The ancient palace emerged into view, standing several kilometers away yet visible in startling clarity to all present.
"What is this?" Even Zorath the Silent had noticed the structure. Though half-collapsed, its extraordinary nature was undeniable. His eyes suddenly gleamed with realization: "This architecture... it resembles buildings from the Undead Calamity three thousand years ago..."
With that thought, he immediately barked orders: "Divine Martial Knights and Dark Temple forces—secure that palace! Encircle Thousand Moon Lake at once!"
Not to be outdone, a Temple elder coldly snapped in response: "Temple forces, heed my command! The White Feather Knights will lead the encirclement of Thousand Moon Lake!" Anyone could see this ancient palace was no ordinary ruin. With so many factions gathered at the lakeside camp, none would allow the Sacred Council to monopolize its secrets.
Other major factions swiftly mobilized, tightening their formations around the lake. Yet despite the tense standoff, none dared make a move—not while the Grand Speaker and the Pope still clashed overhead. Even approaching the palace was impossible.
The mere residual mana from their battle would be enough to pulverize entire knight orders.
Kael frowned. He knew the moment their duel concluded, these forces would draw blades in an instant.
Beyond the Temple, other groups stirred restlessly, their positions subtly forming a perimeter around the lake.
Kael narrowed his eyes, waiting for the two legendary figures beneath the heavens to finish their duel...
Now, their battle seemed to near its climax. The six elemental forces swirling around them collided with ever-greater violence, each impact tearing through the void with thunderous detonations. The very sky darkened under the chaos.
Kael shook his head. As the fight approached its end, the unleashed power grew too overwhelming—far beyond what he could comprehend, let alone learn from. All he could do now was hope for its swift conclusion.
An endless storm of magic raged on, stirring unease among both the Sacred Council and the Temple factions. By now, none could say with certainty who would emerge victorious from this battle.
"No wonder they say legendary mages can level cities with ease. Judging by the Grand Speaker and the Pope's display, it truly seems effortless," Kael mused.
Truthfully, at his current strength, Kael himself could obliterate a small town with a few 10th-tier spells—though not without considerable strain. Such was the advantage of a mage: even a single 10th-tier spellcaster could force territorial lords to retreat in fear.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion tore through the sky as if thunder had split the heavens. The very fabric of space was rent apart. Though the Grand Speaker and the Pope had long since ascended kilometers into the sky to duel, the residual magic still lashed downward, threatening Kael and the others below.
Even the sun dimmed, its light snuffed out.
BOOM!
Another earth-shaking detonation followed. Soldiers nearby collapsed unconscious, while others clutched their ears, deafened by the ringing aftermath.
Then—silence.
The abrupt calm left the crowd stunned. Was this the final clash between the two titans?
"Who won?" The question burned in every mind.
Under the heavens, the figures of the Grand Speaker and the Pope slowly descended.
The Grand Speaker's expression remained unreadable, his composure unshaken. The Pope, however, looked pale, his grip on the golden staff trembling faintly.
"This… could it be…?" Kael's heart leapt. Did the Grand Speaker win?
The Pope's gaze locked onto the Grand Speaker. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice tight: "A lesson well taught. Your Eminence stands peerless—a mere half-step from the realm of the Archmage. You've bested me this day."
The Pope had conceded defeat.
The Grand Speaker had won.
"Merely fortune's favor," the Grand Speaker replied with a faint smile.
As the Grand Speaker's words faded, the Sacred Council's members erupted into cheers. The Divine Martial Knights and the Twelve Senators wore expressions of unrestrained triumph—the Threefold Duel Pact had been won, thanks to Kael's involvement and the Grand Speaker's decisive final victory!
The Grand Speaker's power now stood a mere half-step from the Archmage realm, a terrifying testament to his strength.
The Sacred Council's victory meant it would retain its position as the leading force within the Human Alliance. Kael exhaled deeply in relief—this outcome greatly favored him. As a high-ranking member of the Sacred Council, he and Refis City would continue to enjoy its unwavering support for as long as the Council endured.
While the Sacred Council's morale soared, the Temple's side fell into a suffocating silence, their defeat absolute.
With a faint smile, the Grand Speaker turned his gaze to the Pope and asked coolly, "Your Holiness, since the Sacred Council has prevailed in the Threefold Duel, do you still honor our prior agreement?" His eyes sharpened, locking onto the Pope with unyielding intensity.
After a pause, the Pope replied, "Of course."
"Good. Then let it be known—the Sacred Council remains the helm of the Human Alliance. Does any faction object?" The Grand Speaker's voice rang out clearly, reaching every ear in the assembly as his gaze swept across the leaders of the major powers.
"Crimson Moon City raises no objection!" Immediately, the Council's ally Crimson Moon City voiced its support.
"The Emerald Spire concurs."
"The Crystal Tower also stands with the Council..."
With these endorsements, the matter was swiftly settled. The Sacred Council's position as the foremost authority in the Human Alliance was now unshakable.
After all, no faction—save the Temple—could challenge the Council's supremacy. With the Temple's defeat, the others dared not entertain dissent.
The Grand Speaker's eyes shifted to the distant palace, its ancient form emerging from the drained bed of Thousand Moon Lake. This relic had now become the focal point of the next conflict.
The Pope gave a light cough, his gaze fixed on the ancient palace as a glint flashed in his eyes. "A palace ruin from the Undead Calamity three thousand years ago! This structure lies on the western shore of Thousand Moon Lake—by rights, it belongs to the Temple!"
Even in defeat, his ambition burned undimmed. He refused to relinquish his claim.
Kael stiffened. This palace dates back to the Undead Calamity? Its origins alone were enough to ignite frenzy—any relic from that era would be priceless...
The Undead Calamity period had marked the zenith of magical civilization across the three continents. Back then, even Archmages numbered in the several, let alone those nearing their realm.
And within this ancient palace? There might well be treasures left behind from that cataclysmic age.
The Pope's declaration sent every eye locking onto the ruin.
Slowly, the Pope raised his hand. The White Feather Knights advanced at once, their silver-armored ranks forming a cold, solemn guard around him.
The Grand Speaker smiled, though his gaze turned razor-sharp. "Your Holiness, you lost the Threefold Duel. Thousand Moon Lake now falls under the Sacred Council's jurisdiction—this palace included. I must insist the Temple withdraw its knights."
The Pope scoffed, refusing to yield. Though bested in their duel, he remained unharmed and battle-ready. "This ruin emerged during our clash, before the duel's conclusion. It has no ties to your Council. By all rights, it is the Temple's property."
As the Sacred Council and the Pope sparred over the ancient structure, the other faction leaders stirred restlessly.
"Your Eminence, Your Holiness—this dispute serves no one." The Crimson Moon City's lord stepped forward, interjecting with practiced diplomacy.
Tension hung thick as gunpowder. All eyes swiveled to the mediator.
"Oh? Do enlighten us," the Pope said coolly, eyeing the Crimson Moon lord with muted surprise.
The man—a portly, bearded middle-aged figure—smiled genially. "Today's battle has wearied us all. Why not adjourn and reconvene tomorrow for a decision?"
None of the factions would back down easily. Attempting to monopolize the palace now would only trigger an all-out war.
Kael's mind raced. The Crimson Moon lord is playing for time—delaying the inevitable.A temporary reprieve, but tomorrow's reckoning loomed.
The Pope was the first to agree. After his duel with the Grand Speaker, even he felt some exhaustion.
The Grand Speaker paused, weighing his options. Though he had gained the upper hand in their battle, forcing the Sacred Council's claim on the palace now would likely provoke another clash with the Pope—or worse, an all-out war between the Sacred Council and the Temple. After all, despite their defeat, the Temple remained the Council's greatest rival.
After a moment of consideration, the Grand Speaker nodded as well.
"Very well. We shall reconvene tomorrow to settle this matter."
The others murmured their assent. Kael, however, narrowed his eyes. The ancient palace intrigued him greatly. Now at the peak of the 10th tier, just a step away from the 11th, he knew relics from three thousand years ago might hold treasures to push his strength even further.
"Kael, there's a power within that even I can't decipher!" the little cat whispered urgently.
Kael stiffened. If even the cat is baffled, this palace must be extraordinary. He studied the structure again—it wasn't overly large, making exploration feasible.
If this palace has surfaced, I'll make sure to claim my share of its secrets, Kael resolved, his gaze sharpening.
Seeing both the Grand Speaker and the Pope agree, the Crimson Moon City's lord exhaled in relief. The real struggle would come tomorrow.
But then, the Grand Speaker spoke again, his calm voice cutting through the murmurs. "As the leading force of the Human Alliance, the Sacred Council has an announcement to make."
All eyes snapped back to him.
"Recent intelligence confirms a surge of vampire activity near Dusk Moon City in the southern continent—including sightings of a Vampire Duke."
"What?!"
The crowd, still scheming over the ancient palace, froze in collective shock.