equaled his entire fortune.
Leaving this joyful merchant’s tale for now, Charlot soon gathered a workforce and began constructing the first temple of the Serpent of Fate.
This workforce consisted partly of locals and partly of Charlot’s own men. The locals primarily idled about, while Charlot’s subordinates—labyrinth guardians, nearly all of whom were extraordinary individuals—did the heavy lifting. Their immense strength made them incredibly efficient. They could move the massive stones needed for the temple’s construction with ease, often outpacing even the best machinery.
In just seven or eight days, the temple of the Serpent of Fate was largely complete. Charlot even made a silent prayer, hoping the Serpent of Fate would “bless” the temple.
The Serpent of Fate was obliging, indeed bestowing divine radiance!
What had been a simple temple of stacked stones now gleamed with decorative murals, intricate carvings, sculptural embellishments, and ornate columns. A central statue of the Serpent of Fate appeared in the temple’s heart.
Overjoyed, Charlot immediately recruited a volunteer from his fleet of Serpent of Fate believers to serve as the temple’s priest and began formally hiring clergy. While many locals in the Pale City expressed newfound faith in the Serpent of Fate, this faith was shallow—insufficient to produce God Pact Holders. Charlot reluctantly gathered numbers first, planning to address devotion later.
On the third day after the temple’s completion, nearly all residents of the Pale City experienced a vivid dream. They saw a golden-armored deity angrily urging them to destroy the temple of the Serpent of Fate and warning that it would bring disaster upon their city.
By morning, throngs of residents filled the streets, marching toward the temple in a furious mob.
Charlot had no such dream, but many of his newly recruited clergy, whose faith wavered, had. Sensing the tense atmosphere upon waking, Charlot questioned several individuals and quickly learned of the issue.
He had no choice but to lead a group of labyrinth guardians out of the temple, forming a defensive line.
Facing the angry mob clamoring to tear down the temple, Charlot sighed deeply. He could not allow such destruction, especially after the Serpent of Fate had shown favor. Muttering to himself, he said, “I had hoped to resolve this peacefully, but it seems there’s no avoiding a fight.”
The residents at the forefront shouted, “They’re evil gods! They spread faith only to harvest our souls. We cannot let these heretics propagate their beliefs here. Tear down the temple and bury these foreigners alive!”
Charlot knew there was no reasoning with such fervent zealots. No argument would sway them. Raising his hands, he was about to give the command to attack when a voice sounded in his ear: “What’s the matter, Charlot? Encountering trouble? Why not consult your teacher?”
Turning, Charlot saw Juno Arthur and was overjoyed. “Teacher, why are you here? Can you possibly deal with these fanatics of the false gods?”
Juno smiled faintly and said, “Evil gods are ultimately constrained by their own rules. They have weaknesses aplenty.”
Juno winked and added, “Surely you haven’t forgotten that your teacher is adept at Dreamcrafting arts?”
The Old Continent’s most formidable Saint extended a finger and calmly incanted, “May all life succumb to slumber. May all souls roam freely within the dream. I shall govern your dreams, and your understanding shall yield to my will.”
Juno Arthur demonstrated the power of the vampire bloodline’s greatest: the Grand Dreamscape Spell.
Under this enchantment, thousands of Pale City residents froze mid-rage, their eyes glazed as they sank into the dreamscape.
Charlot was also drawn into the dreamscape, witnessing his teacher radiating golden light and clad in golden armor, proclaiming loudly, “Someone stole my power yesterday and issued a false oracle. The true bringer of calamity to this city is Yannis, the priest who betrayed me…”
Charlot couldn’t help but remark, “Teacher, your ability to twist the truth is unparalleled.”
Juno finished his rousing speech and descended, asking, “Have you learned it now?”
Charlot nodded, replying, “Dreamcrafting arts can only guide existing momentum and cannot force drastic change. That’s why you didn’t order them to destroy the Golden Temple—it would have broken the illusion and awakened them. Instead, by redirecting their ire to a specific priest, the manipulation succeeded.”
Juno smiled. “You are truly my finest student.”
“Now you understand how the Blood Clan Verbal Spellcasting can be used in combat?”
Charlot’s admiration for Juno knew no bounds. He had never imagined the power of the Arthur Clan’s Bloodline Arts could be so overwhelming. Whether it was the Grand Prophecy Spell or this Grand Dreamscape Spell, they were unmatched as tools of mass dominance. On the battlefield, Juno was undoubtedly the Old Continent’s strongest.
Even compared to other races—be it humans or orcs—none had techniques of this magnitude.
As the two exited the dreamscape, the residents of the Pale City awoke. Now filled with fury, they turned to attack the Golden Temple. Soon, an elderly man’s panicked voice echoed: “Do not believe the heretical lies! I am Agmirlas’s representative—I would never betray the Labyrinth God…”
Charlot used the Swiftstep Technique to slip into the crowd unnoticed and soon saw the aged priest being tied to a wooden stake. Around him, a pyre was prepared. A young, handsome man, holding a torch, wore a gentle smile.
When Charlot recognized the man with the torch, his blood ran cold. He knew that face too well and involuntarily exclaimed, “Captain Huntington!”
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