Even when the Heavenly Succession had not yet begun, Jerrold's life had already been on a very smooth trajectory. Due to his Talent, he had been judged to be the most outstanding genius of his entire world, supported and raised to the greatest of the people's ability. Although there had been plenty of attempts on his life, and the world's rulers had tried to turn him into their loyal slave, he had triumphed over all of these difficulties.
To him, he was 'the Chosen One', the most outstanding person there was. Others were destined to become his stepping stones, to serve him and be readily available for him to sate his urges. As a result of this mindset, which had only been more heavily reinforced due to decades of lording over his world, he had grown to be incredibly arrogant.
The seat of the Heavenly Emperor? Who else could it belong to but him! As soon as the Heavenly Succession began, despite losing the power which he had accumulated over the decades, everything went perfectly once more. Starting off in a mysterious ruin with an Energy concentration far higher than any place in the world that he came from, his path to the pinnacle was practically guaranteed. There was also a 'top-grade divine artefact' enshrined here, a broadsword with a somewhat devilish, dangerous appearance. It had the ability to absorb the life force of the wielder in exchange for powering it up to incredible heights. And this perfectly complemented his own Talent, which allowed him to ignore this consumption!
Naturally, he only later learned about what kind of weapon this was supposed to be from the native inhabitants of the world in which he had found himself. Otherwise, how else could he have known that it was considered to be a divine artefact of some sort? Nevertheless, the beginning of his tale was as close to perfect as it could have been.
For many weeks, Jerrold bode his time, advancing ever further on the path of cultivation. When he had reached his pre-Heavenly Succession grade did he finally emerge from his seclusion in the ruins! The peak of the Core Formation Stage alone wouldn't have been enough for him to make a meaningful impact, but he was considerably stronger than regular people at the same level.
As a result, he quickly subjugated a nearby city, executing its most powerful leaders without a care in the world. As for the suffering of the regular people, which the Imperial Han Family was responsible for–and that continued unabated after his violent takeover? Why should that matter to him?
Unfortunately for the one who he was about to encounter, he ran into another Heaven's Chosen merely days after this. The woman he met was the most outstanding one he had ever come across, so being the overbearing tyrant which he was, he ignored her protests and attempted to force her to submit to him.
A bloody battle ensued, one that only ended after he had brutally murdered the 'bitch' who had dared to reject his advances! Wouldn't it have been the greatest honour for her to serve at his side? She had even been strong enough to put up a fight against him!
Glancing at his increased Heaven's Chosen Level, the superiority over others which he felt deep in his heart grew with reckless abandon. It was in this state that he ventured out to find another city–one that had been decimated by Theodore. Seeing his advertisement, deep disdain coloured his visage. From the bottom of his heart, he was looking down upon the fool who thought that he could stand out in this competition now that he had entered it.
Unbeknownst to him, the moment when he had walked into this city and read both Theodore's and the Anti-Winter Alliance's messages, Kjartan's Fly Slaves had noticed him. Unsurprisingly, he was reached out to by them soon after, just for him to behave overbearingly and slaughter a few of them. Why would he ever band together with others to face off against some overly self-confident Heaven's Chosen?
If only he had known that the messengers who had been sent out were amongst the weakest pawns under his peer's control. Minutes after his unreasonable outburst, multiple powerful peak Soul Sculpting Stage Fly Slaves came to his side, beating the ever-living crap out of him as if there was no tomorrow.
No matter how hard he fought, no matter how much of his life force he funnelled into his weapon... it was all for naught! He couldn't resist them at all, being little more than a punching bag for them. If it hadn't been for his Talent, which allowed him to survive an ordeal that would have killed most others thousands of times over, he wouldn't be standing any more.
Finally realizing the reality of his situation, the tiny bubble Jerrold had been living in burst. Now knowing that he was not the Chosen One, not the one exceeding everyone else from the very beginning... he almost had a mental breakdown. Cowering in fear, he submitted to Kjartan and became a member of the Anti-Winter Alliance. It wasn't that there was no attempt to make him a Fly Slave, but his Talent passively saved him from such a fate. Therefore, he secretly became a regular Slave of Kjartan, while outwardly being a fellow Heaven's Chosen of the Anti-Winter Alliance.
Like all of his peers, he was soon told to follow the troops to Qinglong City's outskirts, marching with the overwhelming numbers of Fly Slaves and beasts which the two Lords of the alliance had assembled so far.
'They're really creepy... like undead soldiers.'
Whenever Jerrold glanced at the hundreds of thousands of silently marching or resting Fly Slaves, a cold shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't even begin to comprehend which kind of being would require so many troops to deal with. Wasn't their opponent simply a sole person, as well as a few of his peers that he had hired? Did this Theodore Winter truly necessitate such a showing of force?
As Kjartan's Slave, Jerrold was aware of more information than most and fully understood that the number of Fly Slaves that could kill him exceeded the tens of thousands. Every day, more of them would break through to higher stages, as if it was as easy as breathing. While he himself hadn't found it too difficult to become a Soul Sculpting Stage expert, he hadn't even managed to make it out of the Essence Cocoon Realm after close to a month! That was primarily due to the fact that he had no idea how to proceed, as the world which he came from had no knowledge about this cultivation stage!
'Just... what have I got myself into?'
Deep regret in heart, he marched alongside the troops, camping right outside an extremely large Array, which they were supposed to steer clear of for now. Watching his fellow alliance members enjoy nightly banquets one after another, most of them oblivious to the danger they were facing–or simply too confident to take it seriously–he realized that all of them were nothing more than disposable pawns to the two Lords.
Yet, as a Slave, he couldn't exactly come out and say this. He also didn't want to dampen everyone's morale so close before the final battle would begin. Staying silent, all that he could hope for was that the plans the Lords had come up with would play out exactly as they intended.
The desertion of Kiran hit him hard, causing him to feel a chunk less optimistic about their success. After all, that guy had been in charge of nearly all of their intel and communications. If he believed that joining the other side would be better, then that was... worrying. Additionally, with many of their less-secretive plans and troop movements presented to the enemy on a silver platter, their chances turned even less promising.
'... but the Lords haven't given up yet. Therefore, our defeat isn't certain!'
Psyching himself up, he slapped his cheeks and obeyed Kjartan's orders for many weeks, until finally... the command to step over that boundary arrived.
The vast majority of the rapidly ballooning number of Fly Slaves were not even at the Core Formation Stage, but rather mere Body Refinement and Energy Refinement Stage weaklings who had been picked up en masse all across the world by Kjartan. There were also countless weaker beasts of similar strengths amongst those participating in the siege. All of them advanced at once, flooding into the area which the Array protected. Jerrold honestly had no clue how many of them there were, but in his immediate surroundings alone, dozens of millions of them were present!
'So in total, how many are there? Hundreds of millions? A billion?'
He couldn't even wager a proper guess–but all that he was certain of was that all of them were meant to overwhelm the Array. There was only so much Energy to go around, after all–once a certain threshold had been surpassed, then it wouldn't be able to affect anyone else who was entering its area of influence. Naturally, if the controller of the Array manually chose to change its targets, this could be avoided, but that was an extremely difficult task, especially considering the numbers involved here!
'... it's time.'
Observing almost all of the troops that had charged into the Array's area of influence stop abruptly, utterly unable to continue, he recalled his instructions. Gulping heavily, Jerrold grasped his broadsword, infusing it with all of the surplus life force that he had recovered over the past few hours. He had done this for the entire month, powering it up to an unprecedented extent! But even then, he was not sure if it would be enough to ensure his survival.
With the leading Fly Slaves' stares akin to daggers poking his back, he joined his fellow alliance members plus the Core Formation and Soul Sculpting Stage divisions of the massive army and became a part of the second wave.
To his shock, their desperate rush was unimpeded. Very quickly, they arrived at Qinglong City's walls, encountering the resistance of those fanatic believers who they had been carefully avoiding for some time in the past. Yet nothing could stop their slaughter! Only when they neared the most central palace did their progress slow down to a halt. That was when the Lords finally made their move and–
'Huh? What just happened!?'
Suddenly finding himself lying in a pool of blood at the exact spot he had been at right when he had entered the Array's range, Jerrold grew pale. A familiar figure loomed over him, observing him with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
'Theodore Winter! If he's here, then... all that I saw... was merely an illusion? But weren't we supposed to have overloaded his Array? How did this happen?'
Despite the confusion evident in his gaze, his enemy didn't waste too much time on him. More slashes rained down upon him at a speed that he couldn't keep up with whatsoever, soon leaving his body sliced and diced to an extent which even he couldn't recover from. Hovering on the spot in the form of a soul, he was unable to do anything at all, shackled by an invisible force.
As his soul slowly faded, its Energy sucked dry by the unfathomable Array, all he found himself capable of was to look on as Theodore picked up his blade and casually swung it a few times. Seemingly satisfied with it, he teleported behind some more members of the second wave of attacks, who stood rooted to the ground all around him. They fell without any resistance, unable to even comprehend what had occurred. His fellow Heaven's Chosen were no different from him–well, they were actually far less resilient, barely keeping their enemy busy for more than a single attack.
As the seconds trickled by, an endless field of corpses began to stretch out as far as his eyes could see. Terrified souls floated above their bodies, staring at their killer with fear and despair. Yet, throughout all of this, the Initial Ascension Stage Fly Slaves and beasts, as well as the two Lords of the alliance never made a move.
'Kjartan, you bastard! What kind of monster have you provoked?! You better hope I won't find a way to haunt you!'
Filled with rage at his own demise, Jerrold cursed the one who had dragged him into this situation until his soul was completely gone from this world. Naturally, he didn't acknowledge that if things had been different, then he himself would likely also have clashed with Theodore, ending up dead as a result.