Chapter 91: Fire Phoenix

The entire room fell silent. Everyone could see how terrifying these two creatures were, yet the Pope merely raised his hand casually and spoke a single command.

Asa was equally stunned. His plan had been to use the overwhelming presence of the two Death Knights to distract the surrounding forces, giving him an opening to act. However, he hadn't been able to move. Lancelote and the three Temple Knights hadn't even glanced in that direction. Their full attention was on him. Now, it was Asa who was caught off guard, his focus fractured by the sheer astonishment of the situation.

This wasn't the work of White Magic paralysis or a binding spell. The Death Knights weren't living beings, so White Magic couldn't control them. Even the most advanced White Magic wouldn't be able to stop the Death Knights entirely, let alone halt their incredible speed and break their momentum in an instant. Asa felt a subtle shift in the air, a sensation that something had moved around him as the Pope acted.

Asa couldn't fully comprehend what was happening, but his sharp meditative senses made one thing clear: the power that had frozen the Death Knights didn't come from the Pope himself. It was something much larger and more overwhelming, something beyond his immediate perception.

Then, his eyes were drawn to the Pope's outstretched finger. There, on it, was a ring that looked strangely familiar.

It was simple in design, with plain colors and no extravagant decorations. The ring was unremarkable, with only a small, barely noticeable scratch marking its surface. Asa recognized it immediately—this was the very ring that had once been placed on the Black Star, the one he had always worn. It was said to have been left behind by the previous Pope, Decken.

Others might not have noticed, but Asa's heightened perception through his meditation skills allowed him to sense it clearly—the strange sensation in the air seemed to emanate directly from the ring. As the Pope raised his hand and spoke, a peculiar force radiated from the ring, spreading through the surrounding air.

"This is the Ring of the King," the Pope said, noticing Asa's gaze fixed on it. "It's a relic crafted by the previous Pope, Decken, over the span of more than a decade. It's a holy artifact capable of counteracting the power of the Black Star. Don't expect to pull off any tricks now."

The Pope's voice was calm but carried an air of finality. "In this situation, capturing you will require little effort. Out of respect for your elders, I'm giving you a chance. I'll say it once more—surrender, and do it willingly."

Surrounded by elite swordsmen and hundreds of mages, Asa stood there unarmed, seemingly without any overwhelming presence or intimidation. Yet every person in the circle, each a seasoned expert in their own right, could sense something different. They all possessed the instincts of true masters, and they knew that if the person in the center didn't surrender, disarm, and submit willingly, anyone who attempted to subdue him would pay a heavy price.

Asa let out a cold snort and said, "You think you can scare me with that thing? I've worn that ring far longer than you have."

"Oh? Is that so?" The Pope raised an eyebrow slightly, as if somewhat surprised. "Unfortunately, no matter how long you've worn it, it's of no use. This ring can only be wielded by the master of the Glory Fortress. The Ring of the King—'king' is a concept someone like you could never truly understand."

It was almost as though the Pope was demonstrating. He raised his hand slightly toward Asa, but Asa didn't just feel the Pope's gesture. It was as if the entire Glory Fortress itself had come to life, like a colossal giant rising, its gaze now fixed menacingly upon him.

"You managed to infiltrate so quietly... I must admit, I underestimated you. But as long as you're in the Glory Fortress, you can't escape my senses. For that, I should thank you, as you've led us to uncover the traitor we've been searching for…"

As the Pope spoke, the strange fluctuations in the air around them grew heavier, more intense.

At that moment, Asa finally understood why he had been discovered, why he had been tracked and ambushed without even realizing it. Until now, he hadn't noticed the ring's presence, nor the fluctuations it emitted. But as soon as he focused on it, he realized that these strange ripples had always been there—permeating the entire Glory Fortress, omnipresent like the air itself.

These fluctuations were faint, seemingly devoid of magical energy, so subtle that even he had barely sensed them. It almost felt like a hallucination brought on by excessive concentration. Yet, Asa was certain—this was the very force that had suddenly stopped the two death knights in their tracks, that had intercepted Ayime's teleportation scroll, and that had clouded his perception, making him oblivious to the ambush.

Though the power was delicate, its effects were unimaginably strong. Asa knew—he had no way to resist it.

This time, Asa fully felt it.

The overwhelming force pressed down on him from all directions, like an invisible mountain crashing onto his shoulders. It wasn't magic, nor was it any tangible attack—it was the sheer weight of faith, the accumulated reverence and devotion of countless believers over centuries, concentrated into an irresistible force. It was the will of the Glory Fortress itself, and under its oppression, even time seemed to slow.

But Asa had already made his move.

His fingers gripped the object at his waist—a small, seemingly unremarkable item. Yet the moment he pulled it out, the entire hall seemed to tremble with an unseen disturbance.

"Stop!" The command rang out again, not just from the Pope, but from the castle, the walls, the very sky above. The pressure magnified, trying to freeze his actions in place. It was the same power that had halted the death knights, that had crushed Ayime's teleportation spell—but this time, it was directed entirely at him.

And yet, Asa did not stop.

A furious roar erupted amidst the overwhelming, grandiose sound. Asa's fight spirit flared brightly—he was using all his strength to resist this force.

But, just as the Pope had said, no matter how powerful an individual was, they could not possibly contend with the spiritual force accumulated over centuries from the faith and worship of countless believers in the Glory Fortress. The glow of Asa's fight spirit had only just ignited before it was completely extinguished. Even his roar was drowned in the Pope's resounding voice. Like Rodhart and Hilika before him, he stiffened, motionless, and fell.

The Pope's face did not show a hint of relief; instead, it was taut like a slab of stone.

Yet, in that fleeting moment when Asa's fight spirit had burst forth, he had seized a brief opportunity—just enough to pull something from his waist and throw it.

It was a crimson crystal. The instant it left Asa's hand, it ignited as if set ablaze, burning with an eerie fire in midair.

Crystals do not burn—what burned was magical energy. As the energy ignited, a strange yet grand and imposing force surged wildly from within the crystal.

Everyone surrounding Asa was an expert. Though the Pope had no time to issue a command, the moment they saw the object being thrown and sensed the overwhelming aura it emitted, all those capable of taking action did so immediately. They could tell that this was likely some form of magical scroll or artifact.

Over a hundred high-ranking priests began chanting holy incantations in unison, almost simultaneously. They all cast purification spells. A tidal wave of white magical energy rushed forth, instantly enveloping the burning crystal in layers of divine power. At the same time, one of the temple knights, Welleskay, raised his golden war bow and fired a dispelling arrow made of crystal. The arrow streaked through the air, aimed directly at the flaming crystal, carrying with it the power to shatter magic.

The magical flames on the crystal were indeed extinguished. With the purification spells of over a hundred high-ranking priests—capable of dispelling even a forbidden spell scroll—the immense power of white magic, designed specifically to break apart magical structures, should have been enough to purge the energy within the crystal.

However, at that very moment, cries of alarm erupted among the priests. Though the flames had been extinguished, the strange and overwhelming aura remained completely unaffected. Instead, it surged even more fiercely, tearing through the layers of white magic and expanding to engulf the entire area.

With a crisp ding, Welleskay's crystal anti-magic arrow struck the airborne crystal directly. The arrow shattered instantly upon impact, but the crystal itself remained completely unscathed. It merely shot higher into the air from the force of the blow. The arrow had been launched with great power, sending the crystal soaring high above. Every gaze followed its ascent, watching as it climbed higher and higher into the sky.

Then, with a muffled boom, the flames that had just been extinguished reignited—not merely returning, but now roaring with a force a hundredfold, a thousandfold, tens of thousands of times greater than before. In an instant, a vast sea of fire erupted high above, illuminating the night sky as if it were broad daylight.

But even more overwhelming than the fire was the sheer force of its presence. The entirety of Glory Fortress was engulfed in its aura, and every single person beneath it felt an indescribable sense of awe and dread—not fear of magic, but of something far greater, an existence so vast and commanding that its mere presence instilled a deep and primal reverence.

The sea of flames did not descend but instead remained suspended in midair. Within the fire, a silhouette could be seen, rapidly growing larger as the fiery ocean shifted its shape. As the figure expanded into a massive bird, tens of meters in length, the flames coalesced and enveloped its form. The great firebird spread its wings, sending waves of scorching heat rushing downward.

"It's the Fire Phoenix!" Countless voices erupted in exclamations of shock and awe. This was the mythical beast of legend, the immortal divine bird said to never die. The entire sky was now bathed in shades of red and gold under the brilliance of its flames.

In stark contrast to the fiery sky, the expressions of the Pope and everyone present darkened, turning ashen.

With a resounding cry that shook the heavens, the Fire Phoenix circled once in the sky, then dove toward Glory Fortress, wreathed in blazing flames.

Though Asa remained immobilized on the ground, his mind and spirit were completely unaffected. He could still convey his intentions to the Phoenix, and his command was simple—attack, destroy.

This was the crystal given to him by Moriel. Within it was the ultimate summoning magic of the ancient elves—a spell to summon a Phoenix. However, this was not the true divine Phoenix of legend. Like the elemental giants, it was merely a temporary elemental construct, formed from an immense concentration of magical energy. Controlling the Phoenix was no different from commanding any other summoned creature.