Chapter 115
"Walking along a path strewn with thorns, my blood stains every barb. I pluck the bloodied thorns and weave them into a crown. May this crown grant me the spirit and resolve to endure as I walk this thorn-laden road."
I hope you'll remember the oath of the Thorned Crown. Take care, and act with wisdom.
Leon shook his head, saying nothing more to Maxwell. Saving these people was already an act of mercy; as for subduing them, Leon truly had no interest at all.
These people have had a notorious reputation in Northend for ages, and have been discriminated against by regular mages for just as long.
The conflict and hatred between the Caucasus Battlemages and the mages of Andalusia Kingdom fundamentally stem from their different magical paths and philosophies. And that's just a difference in philosophy—over this alone, they've fought and killed each other for countless years.
Even now, among the mage factions of the Andalusia Kingdom, many still harbor deep-seated grudges against the Caucasus Battlemages. There just haven't been any major conflicts in recent years.
As for the Thorned Crown, these people aren't even strictly considered human mages anymore. Their conflict with regular mages runs even deeper. In recent years, they've barely shown themselves, expanding only in secret. They don't dare act openly, lest other factions wipe them out.
This conflict in magical paths and philosophies is far greater than that with the Caucasus Battlemages. And those mages who have transplanted foreign bloodlines are prone to personality issues—just like Sheldon and Sunny, for example. This makes orthodox mages view the Thorned Crown with even more disdain.
Trying to subdue the Thorned Crown is asking for trouble—never mind that the organization itself is still in a state of chaos...
Leon ignored Maisto and his group, but in Maisto’s crystalline eyes, a glimmer of hope flashed. Though pain still lingered, it was steadily fading. Staring at Leon’s retreating figure, and at the dense army of alchemical constructs on the ground, Maisto couldn’t help but let a feverish expression slip onto his face.
Leading the Thorned Crown’s survivors beneath the shade of the Melin Pavilion, Maisto felt no regret. The Thorned Crown was already in chaos, and purging it was long overdue. Those madmen would surely bring disaster to the organization; this incident happened because Sunny, that lunatic, had completely lost her mind.
With the internal purge, the Thorned Crown was bound to suffer losses. Their research had already stagnated for years and desperately needed a leader—someone who could command respect, loyalty, and even reverence.
Mafamelin’s strength far surpassed mine, and his innate gifts are terrifying. He certainly hasn’t transplanted any foreign bloodlines, and in time, he’ll only grow stronger. Even I can’t estimate the depth of his knowledge in bloodline transplantation research. With his guidance, all of us in the Thorned Crown may finally advance again.
And his subordinates seem just as formidable—perhaps even more so. No one ever realized he commanded such a vast, steel army: ten thousand alchemical constructs, all at least Level Thirty. A terrifying force. Within the Odin Kingdom, aside from the very top-tier powers, almost no one could stand against him...
To submit to such a powerhouse, to follow a researcher even stronger than ourselves, would be our best path forward. But it seems he has no intention of accepting us, and that is a major problem...
Behind Maisto, several Thorned Crown members had already accepted his earlier suggestion and were about to speak, but Maisto waved them off, keeping them from approaching Leon. Instead, he led them in a soul and magic oath—an oath with many conditions.
The oath restricted them from spreading any information about this encounter, by any means. Everything they saw about Leon, or even his subordinates, must remain secret.
The price for breaking this oath was simple: even a single word leaked would trigger a backlash—shattering their souls and dispersing their magic.
Even under coercion, no one could force a Sky Rank powerhouse to reveal these secrets. At most, a single sentence, and the backlash would strike.