“Be careful, this batch is the cargo that the lord wants. If there’s any loss, neither you nor I can afford it!”
In the Eastern Border, a group of traders was hurriedly organizing their subordinates, continuously sending materials to the designated city.
The Demon Clan did not inform Monroe what this batch of goods was for; they simply instructed Monroe to transport it to the specified city.
Monroe did not find this strange; after all, trade between the Eastern Border and the Demon Clan had always been extensive, and these were just some relatively rare magical materials. Monroe wouldn’t dare deny the Demon Clan what they wanted.
The reason given by the Demon Clan was quite compelling: these casting materials were for preparing an assault from the Eastern Border to attack the Northern Border. With the combined forces of the Demon Clan and the Eastern Border, wouldn’t they easily conquer the Northern Border?
Unaware that these materials were soon to become his death sentence, Monroe was also piously praying to the Demon God for the Demon Clan in the Royal Capital, despite having recently heard that the Goddess had gradually started responding to her followers. Monroe already believed that only the Demon God could bring true salvation, and there was no turning back for him.
Furthermore, without the Northern Border, the offspring of the Demon God, those excellent warriors should have long since entered the Kingdom.
Monroe still believed it was not too late, as Princess Claire had finally felt the call of the Demon God and returned under his command.
Completely unaware that he was about to be sold, Monroe was helping Claire move in the shadows of the Royal Capital while also gathering materials for Supremacy Magic for the Demon Clan.
Since the great gates of the Eastern Border were entirely open to the Demon Clan, Altan and Oris also entered the Eastern Border without hindrance under the identity of temporary guests of the Demon Clan.
Looking at the desolate Eastern Border, Altan finally regained some confidence. After all, according to the reports from Caron and Altan, the forces in their location were exceedingly powerful. Excluding high-level professionals, they far surpassed Altan’s homeland.
Even the Demon Clan had a capable Demon King, which had once made Altan quite worried. Even if his homeland truly established a foothold on this continent, could they really fight against the monsters everywhere?
In the Eastern Border, Altan felt this was how a territory should normally appear. Along the way, the villages he passed were merely crumbling thatched huts and dilapidated houses haphazardly built from stone.
The overcast sky seemed to shroud the entire Eastern Border, and the air was filled with the stench of decay. This land appeared eternally suffocating and oppressive.
As Altan looked at the people along the way, he couldn’t even distinguish between serfs and free men; everyone was dressed in tattered linen clothes, their faces gaunt and dull, their skin rough from wind and poverty. Their eyes bore no hope, and they kept their gazes down. When they saw the horse-drawn carriage carrying Altan and the others, they immediately ran far away, fearing to look back.
For these people, this caravan loaded with materials and personnel was less appealing than the noble lord throwing grain into the lake for people to fish out, taking whatever they could catch.
Observing these individuals, who were no different from the lower class in his own homeland—and even more hopeless—Altan couldn’t help but sigh. This was how a normal noble territory should appear. The reports from Caron and Altan were indeed quite exaggerated, especially Altan, who nearly painted a picture of the Northern Border being a divine kingdom.
Moreover, what does it matter if the lower class is rich? In Altan’s eyes, a thousand people from the lower class couldn’t compare to a single high-level professional.
And Altan would soon prove that to Altan.
Once the horse-drawn carriages and cargo entered the city, the surroundings finally became lively. However, this place was more like a small town with a stone wall than a proper city; the entire area was hardly larger than the nearby lord’s castle.
If they counted the lord’s castle, the city’s area would not be astonishing and could be considered a medium-sized city, but if they overlooked the lord’s castle, this city truly could only be described as disappointing.
Yet, this was already one of the most prosperous cities in the Eastern Border, and it was also the most populous area of the Eastern Border, adjacent to the central region.
At this moment, the Demon Clan, doing business in the Eastern Border, had come to welcome Altan and the others. Looking around the environment, Altan curiously asked, “Are we really going to perform Supremacy Magic here? Isn’t that a bit wasteful?”
“What does it matter?” Oris replied dismissively. To him, as long as they could perform Supremacy Magic, the location didn’t matter. This was also the intention of the Avar Kingdom; as long as it demonstrated the extensive range and destructive power of Supremacy Magic, this continent would soon fall into chaos because of it.
Moreover, Antipa had already made a promise: as long as Supremacy Magic was performed, they would be allowed to establish a territory in the land they conquered for the Avar Kingdom.
The magic circle and boundaries for the spellcasting had long been prepared by the Demon Clan, and there was even no need to inform the local lord. This gave Altan a clear understanding of the Demon Clan’s influence in the Eastern Border and left him even more puzzled about Antipa’s decisions.
With the Eastern Border being so compliant, was the Demon Clan really planning to use Supremacy Magic to conquer it? Would it not be better to strike at the Northern Border, their lifelong enemy? Was the Northern Border really that dreadful?
But it didn’t matter; once the Supremacy Magic was activated, everything would be over.
The only thing that left Altan with lingering doubts was the flesh and blood that the Demon Clan requested to be included in the spellcasting materials. However, since Oris said it was no problem, it must surely be fine.
Although Oris had spent his life researching Supremacy Magic, to be honest, he had never seen the materials provided by the Demon Clan before, nor were they recorded in history. Yet after testing, this pile of flesh and blood turned out to be excellent magical materials. The embedded power could even stabilize the magic, though it was unclear where the Demon Clan had sourced these materials; they possessed a somewhat sinister quality.
If Oris had seen the research reports from Graythorn Territory, he would undoubtedly learn that this phenomenon was referred to as a transformation of magic power. These materials allowed the magic within Supremacy Magic to undergo some kind of property conversion, similar to how 550C could convert magic power into the Holy Light responsible for purification.
But clearly, the Avar Kingdom, which was studying how to increase the destructive power of Supremacy Magic, did not understand the transformation of magic power. They merely regarded this transformed magic power as a stable magical structure.
Just as Oris stepped into the center of the magic circle, completely unaware of what consequences his Supremacy Magic would unleash later, Graythorn Territory was about to welcome a special group of guests.
