Black Hearted Mage

Chapter 352 Fat Dog Wakes Up

The Roland Empire's contingent was quite large, led personally by Duke Joyce of Fire Maple City. He was accompanied by Old Quinn, the Empire's deputy commander of the Eagle Eye, and officials from over a dozen departments, including the Ministry of Finance and the Department of Foreign Affairs. Surprisingly, the delegation also included several chefs wearing tall hats, rumored to be renowned chefs specializing in the royal household. The accompanying guards were astonishingly numerous, their black armor gleaming coldly in the sunlight. However, the castle simply couldn't accommodate so many, so most of the soldiers were forced to camp in the oak forest outside the city walls. Only a few elite troops were allowed to serve within the castle walls.

Caesars leaned against the stone pillars of the cloister, his eyes coldly fixed on the closed door of the conference hall. He had long anticipated that this meeting would be a mere formality. Although the Saint hated the current Pope to the core, she was still a member of the Church. Asking her to personally overthrow the very Church system on which she depended for survival was as absurd as asking a tree to sever its roots.

Beneath the old oak tree in the castle's backyard, Old Quinn was stroking his ancient staff. The elusive Hawkeye leader hadn't appeared here to hear the official rhetoric of the two countries. The true purpose of his visit lay in the possession of the Rose Castle's master.

The afternoon sun lazily shone across the Rose Castle courtyard, the swaying shadows of the trees bringing a touch of coolness to the parched air. Caesars sat cross-legged in the shade of an oak tree, his fingertips tapping the ground, attempting to drift off to a nap. However, the comings and goings of the castle, the whispers of servants, the pounding of hammers in the forge, and the neighing of warhorses in the distant stables all disturbed his mind.

At this moment, the hunched figure of old Quinn appeared in front of him, his skinny fingers stroking the belt around his waist, and a shrewd light flashing in his turbid eyes.

"Caesars, His Majesty has exempted you from taxes for twenty years. It should be worth a golden ginseng, right?" Old Quinn's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against wood.

Caesars opened his eyes, his lips curled up slightly. He knew that Old Quinn wouldn't come to him for no reason—this old fox never did business at a loss.

"That's enough." Caesars replied lazily, "I can give you an extra golden ginseng as an advance payment for the next transaction."

Old Quinn's wrinkled face immediately relaxed, like dry bark moistened by rain. Even his cloudy eyes brightened a little. He rubbed his hands together and chuckled, "I knew it was the most enjoyable to do business with you."

Caesars didn't respond, but narrowed his eyes slightly, looking past Old Quinn toward the distant city wall. After a moment's silence, he whispered, "Old Quinn, when is the Roland Empire going to take action?"

Old Quinn's smile faded a bit, and he sighed, "I'm afraid the war won't start for the time being, but the assassination of the church... is still going on."

Caesars snorted coldly, tapping his knees lightly with his fingertips. "You don't want to pay the price, but you want to overthrow the Saint Laurent Empire? There's no such thing as a cheap bargain."

Old Quinn shrugged helplessly and pulled out a dark purple magic gem from his bosom, which shone coldly in the sunlight. "I'm just an errand boy. Warfare is never my concern." He paused, his voice lowering. "War is too cruel... Military casualties are a minor issue, but what about the civilians? They'll flee, the borderlands will be abandoned, food will run out, and the number of people who starve to death... will outnumber those who fall on the battlefield."

Kaisas was silent for a long time before finally pulling out two golden ginseng roots from his space ring and handing them over. Old Quinn carefully took them, their eyes briefly meeting as he pulled out several boxes of magic crystals.

Although the transaction was completed, the solemnity in the air did not dissipate.

Caesars now felt that letting the three old men stay in the castle was a mistake. These three, along with the Saint, were a definite revivalist of the Church of Saint Laurent. After the Pope's death, it seemed that if they raised their hands, the Church of Saint Laurent would be revived in their hands.

Seven days later, the gilded carriages from Fire Maple City finally rolled over the gravel road and left the border. Hidden within the sleeves of the nobles' ornate silk garments were parchment contracts secretly signed with the Saint. Caesars stood atop the castle's watchtower, watching the convoy's rising dust, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the frost marks on his sword's hilt—the conspiracies waged between the lips of politicians were ultimately no match for the sharp, decisive blow of a sword.

When the swift eagles of the Saint Laurent Empire arrived in the counties, bearing the decree sealed with purple wax, the entire diocese erupted in a turmoil, as if struck by holy light. Believers tore up years of accumulated indulgences, leaving yellowed parchment fluttering like withered butterflies across the church square. In the cardinals' secret meeting room, the crystal chandelier shook violently, and someone smashed a gold-inlaid inkwell, sending crimson ink flowing like tears of blood across the golden-threaded "Law of Atonement" embroidered on the floor.

The wasteland behind Rose Castle was undergoing a strange transformation. The once knee-deep sedge grass had shrunk into charred spirals, and the exposed shale surface was covered with spiderweb-like cracks. Whenever the midday sun beat down directly, a tiny crackling sound like glass breaking could be heard from deep within the rock. The abandoned gold mine exploration cave, like the maw of a giant beast, continuously spewed out waves of distorting heat. The rock around the cave entrance had melted into glassy, ​​dark red crystals.

Even more disturbing was the unrest of the fire element. At night, detection crystals would suddenly burst into crimson flashes, like stars being crushed by invisible hands. Fire mages were horrified to discover that the elemental power, once as gentle as a stream, was now unleashed like a wild horse. One apprentice, attempting to summon even the most basic flame, had his eyebrow singed by the blazing flames that shot out from his fingertips. This was the reason for Old Quinn's hasty departure, arriving a few days before the delegation left.

On the eve of Emily's escape from the Rose Castle, she was horrified to discover that the fire element in her magic sea was escaping and was completely out of her control.

Kaisas took a deep breath, held up an arcane shield that shone with purple light, and slowly walked to the edge of the cave. Even though the fat dog had fallen asleep, he could still clearly feel the familiar soul fluctuations - this guy was conveying his desire for the fire element.

"This greedy fat dog..." Caesars smiled bitterly, shook his head, and began to search his interspatial ring. With a clanging sound, bags of fire crystals collected from the depths of the southern continent's volcanoes were pulled out. These crystals glowed dark red in the darkness, like sealed flames.

Kaisas tossed the heavy animal hide bags into the exploration cave one by one. The crystal bags hit the cave floor with a dull thud, startling the sleeping puppy. It whined in protest, as if blaming its owner for disturbing its sweet dreams.

When the seventeenth bag of fire crystals fell to the bottom of the cave, something strange happened. A pillar of blazing white flame shot up into the sky, illuminating the entire cave like daylight. Caesars instinctively raised his hands to shield himself, but the heat wave still forced him back repeatedly. The air was filled with the acrid smell of burning, the lingering scent of the instantly vaporized hide bags.

"What the hell!"

Caesar cursed loudly as he saw the rock on the cave wall begin to soften, dripping like melted butter. The elemental frenzy unleashed by the fire crystals was far beyond expectations, and the temperature of the entire cave was rising at an alarming rate.

Worse still, he discovered an abnormality in his mana circulation. For the past two days, he'd been barely absorbing the energy from the arcane crystals. Those once-docile magic crystals had now transformed into dangerous bombs. Apparently, Fatty's slumber had not only disturbed the fire element but also triggered a rampage of all elemental energies.

"This is a big trouble..."

Caesars wiped the sweat from his forehead, suddenly thinking that the Saint Laurent Church's members were probably in even greater distress right now. After all, Holy Light, as positive energy, would be even more severely disrupted in such an environment of elemental chaos. He could almost imagine the Saint and the three stubborn old men frantically struggling, and a hint of gloating curled up his lips.

Caesars returned to the castle's living room, his boot heels clicking against the marble floor. He was surprised to find that the several important figures gathered there all had solemn expressions. The saint in her jet-black robes nervously stroked her crystal necklace; beads of sweat beaded the foreheads of the old priests Depero and Barov; even the usually calm Paladin instructor, Wrathion, frowned, his fingers unconsciously tapping the hilt of his sword.

"Marquis, what on earth did you just do?" Depero's voice trembled, an unnatural blush appearing on his pale face. "The elemental forces all around us are boiling!" He pressed his chest with difficulty, where the Holy Light emblem flickered uncontrollably. The others also looked agonized, their light elements clearly vibrating violently.

Caesars casually took off his leather gloves, a playful smile on his face: "My fat dog lacked fire elemental energy, so I gave it some extra food."

"A snack?" The Saint suddenly stood up from her velvet chair, her black robe flowing like water. "What did you feed it? The fire elements within miles are rioting!"

"Oh, just some Fire Crystals." Caesars adjusted his cuffs casually, "Seventeen bags in total."

This number caused the saint's amethyst necklace to suddenly burst into dazzling light.

"Seventeen bags?" Instructor Wrathion's armor made a metallic clang. "How many are there exactly?"

Kaisas tilted his head and thought for a moment: "I didn't count carefully, but one bag is about four or five thousand yuan?"

The living room fell into a dead silence. The clergy exchanged glances, and Reverend Depero's staff clanked to the ground. In this suffocating silence, the entire castle suddenly trembled violently, the crystal chandeliers swaying wildly, and paintings falling from the walls. Then, from afar, a roar so resonant it shook the earth, a roar so deep it made the castle's stained-glass windows hum.

Even from a distance of a mile, the oppressive feeling contained in that roar made everyone's hair stand on end. Wrathion looked out the window with a pale face. At this moment, they could all imagine that the "fat dog" was probably the size of a behemoth, and every step would leave burning claw marks on the ground.

The gold mine on the edge of the territory, silent for days, was now emitting an unusual heat wave. Ever since the puppies fell into a deep sleep, the temperature deep within the mine had been steadily climbing, even the tunnel walls glowing an eerie dark red. The miners, awakened by the sudden shockwave, happened to witness crimson lava gushing from the abandoned exploration hole—a vague shadow seemed to flash through the viscous lava.

This small-scale eruption came and went quickly, the boiling magma strangely solidifying into obsidian as soon as it flowed out. But the lingering fire element in the air remained scorching, burning like a substance until it gradually subsided half a quarter of an hour later. Meanwhile, in the meeting hall of Rose Castle, the discussion about "Fat Dog" was interrupted by Sean's exclamation—the puppy, once as plump as a barrel, had shrunk into a furry ball the size of a leather boot.

The creature burst into the living room with a whimper of grievance, sprinting towards Caesars like a cannonball, its short, pudgy front paws gently tapping its forehead. The silver goblet in Wrathion's hand clanked to the ground. Though reduced in size, the pressure emanating from the furry ball made him feel as if he were facing the crater of an erupting volcano.

"You're still blaming me?" Caesars grabbed the puppy by the scruff of the neck and brought it in front of him. "You looked so angry at that time. If I didn't throw the animal-skin bag down, do you want me to send it down there?" The exposed fat dog immediately drooped its ears, curled up into a ball of fluff and stuck to its owner's boots in a flattering manner. Its fawning appearance made it look like a panting furry shoe ornament.

"Don't try that." Caesars flicked the dark red fur ball with the tip of his boot, sending it tumbling far away. But then it darted back, spitting out two saliva-stained storage rings from between its fangs. Caesars immediately unleashed a cleansing spell, and suddenly a crimson knot, shimmering with scales, appeared in his hand.

"It's made of the soft hide of a ground dragon's belly. It should be big enough for you when you grow to be the size of a salamander," Caesars said as he twisted the rope into a collar. However, the puppy was so small that the thick rope loop around its neck looked like a scarf. The little creature didn't mind. It stood up excitedly, its claws tugging at its owner's wrist, its scarlet eyes filled with curiosity.

"You get this treasure that even lava can't burn." As Caesars tied the knot, the puppy suddenly let out a long whimper like a wolf cub, and rolled on the surface of its owner's boots with its fiery red "scarf", like a ball of fur on fire.

"You idiot! The fire salamander's leather has already been tanned. Your piece is with the head maid!"

Caesars leaned on the sofa, playing with a dark red scale in his hand, a smile on his lips. He deliberately dragged out his voice, but his eyes were interested in the puppy's reaction.

Sure enough, the puppy, which had been lying at his feet, pricked up its ears and rolled over. Its red eyes lit up instantly, its tail wagging like a top, and it ran towards Cecilia. Halfway through, it even turned back and whimpered at Caesars, its fawning demeanor like a money-grubbing, mercenary businessman.

"Fat dog, you have to become normal size, otherwise I can't measure you!" Cecilia put one hand on her waist, holding a measuring tape in the other, and glared at the puppy in front of her. She had seen through this guy's tricks long ago - every time he wanted something, he would pretend to be cute, which was shameless.

The puppy tilted its head at that, pretending to think for two seconds. Suddenly, a crimson light erupted from its body, and fiery magic patterns emerged beneath its fur, like flowing magma. Its body expanded at a visible speed, and its bones made a teeth-grinding "crackling" sound. When the light faded, the originally small and adorable puppy had transformed into a magical beast comparable to a bison.

The brilliant magic patterns gradually faded beneath its thick fur, though occasionally sparks could be seen emanating from its nostrils as it breathed. Most striking of all were its four short legs, each as thick as a man's calf. The ground shook slightly as it walked. When its bloody maw opened wide, its jagged fangs gleamed coldly in the sunlight, like rows of inverted daggers, a chilling sight.