Your Lord Has A Screw Loose?-Chapter 427 - 429 Illusion of White Frost

Chapter 427: Chapter 429: Illusion of White Frost

Chapter 427: Chapter 429: Illusion of White Frost

“Duke, your complexion seems a bit off these days,” a mage under the Magic God inquired with concern.

After all, though the Duke of White Frost was not the head of the Magic Church, he was the protector of all faithful of the Magic God, and naturally, they cared a great deal.

Their Magic Church was but a third-rate small institution, only able to huddle within the capital of the White Frost Duchy, and beyond that, they virtually had no influence.

Despite the Duke’s faith in the Magic God, the White Frost Duchy was actually still dominated by the likes of the Holy Light, Fertility, and many other Divine beings; it wasn’t something they could decide. After all, those were the bigger powers, and besides, the Duke couldn’t stop it, because if he wanted to govern such a large Duchy, he couldn’t do without the help of these churches.

“I’m alright, just a bit tired lately,” he replied with bloodshot eyes. As the ruler of a Duchy, he was, of course, aware of the recent large-scale Divine Descents.

Holy Light, Fertility, Power, and so on—even the Magic God had bestowed several Divine Servants down, so the whole region was in disarray, and many of the nobles under him were panicking, for it was the first time the gods had acted on such a grand scale.

Even his own authority had seen significant voids in this chaos, mainly because there was an issue with this instance of Divine Descent.

In everyone’s mind, Divine Descent should choose devout Priests or noble Nobles as vessels, but this time was different, most of the chosen were the lowly poor and serfs, which greatly shocked the Transcendents and nobility.

And the Duke of White Frost naturally knew the reason why. Divine Descent required faith, and how many of those Nobles or Priests were true Fanatics?

So they were simply not qualified, and he feared this would lead to serious consequences.

Firstly, there were those poor and serfs who had experienced Divine Descent. When those Divine Servants and Divine Guards returned, the powers granted to them would not be taken back, which was equivalent to someone having cultivated for them for a period.

Consequently, the number of Transcendents would skyrocket, which would have been ecstatic news if it had happened to nobles or priests.

However, they were not the ones chosen, and this was a serious problem. When the Divine Servants and Divine Guards leave, they would have to face a bunch of ignorant Transcendents.

Besides, there was the conflict of identity; the Divine Servants and Divine Envoy who experienced Divine Descent among ordinary people were bound to clash with local priests since a serf who suddenly claims to be an envoy dispatched by their lord is not something priests can easily accept.

To be led by a poor person or serf is a disgrace, and certainly, some priests absolutely might not acknowledge this and might declare them imposters of the divine and execute them, exacerbating the conflict. After all, those who experienced Divine Descent are not Transcendents, so the newly descended Divine Envoys are not too strong and need time to grow and regain their strength.

After all, it involved breaching the barrier of the Main Material Plane, and since it was not their true forms but a Divine Descent, the normal process should be to choose devout priests so that both parties could mutually benefit.

The envoys of the gods would use the bodies of priests to walk the Mortal World, eliminating heretics on behalf of the Divine, and when they returned, they’d leave behind the power bestowed as a reward. There might even arise many new Legendary Level beings. Unfortunately, as ideal as that sounds, reality is harsher. There are plenty of priests and Transcendents, but what’s lacking is true devotion.

Following this, the upper and middle echelons would face a crisis of insufficient devotion. If any priest who had experienced Divine Descent were to act upon this, and if they united with those ordinary people who had also been chosen, they might very well seize a great deal of power.

Indeed, although it was mainly the poor and serfs who were subjected to Divine Descent, there were also many priests and nobles who had been chosen; these individuals became coveted and were just waiting for the Divine Descent to end to ascend to greater heights.

More importantly, this instance of Divine Descent increased everyone’s awe of the Divine, making many more devout, especially within the upper and middle hierarchy of the Divine Church. The lower-tier priests might not be very knowledgeable, but those who had attained a certain position surely wouldn’t be too foolish.

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The Divine brought down Miracles, not for them to continue in their greed but to know to revere.

Many such events had happened under the Duke of White Frost’s rule, making it difficult for him to handle.

If it really came down to it, whom should he support?

On one side were the envoys of the gods, and on the other, the gods’ priests. He could not afford to offend the Divine.

So he simply pretended to be unaware. After all, given his current situation, even the Divine Punishment of the Magic God might not work on him.

“My lord’s spell might be able to relieve your fatigue, Duke White Frost. Would you require my service?” The mage hurried to offer his solicitous help.

With some difficulty, Duke White Frost replied, “Then I’ll trouble you, Master Moria.”

He couldn’t really refuse, especially since the other person was a highly esteemed priest in the Magic Church, and they had good personal rapport in the past. After all, he came to discuss magic with him today.

But after seeing the contents of the Book of the Sage, he found these mages to be too foolish, even the ones he used to think of as having exceptional wisdom. Now, he simply couldn’t bring himself to discuss what seemed like child’s play, the so-called magic, with them.

Master Moria rose to his feet, beginning a chant that was like a poem, naturally praising and pleading with the Magic God to open the channel of magic, so he could use it.

This one spell, or to put it bluntly divine art, required chanting for three to five minutes and even necessitated the use of hands and feet, much like a theatrical performance.

All priestly spellcasting was like this, especially now during the noble wars, where everything had to be elegant. Much like the combat of the knights, their spellcasting needed to have an epic feel, like acting out a drama, and at least it could not be done instantaneously.

Furthermore, the more powerful and effective the divine arts, the longer the casting time tended to be. It was said that the strongest miracle divine art, Holy Light Judgment, required chanting for three days before it could be released. Over the years, only the Pope of the Holy Light Church had mastered this art as their trump card.

Listening to the chant that resembled poetry, Duke White Frost used to find it pleasing, but now he only felt annoyed. Although his madness was suppressed, the tumultuous distortion and madness within his bloodline seemed to faintly resurge with the priest’s chanting.

It was as if a weak patient was being irritated by a loud and piercing noise.

Yet reason managed to suppress all these feelings, fortunately. Thankfully, the other party’s chanting was quite skilled, and it was over in three minutes.

A refreshing divine art entered his body. Far from bringing relief, it almost made him collapse, as numerous illusions flooded his mind, and a pain pierced his brow as though something was trying to burst forth.

“Master Moria, your magic effect is very useful, but I am swamped with matters today and can’t discuss the mysteries of magic with you. I hope you’ll forgive me,” Duke White Frost’s voice was very hoarse, which puzzled Master Moria. What was happening?

Nevertheless, he didn’t dwell too much on it and respectfully said, “Then I shall not disturb you further, my lord.”

Although unsure why, he understood that he was being dismissed and that staying would bring no good.

So he had to leave as soon as possible.

After the man had left, Duke White Frost finally calmed down. He had almost lost his composure just now and might have torn Moria to pieces.

“Survival and reproduction?” Duke White Frost murmured to himself. Just now, he seemed to have been caught in some kind of ancient illusion and then he touched his forehead, “Indeed, it’s an illusion. I actually thought I had grown an eye on my forehead just now.”

“Absurd, it made me think of the story of the three-eyed people my grandfather used to tell me when I was a child.”

He didn’t know why such a strange illusion had appeared.

“Perhaps it’s the mad knowledge of magic that has led me into this bizarre illusion,” he thought.

Duke White Frost knew he had an issue, but there was no solution in sight; neither priests nor doctors could help. They all claimed he was very healthy, even stronger than some senior warriors.

As for mental health issues, they simply said one needs to believe in the Divine, and there was no need for further solutions.

But he… had already lost connection with the Magic God, and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t dare practice prayer and faith anymore. After all, he had pilfered from the berths of the Magic God, and if he dared to pray, Divine Punishment would indeed come.

“Perhaps? I can look for the story of the three-eyed people that grandfather mentioned. I seem to have placed it in the study?” Duke White Frost muttered to himself. He didn’t know why he wanted to do this, but something inside him guided him to seek out the things from his illusions.