Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 428: Chapter 89: Wind, Thunder, Water

"And you, Cyril... oh, I should call you Holy Throne Ete I now, right? Congratulations on your coronation! Do you like this ’congratulatory gift’? Is it more memorable than the bells you were expecting? You wanted to use the bells to announce a new era? Excellent. We’ll deliver some... ’fresh air’ fitting for this new era! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Manic, malicious laughter echoed from within the rift as streams of green Qi gushed out, swiftly converging and spinning into visible, eerie vortexes of dark green wind.

On the altar, Pope Ete I’s expression was ice-cold, but the knuckles of the hand gripping his Scepter had turned white.

The moment Adrian heard that name, his expression changed drastically, and an incredulous roar burst from between his gritted teeth, "Calvin! Calvin of the Withered Breath! That Withered Wizard who should have died long ago in the Frozen Wilderness! How could he possibly be alive?! And inside the Sanctuary! Noe VII! What kind of watch did you keep?! You couldn’t even stop a monster who should have been purged ages ago, and you let him escape to spread this devastating Withered Wind!"

Just then.

From the northern sky above the Holy City, three long, deep horn blasts echoed—so profound they seemed capable of freezing the very soul.

WHOOM!

WHOOM!

WHOOM!

Before the echoes of the horns had faded, three brilliant, ice-blue pillars of light, like swords tearing through the heavens, shot from the north in an instant and descended upon the sky above the ruins of the Sanctuary!

The pillars of light dissipated, revealing three Metropolitan Bishops clad in deep blue Sacrificial Robes and wearing Northern Sapphire Crowns.

The one in the lead was the Valkendu Metropolitan Bishop. His ice-blue eyes swept over the tragic scene below without a ripple of emotion, while the two Metropolitan Bishops behind him wore solemn expressions, their auras perfectly in sync with Valken’s.

Immediately after, an indescribable, vast pressure, as if from an ancient ice field, descended like an invisible mountain and instantly enveloped the ruins of the Holy City.

At the core of that pressure, space rippled like water.

A figure stepped out from within, in utter silence.

He was cloaked in a deep gray robe that seemed to shimmer with a dark luster. His hair and beard were white, but his face was as smooth as an ice sculpture, betraying no sign of his age.

Most unsettling of all were his eyes. The pupil of his left eye seemed to contain a slowly swirling blizzard, while his right eye reflected the serene, endless expanse of a polar night sky.

It was none other than the mysterious Great Shepherd Leader, who had ruled the Northern Shepherd Chief District for three hundred years.

"Noisy."

He raised a withered hand and made a grasping motion toward the largest rift, which was spewing the Withered Breath.

In an instant, the surging vortex of dark green wind, as if seized violently by an invisible giant hand, abruptly halted and solidified!

The malevolent green wind had been stubbornly eroding Divine Magic and devouring life. Yet, under the Great Shepherd Leader’s deceptively simple grasp, it began to rapidly crystallize and freeze from the outside in. It transformed into countless fine ice crystals that glittered with an ominous green light. They rained down, but before even touching the ground, they dissipated completely, as if they had never existed at all.

The Plane Passage itself groaned as if under an unimaginable pressure. It began to tremble violently and twist, collapsing inward and closing at a visible rate!

The light at the rift’s edge dimmed rapidly, and the view of the milky-white sea of clouds beyond grew hazy and indistinct.

"NO—!"

"Tomb Guardian of the Far North! How dare you—!"

From deep within the rift came Calvin’s shriek, a sound of both fury and panic, tinged with an imperceptible trace of fear. His voice rapidly grew distant and faint, as if he were being dragged back into a bottomless abyss.

On the altar, Pope Ete I and the surrounding Cardinals showed little surprise as they watched this unfold.

In the span of just a few breaths, the largest rift had shrunk to less than a third of its original size.

The Great Shepherd Leader’s figure slowly drifted down from the sky, finally stopping to hover in mid-air a short distance from the altar, facing Ete I.

His deep gray robe fluttered gently in the wind as his strange eyes gazed calmly at the new, crowned Pope:

"Holy Throne Ete I, I have come in accordance with our ancient pact."

Ete I nodded slightly. "Thank you for intervening personally to resolve this crisis in time, Great Shepherd Leader. The pact will be honored."

Upon hearing this, the Great Shepherd Leader’s gaze passed over Ete I and fell upon the Morning Star Bell behind him.

"There is no need for thanks, Holy Throne," the Great Shepherd Leader said slowly, his voice growing distant. "Three hundred years of watching and waiting... To hear the Holy Bell ring again today... This long life has finally been worth it."

However, the very instant the Great Shepherd Leader’s voice faded.

From deep within the largest Plane Rift, which had been suppressed to a mere sliver and was on the verge of closing completely, a flash of pure, intense blue light brazenly burst forth!

A terrifying power exploded violently from within, and the Plane Rift instantly swelled to become larger than ever before!

A high-pitched, piercing voice filled with crazed laughter boomed in everyone’s mind, like ten thousand bolts of Thunder striking at once:

"Hahaha! Closing it? Did you ask permission from Raphael, the ’Annihilating Thunder Light’?! Noe VII couldn’t stop us, and this Tomb Guardian of the Far North thinks he can close it? Dream on! The Holy Bell rang, did it? All that talk about a long life? Perfect! Allow my Judgment Thunder Prison to add some unforgettable ’brilliance’ to your coronation!"

Before his voice had faded, the violent blue light had already transformed into innumerable, terrifying bolts of lightning, each as thick as a barrel and filled with an aura of destruction, pouring out from the blasted-open rift!

Wherever these bolts of lightning passed, the air ionized with the pungent smell of ozone. The lingering light of Divine Magic, the rubble from the buildings—everything was instantly vaporized by that pure, destructive Energy!