Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1315: Chapter 42: The Power of the Holy Grail

“They… have returned…”

At this moment, Farael suddenly trembled all over.

He then held his head tightly and squatted down, not caring how the Clown’s fists hit him, as if he felt no pain at all.

Finally… the Clown gave up on continuing to attack this guy.

“They’ve returned… Ah—!!!”

Suddenly, Farael stood up, a turbulent aura emanating from him like a tornado— in shock, he had already crossed the distance, appearing directly before the Clown.

The Clown, with his superhuman perception, couldn’t capture the opponent’s movements—next, under his incredulous gaze, he could only see Farael tear open the Holy Armor on his chest—tear open his breastplate!

“Get away!!”

After tearing open the Clown’s breastplate, he punched out—Mr. Clown’s body was slammed directly into the ground!

At this time, Farael, holding a piece of the Clown’s Holy Armor’s breastplate, directly fixed his gaze on Caesar.

Caesar possessed the blood of a Beastman, but at this moment… he was the true Beast!

Flash.

He didn’t have time to react, his chest was already fiercely struck… the purple-black Holy Armor instantly shattered into light, returning to the Holy Seal, simultaneously, the Undamaged Lake Light was also seized by the opponent.

With another punch—Caesar was directly slammed into the building.

It took only a mere blink of an eye—Caesar and the Clown had simultaneously fallen at Farael’s hands.

Farael didn’t pause, ignoring Catherine of Doomsday Myth and others, he didn’t even glance at them, appearing maniacal as he raised the breastplate piece as a shield in one hand and holding the Undamaged Lake Light in the other, he rushed towards the place where the black light emanated!

Nature’s spirit engravings on the blade gleamed under the black light, yet appeared like fireflies.

“Devil… face your death!!”

The roar resounded, Farael crazily charged forward, raising the Undamaged Lake Light without a word and slashing towards Perkins!

Sir Pukins, at this moment, only felt a continuous influx of vitality from the Holy Grail through his hands, coursing into his body.

The aged skin began to regain tightness, the graying hair turned black… the emaciated physique gradually grew robust.

He was undergoing a process of rejuvenation from aging—a wondrous feeling akin to re-mastering life, causing him to be lost in an ocean of boundless fervor.

When Farael’s sword slashed through, he suddenly awakened from this wondrous feeling… appeared so terrified—afraid that all would be shattered by Farael’s strike!

“No—!!!” The knight shouted furiously!

But Farael’s target wasn’t him… rather, the Holy Grail he was holding!

Clang—!!!

The Undamaged Lake Light cleaved through the black light, slashing directly at the rim of the Holy Grail, only to hear the sound of the clash… akin to a colossal bell!

The entire city reverberated!

Crack—!

Shattered.

It was the Undamaged Lake Light that shattered, its blade before Farael fragmented into stardust, and following was a vast power unleashed from the Holy Grail, blasting him away!

The breastplate shield in his hands shattered under the release of this power… only to see Farael’s hands crossed in front of him… two long marks left on the ground by his legs.

The white suit he wore was now ragged, revealing large areas of skin, from which steam as if boiling emerged… the skin was marked with what appeared to be burns.

He had warded it off… yet simultaneously, he became more chaotic, frantic… even terrified.

“Can’t win… can’t win… no matter what… can’t win… why!!!”

At this moment, he suddenly pressed his hands on his head, and as he looked at the Holy Grail, his whole body began to tremble, countless fallen figures emerged in his eyes… faces of despair.

Each was once slain when he was frenzied… former comrades and partners.

Seemingly mocking him, seemingly cursing him… they rushed forward, beginning to strangle his neck, grabbing his hands and feet.

The ground seemed to transform into a swamp, countless undead reached out from the mud… in the darkness, they seemed determined to drag him completely into the swamp.

“Don’t come… don’t… come here—!!!!”

Turning… rushing out, escaping.

“Don’t follow me!! Don’t follow me—!! It’s not my doing… not my doing!! Get away—!!!!”

The strongest Great Knight in history’s madness and terror stunned everyone… he actually fled like this.

…

Stunned at once, everyone secretly breathed a sigh of relief, after all, no one wished to face this monster once more.

But… what kind of terrifying thing could instill such fear in him, making him flee frantically like a coward?

No one knew… they instinctively glanced at the undispersed black light, a sense of dread gradually rising from their hearts.

Catherine hugged her arms trembling in horror at this moment.

In the distance, Ms. Ren, who thought she was sure of victory, still unsure of Farael’s intentions but pleased to watch events unfold from hiding, also felt a force instantly plunging her mind into boundless darkness.

She wasn’t much better off than Farael.

After a scream, the witch simply fled from the place.

…

…

Laughter, first a soft chuckle, then that kind of arrogant laughter even Sir Pukins himself didn’t expect to hear from himself appeared.

He wasn’t arrogant, or else he wouldn’t carefully plan everything, wouldn’t wait until his hair was gray to initiate all this—but that overwhelming power plunged him instantly into a whirlpool of seemingly infinite mighty force.

Even the strongest knight in history, under the power of the Holy Grail, fled like a lost dog… witnessed it all, witnessed it firsthand!

Power seemed to activate all of Sir Pukins’ nerves instantaneously, an indescribable feeling of pleasure shattered his calmness… calmness, plots, contemplation, what was the use of these—in this invincible power.

The indisputable gaze of the Non-Human, their natural disdain for ordinary humans… it wasn’t arrogance, but when power reached such a degree, earthly bonds no longer mattered.

“Wonderful.”

The power of the Holy Grail continued to flow… the greater the sacrifice, the stronger its effect!

Perkins was captivated, looking at his powerful arm, feeling the youthful vitality of every part of his body, and the transformation from a white-haired old man to a robust figure.

He stopped the laugh, then softly called: “Mordred!”

A large Holy Seal appeared on his chest at that moment, and simultaneously… a hidden Holy Armor in the manor vanished, appearing on Sir Pukins.

The moment his palm touched it, the Holy Armor transformed into flowing light, covering Sir Pukins’ body.

With the Holy Armor of Mordred—greater power began to flow into his body.

Sir Pukins casually swung a fist.

Boom——!

With a single strike, most of the dilapidated palace was destroyed like this!

He slowly raised the arm that had thrown out the punch, clenched it… At this moment, it felt as if the entire world was already within his grasp.

He suddenly waved his hand.

In the now destroyed Royal Hall, the floor directly cracked open, and the shattered stones and damaged furniture were all pushed aside.

From the cracked floor, steps began to emerge… On the steps, a giant throne formed from the materials here finally appeared before his eyes.

Sir Pukins was satisfied as he glanced at the Holy Grail in his hand… It seemed like a scepter that allowed him to arbitrarily control the world… Everything acted according to his will.

He was immersed in this pleasant feeling, walking step by step towards the throne on the steps.

No one noticed that, at the moment the black light from the Holy Grail was emitted, a trace of black mist quietly wrapped around Knight Lancelot, who was buried under the debris…

…

…

Rumble…

Amid the collapsed buildings, a figure turned over the large stone that had fallen on them and then staggered out… Mr. Clown.

Mr. Clown at this moment held his shoulder, his steps somewhat unsteady… but he still headed towards the Royal Hall step by step.

Along the way, Mr. Clown saw Catherine, Judas and others… They were gathered together, looking somewhat dazed, seemingly searching for the figure of Caesar.

Mr. Clown paid them no mind and walked into the hall—even though the dome above was shattered, the hall was lit with splendid lights.

On top of the steps, at the giant throne, Sir Pukins was resting his chin on his hand, looking down from the throne, while the Holy Grail was still in his hand.

Before him, his foster son Ofen was kneeling on one knee.

And there was Simpton who had climbed out from the debris despite being heavily injured… also kneeling before Pukins.

Also present was Her Majesty the Queen… Her Majesty was at this moment bound by numerous light halos… She was lowering her head, but surely her expression did not look good.

“Dagonet.” Pukins moved his gaze forward, “You’ve done well, my knight… It was indeed a bit much to have you resist Farael, come forward!”

Mr. Clown shrugged his shoulders and came next to Simpton and Ofi, kneeling on one knee as well.

Only then, Pukins suddenly spoke: “I will crown myself king here… Ofen!”

At this point, Ofen nodded, then directly stood up, holding in his hands the ancient crown he had brought from the start.

He held the crown, lowered his head, walking step by step from the bottom of the steps—yet Pukins suddenly waved his hand and said, “Wait a moment, my child.”

Ofen’s expression changed slightly, then he looked up in confusion—only to see Pukins was not looking at him but gazing up at the night sky.

He also raised his head.

Above the shattered dome of the hall, figures were floating in the air… not three or four, but dozens in count.

These people were all wearing gray-black robes, covering their faces… each emanating thick magical power.

Sir Pukins casually glanced at them and then smiled, looking at Her Majesty the Queen who stood silently below the steps, “It seems your reliance has arrived after all… I am quite curious how you managed to enlist these magicians’ help, Queen Elizabeth?”

“Perhaps, by transferring the mining rights of several deposits in the eastern secret land.” Her Majesty the Queen raised her head, “Now thinking about it, I am indeed quite wasteful.”

“Eastern…?” Pukins frowned—he knew the mineral deposit there… Those hidden ores were precious magic materials, “You truly are willing.”

“After all, you’ve always been by my side.”

Her Majesty looked quite helpless at this moment, “So, how could I not be cautious… Pukins, turn back. Actually, I am more familiar with your white-haired appearance, it makes me feel that time has indeed passed.”

“Ridiculous.”

Pukins shook his head and slowly stood up from the throne, “Perhaps in your eyes, non-human power has no concept at all… even the difference between ordinary knights and Twelve Knights seems like just the gap between a boxer and ordinary people? Sometimes, numbers don’t determine victory… This has already been proven by that Prime Minister.”

“Is there truly nothing but battle?” Her Majesty sighed, “Pukins…”

“Do you truly believe that, with these people from the Magician’s Association, you can withstand me now?”

Pukins waved his hand, “It’s fine, since it’s my coronation, of course, some audience is needed… though the number is small, if they’re all magicians, it’s still acceptable.”

Among the many magicians in the sky who were watching, one suddenly spoke: “This is the Holy Grail, the spoils given to the Knight Agency after the great war back then…”

“It seems you are familiar with that part of history.” Pukins said indifferently: “Perhaps you are still young and unaware of its true power.”

“Not necessarily.”

This man with a small light bird on his shoulder… Steward Aes, one of the four great stewards of the Magician Association’s Arcane Tower, smiled: “In terms of spoils, we have secretly kept two items as well.”

“Are you planning to represent the Magician’s Association and wage war against me?” Pukins asked expressionlessly.

“No.” Steward Aes shook his head, “I am merely representing the Magician’s Association to complete the employment assignment entrusted to us by our employer.”

“I see…” Pukins regrettably shook his head and sighed: “I will let you witness my current power, and then give you one more chance… Choose, submit. Or… become my sacrifice.”

As he spoke, Pukins casually swung out a punch… the wave of light from the punch rushed forward.

The members of the Magician’s Association seemed to have prepared long ago, as they simultaneously raised their hands at this moment—but before they could cast magic, two figures flashed in lightning speed, blocking the light of the punch together.

As the light faded, these two figures fell simultaneously in the hall… one of them was wearing azure Holy Armor.

They… looked solemnly at Pukins sitting on the throne.

“Oh… Gareth and Bedivere, you’re here too.” Pukins smiled slightly, spreading his arms: “Have you come to celebrate the birth of the New King… Knights!”

“Mr. Pukins… is it truly you?” Gareth’s face showed pain, “For personal gain… is it really you?”

“Do you truly think I was wrong, is it really so.” Pukins shook his head, “Why not believe that under my leadership, Britain will return to the honor of being the world’s strongest nation… Why not believe that I will do better?”

“I’m sorry, I cannot agree with such brutal success.” Gareth took a deep breath and slowly drew his sword, “Mr. Pukins, please turn back!”

As Gareth activated his weapon, behind Bedivere, dozens of black shadows had already appeared, densely filling the hall—among them several shadow figures were directly guarding Her Majesty the Queen’s side.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Your Majesty the Queen.” Bedivere said solemnly: “Sorry for letting you see such matters within the Knight Agency… we will soon cleanse it.”

“Hahaha!” Pukins’ wild laughter echoed again… It was hard to define his current state, perhaps his personality hadn’t changed, but he was already influenced by something.

No longer keeping himself calm continuously… Acting freely seemed obviously more enjoyable.

“You, are not enough!” Pukins’ gaze suddenly became mad.

“What if, we join too?”

Outside the Royal Hall, an elderly voice suddenly sounded… along with it, several figures rapidly rushed into the hall.

Behind these figures, two elders slowly walked in… They were clearly the surviving Elders of the Knight Agency, each managing Odin’s Treasure and the Birmingham Knight Agency.

And behind them… several key members of the Doomsday Myth, Catherine, Judas, Tip, and Dobas, were already detained and brought in, guarded by over a dozen knights.

They all showed defeated expressions, looking dispirited and dejected.

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ps: Next chapter will be delayed…

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