310 Secrets of the Pas (1/2)

Late at night, the lights from the palace still shone and illuminated the dark clouds as well as the boundless ocean in the distance. Amidst the sound of the lift, the carriage drove into the stillness of the palace square. Soon, a servant ran over to guide the dignified man on the carriage.

”What time is it?” Lancelot asked.

”Two o'clock in the morning, sir,” the servant responded reverently. He opened the gate for him. After Lancelot silently walked into the gate, the servant remained in place, not daring to see the direction of his departure but closed the gate for him.

As Lancelot walked, doors opened in front of him one by one. In the end, there were no more ornate décor, exquisite paintings or carpets, but only a serene air in the corridor.

Lancelot pushed the door open. The chandelier was always bright and there were only one table and several chairs in the room. The seats were filled with people; only the one left for Lancelot was empty.

An iron box and several ashtrays were on the table. The iron box looked unadorned but there were many cigarettes piled in the ashtray. Hearing the sound of the door, someone looked over.

Most of those men were old, well-dressed, wore glasses, and looked dignified. They sat in this lifeless and cold monotonous room without looking out of place. They were like statues that had always belonged there. Waiting in silence, they did not speak to each other. They just smoked and pondered silently, patiently.

This was the ”chamber” that all of Anglo talked about. It was the core of the empire and the legendary place full of conspiracies, bloodshed, and secrets—the Privy Council of Anglo.

It was originally the supreme information institution that reported only to the king. It was composed of the king's think tank to formulate political and diplomatic strategies, and the beginnings and the ends of the war.

Then the king transferred more and more authority to their hands. Now, it had become the highest administration in Anglo, a political organ composed of the royalty, ministers from National Defense, Foreign Affairs and Internal Affairs, as well as the Privy Seal.

The last time so many people were summoned here late at night by the royal family was decades ago. Everyone looked dignified as they had last time, but there was the feeling of slight inhibition this time.

Either consciously or unconsciously, all eyes fell on the iron box in the middle of the table with uneasiness, but also solemnity as if they were looking at their enemies. The box looked like a solid iron block with no lines or emblems. It was very smooth but with sharp angles. There were no openings or cracks at all. But after looking for a long time, people would feel that the iron box was squirming and exuding a disturbing aura.

”I’m sure that the purpose of bringing everyone here today is quite clear,” Maxwell started bluntly. ”Then I won’t waste any time. Let’s just take a look at this—the worst situation now.” Maxwell stretched out his hand and pressed the iron box. He looked up at the others.

The secretary of state was silent for a moment and placed his hand on it too. He was followed by the foreign minister. Finally, Lancelot took off his glove, exposing a hand covered with scars, and pressed down on the iron box.

When the identities of five people were verified at the same time, there was a crisp sound in the box like cranking gears. The complex gears started to turn. With slight tremors, many cracks suddenly appeared in the smooth surface. The box shrank until it became a stylobate-like object. The thing that was sealed inside was finally exposed to the pale light.

On the black iron stylobate was a glittering crystal prism—alchemists had melted iron and silver into the purest metal and turned it into glazed gold by transforming the nature. It looked like a crystal but not even closest explosion or shock could damage it.

It was used to make the windows and glass of politicians' cars. Its good lighting could allow people appreciate the scene outside through the glass while still feeling a great sense of security. However, no one felt safe right now. Amidst the gasps, an eerie sensation spread through their bodies.

Under the cold light, what the prism sealed was a bloody face. One could not tell what that face was like. It looked human and inhuman at the same time, like the face had not developed completely. It was not beautiful but when one looked at it. They would feel the beauty of life. That horrible beauty overwhelmed people’s souls, making them unable to move.

It was solidified in the glass as if it was sleeping but the creeping granulations and capillaries spread above it and penetrated the entire crystal prism, turning it into heterogeneous flesh. The tiny veins were like purple-red tentacles, slowly growing and winding the prism. The exposed parts were slightly undulating as if it was alive. This d*mn thing was breathing!

”A few days ago, it was just a piece of dried out fingernail-sized meat,” Maxwell said. ”Now, as you can see, it has felt the calling of the body and come back to life.”

The people there looked at it in amazement, finally snapping out of their daze. Even though they had been prepared, seeing everything was still unbelievable.

The foreign secretary stared blankly at the prism in the iron box and reached his hand to touch. ”Is this real?”

”Don't touch it!” Maxwell held his wrist quickly. The man’s fingers had almost touched the tiny creeping tentacles but were yanked away.

”It's not something new and fun, sir.” Maxwell's eyes were terrifying. ”Living things are nutrients to it.You will be sapped dry.”

The foreign secretary withdrew his hands as if he had been shocked by electricity. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his fingers though he had not touched anything yet. He stared at that thing with horror.

The secretary of state smoked in silence. After a long time, he said, ”Is it really that thing?” His voice was hoarse, sounding unpleasant but with a gloomy and dignified breath.

”Yes.” Maxwell nodded, gazing at the prism that was turning into flesh and blood. ”It is one of the four natural catastrophes, Leviathan, the monster whose fate is entangled with the kingdom of Anglo. Gentlemen, we are in trouble.” If there was anything that would make this group of powerful people so frightened, this was the first thing.

Since the founding of the nation, the scourge of natural catastrophe, monster of monsters, the shadow that shrouded Anglo—Leviathan had begun to revive! Having just solved the infiltration and conspiracy of the evil gods, they had to confront this now. It was awful!

Lancelot pulled out a cigar from his colleague's case but hesitated. Rather than lighting it, he put it back in the end. Covering his mouth, he coughed softly and wiped the blood from his mouth. He asked quietly, ”How long do we have?”