Chapter 1259: The Brave Isma’i
That was no ordinary statue or plaster cast, nor was it the yellowed stone of a petrified being. It was more akin to the style of old black-and-white films.
The color had been completely stripped from everyone, leaving only black, white, and varying shades of gray. They were frozen in their exact poses, sealed in place from seemingly nowhere. Some sneered at Eivass, others laughed heartily with companions, while some gazed at Eivass with fiery eyes. But at this moment, they were all rendered utterly silent.
It was as if the entire world had solidified—
Those protected by Eivass’s Preservation Technique remained sepia-toned. Meanwhile, everyone around Isma’i had turned black, white, and gray. In the entire world, only he and Eivass were in color. Beyond them, there was no fifth hue.
Even the Lord of Good—even Mahidifran, without any power to resist, was instantly swallowed by this force! Mahidifran remained in the pose of riding an elephant, transforming into a seated gray statue. As the Lord of Good, Mahidifran would undoubtedly possess ample equipment for protection, yet it was all rendered useless. Not even for a moment did it endure before completely crumbling.
What kind of power was this! This incomprehensible might filled Isma’i with profound fear— It was like surfing on a sandy sea, where the crest of a wave suddenly transformed into a ferocious living creature, a giant human head emerging to smile at him, then turning to shatter the next wave that followed.
On the other side, Eivass let out a soft sigh. The experiment was successful. At least it wasn’t the worst-case scenario—unlike complete nullification, instantaneous draining of mana, or the danger of a portal to the Dream Realm opening the moment of summoning. Forcing a summon of an Illusion Card beyond its “version”—it couldn’t fully manifest Amber, but it could use some of its divine power, which was already quite satisfying for Eivass.
Eivass gazed at the cards in his hand, gently wiping the card depicting a little girl with a serene, mother-like smile directed at him. For a brief moment, Inanna had indeed been summoned, and space had even fractured because of it. But she had vanished an instant later. Yet, in that fleeting instant, her summon effect had taken hold. The card was now on cooldown, proving that the summon had indeed been successful.
That power, which applied an “old photograph filter” or perhaps a “memorial photo filter,” was likely the “End of Civilization” state. After these people were petrified, the spatial crack beside Eivass quickly healed. This meant it wouldn’t create an irreparable hole in the Wall of Balance, allowing the Void’s power to leak through. Appearing for only two to three seconds, those giant cracks, longer than Eivass’s legs, slowly closed like eyes, one by one.
But at least, it was effective! It could certainly function as a Spell Card. At worst, it would simply become a pure firecracker— Treated as if Eivass had infinitely fast hands, and the firecracker-type summon was canceled the moment it hit the ground. The only pity was that Little Amber couldn’t even exist for half a second. Otherwise, like the Little Crow, she could have forcibly transformed into her travel form and remained in the Material Realm.
It was only then that Eivass finally noticed the sole survivor. “It’s you…?” he exclaimed in surprise. It was Isma’i, who had initially cursed the most, who had survived until the end.
“Are you there, Inanna?” Eivass attempted to establish a connection with Little Amber in his mind. “What’s going on?” Logically, once he successfully summoned Amber, even if he recalled her afterward, he could maintain a connection with her until he summoned a new Beast of Sin.
“Because he had no hostility or killing intent, I judged him not to be an enemy,” a timid yet reassuring young voice echoed in Eivass’s mind after a long pause. “And… Master? Father? Mother? Teacher… what should I call you?”
“Call me Teacher,” Eivass’s voice in his mind was pure and gentle, perhaps even a little childlike. “When we signed the contract, our destinies became intertwined. You can see my heart, my memories… so you should also know that I am a serpent.” It was the tone one instinctively adopts when seeing a cute child or small animal.
At this moment, a panicked and dishevelled voice followed— “…Lord. Your Excellency… no, Your Majesty.” Isma’i became as humble as a dog, completely devoid of his previous arrogance as the Lord of Good. He even knelt and crawled forward— Since no one else was around to see, he pleaded, “Thank you for your mercy… thank you for the grace of life—”
“It’s alright, brave Isma’i. Your survival is something you earned yourself,” Eivass said calmly and harmoniously, recalling Amber’s words. “I didn’t intend to specifically spare anyone—rather, these people were my enemies. You had no hostility towards me, didn’t you?”
Hearing this, Isma’i froze for a moment. He realized something. In reality, Isma’i was far more intelligent than he let on. That reckless and proud demeanor was merely an persona he had cultivated for himself, perhaps only seventy percent genuine. The inheritance of the Lord of Good’s contract could only be obtained through the death of the previous Lord of Good, a secret known only to them, not to ordinary people.
However, Isma’i’s story explicitly mentioned “a fight and duel with Father.” Without such a narrative, his childhood tale of fighting a lion would have been too legendary to be believed. His “Father,” however, had defeated the lion and reconciled with him right before everyone’s eyes. If someone could defeat three lions in their old age, defeating one in their youth seemed no extraordinary feat. Coupled with an apology and a vow of reconciliation from the “former leader” himself, he naturally gained legitimacy and the identity of an innocent warrior, greatly diminishing the public’s dissatisfaction with his usurpation.
Therefore, that person could not have been Isma’i’s father—or at least, not a living one. It was a puppet he had resurrected using forbidden magic and his father’s corpse. Although his father was a Lord of Good, he was revered by the populace—not out of love, but respect and awe. He was exceptionally skilled in conquest and always victorious. He constantly waged endless wars against other city-states, absorbing their wealth and population entirely. This allowed his people to live relatively affluent lives and constantly have cheap slaves at their disposal.
Isma’i had succeeded his aging father. Isma’i greatly disliked his father’s rampant foreign wars— Unlike his warrior father and his own delinquent persona, as the Lord of Good of Ark City, he had studied since childhood. Ark City housed many libraries from thousands of years ago, and Isma’i was actually a highly learned individual. He deeply understood that if one walked in the desert, they would eventually step into quicksand. Although they always won, they would eventually lose. And as his father aged, their wars became increasingly difficult. Those who had never lost could not accept defeat.
Therefore, he needed to find an excuse for his father to prevent Ark City from disintegrating. Thus, he conceived of such a play— Through a filial piety drama, performed with his “Father” playing the role of his father, he would “personally” hand over power to himself. After he took over, Ark City would only plunder surrounding regions and cease large-scale city-state wars. The frequency of plunder gradually decreased; he began controlling trade routes for protection fees, acquiring funds through gentler means.
This gave people a respite from continuous warfare, but it also irked some of the elder powerhouses who had served his father—those older than Isma’i himself. Unlike the Lords of Good in smaller cities, Ark City was like a great nation with many powerful individuals, diluting the Lord of Good’s authority—they could defect at any time. It was like the Lord of Good of Holy Spring City, who had exiled himself to the Third Ring… If he had resided in the Third Ring, he would have clashed with the powerhouses there.
The ones he brought from Holy Spring City this time were the old guard who had served his father— Isma’i intended to use the Abyss Heavenly Envoy and other Lords of Good to bury them here. This was why he had adopted an arrogant and overbearing persona, deliberately provoking them to touch Eivass’s barrier, yet consistently refraining from actual attacks or destruction. Rationalizing his abnormal behavior, he then attempted to seek personal gain from it. This was the same logic Isma’i had employed when seizing power. The move doesn’t matter if it’s old, as long as it’s effective.
Because of this calculation, he had no hostility towards Eivass from the very beginning. Although he was deliberately provocative, Isma’i had actually been waiting for Eivass to make a move against him. If Eivass had followed the normal procedure, Isma’i would have readily handed over these individuals as slaves to Eivass.
…It was precisely this calculation that caused Isma’i to narrowly escape Little Amber’s petrification. Even Eivass had initially misjudged his personality—although Eivass had a vague sense of incongruity, he hadn’t thought in that direction, as it was reasonable for a Lord of Good to be arrogant and overbearing. He hadn’t expected that this was someone who was actually good at holding their liquor, feigning drunkenness and causing a ruckus. And his motive was to end wars and allow people to live safer, more comfortable lives. While in places other than Anxi, any reasonably decent person should have such thoughts, in the peculiar location of Anxi, especially originating from a Lord of Good, this level of morality was astonishing.
After hearing Isma’i’s story, Eivass was somewhat amazed. “You are the most normal Lord of Good I have ever met… Truly worthy of the name ‘Brave.'”
“I… I suppose it’s because I read more books than they did. Perhaps I was played and toyed with by my father inhumanely since I was very young, which ironically made me more level-headed. After all, I wasn’t my father’s most valued child, not educated as a Lord of Good… but existed as a ‘slave’ to protect my elder brother.” Isma’i let out a bitter smile, his face devoid of its former pride, resembling more of a philosopher. “However… I thought, I thought the prophecy in ‘Anxi’ was just a legend… or a deception. It turns out Saviors truly exist…”
When he had first heard that Lord Mahidifran suspected Eivass was that Savior, he had unequivocally denied it—this part was not acting or a persona. Isma’i had genuinely felt shaken, even experiencing anger and confusion, which led to his agitation. His early transcendence to the Sixth Tier indicated he was certainly not a traditionalist.
On one hand, Isma’i hoped Eivass could indeed change the status quo of Anxi. But on the other hand… Isma’i wished Eivass had never appeared. —If this world possessed a Savior who could redeem everything, then what were they, who had vaguely sensed destruction and devoted their efforts and lives to it? Were they a joke? Or a foil? But now, a miracle was before his eyes. He had no choice but to believe.
(End of Chapter)
