Chapter 241: The Divine Guardians of Strasbourg

Sophia Gallanord held the Lion’s Fang in her hand but still couldn’t help asking, “Senior, did you really defeat him?”

Charlot Mecklenburg shrugged and replied, “I am a few years older than him, after all.”

Sophia Gallanord inwardly muttered to herself, “I’ve met plenty of older Transcendents, but few are stronger than me.”

That Charlot knew Julian Arsilo wasn’t surprising. As an envoy, he had been to the Ingrima Empire. In the minds of Sophia Gallanord and the other junior students, they only assumed Charlot had encountered Julian in Britain.

Of course, that was true.

But for Charlot to have faced Count Lamorak under the witness of Emperor Alfred Guillaume and defeated him—this honor was indescribable.

Even though he was a few years older, it did not diminish the feat.

The group of junior students’ gazes quickly filled with admiration, including even the Rose of Strasbourg, Miss Sophia Gallanord.

Charlot organized accommodations for the group of students from Sheffield University. Fortunately, hiding a dozen humans among several hundred orc warriors wasn’t difficult. For a moment, Charlot wasn’t sure what else to do.

But he didn’t have to worry for long.

Out of concern for being discovered, Charlot frequently changed camp locations. On this particular morning, just as they were preparing to move, he noticed the sky had turned a murky gray. Acting decisively, he commanded his subordinates to head for a nearby hill.

Once atop the hill, Charlot looked out and saw that the skies over Strasbourg were filled with howling winds and rolling dust clouds. The scale was far greater—ten times more dramatic—than the previous time at Silver Dove Castle.

More than ten orc Saint-rank shamans floated high above, combining their powers to stir up a storm of dust, aiming to bury Strasbourg beneath it.

Charlot’s heart tightened. His city was home to his loved ones and friends. But as a mid-level Transcendent, he could do little.

The group of students from Gorgias University, including Sophia Gallanord, grew equally worried. They knew, however, that Strasbourg was not so easily overcome.

Charlot grew increasingly anxious, tempted several times to charge down into the fray. But even if he did, what could he accomplish? Kill a Saint? Even anti-magic armor-piercing rounds couldn’t necessarily harm a Saint. He lacked any means to injure one—unless he summoned an evil god...

As Charlot seriously considered the consequences of summoning two foreign gods of chaos, a painting flew up from Strasbourg into the sky.

Charlot instantly recognized the painting. As it transformed into an endless corridor, countless crimson-skinned creatures wielding massive spiked hammers—resembling flayed monsters—began roaming through the corridors.

The raging winds and dust storm vanished the moment they entered the corridor.

Charlot exclaimed in surprise, “It’s that painting!”

He remembered it well—not just because he had once used it to summon the Labyrinth God Agmirlas, but because its emergence had deepened his relationship with Annie Bretagne.

To this day, Charlot had no idea why Yanmills purchased a painting depicting a foreign god of chaos. Yanmills was now dead, and there was no way to find out.

Charlot did, however, know who currently possessed the painting: the widowed Princess of Fars Empire, the second daughter of Emperor Julius Axel VI.

This princess was a taboo topic within the empire. Even High Priest Auguslatin referred to her only as “that lady,” never daring to utter her title or name.

Charlot knew nothing about her but was familiar with another widowed princess: Princess May Guillaume of Ingrima.

Well, not exactly “familiar.” Their acquaintance hadn’t yet reached the level of exchanging gold écus.

As Charlot gazed at the painting, he felt a small sense of relief. But only hours later, he heard a loud noise from the sky. The endless corridor collapsed layer by layer, and the crimson-skinned creatures with their massive spiked hammers let out wretched screams before disintegrating into ash.

The painting depicting the foreign god of chaos reappeared briefly before shattering into countless pieces, utterly destroyed.

The combined might of the ten orc Saint-rank shamans was too much for even this artifact of chaos.

Charlot’s heart clenched again, but before he could spiral into worry, a radiant light emerged from the heavens. A grand, square structure ascended, its four gates open in four directions, exuding an overwhelming aura.

It was the Gate of Radiance on Elysée Avenue.

As soon as the Gate of Radiance rose, several other buildings followed, forming a shimmering protective barrier that enveloped Strasbourg entirely.

The orc Saint-rank shamans, mustering their full strength to unleash a cataclysmic windstorm, churned up so much dust that the skies darkened across the region. But Strasbourg, shielded by the divine power of the Twelve Gods, stood unshaken.

Only then did Charlot breathe a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, he felt the diary in his arms tremble slightly. When he took it out to look, the page for Agmirlas’ Labyrinth began to expand, as though “reprinting.” The diary, originally 15 pages, swiftly grew to over 30. A thought entered his mind: Charlot Mecklenburg has inherited the legacy of the Labyrinth God Agmirlas. Upon mastering more than fifteen labyrinths, he will gain access to the true labyrinth of Agmirlas.

Charlot’s eyes widened. He knew foreign gods of chaos were deceitful, but he hadn’t expected this level of malice.

The diary’s original warning stated that if the owner failed to master fifteen labyrinths within a set time, they would lose their identity as the owner and have their soul consumed by the diary.

It had not mentioned that mastering more than fifteen labyrinths would result in being sent to Agmirlas’ true labyrinth!

In other words, failing to master fifteen would summon Agmirlas to devour him, while exceeding fifteen would feed him directly to the god. Either way, death was certain.

What was he supposed to do?

Charlot pondered for a long while before concluding, “In the Old Continent, Agmirlas holds no influence, and few are familiar with this god. I couldn’t even find relevant texts at Sheffield University. High Priest Auguslatin mentioned that many cities in the New Continent have adopted labyrinth structures, which might include methods to resist Agmirlas. To solve this issue, I’ll likely need to make a trip to the New Continent.”

“Only the New Continent holds the solution to dealing with Agmirlas.”

“For now, I’ll address the present and think about the future later.”

With that thought, Charlot tucked the diary away and gazed into the sky.

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