Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!-Chapter 553 - 109-Threats and Pressure

"What's going on?"

As soon as Alan arrived near Ironblood City, he immediately sensed powerful surges of mana pulsing from within the city at irregular intervals.

It felt as if individuals with strength on par with tier-platinum level were darting around inside.

Confused, he quickly made his way into the city. Just as he approached the gates, he happened to run into Third Princess Rosalia, who was leading a squad of patrolling soldiers.

The Third Princess gave Alan a quick once-over before asking coolly, "You alright?"

Alan nodded. "I'm fine. Ran into some trouble, but nothing too serious."

He glanced around and asked, "Did something happen in the city?"

The princess waved her soldiers away and gave Alan a subtle signal with her eyes.

The two of them returned together to her chambers.

Once inside, she slumped into a chair with a heavy sigh, kicked off her leather boots, sending them flying into a corner, and spoke in irritation. "Those mana fluctuations you sensed earlier were all from the Church. A bunch of useless fools. They mobilized so many people, and yet they couldn't even touch a single hair of the thief who stole from us. That tier-diamond skill scroll we managed to obtain with so much effort is probably lost for good."

Alan gave a helpless chuckle. Not wanting her to notice anything suspicious, he quickly steered the conversation elsewhere.

"Well, if it's gone, then it's gone. Maybe this is a trial from the God of Fate, something we're meant to face. All we can do is accept it. But hey, that scroll was extremely valuable. Surely the Church offered some kind of compensation?"

The princess let out a cold snort. "The Church? That group of stingy old cocks? Not a chance—"

Before she could finish, a servant suddenly rushed into the room and bowed respectfully before announcing, "Commander, Bishop Isaac has requested an audience."

Alan grinned. "Well, I guess we're about to get our answer, aren't we?"

The Third Princess frowned but said nothing more. She motioned for the servant to let Isaac in.

Isaac entered the chamber with a slightly nervous expression, but what surprised him even more was the presence of a man—Alan—within the private quarters of the high and mighty Third Princess, the commanding officer of Ironblood City.

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Still, he dared not probe further. This involved royal dignity, after all.

"Third Princess—no, Commander. I hope you've been well," Isaac greeted cautiously.

The Third Princess lightly tapped the table with her fingers, eyeing him like a blade. "I've been just fine. But I'd be even better if the Church returned my scroll. Don't you agree, Bishop Isaac?"

Her gaze was so sharp it seemed to flay him where he stood.

Isaac bowed deeply. "Commander, we've already deployed the Church's main forces to hunt down that damned thief. I believe it's only a matter of time before we—"

"Silence!"

The Third Princess suddenly stood, slamming her palm hard on the table.

"Since I was a child, I've heard people tell me the same thing. 'Just a little longer.' 'Give it a few more days.' They all made promises. And every last one of them failed."

"Tell me, Bishop Isaac. Are you going to be the exception?"

Beads of sweat rolled down Isaac's forehead. The aura of Ironblood City's commander was far more terrifying than he had expected.

"I… I can only say… we'll do our utmost…"

The Third Princess's face grew colder. She waved dismissively. "If that's all you came to say, then we have nothing more to discuss."

"Guards—see him out."

At her call, the same servant who had left earlier returned and, without a word, pushed Isaac to the ground.

Desperate, Isaac suddenly shouted, "Wait! Please wait, Commander! I've come prepared. If we truly can't recover the scroll, the Church is willing to pay thirty million gold coins in compensation."

That number made Alan's eyes light up. After all, during the last auction, even the Permafrost World artifact had only started at thirty million.

But the Third Princess wasn't moved at all.

"Thirty million?" she sneered. "Bishop Isaac, do you take me for a child that you can fool so easily? That scroll was left behind by the Forbidden Magus Nicolas himself. Anyone with a brain knows it's worth far more than that!"

What was strange, however, was that the previously anxious Isaac seemed to calm down after seeing her reaction. He composed himself and said, "There's nothing we can do. That's all the Church has on hand. Even if you beat me to death here and now, you won't squeeze another coin from us."

"Of course, we know this money means little to someone like you. That's why our superiors instructed me to convey this as well: so long as you and your troops remain stationed in Ironblood City, no matter what trouble arises, the Church of Steam and Magic will offer full support in resolving it."

The Third Princess stepped forward, staring him dead in the eyes. Her voice was low and biting. "So you think you can make up for money with manpower? Sounds just like something the Church would say. But I've always preferred solving problems on my own. When your people get involved, all they do is make a bigger mess."

"And don't forget, Bishop Isaac—"

She placed a firm hand on his shoulder and patted it twice with force.

"I'm not just the commander of Ironblood City. I'm also the Third Princess of the kingdom. What you owe me isn't personal. It's a national debt."

But Isaac remained unshaken, like a pig ready for slaughter, indifferent to boiling water.

Such is the world now—those who owe money act like nobles, while the creditors are the ones begging.

"National debt? Oh, Your Highness, you do know how to joke. As I recall, the Plantagenet Kingdom hasn't contributed a thing to the exploration of the small worlds. In fact, you even handed over exploration rights to the surrounding nations."

He smirked. "Besides, don't forget—our Church of Steam and Magic isn't just rooted here in Ironblood City. We have branches in every country. If you really want to go to war with us… well, let's just say no one will come out unscathed."

It was a threat. A naked, unabashed threat.

Alan couldn't take it anymore. He stood up and snapped, "Is this how the Church operates? You lose someone else's property and refuse to properly compensate them? That's outrageous!"

Isaac turned his head, looking at Alan with disdain.

"Outrageous? I think we're being quite generous. Over all these years, you're the first person to ever demand compensation from the Church. The fact that we're even offering something should be enough. And now you expect more?"

He then turned to the Third Princess again and sighed. "If there are no further objections, I'll take my leave. The money will be delivered shortly."

The Third Princess trembled with rage, unable to hold back the surging mana within her. It burst from her body, carving deep gashes into the very walls of the chamber.

Isaac was speaking on behalf of the Church, and clearly, the Church had made up its mind to deny responsibility.

Yet she was powerless.

As he had said, the Church of Steam and Magic was a massive organization spanning multiple nations. Even the powerful Plantagenet Kingdom would struggle if things turned hostile.

And that was the truth she couldn't ignore.