Mythology Rebooted
Chapter 1265 - 428 Above the Demigod, a Swap for One; Below the Demigod, I Am Invincible

Chapter 1265: Chapter 428 Above the Demigod, a Swap for One; Below the Demigod, I Am Invincible

May 15th, night.

The Death Knight went to war, patrolling the territory.

When the Hell Gate opened during the day, the Devil Alliance unleashed its full force—its pawn, The Black Principle Cult—launching an all-out assault on Paris’s Magical Department Headquarters.

Frank’s Magic Realm had long been dominated by four churches: the trio of the Naturalism, Sunlight, and Moonlight Churches that formed the Life Alliance, and God-chosen Continent’s foremost power, the Heavenly Father’s Court.

Among them, the Sunlight and Moonlight Churches were first corrupted by devils, then wiped out by their own Holy Maidens, leaving only one High Priest, Givenchy.

The Heavenly Father’s Court was also infiltrated by devils; under Uriel’s iron-fisted suppression, the clergy ’saw the light’ and returned to the righteous embrace of the Heavenly Father.

Three churches were decimated, leaving only the Naturalism Church capable of fighting.

At first glance, a disastrous collapse seemed inevitable.

But in reality, despite the Black Principle Cult boasting countless devil pawns—hundreds, thousands, seemingly endless—they had few competent fighters. Apart from their disposable container artifacts, the rest were merely cannon fodder.

Even in a muddled fight, the Magical Department Headquarters couldn’t organize a counterattack, but its defense was more than capable.

An offensive-defensive battle raged from daybreak until nightfall.

As night fell, hearty laughter echoed across the Magical Department Headquarters. The Death Knight burst forth from a teleportation gate with sword in hand, cutting down heads with strokes swift and effortless.

Surging deathly tentacles swept across the battlefield, corroding flesh, extinguishing consciousness, leaving behind scores of loyal Skeleton Soldiers.

The Black Principle Cult’s forces dwindled by the minute, while the Death Knight’s legion multiplied exponentially. The scales of victory tipped heavily to one side, with not a hint of hesitation.

The former Death Knight faced formidable opponents—subsidiary gods and leading figures of the Devil Alliance—yet the current Death Knight Wayne was no less impressive. He’d kissed the Dark Goddess Idinis in the confessional and engaged in ’ritual pursuits’ with Archangel Hexuno in the bedroom.

The sewer king, an old hand in the pipes.

Having finished the ’ranked match,’ he reverted to ’bot mode,’ leaving scores dead in his wake and effortlessly subjugating the entire scene.

In a burst of momentum, he shattered six defensive prohibitions protecting the Magical Department Headquarters, leaving just one standing before fully conquering Frank’s Magical Realm.

That’s simply how God-chosen Knights operated—they were the mortal realm’s sworn deterrents against the Heavenly Father’s Court, ensuring their own churches avoided obliteration.

The strength of the five God-chosen Knights was indisputable, particularly the prior generation: Mula, Leo, Dreyne, Vizi, and Rone—a shining constellation in their own right.

They possessed power, moral grounding (well, 4/5 moral grounding), and any one of them could effortlessly crush Frank’s Magic Realm.

It’s not just a matter of being strong—they defied all reason like bricks hurdling through the air. Understand?

Witnessing the Death Knight break through six defenses with ease—like eating and drinking—the mages at the Magical Department Headquarters were on the brink of insanity, nearly forging an alliance with the Black Principle Cult on the spot.

As the two sides began negotiations, pulling out ritual papers and roasted chicken offerings, lo and behold—the Death Knight left.

The two sides stared at each other—wide-eyed—and just like that, the Black Principle Cult collapsed.

Wayne hadn’t gone far, riding his cheerful little mare in circles around Paris, leading his skeleton battalion to fulfill that long-dreamed military parade.

Denied marching in Lundan, surely he wouldn’t miss out in Paris—it’d be a waste otherwise!

Then again, as the saying goes, "Secrets of the world stay within the world." A parade was fine, but not in front of common folk. Religion ran too deep; ordinary souls were better off ignorant, as staying unaware was their greatest blessing.

Wayne’s spectral soldiers traveled underground via sewers, targeting scattered Black Principle Cult followers throughout Paris, eradicating evil mercilessly, sparing none. When it came to devil pawns, he acted without hesitation.

And so, he rode Yuliya all night long, only ceasing at dawn.

Yuliya relished the ride, and Wayne was equally satisfied.

Before now, Wayne didn’t fully realize Yuliya’s worth, knowing her only as the mount of the Headless Knight—the sole steed among the five God-chosen. Only now did he grasp her true nature: one incarnation of Death itself.

To not ride her more would be an outright disrespect to the Goddess of Death residing within his eyes.

Speaking of the goddess, it’s time for this month’s rent.

What, bankrupt and penniless?

Heh, isn’t there still your body?

As Rone explained—putting it in terms of ’divine transgression’—this was merely the goddess riding the goddess. Both he and Wayne were vessels for the goddess’s consciousness, hardly an affront to faith.

Wayne didn’t quite understand, nor did he dwell on it; riding brought joy, and that was enough.

...

The dawn of May 16th.

At the Naturalism Church Headquarters, inside the High Priest’s Office: The room was a mess, beautiful women strewn everywhere, slumped over chairs and desks, utterly spent.

Sang Lan’s desk was indeed enormous—enough for Isabella, Guinevere, and Sukra to lie down side by side.

On an office chair was Heya, head buried deep in her chest.

Aside from the ever-spirited Cote, everyone else was completely drained from the recent battle, collapsed in utter exhaustion.

Neither Sang Lan nor Givenchy were present. As fellow Regional High Priests, both were still working overtime at the Magical Department Headquarters. After yesterday’s chaotic warfare in Paris, the factions were shifting, and the road ahead promised hectic times.

Cote paced near an inner-room door, occasionally leaning against it to eavesdrop, deciding whether to push the situation further.

According to Guinevere, Wayne showed no interest in her or Isabella. If Cote stubbornly made advances, she’d only embarrass herself. Rather than speculating on how to fulfill the Divine Decree, it was better to uphold the demeanor of a Holy Maiden and remain a poised, cold beauty.

The secretary already made it clear—Wayne had a soft spot for that type.

Guinevere had valid points, yet Cote remained fixated on the Divine Decree. She had an intense drive for advancement, obsessed with progress.

Click!