Chapter 93: The Divine Court of Northern Desolation (Part 2)

City of the Gods, outside the South Glory Gate.

The God of Poetry held an invitation as crimson as blood, his expression suddenly transformed. He looked with astonishment at the Celestial Roc Lord before him and spoke calmly, “You are not the Lord of Cold Mystery. May I ask your divine title? And whence did you acquire this invitation?”

All the gods of the Northern Wilderness present were sharp-eyed, their attention already drawn to the blood-red invitation in the Poet God's hand, though none had spoken. Now, with the Poet God exposing that the invitation did not belong to this black-feathered Lord, the assembly was struck with shock.

The Lord of Cold Mystery's invitation had inexplicably appeared in the hands of this unknown deity, and that invitation was as crimson as blood. The gods could not help but think of something dreadful.

The Celestial Roc Lord gazed at the Poet God serenely, showing no surprise at his identity being revealed, and allowed a proud, cold smile to curl his lips. “I am the Celestial Roc.”

“This invitation indeed belonged to the Lord of Cold Mystery. However, when the Divine Clan distributed the golden invitations, I had not yet ascended and was not eligible to receive the Divine Clan's honor. I deeply regret this,” said the Celestial Roc Lord, his face suffused with regret.

Only those of Lord status received the Divine Clan's golden invitation. Since the Celestial Roc Lord had not yet broken through, it was natural that he received nothing. More crucially, the golden invitations were sent only once; the Divine Clan had not anticipated that a divine king would ascend to Lord status within three short days.

Truly, the Celestial Roc Lord was an anomaly—a powerful one at that.

Yet the Poet God remained impassive, his dark eyes fixed upon the Celestial Roc Lord, waiting for his next words.

The surrounding Lords listened in silence, their expressions calm, ready to hear the main event from the Celestial Roc Lord.

“It so happened that the Lord of Cold Mystery disgraced the Divine Clan. For the sake of the Divine Clan's honor, I fought him as a newly ascended Lord and ultimately slew him, thus preserving the clan's dignity.”

Seeing the Poet God unmoved, the Celestial Roc Lord's black eyes grew deeper, and he suddenly shouted, righteous and indignant, with all the fervor of a loyal devotee of the Divine Clan.

Upon hearing news of the Lord of Cold Mystery's death, the assembled Lords sighed inwardly, “So it is. Crimson like blood means death.”

“The Lord of Cold Mystery, shallow in fortune, unworthy of divine grace, was a rebel against the gods,” the Celestial Roc Lord continued, disparaging the Lord of Cold Mystery without ceasing.

“After slaying him, I inadvertently came into possession of his golden invitation. I have always admired the awe-inspiring power of the Divine Clan, so I brought his invitation to attend the Peach Banquet and pay homage to the clan's might,” he declared with utmost reverence, recounting the supposed sequence of events.

Yet how much truth his tale contained was known only to himself. In any case, neither the Poet God nor the other Lords present believed a word of it.

The Divine Clan’s authority had, since their arrival in the Northern Wilderness, become deeply ingrained in the hearts of all beings. Which of the myriad gods here did not know the Divine Clan would soon rule the land? Who dared speak ill of them now?

Moreover, every Lord possessed great wisdom; none would ever act to disgrace the Divine Clan.

Thus, the Celestial Roc Lord’s accusation against the Lord of Cold Mystery was surely false.

All that the Celestial Roc Lord said served only as a pretext for killing the Lord of Cold Mystery and seizing the golden invitation.

Yet the excuse he offered was flawless.

Claiming to have slain the Lord of Cold Mystery in defense of the Divine Clan’s honor, even if the Poet God knew it was all lies, what could he do? Could he, for the sake of the dead Lord, punish the Celestial Roc Lord who upheld the clan’s dignity?

The answer was no.

By seizing upon the supreme moral ground of defending the Divine Clan, the Celestial Roc Lord ensured the clan would ignore his crime.

In the end, strength is what matters in the primordial world.

The Lord of Cold Mystery, cultivated for tens of thousands of years, had been slain by a newly ascended Lord—Celestial Roc. It was unthinkable.

Such a weak Lord died in vain; the Divine Clan would not pity the weak, nor would the world.

Even so, the Celestial Roc Lord’s machinations were not done. Bowing respectfully, he said, “Though I admire the Divine Clan’s majesty and slew the Lord of Cold Mystery in anger, my actions may have been improper. I am willing to accept the clan’s punishment.”

With this, he thoroughly blocked any recourse for the Divine Clan. To punish him would be to disgrace themselves; how could they do so?

The Poet God stared into the surface reverence and inner arrogance of the Celestial Roc Lord, silently praising him, “How eloquent he is.”

Yet such a grave matter, even though the Poet God privately acknowledged the Celestial Roc Lord’s innocence, he still consulted with the Guardian of the South Glory Gate before reaching a decision.

Truth be told, the Guardian did not wish to involve himself. If the Lord of Cold Mystery had relatives or someday his name was cleared, this would become a stain upon the Guardian’s record.

Though the chance of vindication seemed impossible, there is always that sliver of possibility.

This was why the Poet God insisted on involving the Guardian.

If even the Guardian feared the stain, how could the Poet God wish to bear the blame for an unclear verdict?

Ultimately, the Poet God succeeded in drawing in the Guardian.

Since the event occurred before the South Glory Gate, it was within the Guardian’s jurisdiction, and he could not ignore it.

Even though both Poet God and Guardian had already judged the Celestial Roc Lord innocent, they communicated telepathically and delayed for half an hour, making the Celestial Roc Lord bow in waiting, as a modest lesson, before finally preparing to speak, “Celestial Roc Lord—”

Before the Poet God could finish, an angry shout rang out, echoing outside the South Glory Gate and shocking all the Lords of the Northern Wilderness.

“What a cunning Roc—twisting words and truth, daring to slander the Lord of Cold Mystery. How can you be tolerated?!”

With this furious roar, a figure clad in dark blue armor appeared—the Ocean God General, hair bristling in rage, blue eyes burning with a ghostly fire, glaring at the Celestial Roc Lord with murderous hatred.

Just what they feared had come to pass.

The Poet God and Guardian sighed inwardly, “We had only just worried that some friend or relative of the Lord of Cold Mystery would appear to clear his name—and here he is.”

“And who are you?” The Celestial Roc Lord, newly ascended and unfamiliar with the Lords of the Northern Wilderness, stood upright, his gaze cold as he addressed the Ocean God General.

“Let me make it clear for you. I am the sworn brother of the Lord of Cold Mystery—Ocean Lord,” the Ocean God General replied, his body ablaze with blue fire, murderous intent radiating.

“Oh! So you’re the Ocean Lord,” the Celestial Roc Lord sneered. He had heard of the Ocean Domain’s prosperity and now mocked, “I never imagined you’d be brothers with that weakling, the Lord of Cold Mystery.”

“So, you want vengeance for your worthless brother!” The Celestial Roc Lord’s eyes turned icy as he shouted, “Come then!”

His arrogance and disregard for the Ocean Lord completely inflamed the latter.

Boom!

Enraged beyond reason, the Ocean Lord ignored the grave consequences of fighting outside the South Glory Gate. His blue divine light surged, and he drew his blue spear, charging at the Celestial Roc Lord with a thunderous shout.

The Celestial Roc Lord reached out, grasped the void, and produced his own weapon—the Roc War Halberd—meeting the Ocean General’s assault with a cold smile.

Blue divine light clashed with dark divine light; blue spear met Roc halberd in fierce, frenzied combat, turning the world outside the South Glory Gate into chaos, eclipsing sun and moon.

Even the holy radiance of the City of the Gods was, for a time, subdued by the blue and dark lights, and all the gods of the Northern Wilderness quickly retreated from the battlefield.

The Poet God and Guardian, watching the mad battle between the Ocean General and Celestial Roc Lord, were furious and rushed forward to intervene.

Yet both combatants, swept up in true fury, refused to cease, even dragging the Poet God and Guardian into the fray.

Outside the South Glory Gate, four Lords were locked in battle—a spectacle none could ignore.

“Enough!”

A voice, as if descending from the Nine Heavens, thundered with wrath outside the South Glory Gate.

A giant purple hand, wreathed in endless violet lightning and exuding an overwhelming aura, descended from the sky toward the four Lords.

With a single grasp, the purple lightning hand seized them all, released the Poet God and Guardian, then vanished with the Ocean Lord and Celestial Roc Lord in an instant.

Left behind, the Poet God and Guardian looked upon the chaotic battlefield and the distant, watching gods, speechless.