Adra softly spoke another sentence, once again in a tone that only Lancelote could hear. The look of astonishment on Lancelote's face gradually faded, replaced by a calm composure. The killing intent in his eyes completely disappeared. He nodded at Adra and slowly replied, "I understand... If this is His Holiness' will, then I will certainly assist you..."
"Good." Adra smiled and nodded. His smile remained as delicate and beautiful as ever, almost feminine in appearance, yet now it carried an inexplicable weight and authority. "His Holiness was right about you. Sir Lancelote, you are indeed trustworthy."
"This is good, this is good." The bishops and several high-ranking priests, though still unclear on what had just transpired, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
In stark contrast to everyone else, Bishop Inham's radiant smile had completely vanished. The sharp glimmer that had once been in Lancelote's eyes now shone in his own. Now, it was his turn to fix his gaze on Adra, as if trying to pierce through that gentle smile with his eyes, to see what truly lay beneath.
"Talice, show Archbishop Inham's so-called possession to Archbishop Adra."
"But, Master..." Talice hesitated. She knew the significance of this acting Pope's status.
Lancelote, however, remained indifferent and said calmly, "Archbishop Adra is now the acting Pope. He is His Holiness. You need not worry."
"Understood." Talice nodded. She reached into her robes and took out a vibrant green leaf. The glow emanating from it immediately cast a green hue over the faces of those nearby. "This is it..."
"Oh?" Lancelote and Adra both let out low exclamations at the same time. Not only their faces but even their eyes seemed to glow under the leaf's light.
"Your Holiness, I do not believe this belongs to Archbishop Inham." The astonishment on Lancelote's face flickered only briefly before he let out a cold chuckle. Taking the World Tree Leaf from Talice' hands, he turned his gaze toward Inham. Whether it was a slip of the tongue due to distraction or a sign that he had fully acknowledged Adra's status, even his form of address had changed.
Inham's eyes suddenly lit up for a moment before dimming again. He let out a cold laugh, though more than half of it carried a trace of bitterness. His face had turned slightly pale.
"It really doesn't seem to belong to him. It appears Archbishop Inham made a mistake," Adra glanced at Inham before nodding. "Did this little girl bring it? We should ask her about it later..."
"My apologies, Lord Adra, Lord Lancelote. I did indeed make a mistake. That does not belong to me," Inham suddenly sighed and bowed slightly to the two of them. "It was merely a moment of excitement on my part—I misidentified it. The dispute with Knight Talice was nothing more than a misunderstanding..."
"Oh, I see." Adra and Lancelote exchanged a glance.
Inham backed away while quickly saying, "I suddenly remembered some urgent matters. The friend who was helping the young one might have finished the treatment, and now there are orcs everywhere. I must go check on it."
As Inham began to retreat, Lancelote immediately stepped forward, but Adra raised his hand to stop him. "Yes, Archbishop Inham, you go ahead. I too hope that Mr. Stephen has truly managed to heal Bishop Jarvis..."
Watching Inham's figure quickly disappear, Lancelote quietly said, "It seems he knows... Isn't this letting the tiger return to the mountain?"
Adra slightly shook his head and, using a voice only Lancelote could hear, replied, "It's unavoidable. The current environment and situation just don't allow for it... Besides, he might not dare to do anything. From how desperately he wanted the World Tree Leaf, it seems that Stephen might not have the ability to fully heal his son. He might come back to ask for our help..."
Standing aside, Talice, the bishops, and the high-ranking priests all wore expressions of extreme confusion. They couldn't make sense of the words and actions of these three; they had no idea what was really going on.
Adra's appearance still held its usual gentle and beautiful demeanor, but his tone and expression were completely different from his usual carefree and changeable self. He glanced at the orc group gathered in the square and said calmly, "This is the most important thing now. Once we handle this, everything else will be much easier. I'm honestly quite puzzled... How could Theodorus use such a risky method, betting everything on it? And also, where is Grutt? Why is only he here? Could there be something more to this...?"
"Whatever it is, once we eliminate these orcs, we win. Orford is already defeated because he's dead," Lancelote said indifferently. However, there was no joy of victory on his face.
"Although there have been so many twists and unexpected dangers, in the end, we still won. Everything is still within our control," Adra said as he took the World Tree Leaf from Lancelote's hand, clutching it tightly. In his hand, the white Ring of Kings and the green World Tree Leaf shone together. He touched his face, even pinched it, as if deliberately feeling the elasticity and sensation of his skin, then sighed. "To think that such a desperate gamble actually succeeded. Was it luck? I almost want to believe it's the blessing of the Lord..."
"Report..." A blood-soaked swordsman shouted as he staggered toward them, his steps unsteady and erratic. It was clear he had sustained serious injuries. He was heading straight for the Glory Hall. "I must see the emperor! I have urgent military news to report..."
"What news? Speak quickly!" Lancelote frowned and barked.
"Where is the emperor? Where is he?" The swordsman swayed, unable to stand, and seemed to be somewhat delirious. His body was covered in several serious wounds. Two high-ranking priests hurried forward to support him, using healing magic.
"I saw... I saw him, he seemed to be coming out of the orc's territory..." Talice, who was still holding onto Aimee, said.
"I am Sosa, a palace swordsman under General Alrasia Oren's command. I have urgent military news for the emperor..." The swordsman bent over, coughing, and a large amount of blood was expelled from his mouth. To have survived breaking through the large group of orcs surrounding the teleportation magic circle, this swordsman's strength was impressive. But no one cared about that now. The words he spoke while coughing up blood shocked everyone into stunned silence. "A dragon... A dragon has arrived..."
"A massive black dragon has destroyed the Alrasia palace and is now flying toward Celeste..."
On the other side, Inham had returned to the underground chamber.
Unlike his usual habit of acting discreetly, he almost blasted and killed his way back there. Whether they were swordsmen, priests, or orcs and minotaurs, every living thing in his path was blasted into pieces, burned to charcoal, or corroded into zombie-like corpses. He even resorted to using necromantic magic without any hesitation.
His mood had never been this terrible, almost on the verge of losing control in a furious rage. He had already figured out what was going on.
He knew very well that slip-ups didn't just happen; the words spoken unintentionally were the truest reflections of a person's thoughts. From Lancelote's single utterance of "His Majesty," Inham understood—Adra was no longer Adra, not the archbishop temporarily holding the pope's position, but rather, Gawin Magnus, the true pope.
The appearance, posture, voice, even the scent, all remained unchanged, yet it was undeniably the true Pope Magnus. Or perhaps it was Adra's body, but Magnus's mind. Only this could explain the strange reactions of Lancelote and Adra.
Reincarnation, the highest-level spell of soul magic. Soul magic, which had been considered heretical by the church for centuries and nearly eradicated, was even more difficult to master than mental magic, and fewer people bothered to study it. But Magnus had somehow managed to use this magic through the ring, and astonishingly, he had succeeded.
Could it be that Adra, that fool, thought he had killed Magnus and hastily put on the ring? Perhaps, all along, Magnus had been cultivating him as a replacement body. Even so, the magic only had a one in ten chance of success…
Was it luck? This was something even the most calculating minds couldn't predict—elusive and unstable, yet it could change everything. Now, could it be that all the plans, all the efforts, would be rendered meaningless just because of a stroke of luck?
But since it had happened, whether or not he liked it, there was nothing to do but face it. Inham took a deep breath, steadied his mind, and walked into the underground chamber.
"Oh, you're back. How did it go?" Stephen was already sitting on a wooden chair, asking.
The soft bed was stained with blood, and Jarvis lay quietly in the middle of the blood pool. His exposed body was covered in wounds, but it was clear that he was much stronger than his previous form. In the corner of the underground room, there was a pile of discarded items—those were supposed to be the bodies of two death knights.
"Nothing much," Inham's expression had returned to normal, and he simply shook his head lightly. "How about you, Master Stephen?"
"I have some good news to tell you," Stephen said with a pleased smile on his face.
"Good news?" Inham paused. Hearing those words in this situation felt a little out of place. He couldn't imagine there being anything good at this moment.