Roel and Charlotte’s relationship had advanced significantly ever since they left Rosa City half a month ago, but their physical conditions had deteriorated correspondingly.

  Initially, Charlotte was still able to take care of the ill Roel, but her health soon regressed to its previous state, causing her narcolepsy to return. Out of safety concerns, Grace and the other maids became the ones taking care of them instead.

  The maids couldn’t help but be worried about how their conditions were deteriorating with each passing day, but Roel and Charlotte were already prepared for this. If anything, they thought that this was a good sign.

  In the bedroom, Roel and Charlotte had just woken up from their afternoon nap. They cuddled up to each other and enquired about each other’s condition.

  Charlotte laid on Roel’s chest and listened to his heartbeat while Roel stroked her back to placate her fears. They knew that the day of the final showdown was swiftly approaching.

  The curse had become more active over the last few days. The frequency of attacks increased even though the severity remained the same. This suggested that something was changing, such as their distance.

  “It’s coming closer to us.”


  “… When do you think it’ll make a move? Within the next few days?”


  “That should be so,” Roel replied with narrowed eyes.

  Hearing his answer, Charlotte tightened her arms around him. Unease could be seen reflected in her eyes. Roel noticed her response, but she spoke up before he could ask about it.

  “Darling… I’m afraid.”


  “Afraid?”


  “I know that things are going according to plan, but I can’t help but feel that everything is going too smoothly.”


  “Too smoothly? … Yes, you’re right”


  Roel nodded in agreement as he contemplatively gazed out of the window. Charlotte continued hugging him, keeping her silence so as to not disturb his train of thoughts.

  It was usually good news that things were going according to plan… but sometimes, that could also be a cause for alarm.

  While the Six Calamities possessed varying levels of intelligence, all of them possessed sharp instincts that alerted them to potential danger. That was also the reason they were so afraid of Roel.

  That could be seen from his encounter with Shrouding Fog at the eastern border. He was only at Origin Level 4 back then, not even a high transcendent yet, but his presence intimidated Shrouding Fog into stopping its rampage and backing off.

  Thanks to that, the tens of thousands of soldiers stationed at the outer perimeter of Tark Stronghold survived the ordeal. They later became the core troops that guarded Tark Stronghold during the main force’s absence.

  Considering how Shrouding Fog had been hesitant to confront Roel back when he was much weaker, the actions taken by the culprit behind Charlotte’s curse were oddly bold. Furthermore, the calamity they were after had only regained consciousness not too long ago. It was nowhere as strong as Shrouding Fog, who had devoured a fortress of over a hundred thousand people.

  These were compelling reasons for the calamity not to appear.

  Is it unable to turn its back on the opportunity to eliminate both the successors of the High Elf Bloodline and the Kingmaker Bloodline? Or does the ancient monster we are dealing with possess special means against us?

  Roel frowned in unease.

  Charlotte felt awful for stoking his fears at a time like this, so she quickly put on a smile and consoled him.

  “Darling, I’m just making a blind guess. You shouldn’t let it bother you too much.”


  “I know, but you’re the successor of the High Elf Bloodline and a worshiper of the Goddess of Fate. It might just be a blind guess, but it stems from your unease, right? Your intuition is telling you that something is amiss,” asked Roel.

  Charlotte hesitantly nodded her head.

  “It looks like it’s going to be a tough battle,” Roel sighed.

  “Should we pause our plans and report this matter to the upper echelons of the united army? Principal Antonio and the others will be more than willing to lend us a helping hand.”


  “That won’t do. There’s a high chance that the Fallens will learn about it if we report this matter upward. Furthermore, it’s too difficult to conceal the aura of an Origin Level 1 Race Sovereign. The monster will likely back away if it senses Antonio’s presence,” replied Roel.

  Charlotte lowered her head worriedly upon realizing that her suggestion was infeasible. Roel calmly stroked her hair to soothe her.

  It was not as if Roel hadn’t considered alternatives to minimize the risks on their end, but nothing seemed feasible against the cunning ancient monster they were up against. It might be possible to devise something more elaborate if they took things slow, but time was against them here. The longer things dragged out, the more vulnerable they would be.

  Not to mention, the enemy was also swiftly growing stronger as well.

  Sometimes, Roel wondered if their situation was an inevitable outcome of fate.

  Perhaps, from the moment they obtained the Crown Origin Attribute and the Primordial High Elf Bloodline, they were already destined to become mortal enemies with the Six Calamities. This was the price fate had imposed on their powers.

  “Don’t worry, I have already made preparations for that. Besides, I don’t think that I can back down now,” said Roel.

  “You can’t?”


  “Yeah, my feelings wouldn’t allow me too… My anger has been churning for far too long.”


  Roel looked at the woman in his arms, and her pale, sickly face weighed down his heart. He leaned in and kissed her forehead.

  “It’s about time for me to settle the scores with it for causing you so much suffering.”


  Roel looked out of the window as rage blazed in his golden eyes like brilliant candlelight.

  …


  Those traveling with the Diamond Rivière knew that they might come under the attack of an ancient monster on this journey, so they maintained a high level of vigilance toward their surroundings, possibly even to a neurotic level.

  They refused to travel through mountainous terrains as it would be harder for them to get into formation, insisting on going with a much longer detour instead. They also made sure to stop at an easily defensible location before evening to set up their tents to ensure that they would be well-prepared for the night.

  That resulted in their slow travel progress.

  Nevertheless, within a month’s time, Roel and Charlotte had already strayed away from populous human settlements to remote areas filled with dungeons and ancient ruins that only risk-seeking adventurers would venture into.

  Golash’s Basin was the name of the region, though it was more commonly known as Death’s Trove.

  It was located on unclaimed land outside Rosa’s borders. The multitude of dungeons and ancient ruins in the vicinity had given rise to a high level of mana concentration that made the land infertile. Due to that, no country was interested in this region.

  In contrast, Golash’s Basin was a miraculous land of possibilities to the ambitious. Whether it was to become rich or obtain great power, the ancient ruins here contained incredible treasures that could fulfill their wildest dreams.

  As a matter of fact, many renowned adventurers who had left their mark in history had links to Golash’s Basin. Bards often sang of the grand adventures they had at this place. But those who were seduced here by the romance of a fruitful adventure would quickly realize the darker side of the picture, evident from the skeletons lying all around the place.

  The threat wasn’t just limited to the dungeons and ancient ruins but from their fellow peers too.

  Fortunately, the imposing procession of the Diamond Rivière had deterred adventurers from carelessly approaching them, thus saving them a fair bit of trouble. Everything appeared to be peaceful up to this point, but it was only the calm before the storm.

  The very night after they entered Golash’s Basin, the sentries were about to do a handover when they suddenly felt inexplicable crushing pressure from the distance. It felt as if something was squeezing their hearts, suffocating them.

  Not dissimilar to how wild animals instinctively understood the danger of natural calamities, humans naturally felt dread when in the presence of the Six Calamities, the destroyers of countless civilizations. This feeling was further amplified for transcendents.

  “Red alert! Red alert!”


  “Is it here?”


  The Rosaian elites immediately reacted to the ominous presence that induced goosebumps all over their bodies. The warriors drew their weapons. The magicians shot spells into the sky to provide illumination. Communication tools were invoked to contact Andrew and the others for reinforcements.

  Just like that, the peaceful night was shattered by shouts, the clanging of equipment, and the invocation of spells.

  In the carriage, Roel looked out of the window to stare at the distant horizon.

  Prior to this, he had been unable to confirm the identity of the ancient monster who had cast the curse on Charlotte, but the despairing death aura that was now settling in from the horizon told him the true nature of his enemy.

  Flooding Death.

  That was the Six Calamities responsible for Bruce and Charlotte’s curse. Its name had appeared numerous times in historical records, but any attempts to describe it were vague at best, making it one of the more enigmatic calamities.

  Flooding Death was said to be a monster that lurked in the tides of death, patiently biding its time to drag the living into death’s embrace. Not a single person had survived its assault, so there weren’t any useful records on it.

  It was known to manifest in different forms; it could be fluid in a flooding tide or gaseous in a drifting black cloud. Places it touched would turn into lands of death for many years to come. Any beings that stepped into these lands would find themselves slowly withering away.

  That was all Roel knew about this ancient monster from the historical records.

  However, now that he was seeing the Flooding Death in person, he was able to gain a deeper understanding of its existence.

  The moving pitch-black tide was the manifestation of the very concept of death, though it might be simpler to perceive it as a sentient curse of death. Different individuals coming into contact with it experienced different reactions and symptoms, but the final outcome remained the same—death.

  The pitch-black clouds in the sky swiftly expanded, heralding the approach of the ancient monster. The stars in the sky lost their luster. Trepidation spread in the hearts of those standing in its presence. Even Grace, who had remained composed all this while, started to turn pale.

  The Rosaian elites had been able to stand steadfast on the battlefield no matter how disadvantaged they were because they believed that there was hope for victory, but against the Mother Goddess’ Six Calamities, all these veterans felt was helplessness.

  It was only human to cower in the face of nature’s might. Rather than an act of cowardice, this was an inevitable result caused by the difference in their level of existence. That was also why the Six Calamities were so terrifying.

  Heavy silence loomed over the camp.

  The guards stared at the sky in utter despair. They couldn’t fathom how they could even oppose a force of such sheer scale. In this moment of absolute darkness, a familiar pulse of mana suddenly glowed like a lantern of hope.

  The familiar mana brushed across everyone like a warm breeze, soothing their unease. It returned clarity to the eyes of the magicians and brought courage to the hearts of the knights. The immense weight crushing their hearts vanished, replaced by a lingering warmth.

  The guards naturally turned their gazes toward the center of their formation, where a black-haired man stood fearlessly. He glared at the pitch-black sky with glowing golden eyes filled with sharp killing intent.