The First Magic World War

Mama Karen said, "The person whom the count has requested is far more professional than this."

With a gentle wave of her hand, she made the words disappear, then she suddenly covered her mouth and laughed. The mama remembered the day she received the investigation document; the count very much wanted to kill Charles himself. She could understand that feeling.

"Even the Evil God, upon meeting young Mister Mecklen, might wish to kill him."

"Because not even the paradisical world the Evil God paints to lure people into corruption offers days as joyous as his."

"Only Anne could make such a willful and unruly young man willing to let go of his past!"

Mama Karen's face was full of kindness.

The Dreamscape quietly shattered...

Charles sat in the carriage, feeling a bit lost and also a hint of murderous intent. He, of course, knew what Cyrus used to threaten him; the memory was clear in his mind! Now, what Charles worried most about was whether Mama Karen would come to know these scandals. If Mama Karen knew, then it would mean Anne knew as well...

"Stagecoach lamps!"

"Cyrus, I wish you a wretched death."

"You want a duel? I will kill you right in front of both armies."

"I've held back several trump cards just to be able to defeat you in reality."

"Let's see then if your Steel Bones can withstand a few shots of the Magic-Breaking Bombshell Bullet."

Charles certainly didn't trust Cyrus; no matter what oaths Cyrus made, he wouldn't believe them. He didn't want to duel at first, but since Cyrus insisted on exposing his big secret, Charles no longer cared, and he intended to kill Cyrus in the duel.

Charles got out of the carriage, he had recently planned to try and condense a Blood Core and thus had not used Bloody Glory to devour life force, because only through self-cultivation could the condensed Blood Core be the most pure and perfect, with unlimited potential.

Condensing a Blood Core with the help of external forces...

Was not a choice for Charles.

Having decided to kill Cyrus with all his strength, Charles felt as if a certain blockage had been removed from his heart. The sky was not yet bright, and the camp was constantly stirring with people moving about, guarding against a sneak attack from Lady Southseraph.

A whiff of fragrance breezed through, and Charles immediately knew that Anatasiya had come.

Philedrica had already left, Taoles had been left behind in Machu Picchu, and now in this military camp, there was only one woman, Anatasiya.

This girl, who should have been full of vigor, always had an expression of unbearable exhaustion on her face. Even now, there was a touch of sorrow, deeply furrowed between her brows.

In a soft voice, she said, "Mister Mecklen..."

Seeing her hesitant expression, Charles grinned and said, "You haven't done anything wrong. Those aren't your responsibility, don't be too hard on yourself."

Anatasiya almost cried out loud. As an illegitimate daughter, although she couldn't appear in public, she had lived a comfortable life. Ever since her mother betrayed them to Lady Southseraph, everything in her life had collapsed. Her mother was dead, killed by the hands of her own loved one, and her father was dead, killed by the People of Baron. She had no idea where to go from there.

Anatasiya covered her face, trying her best not to let the tears flow.

Charles also thoughtfully said nothing, waiting for the girl to compose herself before saying, "No one can choose their birth."

Anatasiya asked with a downcast emotion, "Should I count myself as a person of Behemoth or as a Lady Southseraph?"

Charles spoke in a gentle voice, "Neither, you are a person of Fars!"

"This world divides people into different communities because of faith, religion, region, culture, and various other reasons. Because there are different stands, people dedicate their lives to illusory matters."

"Maybe some believe that their sacrifices have meaning, but I feel..."

"There should only be one kind of person in this world. People can wage wars for interests, for their country, for the right to survive, but they really shouldn't wage war over identity."

"I am a person of Fars, and so are you, as are those of Behemoth and those of South Serif. We shouldn't have different identities and sacrifice ourselves for them."

"Maybe what I say is wrong, maybe few people agree, but I truly think so."

Anatasiya had never heard such an unbelievable proposition. She always thought that the people of Behemoth were different from those of Lady Southseraph and even didn't know how to refute Charles for a moment, but deep down she faintly felt that if, within the Empire, there was no longer any distinction of where one was from, all being people of Fars, indeed a lot of wars could be reduced.

Charles handed her a handkerchief, feeling slightly embarrassed as he watched Anatasiya take it and wipe her tears.

The handkerchief belonged to Anne. It was after his escape, when he had just returned to Elysian Pastoral Street No. 58, and Anne came to see him, giving it to him to wipe his tears, which at the time were not sincere.

Now that he was lending it to another girl to wipe her tears, he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty toward Anne.

After Anatasiya had wiped away her tears, Charles, in a rather ungentlemanly manner, took the handkerchief back and said, "Perhaps what I'm saying makes no sense, but Miss Anatasiya, take it as a life creed!"

"Believing that you are not from any region but from Fars will make many things easier for you."

Although Charles was comforting Anatasiya, his mind was entirely filled with Cyrus; he thought of nothing else but the duel with Cyrus that was to take place tomorrow.

At that moment, Cyrus himself was having an argument with two generals of the Restoration Army.

Both were High-Level Transcendents and commanded two armies that ranked just below Cyrus. Though grudgingly subservient to Jonathan's leadership, they were not convinced by Cyrus.

Zolman spoke loudly, "Cyrus! You cannot duel with Charles. You are the leader of the Restoration Army; you cannot take such a risk. I shall take your place in tomorrow's duel, and I will surely slay this murderer beneath the walls of Mostar Fortress to avenge Jonathan."

Another general, Limberson Rock, said, "No, let me do it."

"Zolman, you are getting old; what if you make a mistake and disgrace our people of South Serif?" Read exclusive adventures at empire

"I've recently made a breakthrough in swordsmanship and have forged the Certificates of Glory, Courage, and War. I am certainly capable of teaching that little whelp from Behemoth what it means to be a true Knight."

News of Charles's actual status eventually spread within the South Ceraph Reclamation Army.

While the lower-ranked soldiers remained 'Intimidated' by his military exploits, the high-ranking officers of the Restoration Army all knew that Charles Mecklen was nothing more than a Lower-Ranked Supernatural.

So when Cyrus expressed his intention to duel Charles beneath the walls of Mostar Fortress, the other two most important generals of the Restoration Army, Zolman and Limberson Rock, both wanted to fight in this 'destined' duel that would make them famous all over the world.

Cyrus remained silent, allowing the two generals to argue until they were about to escalate the quarrel into a duel. He then said indifferently, "The people of South Serif cannot fight among themselves; Zolman will participate in the battle. As a level fifteen Knight, he has a slightly higher rank."

Zolman and Limberson Rock exchanged glances, each with a trace of smugness. Their argument was actually performed for Cyrus. Before coming to Cyrus, they had agreed that it didn't matter which of them would fight the duel, as long as it wasn't Cyrus himself to earn prestige.

They both hoped to prevent another Jonathan from rising.