Grace had never seen Elder Sage so distressed.
“Grace, something big is about to go down. I just divined the outcome of the Scenic Monastery incident, and the signs are ominous. It might mess with the fate of the nation,” Elder Sage said with a heavy tone.
“Affect the fate of the nation? Does that mean Logan is going to die?” She raised an eyebrow. Last night, she had specifically reminded and even provided a talisman, hoping that nothing would happen to Logan. Because if he were to fall, it would undoubtedly lead to a cascade of battles, turning the land into a river of blood.
“It has nothing to do with Logan. When I speak of the nation’s fate, I’m talking about a vital force,” Elder Sage furrowed his brow.
He continued, “In this Scenic Monastery incident, someone might disrupt the vital force. If that happens, the nation will be in chaos. A great calamity will be imminent, and the entire Dragonmarsh will undergo a drastic change!”
“Is it that serious?” Grace’s eyebrows tightened.
As a member of the royal family and a disciple of the Regal Observatory, she naturally understood the importance of vital force. Once disrupted, it would lead to political unrest, power transitions, and, in severe cases, even a change of monarchy.
“Master, is there any way to rectify this?” She inquired.
“The die is cast, and there’s no changing it. From now on, we can only go with the flow of fate,” he shook his head with a sigh. Elder Sage had attempted to glimpse into the future, seeking a solution.
Yet, the instant that idea entered his mind, it was as though an unexplainable force had struck him, leaving him with a pounding headache.
It manifested as a premonition-a clear warning. If he were to proceed, he would undoubtedly face severe consequences, as if the universe itself resisted the change.
“The matter is grave. I must return and inform my father. I hope you can understand, Master.” Grace nodded with respect.
“Futile efforts-even the royal family can’t change anything.” Elder Sage shook his head again.
“Regardless, we have to try.” Her gaze remained resolute.
“Very well, you may go.”
Elder Sage no longer stopped Grace, sighing softly. “You carry a unique destiny. Although you can’t defy fate, you might be able to mitigate some losses.”
“Thank you, Master,” Grace said and decisively turned to leave. In Wyvern Ridge, within a grand palace, a majestic statue sat atop a sacred platform, enveloped in the sweet scent of smoldering candles.
Kneeling before the statue were more than a dozen people immersed in quiet contemplation as if they had long entered a state of deep meditation.
These were members of the Dragon Guard, the most mysterious and powerful force in the Dragonmarsh. Though their numbers were small, each was a grandmaster martial artist capable of withstanding armies.
The Dragon Guard remained hidden in the shadows, revealing itself only to the very few who were aware of its existence. Even many scions of the royal family were kept in the dark, let alone common dignitaries.
They were not subject to imperial jurisdiction. The Dragon Guard held a position above the throne.
While not involved in national affairs, every decision made by the organization was mandatory for the king. To put it simply, the Dragon Guard was the true ruler of the entire Dragonmarsh.
A red spear at the forefront of the palace began to shake. The crimson glow around the spear intensified, accompanied by a deep, resonant sound, as if it were about to pierce through the sky.
In an instant, the Dragon Guard members, who had been deep in meditation, opened their eyes. Confused whispers filled the air.
“What’s happening? Why is the founder’s spear moving?”
“The Inferno Fury Spear, which held the title of the world’s top spear, has long been divine. What could threaten its existence?”
“Could a formidable enemy have infiltrated Aylka?”
They exchanged uncertain glances, trying to make sense of the situation. As the crimson spear continued its persistent vibrations, cracks began to appear on the surface of the stone statue serving as the altar’s centerpiece.
These hairline fractures rapidly spread across its entire form. After a brief moment, the statue burst open with a loud explosion sound.
Subsequently, a white-haired, red- eyed man slowly rose from the altar. The man’s tall figure, cold demeanor, and fiery red eyes exuded a palpable intimidation.
“Congratulations, founder, for emerging from seclusion!”
The members of the Dragon Guard immediately paid their respects, their faces filled with awe.
The white-haired founder is none other than the Chief Guildmaster of the Dragon Guard and the second-ranked powerhouse on the Astonishing World List, Alaric Drakon.