My Celestial Ascension-Chapter 729: I Mean Peace

"Y-You killed the Holy Son Arthur…" Ayumi looked at Yuan in disbelief, her eyes widened in horror as she witnessed the bloody scene before her. Despair was palpable on her beautiful face.

"He was an aching splinter, and I removed him. You can curse me if it helps your heart, but he doesn't deserve your sympathy at all," Yuan said with a calm, expressionless look, his eyes cold and murderous—devoid of any emotion.

"You haven't yet seen his true face—the one he wore in front of you. 'Hero' is just a facade, a mask hiding his real nature. Be careful whom you choose to trust. And never believe anyone from the Holy Church." Yuan warned her, then turned and walked out of the Throne Hall, not sparing even a single glance at anyone before leaving.

His work here was done. There was no reason for him to remain any longer. Besides, he had to gather supplies for the upcoming trip to the Blank Clan, the birthplace of his beloved mother.

They had already left Valeria's mansion quite a while ago. Miss Zara and Little Zoe were cultivating in their bedroom, and Princess Livia, who was also staying at the mansion, had no idea about the deaths of Arthur and Archbishop Gregor.

As soon as Yuan stepped out of the Throne Hall, the suffocating aura lingering inside vanished, and everyone could finally breathe again.

"T-Thankfully, he left the Hall… I can finally relax and feel at ease," someone muttered with a heavy sigh, visibly more comfortable. The others nodded in agreement, sharing the same relief now that Yuan had gone.

Meanwhile, the Heroes also breathed easier, relieved that Yuan hadn't targeted them. He had only focused on Holy Son Arthur and Zane, who had acted recklessly with his self-righteous behavior.

"Quickly, take out the healing potion and feed it to Zane! He has a serious head injury!" Ayumi shouted at her friends in a panic, concern evident on her face as she knelt beside Zane's unconscious body.

"I'm on it." One of the Heroes nodded and quickly retrieved a powerful healing potion from his Magic Pouch, immediately administering it to Zane.

Zane's body began to heal the moment the potion entered his system. His wounds closed rapidly, and there were no visible injuries left. Though completely healed, he remained unconscious.

Kael was also unconscious. Though his injuries had been treated with healing potions, his condition had been more severe than Zane's. As a result, he required more than one potion to recover.

"Let's take them both out of here—to a nearby inn. We need to book a few rooms for us. We can't leave them behind; we have to make sure they recover as quickly as possible," Ayumi told her friends with a serious look on her face. Her friends immediately nodded in agreement.

They didn't want anything unexpected to happen to Zane or Kael. Their best option was to find an inn, rest for the night, and leave the Lionheart Empire as soon as both regained consciousness.

Before long, they carried Kael and Zane out of the Imperial Palace—humiliated. Gone were the confident expressions they wore when they first arrived alongside Archbishop Gregor.

They no longer cared about Archbishop Gregor or Holy Son Arthur. All that mattered now was leaving the empire and returning to the Holy Light Empire to resume their training.

After experiencing such overwhelming powerlessness today, they finally understood how weak and pathetic they truly were. They needed to grow stronger—fast—if they wanted to survive in this cruel and brutal world.

This world was not kind. In fact, it was the polar opposite of the one they had known. If they wanted to stay alive, they would have to adapt—and become far more powerful.

Soon, they booked a couple of rooms at a nearby luxurious inn, one favored by nobles and aristocrats. The massive building offered many interesting amenities and stood as a symbol of refined elegance.

The nobles and aristocrats inside were stunned to see the Heroes arrive. The inn's grand lobby buzzed with whispers as the news of their presence spread.

—

High above the ground, a massive bird-like creature flew at terrifying speed toward the Imperial City of the Lionheart Empire. Its enormous shadow swept across the jungle below, frightening countless magical beasts into fleeing.

It was a Red Flame Wyvern. Its bat-like wings, covered in thick scales, beat against the air with powerful force, creating shockwaves as it sliced through the sky.

Riding on its back was a figure clad in heavy metal armor—armed for war. A massive sword was strapped to his back. Through the slits in his helmet, his piercing blue eyes glowed with intensity.

"The Imperial City of the Lionheart Empire isn't far now. I'll be there in just a few more minutes," the armored figure muttered coldly.

The Wyvern let out a deafening roar, opening its colossal jaws and revealing razor-sharp, claw-like fangs—more than capable of grinding bones into a fine powder.

ROARR! The sound was so loud and terrifying that it sent all nearby magical beasts fleeing in fear. They scattered in every direction—some even bolting toward human settlements.

A couple of minutes later, the Imperial City came into view from the sky. Its radiant beauty immediately caught the attention of the figure riding the Wyvern.

"Although I shouldn't say it—shouldn't even think it—Emperor Philip really put effort into this city. It's far more beautiful than the Imperial City of our own empire," the rider muttered, quietly admiring the shimmering skyline below.

"It looks beautiful from up here… but it's a shame this city will soon be reduced to rubble—by us, the Holy Church. For Archbishop Gregor's honor, we shall turn this city upside down."

ROOOAAAAARRRRRR!! The Wyvern released a deafening roar that shook the sky. Even from within the Imperial City, people heard it—and panic instantly spread.

"W-What was that noise?! Are we being attacked by a dragon?!"

"That's impossible! Dragons should only exist on the Beast Continent!"

Terror swept through the streets. Vendors and merchants slammed shut their stalls, scrambling for shelter. Citizens screamed and ran in all directions.

The city guard quickly sounded the alarm. Soldiers began pouring into the streets like ants from a nest, taking up defensive positions and awaiting the creature's appearance.

Cannons were loaded and aimed skyward, ready to fire. Archers took formation, their magically-enhanced arrows glowing. The elite Magic Knights unsheathed their weapons, prepared to strike the beast with overwhelming force.

"Sir, there's no sign of the dragon. Could it have already left?" one soldier asked nervously, his face pale. The roar still echoed in his mind.

"Don't be a fool, idiot!" the commander snapped. "Can't you feel it? That overwhelming presence is drawing closer every second!" His expression was grim as he stared toward the distant horizon.

A moment later, his lips curled into a dark grin.

"There it is… finally showing itself."

From the sky above, the dragon descended—rushing toward the city with terrifying speed.

As the dragon approached, everyone realized it wasn't a true dragon. It was a half-dragon—a Wyvern. However, if it grew stronger, it could eventually evolve into a full-fledged dragon.

"Commander, look! There's someone riding the Wyvern!" one of the guards shouted, pointing at the massive creature casting a huge shadow on the ground.

"What?! A person?" The commander squinted at the sky. Sure enough, seated on the Wyvern's back was a figure clad in heavy armor. As he looked more closely, recognition hit him like a thunderbolt.

"Holy Dragon Knight, Conrad…? What the hell is he doing here? Is he here to fight?" he muttered under his breath, a visible tension settling on his face.

Moments later, the Wyvern descended, its massive wings beating a gust over the courtyard. Conrad dismounted with calm, purposeful steps and approached the commander, his eyes sharp and unyielding.

"I've come on the order of His Eminence—the Pope. I'm here to collect the remains of our Archbishop, Gregor. I mean peace. I'm not here for war."

Though his words were steady, his voice carried a deadly undertone. A chilling aura of murderous intent swept across the crowd, causing soldiers to tremble, their faces drenched in sweat.

"But…" Conrad paused, eyes scanning the tense soldiers, "if you fools are so desperate for a fight, I can oblige."

A wave of fear rippled through the ranks. Despite having numbers, cannons, and powerful mages, no one had the confidence to face this man—not even with the entire army at their backs.

"Now, let me pass before I change my mind and reduce this city to ash. One breath from my Wyvern would be enough," Conrad warned, his tone like steel.

The commander clenched his fists, weighing the risks, then slowly nodded. He had no choice but to grant entry, though he couldn't allow the beast inside the city walls.

"We'll let you in, but the Wyvern must remain outside—for the safety of the people. If you agree to that, I'll lead you to the Imperial Palace." His voice was steady, but fear coiled deep inside him.

This wasn't just any man—this was the First Commander of the Holy Knights, a living legend said to be over three hundred years old. And rather than weakening with time, he only grew stronger.

They stood no chance.

Conrad stared at the commander silently, his icy eyes piercing through him.

"I agree. Lead the way."