Soul of Searing Steel

Panda Novel

Naturally, Joshua would definitely not be amongst the Legendary champions who would be in charge of handling the conflicts.

He only had one solution for internal affairs: kill anyone who was being a bother. Like how the cultists had wreaked havoc and the Pentashade dragons conspired before, he would be all too happy to simply run off and handle those provocateurs physically, with the problems naturally resolved after those bastards were dealt with.

As for internal affairs… being a pure fighter without any management skill, there would be no use in forcing himself to participate. Joshua believed that it would be enough for him to simply inform the other Legends that the ‘present unrest could be the omen of an unknown Evil God’s appearance’ since that was his responsibility—any reassuring and negotiation was not his work.

Still, he could at most help build some houses for the citizens of the Far South and handle the more heavily contaminated regions in the Eastern Plains, although such assistance should be limited. Even if he could build cities and clear any pollution, it meant less since it was a problem that Mycroft, a civilization of Extraordinary individuals could handle. To have a Legendary champion, an individual that was essentially an outlier to tidy up the mess, the civilization’s development would be misshapen and not last long.

Champions could reverse fate and escape death, and such individuals certainly could guide civilizations forward. However, to put everything entirely in their hands meant being a parasite that latched on upon them.

Joshua could help Israel and Nostradamus directly build a production line of colossal Void warships while also establishing an industrial base in the East Barnett Highlands—but the Empire had the technology in the first place, and he only helped to accelerate the process.

If he really ran off to help the Far Southern Kingdom establish basic infrastructure, decontaminate the Eastern Plains and forcefully resolve the conflict between nobles and citizens in the Northern Empire, it was no longer a matter of acceleration.

In fact, it was the very definition of spoiling things through enthusiasm and avoidance of minimal risks.

He would not do that.

Joshua was aware that his aid would never help to handle the root of any issues. The Far Southern Kingdom would simply keep themselves looking away from the troubles of their citizens, factories of the Eastern Plains would not attempt to resolve their emission issues, with the problem reoccurring just a few months later.

Such was the reality of not handling problems at its root.

Unlike enemies that could realistically be handled with fists, power and Extraordinary abilities could help with such issues but not in its entirety. The World of Mycroft remains between ‘Primitive Pre-Industry Era’ and ‘Superpower civilization’, with time being needed to adapt to such an era, world, and society, just as reforms were necessary for basic policy and social structures.

Of course, that was wrong too—the warrior was convinced that he just had to search and destroy the true form of that unknown Evil God, and the worrying present might improve considerably.

Even if brute force could not handle issues of policy, it could at least resolve exacerbated conflict.

Such was the truth.

“Either way, there’s no point in thinking too much.”

Muttering that to himself, Joshua then bade Pope Igor farewell. However, he did not teleport away, walking out of the gates of the temple instead to take a look at the besieging of the Far Southern Royals.

Still, he could not help shaking his head as he walked. “Other Legends are much better than I am in internal affairs; they definitely could resolve those small threats.”

In the end, he himself was from a world of Great Unity after a Third World War, and was born knowing nothing about political conflict. The other Legends, being champions of a supernatural realm, should have the command to handle such matters well.

At the very thought, he could faintly hear the nearby roaring of slogans at the square in front of the palace chains.

Joshua headed for the square.

The center of the Far Southern Kingdom’s capital was the ‘King’s Square’, found in front of the palace. The lively statue of a monarch that was fifty meters tall and riding a war horse stood aloft at the center of the square, jointly crafted three hundred years ago by thirty-two national alchemists. When necessary, the statue of the former king would be animated by a temporary magic circle, transcending the boundary of living and dead to protect his citizens.

It was the most distinct landmark and the pride of the capital.

But now, beneath that huge statue that watched over the kingdom were masses of crudely dressed people, led by several nobles wearing clothes of extravagant as all of them charged at the outer palace gates.

The palace guards neither attempted to drive the mob away or open the gates, and simply pretended to see nothing as the crowd assaulted the doors—as long as Extraordinary individuals did not attack, normal individuals would never break past the self-repairing gates. Furthermore, the nobles in the lead did not appear intent on breaching since they were simply symbolizing that ‘royalty are dishonorable’ and tools to destroy the royals’ sovereignty. That was why they allowed the citizens to vent however they could as they hammered away at the doors.

The leaders of the Kingdom—be it the royals or nobles desiring reform, including the thirteen lieges of the self-rule regions might not have even cared about what the peasants thought, simply using the raging masses as tools to their ends.

It would be one mob today, and another tomorrow. There would be refugees coming in noon or evening when those that came in the morning became fatigued since there was no shortage of manpower.

From afar, Joshua noticed that the refugees’ bodies were unwell.

That was natural—their homes were locations deeply affected by the Draconic Plague, and even if they were not killed, the decaying mountains of dragon and human corpses meant terrible repercussions too. It was also why the Cult had chosen the Far South to spread the Black Plague and other maladies: it was a fertile soil for diseases.

Furthermore, their houses that provided neither warmth nor shelter from wind and rain was also a vital fact. Most towns were dilapidated or were even without ruins after the war against the dragons ended. Without any professional construction talent amongst the survivors or any aid and recompense from their own nation, none of the survivors could live in any normal housing for years.

The crowds charging at the palace was random and noisy, with a stamped barely avoided. There was also signs that the uproar was spreading, with some of the mob ready to bother any passer-by in sight.

Joshua could not help but shake his head and sigh at that.

Without a word, he lifted his hand and stirred a gale.

The sudden gale descended, but did not throw every person off their feet. Instead, the gale quickly regulated the mob’s formation, getting them to stand in order, just as the trace amount of Steel Strength in the gale healed the refugees who had actual trouble walking, slightly calming their hateful minds.

In the very least, that was what a Legendary champion could do.

The sudden mysterious gale silenced the entire mob, while the palace guards and the mob leaders looking around in shock to find out who had done all that.

But Joshua had already left the Far South.

“Come to think of it, the infighting amongst the gods at the end of the Glorious Era… bears great resemblance to the present.”

In the skies, Joshua’s clone slowly dispersed as luminous specks of silver. Right before he vanished recalling the cause of the Lost Three Hundred Years—the ‘Civil War of the Gods’ that finally destroyed the Glorious Era.

While things appeared different, there were the same lurking issues that blew up. Conflicts forcefully suppressed by the Sage reignited as the gods turned on each other with lethal enmity, and things developed naturally from there on: conflict escalated into chaotic war, and all of civilization died under the most unbelievable, natural and foolish of circumstances.

Just like how he found those self-destructing demons in the Abyss.

***

What was happening in the Far South, the Eastern Plains and the Empire was actually no different than what the demons went through.

A theory that should chill the heart actually did not even stir Joshua, even if he was sighing at the sight of those angry refugees who wore clothes that barely covered their bodies as they launched themselves at the palace dozens of seconds ago.

As Steel Strength particles swirled, Joshua’s expression became solemn—it meant that he was becoming serious, and prepared to handle the problem at hand with his own method.

Right now, the warrior only had a single thought.

“Looks like I have to go to the Bottom of the Abyss.”

If there were any place where Evil Gods could be born in the entire galaxy, the so-called Abyssal Paradise was unquestionably it.

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