Chapter Title: Dark Heaven Village

When I crossed the national border and arrived at the inland not far from the Great British Empire, I spotted a procession of people wearing strange masks. They weren't really masks—more like crude leather contraptions fitted with breathing tubes like bellows. They even had long, beak-like noses protruding sharply, making them look like crows.

Black clothes.

I felt an unusual curiosity toward them, so I summoned a spirit of exceptional talent from the vicinity using the Heavenly Spirit Scripture's incantation and asked about their identity.

[Those people are doctors treating the Black Death.]

The spirit, who confidently introduced himself as the inventor of the tercio formation, bore the bizarre foreign name Gonzalo de Córdoba. He was a famous Western general. Having died in battle in this region, he seemed to have passed recently.

"Black Death?"

[A terrifying plague once ravaged this continent. It had been spreading since I was a child.]

"Is the Black Death still afflicting this continent?"

"Those people cured the Black Death?"

[That's the common belief. But they're mysterious folk, so no one knows exactly how they heal patients. Even now, after a century, they're wandering the continent, seeking out the plague's remnants.]

"Hmm..."

Gonzalo's words piqued my interest. Noting that he had died recently, I asked,

"Gonzalo. What's the current state of affairs on this continent? And tell me about this Great British Empire."

[Hmm... It might differ from what I knew, but will that do?]

He hesitated before continuing.

[At present, the continent is divided into two powers. The Great British Empire and the Holy Roman Empire vie for hegemony, while the other ten nations watch their every move. The Great British Empire is small but boasts superior technology, while the Holy Roman Empire, under Charles V, commands vast territories.]

"Charles V?"

[The emperor of the Holy Roman Empire.]

"So he's the greatest power in the West."

In other words, these two empires dominated the Western world. I glanced at a world map but found it puzzling, so I asked Gonzalo,

"Even calling it the Great British Empire, isn't it just a tiny island nation? It's barely the size of one province in the Central Plains—how does it claim to be an empire beyond a mere kingdom?"

[It seems the Great British Empire never reached your Eastern lands.]

Gonzalo replied,

[The empire's own territory is small, but it's colonizing the world with its immense naval power and technology. It extracts vast wealth and resources from overseas petty states and barbarians, allowing it to dominate the continent's economy and politics. Its military might is formidable as well, hence the title of empire.]

"Colonies..."

That word reminded me of the southern continent. Come to think of it, the ones massacring natives there were Great British troops and sailors. If their fleets—dozens strong—spread out for conquest, their effective territory would indeed expand enormously. I pressed Gonzalo further.

"Gonzalo. How advanced are firearms on this continent now?"

[How much do you know about guns?]

I answered his counterquestion with what I knew. Gonzalo chuckled.

[Flintlocks and matchlocks are outdated. Unlike those primitive muskets, here the flint sparks the primer in the breech for ignition. The firing delay is minimal, and reload time is probably half or less.]

"......"

I grasped the technological gap.

'The Great British Empire has the world's top firearms tech! Followed by the Western powers.'

To compare, the empire led by decades, with the continental powers in pursuit. That cutting-edge tech was being imported to southern Ayutthaya, while the Ming Empire in the Central Plains had basic knowledge but couldn't train proper musketeers.

The empire's supremacy came from breech-loading guns with cartridges, as Mangliang had explained—the difference between cartridge and non-cartridge guns was night and day. Thus, it held the pinnacle of current technology.

After gleaning the basics from Gonzalo, I sent him back and hurried onward. I was curious about the Black Death doctors, but their plague connection unnerved me.

Roaring waves—

With my abundant internal energy, crossing the sea on Water Stride posed no issue. Geographically, this was near Le Havre—not too far. The problem was the Great British Empire, a den of demons with formidable naval power. Rash entry might spark a massive battle.

Approaching via official ports was tricky too. A black-haired, black-eyed Easterner stood out glaringly here. Plus, the empire limited continental exchanges to a needle's eye.

After much deliberation, I opted for frontal assault. Illusions or stealth spells for back routes were too cumbersome. No one would expect a man crossing bare-bodied via Water Stride—it might even work in my favor.

Thudding steps.

I dashed toward the horizon on Water Stride. This advanced lightness skill consumed far more energy than standard; after fifty li, cramps hit my legs. My body's limits surfaced quickly, draining energy rapidly. I deep-breathed, surging internal energy to burst latent power, recovering enough to continue.

Splash.

Blue waves skimmed beneath my feet, growing familiar.

Around four hundred li? My breath grew ragged, sweat streaming down my forehead.

'As expected... Far tougher than plains running.'

Land unseen, but at this rate, I'd collapse into the sea. Scanning for rest spots yielded nothing in the vast ocean—no reefs even. I steeled myself.

"Uwaaah!!"

Screaming, I willed all energy into stamina conversion. Bent on circumnavigating this sea before exhaustion, I pushed on. Water Stride grew erratic, ankles plunging in with splashes.

Five hundred li...

Six hundred li!!

"Land!!"

Spotting dark earth, I yelled in joy. Ships and settlements nearby, but rest was in sight. Pouring final strength, I reached shore, collapsing onto solid ground.

Splat.

"Huff... Huff..."

Click.

Panting on the ground, I sensed a blade nearby. Glancing around, swarthy soldiers—about a dozen—leveled muskets and bayonets. Their commander-like figure shouted something.

"@#*&%!"

How'd they spot me?

Curious, I realized my final Water Stride had churned blue spray toward shore. Unavoidable detection. Regretting the blunder, I shook my head and muttered,

"So what. I made it. That's a win."

Whoosh.

Finishing, I unleashed Annihilation Step to flee swiftly. Exhausted, I'd preserved minimal energy from habit in dire straits. Soldiers panicked, firing wildly—no hits.

I easily broke their encirclement, bolting to deserted areas. Dodging them was simple, but this was demon territory. Falling to some freak meant certain doom.

'Rest there?'

My spot: a building etched with a cross. Quiet and empty, I slipped in via Annihilation Step, picking an vacant room to cool off and recover.

"Whew... Whew..."

Seated, restoring stamina, I thought,

'Well, damn. As suspected, no solo ocean crossing...'

Drained just from this distance via Water Stride—no ship meant no crossing oceans. My route was superhuman, but flesh had limits. Resting leisurely for about an incense stick's time, I invoked the Heavenly Spirit Scripture to summon a nearby spirit.

"......?"

Nothing.

No potent spirits around? Perplexed, a telepathic message came from outside.

[A esteemed guest has arrived. Come this way.]

I followed to a grand hall, source of the message. Beneath cross ornaments, a middle-aged man knelt praying. He fielded with round glass lenses on his face, sending telepathy.

[You've come from afar; our tongue won't do.]

A skilled sorcerer—telepathy was advanced magic.

Just in case, I thought back.

[Who are you?]

[I am this church's master. Mangliang the Monk contacted me beforehand.]

[What?!]

[He worried for your journey to the worst land. He bestowed faint protection to safeguard your path and guide you here.]

What was this out of nowhere?

Why mention Mangliang here?

And he adjusted my path?

Dumbfounded, I stared. He gestured to a table, offering a seat.

[His protection spans beyond the East. He is a cosmic being.]

[......]

[I know not your purpose, but finish and leave swiftly. This place is now a demonic realm.]

Composing myself, I replied,

[I know it's a demonic realm. I must reach the Viceroy's Residence underground.]

He startled.

[Heavens...!! Absolutely not. Abandon it.]

[I can fend for myself.]

[It's the Black Brotherhood's headquarters. You'll die.]

[Black Brotherhood?]

He nodded.

[Formed by demon sorcerers worshiping outer gods and fallen beings—a cult of death gods. Its boundaries with the human world blur.]

[......]

So the Viceroy's Residence was the death cult's main base. Thinking, I asked,

[I hear the West has a guardian like Mangliang protecting humanity. Where is he?]

Painfully, he answered,

[He... sealed himself in the holy site to guard the final bastion.]

[The holy site—Pallas?]

[You know. If lost, humanity becomes livestock. He sacrificed all.]

"Hmm..."

Graver than thought. Unlike the East, this Western continent could perish anytime. Tech advanced inversely to human rights and dignity, plummeting to rock bottom.

'Forcing to the Viceroy's Residence now... no.'

I could reach London, but traps or inescapable barriers likely awaited. Like shoving my head into a tiger's maw. Caught by Peng Zhao, infiltrating the empire was extreme difficulty.

After pondering, I asked,

[Your name?]

[Thomas More.]

[I shall return. Stay safe till then.]

Flash.

I teleported back to Hidden Dragon Valley via Dimensional Escape. I recounted events to Master Zhuge. He listened, then said,

"Well done. You judge retreats wisely."

"Master Zhuge. Pallas and Golden Crow—are they truly there?"

"Most likely."

Master Zhuge cackled.

"Great British Empire's Viceroy's Residence, Black Brotherhood headquarters... Breaching its demon sorcerers and high demons means claiming Golden Crow. Given the dense demonic energy, even human sorcerers will be no joke—"

"What now?"

"What else? We lack power and pretext to assault now."

He continued,

"Halt Western scouting. Perform the Heavenly Realm Offering Ritual once more."

"Ah."

I grasped his intent.

Summon Great Ra Immortal to call Peng Zhao.

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