The silver diadem settled upon the king's head.
In that instant, the diadem became a crown, and the statue became a king.
Emerald patterns began to glow across the crown's surface. As the light spread, the 4,900 golden warriors within the underground hall awakened, wave after wave, like ripples expanding from a single point.
Crimson steam hissed out.
Scarlet light ignited.
The king's legion had awakened.
All intruders would be punished with death.
At the same time, Mozo's heart suddenly skipped. He frowned and looked down, a vague sense of unease rising in his chest. Something big had just happened.
Inside the massive circular chamber, the black-robed figures stared at the crown glowing with green light.
"Honored Master Craftsman Daedalus, has it succeeded?"
The elven master did not answer immediately.
Instead, he stared at the king he had crowned with his own hands, his expression filled with fanatic devotion.
Though it was only a statue.
Though the crown was merely a replica.
He was still utterly entranced.
Ah… this is the King.
The King who once guarded the Twin Sacred Trees.
Slowly, almost instinctively, the elf knelt down and kissed the ground at the king's feet.
"My King, do you see it? Your legion has awakened!"
"These blasphemers who defiled your treasury will be wiped out by your glorious army!"
"What an honor, what a blessing. That I, a mere descendant, can witness this sacred moment!"
"All glory belongs to you, my King!"
The black-robed leader sighed inwardly and waited.
Only after the elf calmed down slightly did he ask again,
"So it worked, right?"
Only then did the elven craftsman turn his head, chin raised with pride.
"Of course, human."
"My King's legion has awakened. They will destroy all foreign beings before them."
"And…"
His gaze shifted upward, filled with cold disdain.
"…this city that dared to offend my King's glory."
The black-robed leader hesitated before asking,
"Are you certain? Count Hahn is a Sequence Three demigod. Can this legion really kill him?"
The elf let out a cold laugh.
"Of course."
"This is the army forged after my King struck down the Undying Dragon, created using the mystique of an angel and the finest elven adamantine."
"They are immortal."
"They are magnificent."
"And like us, eternally loyal."
The black-robed leader nodded.
"Then I'm relieved."
Killing a Sequence Three and destroying an imperial special district, either one alone would be a massive gain.
"Then allow my subordinates to withdraw first. After that, I will personally ensure the safe transfer of you and your king."
The elf waved dismissively.
"Do as you wish."
The remaining black-robed figures left without a word.
Once they were gone, the leader casually clasped his hands behind his back. A faint scent spread through the air, slightly pungent, yet strangely pleasant.
This operation was never about a conflict between human empires.
Meanwhile, before the bronze gate in the underground hall, the group, completely unaware of what had just happened, continued observing the massive gate with caution and awe.
After a moment, Count Hahn raised his hand.
"Prepare the charges."
The explosives they carried were enhanced with alchemical reagents, powerful enough to blast through what was likely only a symbolic barrier.
Several transcendents stepped forward to set them.
The others spread out, keeping watch.
Count Hahn himself stared at the gate.
If nothing went wrong, behind it should be an elven High Lord waiting to awaken.
His mission was simple, prevent any damage to the special district.
If possible, he wanted to avoid a direct fight.
Not because he feared losing, but because a battle between demigods could devastate everything nearby.
Then his instincts screamed.
"Everyone, get away from the gate!"
Too late.
The moment his voice fell, the bronze gate melted.
Molten metal burst outward like a flood, swallowing those too slow to react.
They didn't even have time to scream before dying on the spot.
At the same time, the explosives were triggered.
A violent explosion tore through the area, mixed with searing molten metal.
But the imperial transcendents reacted instantly.
Energy shields flared into existence.
Some transformed into iron-bodied forms to tank the blast.
Others turned into mist, slipping through the destruction.
Different methods, but all effective.
Aside from the initial casualties, the rest survived.
Then from within the smoke came heavy footsteps.
Grinding gears.
Scarlet light flickered like hellfire behind the haze.
Moments later, a golden warrior burst out.
Runic greatblades extended from its arms as it charged forward with terrifying speed, completely at odds with its bulky body.
Then another.
And another.
Crimson steam roared as more golden warriors surged out like a tide.
Count Hahn waved his hand.
Countless hawks formed in the air and shot forward.
Flesh met metal.
Small met massive.
Yet the hawks sliced through the golden warriors like blades through butter.
After a single clash, dozens of golden warriors collapsed.
Only a few reached the front line and were quickly destroyed.
One iron-bodied transcendent smashed a warrior's head apart.
Another, in mist form, invaded a warrior's body. Moments later, its crimson core went dark.
Others were blasted into fragments by explosive runes.
In less than half a minute, every charging golden warrior lay in ruins.
The iron-bodied man snorted.
"That's it?"
The next second, a silver-white hand crushed his head.
The warrior he had just destroyed stood up again.
Its chest glowed red once more.
Its shattered head reformed instantly.
Then one by one, all the fallen golden warriors began to rise again.
Rebuilding.
Reforming.
Reawakening.
The King's legion was immortal.