370: Sabrina's collaboration

Chaos Royal Court, the Land of Slumber.

Space is distorted, and time loses its meaning here.

Filthy energy surges like a tide, eroding all order.

"Oh, respected original body, good day. The deeply trusted Number 69 sends her highest greetings to you."

Number 69 curtsied elegantly, performing an impeccable Elven noble salute.

The female elf she manifested had an exquisite face.

But her emerald eyes held a sediment of fanaticism and chaos that was incompatible with the purity of the Elf Race.

Sabrina lazily lifted her eyelids, a hint of playfulness flashing through her pupils.

She reclined on the throne. "Number 69."

"How is the development of the Blood Elves progressing?"

A strand of silver-white hair was wound around her fingertip, and her tongue lightly licked the corner of her lips, as if savoring some ultimate delicacy.

"I am still waiting... to drink my fill of Avila's divine blood."

Number 69 looked up, her face blooming with the joy of being questioned. "Original body, everything is progressing perfectly!"

"The Blood Elf army is unstoppable, and those stubborn Ancient Tree Guards of the Emerald Royal Court are retreating steadily."

"In a few more years—no, perhaps even sooner—we will be able to trample the Elf Royal Court and take the elf mother tree for ourselves." She spoke rapidly, with the urgency of someone presenting a treasure.

"Heh, a few years?"

A soft snort escaped Sabrina's nose.

The ecstasy on Number 69's face instantly froze, turning into bewildered helplessness. "Original body... a few years is but a blink of an eye to you... Is... is there something Number 69 hasn't done well enough?"

Her nails dug into her palms, and her emerald eyes clouded with mist. She must not become a piece of trash in the eyes of the original body!!!

She must not be destroyed.

Sabrina's expression turned slightly cold.

Number 69's execution was acceptable, but her brain... was ultimately the limitation of a clone.

"A few years is enough for Avila and that meddling woman, the God of Light, to react and join forces to come knocking on our door."

"Do you think Avila wouldn't guess that this is my handiwork?"

Number 69's pupils shrank, and she said urgently, "Then you must be careful, original body."

"If Avila and the God of Light join forces, even if the battlefield is the Chaos Royal Court, it will still be a threat to you."

"Tsk, fool." Sabrina lightly tapped the armrest of the throne, sending out a ripple of distortion. "Can't I just call for another 'god'?"

Number 69's neck shrank, and then she had an epiphany.

Backstabbing within the Old God system was the norm, and trust was thinner than the waters of the River Styx. If the original body sought cooperation within the same system, she would likely be sold out and still help the other party count the money.

Unless... "An evil god?" she ventured.

"Not entirely beyond saving." A hint of calculation flashed in Sabrina's crimson pupils. "The Orc Royal Court and the Kingdom of Barbatos have already changed hands."

"What?" Number 69 gasped, covering her mouth.

"I buried a few clones in the royal capital; otherwise, I really would have been kept in the dark." A clump of filth condensed at Sabrina's fingertip, reflecting the chaotic silhouette of Carna City.

"He's quite an interesting evil god, with decisive actions and dark enough methods. He's even using the God of Light's method of controlling people's hearts through a church, and doing it quite convincingly."

"However, acting so secretively suggests he's likely just a new face who has recently entered the eighth rank. I wonder if he's a local rat from Ativi or a little bug that slipped in from some other plane."

Number 69 followed the train of thought: "The original body wants to find 'Him'."

"Mhm. Go contact the representative of that 'God of the Abyss' in the lower realm." A cruel arc curved at the corner of Sabrina's lips. "I want to discuss a cooperation with Him."

"An Eighth-Rank Deity, if handled properly, will be more than enough to tie up Avila. Even if he can't kill her, keeping her too busy to attend to anything else will be sufficient."

..."Who? Who's there?" Tudor suddenly spoke, his right hand pressing against the ground.

Sixth-Circle Earth Magic: Leyline Tremor.

Boom!

The ground of the hall ahead suddenly trembled, and the stone bricks cracked in a spiderweb-like pattern. A figure darted out from the shadows and landed steadily in the center of the hall.

It was an exquisitely faced female elf, but her emerald eyes hid a fanaticism that did not belong to an elf.

"A crude way of greeting, sir," Number 69 said mockingly, dusting off non-existent dust from her skirt.

"I am Number 69, a Divine Envoy under the Mother Goddess of Flesh."

Tudor's pupils shrank slightly.

A Divine Envoy?

It was clearly a clone created by Sabrina by cutting off her own divinity.

A look of appropriate solemnity appeared on his face, and he placed his right hand over his chest in a standard mage's salute. "My apologies. The stronghold hasn't been peaceful lately; there are always some petty lowlifes spying around."

"Lowlifes?" Number 69 chuckled, a strand of silver hair winding around her finger.

"The matter of Barbatos changing hands might be hidden from those ignorant Nature Gods, but how could it be hidden from the Mother Goddess's discerning eyes?"

The ground beneath her feet cracked open, and a mass of crimson flesh crawled out from the gap, hovering in mid-air; blood vessels pulsed on the surface of the flesh ball, emitting a nauseating bloody stench.

"The God of the Abyss certainly has good methods." Number 69's gaze swept over Tudor. "But how much of a storm can you alone stir up in Ativi?"

Cold sweat broke out on Tudor's back.

If he had used spiritual power to resist just now, his identity would have been exposed. The power of this clone was far beyond expectations, nearly at the peak of the seventh rank... His Majesty's cautious planning was indeed necessary.

Tudor forced a smooth, merchant-like smile onto his face. "The Divine Envoy overpraises me."

"My Lord has just arrived in this world and only seeks a place to settle down and make a living."

"Settle down and make a living?" Number 69 suddenly approached, her emerald eyes piercing directly into Tudor's. "The flames of war are about to rise in the Emerald Royal Court, and the Orc Kingdom is entirely in your pocket... Quite the 'settling down'."

The scent of humus rushed at him, and the judges brush in Tudor's sleeve came to a sudden halt. He maintained his smile. "What instructions does the Mother Goddess have?"

"Cooperation."

Number 69 pointed to the pulsing mass of flesh. "The Mother Goddess is willing to help the God of the Abyss truly 'gain a firm foothold'."

"The price is very simple."

A slit opened on the surface of the flesh ball, revealing rows of forest-white teeth.

"Tie up Avila," Number 69 said in a dismissive voice, as if speaking of something inconsequential.

"No matter what methods the God of the Abyss uses, keep that pointy-ear too busy to care about anything else. Once the Mother Goddess has drunk her fill of elven blood, you shall have a share of the Ativi Continent."

Tudor's Adam's apple bobbed.

He bowed, hiding the sharp glint in his eyes. "The Mother Goddess's kindness is great; I will certainly report this to my Lord. However..." He looked up, a troubled expression on his face.

"The Elf Goddess is an Eighth-Rank Deity, and she has the God of Light as an ally. My Lord has just arrived; this might..."

"Heh." Number 69 threw out a blood-colored crystal. "This item can be used to contact the Mother Goddess. Within three days, I expect good news." Before she finished speaking, she and the flesh ball dissipated into a blood mist.

The hall returned to a dead silence, with only the blood-colored crystal floating in mid-air.

Tudor did not touch the crystal immediately.

Instead, he stood there for a long time until he confirmed that the other party's aura had completely vanished before enveloping the hall with a magic barrier.

"Lord Judge?" You Yu's communication talisman lit up again.

"It's fine."

Tudor finally picked up the crystal, his fingertips brushing over the hideous blood vessels on its surface. "Just an unexpected piece of bait." He looked up toward the Emerald Royal Court, his gaze deep.

[His Majesty has been planning for so long; how could he be willing to do the hard work for others to reap the rewards?]

This muddy water should be stirred by the Underworld.