Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton
Chapter 1528 - 1089: My Head is Going to be Twisted Off

Chapter 1528: Chapter 1089: My Head is Going to be Twisted Off

Loyalty? Do they even know who I am? The first in line to succeed in the Leo Royal Court—Prince Gulalata—and they dare demand my loyalty? Are they insane?

Gulalata was utterly incredulous at the moment. He didn’t think he had misheard; the Sword of Truth’s abilities ruled out such an error. It was just that the sheer absurdity of the other party’s words left him astounded.

"Gulalata, the first in line to succeed in the Leo Royal Court. Currently reigning is your uncle, Nikola Leo. Huh, Nikola? I hate that name." Anthony sneered and then continued:

"Thirty-six years old, became a Truth Swordsman six years ago. Pretty capable for someone so young. Unmarried, with two illegitimate children..." Anthony pulled out a piece of paper, which the silver coin had just handed him.

When it came to the upper echelon of the Leo Royal Court, the silver coin of course collected information on them. However, Gulalata was one of those individuals who rarely appeared in public settings, keeping an extremely low profile. Hence, his information wasn’t memorized and had to be retrieved.

Anthony accurately read out his identity, causing Gulalata’s heart to sink. The fact that the other party recognized him meant that the earlier words were not a joke.

These people truly wanted him to swear allegiance—or they’d kill him? Were they mad? Did they not fear provoking the vengeance of the entire Leo Royal Court?

"Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re asking the successor of an empire to pledge loyalty to you—you know..." Gulalata’s voice was rising in anger, but before he could finish, Anthony interrupted him.

"Hold on. You’re just one subsystem of the Divine Light Association’s commerce guild; you’re not an empire. This ’empire’ you talk about—did it get recognition from the Great Ruler?" Anthony criticized mercilessly.

Gulalata felt his breath catch in his chest, his face flushing red from the pent-up frustration. True, the organizational structure of the Divine Light Alliance was just a commerce guild, and the six major factions were merely trade caravans or divisions of the guild in name.

But the guild was far too vast—up to this day, it encompassed dozens of planes within the Prime Material Plane and over a hundred within the Abyss Dimension, with a population that numbered in the billions. Its vast territory was so sprawling that airships couldn’t fully traverse it within several months.

Such an expansive organization could no longer be managed like a simple trade caravan. In reality, the organizational structures of each major faction had long developed into a model of empire governance.

Behind closed doors, they often referred to themselves as some empire or another. The term "Divine Light Association" had faded years ago, and "Alliance" was seldom used. Publicly, they mostly adopted titles such as the Leo Royal Court or Emperor Joseph to subtly or deliberately distance themselves from "Divine Light."

Yet behind the scenes, titles hardly mattered. To the Great Ruler, they were still the Divine Light Association, and their organizational structure was undeniably that of a commerce guild. Labels like empire or kingdom were not acknowledged by the Council.

This was also why, in the Friel Empire, they were often mockingly referred to as a commerce guild. This insulted them while simultaneously forcing them to admit it, leaving them quite bitter.

Now, having this emphasized right in front of Gulalata almost made him choke himself senseless. He couldn’t refute it; all he could do was feign defiance by saying, "What does the Great Ruler’s recognition have to do with you? Does the Great Ruler know who you are? Does the guild’s policy need to be explained to you?"

Though outwardly defiant, he dared not bring up "empire" anymore. "You demand my loyalty—do you even consider the Court of Rio in your plans?"

Anthony gave a slight smile. "Forget whether I’ve taken the Court of Rio seriously—I certainly haven’t taken you seriously. Now guess—if I beat you to death, would the Court of Rio’s others be pleased?"

Gulalata’s face darkened; he appeared visibly hit in a sore spot, glaring angrily at Anthony.

"See, dealing with fools is always so troublesome. Instead of glaring at me, you should be thinking about your choices. Surely you don’t think I won’t dare to kill you?" Anthony commented wryly.

People who were too self-assured were the hardest to engage with. They operated within their own worldview. Even when you spoke plainly, they stuck to their own understanding, treating others’ words as mere noise.

Turning toward Durken, Anthony said, "Durken, your turn—grab his head and start twisting, slowly. Either he submits or it comes off completely."

"Oh no, it’s so filthy. Why don’t you do it?" Durken complained with disgust but still approached Gulalata, seizing his head and beginning to exert pressure.

"Me? Fighting, of course. Unless—you want to handle the fighting and let me do the twisting?" Anthony’s Divine Soul materialized and swiftly enveloped him—merging with his Divine Soul completely.

"No, no. This head’s tactile feel is great; I’ll stick to my task," Durken quickly refused, continuing to apply force to Gulalata’s head.

Durken’s actions naturally alarmed the Mourning Undead Soldiers hovering above. Seeing that Gulalata’s life was genuinely under threat, their souls practically fled their bodies, roaring as they rushed down.

Anthony’s body flared with Holy Light as he charged forward to meet them.

Negris remarked in surprise, "He doesn’t seriously intend to duel six Mourning Undead Soldiers all by himself, does he?"

"Of course not. He’s got his eye on the elder as a safety net. Still, it’s doable—his Holy Light deals enhanced damage to the undead," Durken continued nonchalantly, all while increasing pressure on Gulalata’s head. His tone was so utterly relaxed that you’d hardly guess he was mid-twist.

Just as those words were spoken, one of the Mourning Undead Soldiers lunging toward Anthony suddenly erupted with Holy Light from all seven orifices, emitting an ear-piercing soul-rending scream.

The undead being, confident in its tough and durable flesh, had attempted to withstand Anthony’s attack head-on—only for Anthony’s single Holy Light Judgment to nearly evaporate its soul entirely.

Its eyes, ears, mouth, and nose glowed intensely as though someone had shoved a magic crystal lamp bulb inside its head. After the agonizing shriek, it staggered back, terrifying the remaining Mourning Undead Soldiers. "What... what kind of power is this?"

They detected something entirely different in the Holy Light and the dying screams.

Not wasting time on banter, Anthony maintained his slow and steady movements, swinging the Pope Wand—which was more of a warhammer-axe than a ceremonial staff. In the Pope’s hand, it symbolized authority; in Anthony’s hand, it was a lethal weapon.

Realizing Anthony couldn’t be ignored, the remaining five Mourning Undead Soldiers exchanged glances before diving toward him.

"Good!" Anthony shouted in excitement. He loved these chaotic brawls the most. Fights where foes split up to encircle him or send one to focus on him while others bypassed were far more bothersome—after all, he was alone.

Clang-clang! After blocking more than ten blows, the Mourning Undead Soldiers finally caught onto this tactic. One screamed, "You guys go around; I’ll hold him off!"

But this was futile. The remaining five soldiers left one behind to engage Anthony and the other four attempted to break past.

Yet how could one undead soldier hope to stall Anthony alone? Two moves later, Anthony bludgeoned its head with his wand, unleashing Holy Light that left its skull buzzing like a struck gong.

Seizing the moment, Anthony darted toward another Mourning Undead Soldier, leaving it no choice but to turn and face him.

Meanwhile, the remaining three threw caution to the wind as they charged at Durken. After all, Gulalata’s head was already twisted nearly backward.

Unfortunately for them, the silver coin swung its money bag, blocking their path. Negris also spat at one of the Mourning Undead Soldiers approaching from the side. To their horror, the saliva began turning their skin into silver wherever it landed.

"I surrender! I surrender! I give up!" Gulalata finally broke down. The sound of his neck vertebrae misaligning had become disturbingly loud, and it was only moments away from snapping entirely.

It turned out these people were genuinely prepared to kill him. Royal status and succession rights meant nothing. Just a little longer, and he’d have been dead.

Having sworn his oath of loyalty under duress, Negris curiously asked, "They were risking their lives to save you—do you share Soul Contact with them or something?"