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

“Shut your mouth!”

“In front of His Highness, how dare you speak so presumptuously?!”

“Truly a hot-blooded youth—there’s not even a trace of the composure that a true subject of the NK Kingdom should possess! A man like you should be…”

“Silence!”

Just as the court ministers were stirred into a frenzy, angrily trying to shoot down the proposal of the young official, a calm yet commanding hand slowly rose from the Iron Throne.

It was Charles. Sitting high above the court, he raised his hand, and the room instantly fell quiet.

He curled his lips into a mocking smile, then said with disdain, “Look at you. All of you, old, feeble, stuck in tradition. Yes, it’s true—the ministers of NK Kingdom ought to strive for composure, to remain calm and measured no matter the challenge.”

“But!”

Charles slammed his hand against the armrest of the Iron Throne and stood up, his voice thundering through the palace.

“Others have already brought the fight to our doorstep! At a time like this, what use is there in preaching composure and caution? If she dares to plunge a sword into NK Kingdom’s land today, she will dare to drive it through each of your skulls tomorrow—including mine… and my father’s!”

“You’ve all been ministers for decades—has every drop of your blood and courage been fed to the dogs? Tell me, what exactly was wrong with what that young official said just now? We’ve been attacked. Many of our elite warriors died in that battle. If we respond by swallowing our pride and holding our tongues, wouldn’t that only make us an even bigger joke to the world?”

“There is no such word as ‘tolerance’ in the NK Kingdom’s dictionary! If others strike us, we strike back a hundredfold, a thousandfold! Otherwise, what right does Britannia have to call itself the empire where the sun never sets?!”

The palace fell into a heavy silence.

The ministers could hear nothing but the sound of each other’s labored breathing—and their own pounding heartbeats.

After a while, Charles’s rage began to subside. He returned to his seat atop the Iron Throne and gave a faint nod to the young official, signaling him to begin drafting the plan for a retaliatory strike.

The ministers, seeing that the decision had been made, abandoned any thoughts of persuasion and begrudgingly accepted the direction the situation had taken.

But just then, something strange happened.

A bizarre black mist suddenly began to billow through the palace, spreading silently and unnoticed.

It came without a sound, without disturbing a single soul at first.

But the moment the black fog revealed its presence, every person in the room nearly leapt from their skin in terror.

Black mist—that was the signature ability of a dark mage.

And to appear here, undetected by so many powerful individuals, meant the one behind this mist had to be at least of Legendary level power… or higher.

In fact, there was only one person in the entire world capable of such a feat.

The head of the dark mage fellowship—the one known across the lands as the Forbidden King.

Charles stared coldly and wordlessly at the swirling mist overhead. After a long pause, he gave a short laugh and said, “Since you’re here, why not say hello? Do all you dark mages make a habit of arriving uninvited?”

From within the fog came a strange humming noise, like the buzzing of insects, low and unsettling.

A strange voice followed—not quite male, not quite female, like someone speaking through a veil of cloth.

“I’m not here for small talk. We suffered heavy losses too in the assault on the Plantagenet Kingdom. I want revenge. What about you?”

Charles glanced sideways at the young official who was furiously writing out the battle plans.

With a faint smirk, he responded, “In that case, why don’t we join forces officially this time? Last time, your people trailed behind our units, didn’t they? Hoping to launch a surprise attack at a crucial moment.”

“But your target wasn’t necessarily Alan, was it?”

The fog fell silent.

Indeed, during the last confrontation, the dark mages had held back with the intent to strike both sides when the time was right.

They were the predator watching two others fight—a mantis attacking a cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.

But when the battle didn’t go as planned, they even had to assist the mantis in finishing off the cicada.

After all, that cicada had taken a bite out of them not long ago.

“If you don’t trust me, I can leave.”

The black mist slowly began to drift away from Charles.

At this, the Second Prince abruptly rose to his feet, his tone stern. “Is that really wise? King Magus won’t let you go. And he won’t spare Britannia either. But if we work together—if we truly align forces—not only can we rid ourselves of this looming threat, but we might gain some very… valuable rewards.”

He leaned in slightly, voice low but sharp.

“You’ve heard of the Pure Mana Core, haven’t you?”

At the mention of those four words—Pure Mana Core—the fog visibly trembled.

Then, instead of retreating, it floated back toward Charles.

“You’re not afraid I’ll stab you in the back this time?” the eerie voice asked.

Charles burst into hearty laughter, only to stop abruptly, his face turning cold and dangerous.

“For the honor of Britannia, and for the incredible profit we stand to gain, I am willing to take that risk. Besides—”

He narrowed his eyes.

“I know the Forbidden King is a wise man. Otherwise, the dark mages would’ve been wiped from this world long ago.”

“Ask yourself—who would you rather have as a neighbor? One who occasionally gives you gifts… or one who constantly hunts you, ready to kill at every turn?”

The fog paused for a long moment.

Then came the reply: “Then let’s hope for a fruitful partnership.”

“Indeed,” Charles nodded, raising his right hand.

A strange black ribbon snaked out from the mist and wrapped around his hand. They clasped.

Just then, the young official finished drafting the attack plan.

Charles took it, skimmed it briefly, then raised his voice once more before the silent assembly of ministers:

“King Magus? So what? Against the three-hundred-year history of NK Kingdom, even the great King Magus will be trampled beneath our feet! Our ancestors in Britannia once said something, and today—I pass their words on to all of you!”

“I came, I saw, I conquered!”

The court stirred at last.

The ministers sprang into action.

Though Charles had yet to be officially crowned king, the moment he sat upon the Iron Throne, every heart in the palace had already accepted him as the true sovereign.

As for the young official who had earned the prince’s trust, his influence wasn’t won with mere words.

In truth, the two had been conspiring together for a long time.

Today, Charles had dismissed the old Prime Minister in front of the entire court—for the sole purpose of paving the way for this trusted ally’s rise.

Before the dark fog vanished, its ethereal voice echoed again, now thinner, distant, almost weightless—as though its owner was already on the verge of fading.

“Hah… you really are like your ancestors. Nothing like your pathetic father. But tell me—will you really be the next leader of Britannia?”

Charles gave a cold snort.

“My family’s matters are none of your business. Mind your own, Forbidden King. These recent defeats must’ve been painful. With your numbers already so few, every loss must sting.”

“Hmph! The same could be said for you. Your dead outnumber ours by far!”

With those final words, the black mist dissipated completely.

All the ministers let out a collective sigh of relief.

Regardless of what just transpired, one fact remained: dark mages, and the forbidden magic they wielded, were threats to the entire realm.

Working with them was no different from dancing with the devil.

But if their aid could ensure the success of the retaliation plan, then it was a risk they would have to take.

Both sides knew they were using each other. And both sides were prepared to betray.

But until then—they would cooperate.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!