Chapter 923: Chapter 529: Crown of Eternal Night, York’s Calamity Star (Part 2)

Whether it’s true or not, if necessary, what’s wrong with smearing the Protestant Doctrine to muddy the waters as a way to deal with this so‑called Savior?

At worst, just like the Remit Sect took out the Holy Son back then, we can just as openly and righteously take out the Holy Spirit.

Fifteen hundred years ago, when the creator was at the height of His power, He only split off one Holy Son; now the creator is constantly splitting apart—if the Remit People dared to do it back then, why the hell shouldn’t we?

This moment is exactly the same as that moment, that’s all."

Saint Simon, who had spoken first, felt his colleagues were going too far and hurriedly tried to persuade them:

"Your Excellency Saint John, we don’t actually need to use such extreme methods.

Isn’t Saint Byron supposed to be loyal and noble? Isn’t he the Great Loyalist of York?

Once he helps the White Rose win the Throne War, we’ll forcibly conscript him into the Night Watch we control and have him fight those Bizarre things and Evil Spirits to the death every single day.

As the Source Tide grows worse, those things are getting more rampant too; it won’t take long before ’Saint Byron’ disappears from this world for good.

We just need to put up a statue for him, and we can reel all the Mind Wish Power on him back into our own hands.

Exactly like all these years, with all those idiots who fancy themselves righteous and hot‑blooded, those who might threaten our position—it’s always the same story!"

Obviously, anyone who plays politics has a filthy heart.

Out in the world you must be wary of this kind of person; they strain every nerve to teach you to "be good," but never teach you the most crucial "thunderbolt methods," and never support you in drawing your blade in blood, so they can then do whatever they please.

This bunch of Orthodox Church Saints are a textbook example.

However, while this plan was very nicely calculated in theory—

Once the Silver Law’s Law Network started humming and buzzing, and they all saw the contents of the emergency military report, every one of them caught their breath; their bodies jolted once, twice, thrice.

In the blink of an eye they collectively lost their composure.

"Aaahhh... heartless swindler!

Fake, it’s all fake, there is no Saint Byron, no Great Loyalist, aaahhh...

This swindler actually managed to fool every last one of us.

The Hightins reinforcements in our plan are gone!"

"The Puppet King really is a moron, getting played in circles by The Mad Hunt and The Sea Hunter—he thought they were mortal enemies, when in fact they’re the same person.

Thirty percent of the cargo on the Treasure Fleet was tribute meant for us. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Gold and silver! Spices! Magic Potions! That was all our money!"

"We were planning to use Saint Byron’s hand to obtain the Panacea, to ascend to Mythical Creature–Angel without side effects, and now it’s all gone.

He drank the Panacea himself and has already become the first Fifth Order Demigod in the Old Continent; we can kiss our Crimson Holy Grail goodbye."

"Don’t forget, since Hightins has changed hands, with Bayfolk Saint Byron crowned king and holding both Royal Iron and ecclesiastical power, and having killed the Archbishop of Canterbury, he’s clearly planning to stab us viciously in the back."

A lone Mad Hunt, or a lone Sea Hunter, is nothing much.

But with the two identities stacked, with both Power and claims complete, the prophecies of the Bayfolk and the Church corroborate each other—doesn’t that basically confirm the Savior prophecy?

What Great Loyalist, what lonely last Lancaster—this is clearly an old fox who’s played every last one of them.

"The key issue is: what do we do now?"

After the rage, they still had to face the problem head‑on.

The others all turned to Saint John of the Holy Infant Society—who had acted as the mastermind behind the scenes in this whole series of events and had already completely fallen out with Byron.

The latter’s face went iron‑blue as he ground his teeth:

"Order Crown Prince of the Alliance Bearkin Ulysses of the Karma Alliance to crusade against Hightins!

In order to seize the Royal Iron of the Eternal Night Peninsula, that Bearkin is bound to hate the direct bloodline of the Pirate Emperor, the Blue Dragon King, even more than we do.

Let Bayfolk fight Bayfolk—two years, three years, ten years of bloodshed, slaughter, and hatred; they will never again rebuild the North Sea Great Empire of Bayfolk’s golden age!"

...

On the other side, Byron of course had no idea about the Saints’ schemes, and even if he knew, he wouldn’t care.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Two black shadows sliced beneath the clouds and vanished into the distance.

After Byron became a Pseudo-God, the abilities of the two Ravens, Hugin and Munin, had also increased dramatically, especially their stealth; aside from Sixth Order Demigods, there were probably very few who could detect their tracks anymore.

Through the eyes of the two Ravens, Byron could sit on his throne and still know everything under heaven.

At this moment, in his lofty bird’s‑eye view—

The purge on the Hightins Islands had not been disturbed by any outside force and was proceeding steadily, step by step.

Royal Capital Kingston, with a population of a full million—about fourteen percent of the country’s total—was the first to be cleaned out on the Night of Blood Mist, after which the three secret police forces rode hard and fast toward the rest of the Kingdom.

A group followed behind Bizarre - Man-Eating Sheep, reclaiming land while also helping Byron pick up the "Crown Fragments" lost by generations of his ancestors, re‑condensing the Royal Iron.

Not only the Land Nobility; even the Orthodox Church that stubbornly resisted fell within their clearing range.

Priests who occupied vast tracts of land, did no productive work, and enjoyed tax exemption had always been parasites on the body of the state.

Byron didn’t mind imitating the "Three Wu and One Zong" suppression of Buddhism either, and casually carrying out a little obliteration of the Church.

A twenty‑percent landholding rate is no less harmful than the Land Nobility.

If you marked out seized plots in red and state land in green on a national map, you’d see the red patches being replaced by green at a speed visible to the naked eye.