Surviving The Fourth Calamity

Chapter 171: Chapter 22: Three Deities, Each With Their Own Destiny

Sitting by the window, Hill saw Fran flying through the sky from afar.

He hurriedly stood on the balcony to greet him, ”Grandfather, what brings you here?”

”I must know the truth,” Fran said, ”just how serious is it that only His Majesty the King can bear.”

Hill silently presented the draft, ”I have copied an official version, and let Mr. Snow Cloud Peak deliver it to His Majesty the King.

I think there will be a response soon.”

Fran took it over and browsed through with a serious expression—his hands flipping pages faster and faster until he finally cursed quietly, which was the first time Hill had ever seen Fran lose his composure like that.

”I’ll have Adrian copy it later,” Fran said as he slowly smoothed out the crumpled paper, ”I think His Majesty will soon send someone to take the items away.

Adrian needs to know what’s going on to avoid slipping up in a few days.”

Hill nodded, ”I will be careful as well.” Hill thought about the Water Elemental Lord who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, who probably knew a thing or two about the Goddess’s power—his might was probably not even comparable to William’s.

Fran was in a gloomy mood and simply said, ”You should not go out these days, List can represent you.

When the time comes for the welcome dinner, when nearly everyone has arrived, it will be enough to just show up.”

”But is it really okay for Uncle Adrian to receive these guests?” Hill asked, somewhat puzzled.

”He will just stay in the reception hall. He doesn’t need to exchange pleasantries with anyone who comes in, except for magisters or alchemist masters—just a nod of the head will do.

You can leave those people to Marsha, the Tower Spirit you have; List doesn’t even need to show up,” Fran said, patting Hill’s head. ”We just need to let everyone know that from now on in my tower, Adrian is in charge, and he will handle the orders.

I’m starting to strive for the legendary and don’t plan to accept custom work anymore.”

Hill suddenly understood and nodded his head, ”I understand.”

Fran composed himself a bit, ”I’m going out. When His Majesty takes away the items, I will have List notify you.”

Hill obediently nodded, watching Fran stomp his foot before taking off—an uncommon act of frustration.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

Junior mages learning the Flight Art, if not under strict discipline, tend to stomp their feet to take off, feeling like it helps them to gain some momentum.

When Hill was learning the Flight Art, Melanie’s Magic Book stressed not to stamp one’s feet.

Hill thought it was odd back then, but today he suddenly glimpsed a small corner behind the curtain.

Fran came from a small noble family, and it was solely his high talent that led him to the path of a mage, discerning the profound from the subtle. It was only after venturing out that he found a true mentor.

But learning from the most common Magic Books, many things had to be self-taught, leading to small but harmless issues.

Hill didn’t know what kind of emotional journey Fran had been through for Melanie’s Magic Book to specifically stress such a minor matter.

However, Fran was truly angry this time!

Hill could somewhat sympathize.

The truth behind the beast tide was so unbearable to him; how much more so for Fran, who was born and raised here?

The harrowing intrigues of nobility are indeed frightening, but they all know that everything they fight for only matters as long as this world exists.

All scheming and plotting are just under-the-table exchanges between them.

But the Goddess of the Spring wasn’t even part of that—choosing to betray the world at a critical moment of life and death.

Just for that bit of jealousy, She couldn’t care less about the humans who had worshiped Her for tens of thousands of years, who were to suffer such a grievous fate.

Hill looked up, watching Adrian fly toward him with a face full of confusion, and silently hoped that neither William nor the God of Time and Space would let the Goddess descend into the Abyss.

Even if there was that saying, becoming an Evil God, being so abhorrent, so miserable—compared to Her scrambling to survive, Hill wished She would be completely erased.

”Hill, did the teacher say to come and copy some documents?” Adrian landed with a face full of question marks.

”On the table, that wrinkled copy Grandfather left,” Hill gave him a subtle hint.

Perceiving that Hill didn’t wish to speak, Adrian solemnly went to copy the document.

Hill stood on the balcony, leaning against the door frame, quietly listening to the sounds of Adrian forcefully tapping on the table as he worked.

”Sir,” List appeared quietly, ”Mr. Snow Cloud Peak came with a few magicians, and they have transferred everything away.”

They opened a Portal to take it away! Could it be that it was directly sent to the Divine Kingdom of time and space?

Only there would it be absolutely safe, right?

”Did the Undead Tribe say anything?” Hill asked List softly.

”No, it seems Mr. Snow Cloud Peak was given a confidential task,” List understood what Hill wanted to know. ”But his implication was that within three days, he must go to the Temple of Time and Space in the capital Keslow for a purification blessing.

I saw Mr. Snow Cloud Peak was quite pleased, probably considering it a good reward.”

Hill was speechless, thinking that William was rewarding and at the same time silencing Snow Cloud Peak?

”Three days, huh!”

Hill felt his patience would suffice to wait.

”What about three days?” Adrian came out after finishing the copying.

”His Majesty the King commanded the Undead who delivered the message to receive a purification in the Temple of Time and Space for three days,” Hill gave him a look that suggested he figure it out himself. ”Grandfather must be eager to know the outcome.”

Adrian huffed a little and secured his copied documents, ”I’ll send them straight back to the Magic Tower. I’ll fetch some materials on the way.