Chapter 242: Sacred Artifact

When the pickup truck came to a stop, Li Mochen did not open the door to get out but instead listened intently: “Can you elaborate? I know you followers of Artemis have been fighting the Dragon Witch Cult for years.”

“It should be a Calamity Flame Apostle.”

Dainn Stacy said in a speculative tone: “Over the long years, the Calamity Flame Dragon Lady created seven Calamity Flame Apostles with legendary-level power. They possess a near-phoenix-like ability to be reborn from flames; as long as the Calamity Flame burns within their bodies, they can rely on this special fire to restore themselves. This ‘Madblood’ Aonzo was probably possessed by, or even had his body taken over by, a Calamity Flame Apostle. If that’s the case, we must be extremely careful in this operation—those are seven legendary-level beings. But I agree with Sampson Brutus’s judgment: if all seven apostles were fully revived, they could easily wipe out the forces the BOSS has on hand. And if Aonzo’s overall strength reached legendary, you wouldn’t have had a chance to hit him.”

She had already bent down to open the iron case at her feet, and then layers of metal components flipped upward, covering Dainn Stacy’s body. In just two seconds, a set of beautifully designed, sci-fi-looking battle armor encased her.

Li Mochen recognized it as a high-tech battle armor produced by ‘Light Magic Industries,’ model ‘Holy War of Grace,’ a magical battle armor crafted specifically for temple warriors, with an equipment rating as high as 18S, worth tens of millions of gold shields.

But this probably wasn’t the item the American United Air Cargo Group had refused to ship. As long as the ‘Holy War of Grace’ was purchased through legitimate channels, no air freight company would have reason to refuse it.

Following that, Dainn took out a sword and a shield from the iron case. The shield was also a product of ‘Light Magic Industries,’ named ‘Guardian of Grace,’ forming a set with the ‘Holy War of Grace.’

Only the sword had an ancient, unadorned look—just an ordinary iron sword with no extra decoration. But Li Mochen could already sense an exceptionally pure and dense concentration of magical energy within the blade.

“Is this a sacred artifact?”

“The Sacred Sword Timothy!”

Dainn smiled proudly: “It has slain three adult dragons and five young dragons so far, earning the hatred and curse of the dragon race. Any aircraft carrying it has a 25% accident rate. It’s mostly a matter of luck—if you don’t run into a dragon, nothing happens.”

Li Mochen was speechless, thinking that this woman was also a tycoon. This set of equipment alone would cost no less than two to three hundred million gold shields. Come to think of it, the magical jewelry Dainn wore was also no ordinary item.

In that case, the annual salary of 4.5 million gold shields he offered Dainn was a huge bargain. With such a powerful set of equipment, Dainn Stacy’s strength was far more than just level 17.

He kept a straight face, pretending to be unruffled as he pushed open the door and got out. Then he saw, not far away, Sampson Brutus and a black-haired youth with a cold demeanor discussing something over several blueprints beside a wooden crate.

Li Mochen thought the black-haired youth must be Thompson Adams. When he and Dainn approached, the two men in discussion both brightened slightly, staring at Dainn’s luxurious gear.

“Discussing again? Revising the operation plan?”

Li Mochen carefully examined the several drawings laid out on the crate, and soon noticed they were different from the ones he had seen before.

“These are the structural drawings of the refinery brought by Miss Targaryen, including part of the underground section.”

Sampson Brutus explained: “They’re said to be from our Rising Sun Company’s information director. This intelligence is very timely. Except for the most core underground part of the refinery, the periphery is drawn in great detail, even including their sentry positions and defensive works.”

Li Mochen took a closer look and found it was indeed so. Then he turned a questioning gaze to Eliza Targaryen, who was not far away. The latter nodded: “It’s from Jeremy Burt. He couldn’t reach you, so he asked me to pass on these drawings.”

Thompson Adams smiled wryly: “This looks like an underground castle.”

Dainn also picked up a drawing and flipped through it: “I’d say this drawing is worth at least two million gold shields. It can reduce our casualties by more than twenty people and increase our chances of success by 10%. It seems our BOSS has a very good intelligence officer. I heard you mention ‘blasting’ earlier—using 120 explosive magic crystals and a large amount of C4 explosives? Such a commotion would be unbearable for the big shots in Atlanta. Speaking of which, I was just wondering: are we just going to storm in directly? At least we should find a way to temporarily shift this refinery and its underground part out of this world.”

“Actually, we were saying that the 120 explosive magic crystals we prepared earlier might not be enough; we need to buy more from Laurel Street nearby.”

Sampson chuckled: “No need to worry about the commotion. According to the BOSS, the Atlanta Magic Tower Management Committee has granted us temporary authorization.”

“I’ve already asked Assistant Bishop Isolt Linden to apply for the domain segmentation authority of the magic tower array in eighteen to seventeen minutes.”

Li Mochen glanced at a pocket watch in his hand: “We now have only ten minutes to revise the operation plan. We must reach our designated positions within the next seven minutes.”

…

When Li Mochen and the others arrived near the Gerald Refinery, deep underground in the refinery, Cressy Jakes was striding into a vast subterranean space.

Here, a large number of intricate and eerie magical runes covered the floor and ceiling. In the center was a huge pool shaped like a pentagram. The pool was currently empty, but a thick mist of blood churned up from below. At the center of the pentagram stood a platform and an inverted cross.

Four Dragon Witch Cult followers in white robes were binding Hazel Wiltonstein to the inverted cross. Then, using hammers and sharp long nails, they forcibly drove nails through the girl’s tender wrists and ankles, fixing her body firmly to the wooden frame.

This made Hazel’s face pale, with fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead, but the girl made no sound from start to finish. She clenched her teeth, her beautiful, clear eyes glaring angrily, staring silently at the people across from her.

“What a cruel scene.”

Professor Kevin Neal gazed with fascination at the blood flowing from the girl’s hands and feet: “But this girl’s will is exceptionally strong. I bet her blood will be very delicious.”

Cressy Jakes frowned slightly at that, turning to look at Kevin Neal: “Professor Neal, I advise you not to get any wrong ideas. She is not someone you can touch.”