Chapter Seventy-Four: The Sun Project
The pressure on the Empire’s emperor is immense.
A detailed document, stamped with a seal, lies on the desk.
It contains testimonies from several Hell Knights, who swear that every word they utter is true: the White Booted Hero, George, has vanished into thin air.
The Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights continues to speak vehemently, recounting encounters from Zieg to Jima, then to Shalin City, the Obsidian Pass, and finally to the pursuit of the fragments of the Demon King’s crown.
This tall commander, clad in battle armor and exuding authority, has silver hair flashing even at her waist.
In her final remarks, she points at George:
“Now, you, from Zieg to Zieg’s succubus, have grown into a new Demon King, adding another great enemy to the Order faction. She has taken my fearsome warhorse and rides an ox; it is said she has also summoned a demon army.
“It stands below our grand army, like a dagger, pointing at our abdomen.
“And at this time, George is still infatuated with his lover, with nothing to say. If not for him wielding a longsword and speaking hollow words, the so-called sorcerers would have long since hung him and thrown him on the pyre for roasting.”
The Empire’s emperor raises his head and asks:
“Hero, do you have any rebuttals?”
“My actions and motives are legitimate—for the Order race, to save the world.”
“So, you’re damnably colluding with demons?” the Grand Knight Commander retorts scornfully. “You only speak the truth, so you use truth to deceive. What does ‘legitimate’ mean? Is it allowing evil corruption to eat away at our flesh and will, turning us into twisted monsters?”
“Of course not.”
“Speak plainly; have you colluded with the Demon King Jima? In front of everyone, facing all present, if you don’t answer yes or no, it will be taken as an affirmation of your collusion.”
This is a high-level meeting of the Empire.
Everyone present holds significant status and martial prowess, and most share the same characteristic: they are tough as nails.
Several archmages glare at George with hostility, whispering:
“Heretics cannot be trusted.”
Many of the Grand Knights of the Hell Knights look at George with eager anticipation; they admire his bravery in battle.
The Empire’s generals scrutinize him doubtfully. The Grand Knight of the Hell Knights plants her hands on the table, her milky-white robe and tall boots, staring intently at George.
Out of politeness, George glances at her, then gazes steadily at the Emperor:
“Your Majesty, I implore a private meeting with you. I must show you my evidence; it is of utmost importance. Aside from you, I trust no one.”
Someone asks, “Why the emperor?”
George replies: “The only one I can trust is the emperor. If I misplace my trust, regardless of whether I present evidence, the Empire will be doomed.”
These words almost infuriate everyone present. The implication is that none of you are trustworthy; you’re all potential spies for the demon race or possible cultists.
Someone impulsively draws their sword, but fortunately, someone stops them.
The Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights calmly says: “There is another possibility: that you wish to murder the emperor or deceive him.
“Without the emperor, the Empire is no different from demons; they would directly clash, with the imperial lords attacking each other.”
This prompts dissatisfaction from the representative count of the Hawk Dominion present.
“Such a possibility is slim, but that does not mean it will not happen; therefore, George, you must swear.”
George earnestly swears.
She says: “Alright, I understand now. You’ve fallen to an alternative form of corruption. The Demon King Jima must have set you up in some way, surely promising you the power to save the world. Regardless of how others doubt you, you will believe it is a test of your faith and will.
“So, Your Majesty, I advise you not to listen to George; his request for a private conversation with you is to create an environment where you lose your greatest advantage and cannot leverage the wisdom of the Empire’s capable ones.”
The emperor, his chin raised, looks around with a feigned serious expression, contemplating a joke:
“I heard a cold joke…”
The Hall of Saints’ troops ambushed in a canyon, attempting to ambush a tribe of beastmen. They hired professional hunters, consulted veterans, and even employed magic for concealment, ensuring victory.
As the beastmen’s vanguard approached the canyon, they shouted: “Hey, Pauls, are you ambushing us?”
“No way!” echoed back from the canyon’s dense forest. “Yes, we are the Hall of Saints’ troops…”
The stoic clerks suddenly burst into laughter; as state church ministers, they naturally regard the Hall of Saints with disdain.
These five clerks, renowned for their coldness, unexpectedly added an element of hilarity to the joke. The other Empire generals and knight captains also chuckled.
Initially, the Empire’s emperor didn’t find it amusing, but he couldn’t help but laugh as well.
The tension that had filled the air is now significantly dissipated.
The Empire’s emperor restrained his smile and turned to George: “Alright, if I can be deceived by the Hall’s holy warriors, then the Empire will perish at my hands. Everyone, please leave; I need privacy with the hero.”
Only the Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights did not laugh; she coldly remarked, “Cunning is not deceit; sincerity is the greatest lie.”
And she exited the tent.
The magical barrier rose up.
“Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Your Majesty.” George said cautiously, pulling out his notebook: “I must confess, I colluded with the Demon King Jima.”
“What?”
“I reached an agreement with her to fight together against the Eternal Chosen. I believe that the Doomsday Army cannot destroy the Eternal Chosen.”
The emperor, filled with ambition, looked at George, crossing his arms.
It seems the Grand Knight Commander was correct; that one-eyed woman can accurately assess people.
George must have been deceived, convinced of his rightness, unaware that he had fallen into a trap of corruption.
Regardless, he must never push the Empire into the abyss.
The emperor thought this, looking at the notebook with a biased outlook.
The glowing screen made him step back two or three steps in caution.
George opened a folder named “Nuclear Explosion Collection,” filled with videos of nuclear explosions.
These were the nuclear weapon testing routes of the human nation of Ammerika…
The images showed fire clouds rising straight into the sky, rolling and forming mushroom clouds. The shockwaves swept houses, trees, sending buildings flying, branches waving in the shockwave until they turned to ashes.
Video after video flashed before the Empire’s emperor’s eyes: exploding seas, blowing up ships…
All destructive forces in the world pale in comparison, like fireflies next to the sun.
George’s voice reached the Empire’s emperor: “This is the ultimate power from a world called Terra…”
The Empire’s emperor returned to his senses, realizing he was leaning on the table, his nose almost touching the screen, instinctively asking: “What power?”
George said: “A power comparable to the sun.”
“How many of these weapons do you have?”
“Only one, with a yield of three hundred thousand.” George replied: “Recently, she went to the elf mages like Suanyiyi, infusing it with arcane power, and prophesied that it could detonate normally.”
The Empire’s emperor stared, dumbfounded.
The Grand Knight Commander of the Hell Knights was right; this seemed too much like a scam, not knowing what strange things to present and emphasizing that there was only one to force him to compromise.
But he despised his own weakness, as he couldn’t help but fantasize what if this mushroom cloud bloomed over the heads of the Eternal Chosen.
The Doomsday Army would be reduced to ashes, the Empire wouldn’t perish, and he could finally breathe a sigh of relief, hastily passing the throne to a true emperor to take over.
He would continue to be the frivolous dandy he truly was.
“I believe you and understand the reason why you insisted on meeting me alone.” The Empire’s emperor took a deep breath, asking: “What do you need?”
To unleash the power of this sole nuclear bomb, George said: “I hope the Empire’s army does not retreat from the Hawk Dominion; we are north of the central mountain range, with the Rick River below, the terrain is narrow…”
“You want me to keep an eye on it, striking a confrontation pose, so the Doomsday Army can cluster as much as possible?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s almost impossible.”
The Empire’s emperor hesitated unusually: “I must discuss this with the electoral lords.”
“I understand.” George said: “It’s fine if you don’t do it, but the effectiveness won’t be as good.”
