Chapter 309: Chapter 47: The Divine Ancestor’s Blood Is a Perfect Fit

The assault on the Spiral Tower proceeded without a hitch. A defensive line without even a Grand Knight to guard it, even one that put up a desperate resistance using the properties of the Celestial God’s Monument, could only delay the inevitable for a short while.

The Black Knight cut through them with ease. Ambushes, traps, and contraptions were all useless in the face of his overwhelming power.

However, he stopped before the highest floor. While Kramer’s insults had certainly infuriated Uther, it wasn’t enough to warrant him personally delivering the punishment.

He didn’t want anyone to call him petty or intolerant.

Thus, the battle for the final stronghold was left to the Knights under his command. They had no such reservations and simply swarmed forward, crushing the last vestiges of resistance.

Kramer was the first Knight Lord to be captured during the siege, and his post-battle torture was the most severe.

Rafati grabbed the ungrateful traitor’s head and slammed it against the ground again and again, each impact a mess of blood and gore.

"You bastard! You fucking bastard! Still so cocky? Huh? Now who’s the spineless dog?"

"Of course I’m talking about you lot! What, that mutt Uther doesn’t have the guts to face me?!"

Kramer spat out a mouthful of blood and laughed manically.

"Shut up! Killing a piece of trash like you isn’t worth dirtying Lord Uther’s hands!"

Rafati slapped him hard across the face. A crowd of men then descended with their blades, hacking Kramer to bits.

The Yonglan Knights usually seemed to get along, but once they became enemies, they wanted nothing more than to slaughter each other’s entire families... Oh, they actually *do* slaughter them. Never mind, then.

After all, no one is more ruthless to the Yonglan People than the Yonglan People themselves.

By the time Uther descended from the Spiral Tower, the pilgrimage army was already pouring over the defensive lines. Westheid sat astride a Griffin named Death’s Claw, his Armor brilliant and his cape heroic.

Just then, however, Westheid extended an arm. The Wolf-eared Maiden with purplish-black hair was biting into his forearm, her snow-white canines tearing through muscle.

Hot blood dripped onto the Griffin’s back, causing the intelligent beast to tremble uncontrollably, though it dared not move an inch.

’Is he... activating the Yonglan Blood?’

As a Grand Knight, Uther was well aware that a key trait of the Knight Path was growing stronger from setbacks; they were most powerful on the brink of death. Many Knights would even injure themselves before a fight.

At the Legendary Tier, however, this was rarely done. It made one seem to lack confidence, and the margin for error was razor-thin.

"Don’t mind me," Westheid said through gritted teeth while giving himself a buff, "I’m just getting into my fighting Status early. Think of it as a warm-up."

’Mivana’s bite was pretty intense. The pain of her tearing his flesh while sucking his blood was almost enough to awaken some... special tastes in the Duke Qinghui.’

’What kind of kinky play is this? So brazenly out in the open? Just as you’d expect from a debauched Imperial Citizen.’

Uther grumbled to himself. He expressionlessly used his Magic Power to vaporize the bloodstains on his black Armor, then stepped forward and said:

"I have fulfilled my duty."

Westheid did not answer, instead saying meaningfully:

"There’s one good thing about the Yonglan People: they don’t blindly trust the authority of a Legend. When it’s time to rebel, they really go for it."

Uther said in a low voice, "The victor is crowned king, the loser branded a villain... That is the way of Yonglan. The winner *is* justice."

"Then let’s just be the winners. What’s the problem with that?"

Westheid roared with laughter and tugged on the reins.

"Men! One last push! Take Gale Heart! We’ll end this battle before the Holy Advent Day and let the lads go home for the festival!"

The Holy Advent Day was a celebration commemorating the pact between the Pure Holy Spirit and mortals. In the Qinghui Territory, it was akin to the start of a new year. Westheid’s words were meant for his countrymen, the personal guards under his command.

"Victory!"

"For Your Majesty!"

"March! March!"

The Qinghui Guard immediately began striking the snow with their polearms, cheering and chanting hymns as they quickened their pace.

’These guys...’

Uther felt the fluctuations of power coming from the Qinghui Guard. It was similar to the Knight Path, yet not entirely the same. There were elements of the Knight, aspects of the Holy Spirit’s system, and their equipment was in the style of the Celestial Vault Kingdom. But their aura alone was enough to tell him they were terrifyingly strong.

’So this is the path Duke Qinghui created... It feels inferior... no, that’s not right. It doesn’t feel any weaker than the Yonglan Knights, just... a bit of a mishmash.’

Having broken through the first and second defensive lines, the third and fourth were also quickly pierced by the pilgrimage army’s overwhelming momentum.

This wasn’t difficult; no one had ever expected these defenses to stop the pilgrimage. Seeing their inability to halt the army’s advance, the dissenters stationed at the lines grew desperate. Some fell back to trail the main force, waiting for a chance to ambush them. Others simply abandoned their positions to make an all-or-nothing charge.

The pilgrimage army fought through countless skirmishes with every step they took.

The open snowfields and rugged mountains before the Yonglan Capital had turned into a sprawling battlefield. Knights for and against the pilgrimage were locked in a meat grinder, tearing into each other like wild animals.

Westheid paid no mind to these trivial conflicts. From the very beginning, his eyes were fixed on the ever-clearer sight of the Gale Heart.

When Westheid finally took in the full view of the Celestial God’s Monument, he couldn’t help but exclaim in amazement:

"Truly magnificent. So this is the kind of marvel a Celestial God can build..."

"I can’t wait to become its master... It seems, however, that the locals aren’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat for me."

Duke Qinghui’s gaze swept to the far distance. Before the outer walls of the Gale Heart, masses of Yonglan Knights had formed neat phalanxes. At the very forefront of their formation stood a lone Knight in Light Armor and simple clothes, leaning on his sword with his eyes closed, facing the pilgrimage’s mighty army all by himself.