Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 844 - 456: The Rapid Collapse of the Holy Eastern Empire (4)

”Ahhhhh!”

The fierce burning sensation swept through his entire body.

Through the distorted flames, he saw the cold silhouette of Solomon atop the bell tower, and also the grotesque smiles of the nobility below who once toasted to him.

The screams continued for ten minutes.

In the end, only a charred, curled-up corpse remained.

......

The night had completely enveloped St. Peter’s Cathedral.

At the very top of the bell tower, there was no wind, only a suffocating stillness.

Solomon stood alone on the edge of the terrace, without any railing beneath his feet.

The entire Southeast capital stretched out beneath him like a painting recolored by flames.

Neighborhoods lit up one by one with orange-red light, the flames of the stakes flickering, and the screams were diluted by the height, leaving only a vague vibration, as if the earth were softly groaning.

Solomon did not feel cruelty, nor pleasure.

He knew someone was scheming behind the scenes, but he didn’t care. In fact, he thought it might be good for this land.

”Too many weeds.” His thoughts were calm and coherent, like reviewing a gardening task.

”The dragon’s leftover bloodline, the old nobility’s rotten honor, and mortals’ obsession with self and desire... they entangle this land like thorns, vying for the nutrients that should belong to the Lord.”

”This is the root of suffering. Because there is self, there are differences, and because there are differences, there is inequality.”

He slowly raised his right hand.

In his palm lay a dragon scale amulet taken from the old nobility’s secret chamber.

The amulet had been polished smooth by time, the edges of the scales glowing with a dark red sheen, carrying the residual warmth of a thousand years old Dragon Ancestor Faith.

It once symbolized lineage, power, and the chosen qualification.

Solomon looked down at it without hatred, only a cold indifference assessing a flawed item.

”The Dragon Ancestor... was arrogant. It allowed some people to be born with Fighting Energy, others with surnames and territories. It divided the world into strong and weak, noble and base.

This disparity is inherently unclean, and when everyone’s foreheads are pressed to the earth, no one is nobler than another.

To achieve true equality, everyone must first be made to obey, without need for thought or judgment, only to listen to the voice of the Lord.

When the masses operate around the queen bee, there will be no more disputes in this world.”

”Crack.” His fingers suddenly tightened.

The dragon scale amulet, once regarded as a sacred relic, was crushed into fine golden powder.

The dust slipped through his fingers, carried away by the night wind, scattering over the burning city.

”Under the shade of the Golden Feather Flower, no bloodline is needed. As long as they drink the golden liquid, beggars can ascend, and nobles will go mad. In the upcoming Divine Country, all things will be equal.”

Solomon lowered his head, looking toward the square in front of the distant cathedral.

The hungry crowd knelt on the stone steps, faces upturned, cracked mouths open, waiting for the next pot of golden soup.

Then Solomon turned around and walked back to the depths of the bell tower’s secret chamber.

The stone door closed silently, sealing off the flames and clamor outside.

In the center of the secret chamber, a Golden Feather Flower seedling grew in dark red soil.

The seedling’s leaves were semi-transparent, with veins flowing thin golden light. Each pulsation was accompanied by a faint yet steady pulse.

Solomon knelt before the seedling, his forehead touching the ground in a gesture of reverence.

”The old roots have rotted, the new soil is prepared, great Lord... descend upon us...”

After the prayer, he slowly stood up.

As he straightened his body, the skin on his neck wriggled slightly, as if something small was crawling beneath.

His gaze briefly lost focus, a moment of blankness, as if the signal was interrupted for a second.

In the next moment, the blankness vanished, replaced by familiar wise coldness.

Solomon adjusted the sleeves of the cardinal’s robe and turned to leave the secret chamber.

Outside the bell tower, the flames continued to burn.