Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

The major silently slipped the envelope into his uniform, then muttered impatiently, "Is that all?"

Brandt offered a sheepish smile. "My lord, please understand. Business has been poor lately. Besides, during the last trading incident in Ironblood City, some of our goods were seized by the Kent Kingdom's—"

"Hm?!"

Before he could finish, the major shot him a cold glare.

Brandt immediately changed his tone. "Ah—what I meant to say was, that robbery incident was purely due to an oversight in our internal Church monitoring. It had absolutely nothing to do with the Kent Kingdom. My lord, here, take a look—this is Redblood Crystal, a specialty of the Plantagenet Kingdom. Wouldn't it make a fine gift for your wife?"

As he spoke, Brandt removed the necklace from around his neck and stuffed it into the major's hand.

Alan, watching from the side, noticed something off about Brandt's expression. It seemed he was pained to part with that necklace. Clearly, dealing with this major was never supposed to require more than the envelope. The gemstone was a last resort—an attempt to de-escalate things quietly.

The major accepted the necklace without a word, tucking it away as he had with the envelope. Unlike Brandt, his expression was now one of smug satisfaction.

He stepped forward and patted Brandt's shoulder. "It's good to know your place. Since you realize it was your side's fault, be sure to improve oversight going forward. Next time something goes missing, don't go dumping the blame on the Kent Kingdom. Understand?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Brandt nodded quickly. "Understood."

With the major finally gone, the magic-powered train rolled safely into Kent Kingdom's platform.

Just before parting, Brandt pulled Alan aside and whispered a warning. "Mr. Alan, based on the latest intel from Church informants, the bounty issued by Lioncrest Academy on you and your team has increased again. It's now at a terrifying level. As a result, many of the mages who've come to Kent to explore the micro-world are actually targeting you—not the ruins. Please be extremely cautious."

Alan gave a polite nod. "Thank you, conductor. If the opportunity arises, I will surely repay the Church for this kindness."

Brandt looked at him with growing urgency. Alan clearly wasn't taking his words seriously.

"Mr. Alan, I'm not joking. They say there are bounty hunters here whose rewards reach tens of millions. These people aren't in it for relics—they're killers."

Alan replied with a calm smile. "And I'm not joking either. I've already met people like that—and as you can see, I'm still standing here, safe and sound. Doesn't that prove they couldn't do a thing to me?"

"Uh…"

Brandt was momentarily speechless, unsure of what to say.

Alan didn't waste another word. He turned and led Francis and the others off the magic train.

Once they had gone some distance, Daniel appeared behind Brandt, letting out a quiet sigh. "They say a newborn calf fears no tiger, but that boy—he's no calf. He's something far more terrifying than a tiger."

Brandt looked uneasy and asked, "Archbishop, Lioncrest Academy has mobilized quite a few forces this time, including some groups openly hostile to the Church. Is it really safe for us to so publicly side with Alan like this?"

Hearing that, Daniel's lips curled upward. He turned to Brandt and said, "Safe? Brandt, you're still too young. That's exactly why you've remained a conductor and never been promoted."

Brandt scratched his head awkwardly. Though he was middle-aged, every conversation with Daniel made him feel like an ignorant child.

Daniel looked back in the direction Alan had left.

"Remember this—the Church was never built on caution. Without taking risks, we'd have remained mediocre forever. Besides, Alan is worth the gamble. Back in Ironblood City, a bishop managing the trading post offended him badly. The Church's image in his eyes is already at rock bottom. If we don't step up now, repairing our relationship later will be nearly impossible."

Brandt nodded with a vague understanding, then hesitated. "There's still one thing I don't get. Alan's talent is remarkable, sure, but at best he's just a standout among young elites. He's not even close to the legendary Rose Duke. Are you really sure helping him will lead to any returns?"

Daniel paused for a moment before answering. "I've never considered return on investment. In truth, I'm not helping him just because of his talent."

"Oh? Then why?"

Daniel thought back to earlier encounters. His heart beat faster—not from fear, but from excitement.

"Because that boy has someone backing him—someone powerful. The King Magus."

"What? The King Magus?!"

Brandt nearly stumbled, grabbing onto the railing for support. He looked at Daniel, eyes wide with disbelief. "Archbishop, surely you're joking."

"No one in Charlie, Barton, or even the whole of the Kener Continent has ever broken through to the King Magus level. If Alan really has a King Magus behind him, then Lioncrest Academy's actions…"

Daniel sneered and finished the thought for him.

"That bunch of fools are walking straight into their graves."

By dusk, the council chamber of Kent Kingdom was in uproar. Ministers argued fiercely over the kingdom's future direction, their raised voices echoing throughout the hall.

Just then, a woman entered the room, clad in a robe of interwoven crimson and black, her shoulders squared by the cut of military-style formalwear.

The moment she appeared, the ministers fell silent. Each of them shrank into their seats, none daring to meet her gaze.

The woman swept a lock of gray hair behind her ear, then sat in the central chair. Her voice was quiet, yet cold as winter's edge.

"Feel free to shout louder—perhaps even grab a megaphone and read out our next year's policies to the other nations?"

Sweat began to bead on the ministers' foreheads. Even without making eye contact, her mere voice was enough to make them nervous.

Just then, an elderly man in plain robes, wearing old reading glasses, slowly stood up. He looked earnestly toward the woman at the head of the room.

"Lizzie, the kingdom has only recently transitioned from monarchy to parliamentary governance. It's natural for ministers to have differing views. Debate is inevitable…"

"Silence!"

The woman—Lizzie—slammed her palm on the table and stood, eyes boring into the old man.

"How many times have I said it? When we're in public, address me as 'Your Grace the Duke.' Don't think you can do as you please just because you're my father!"

The old man sighed and lowered his head, saying nothing more.

Lizzie was his daughter, and the newly appointed Duke of the Alexandria family. More recently, she had become the Speaker of the Upper House of Kent Kingdom's Parliament.

It made perfect sense, really. She had been one of the primary advocates for transforming the kingdom from a monarchy to a parliamentary system.

Now, with the royal family in decline, governance had passed to a bicameral legislature composed of nobles and commoners alike. The political structure of the entire kingdom had changed in the blink of an eye.

But this monumental reform hadn't just reshaped the nation. It had reshaped Lizzie as well.

She was no longer the gentle noblewoman of years past.

She had become something far colder—far more ruthless.