The Coming Storm

From Shien's perspective, he could not sense even the faintest breath or sign of life from Harvis at this moment.

Other than the magic power that had gathered around him without dispersing and the faint deathly aura emanating from him, there was almost nothing about Harvis that suggested he was alive.

Looking at Harvis like this, Capeline turned to an elderly man in ceremonial robes beside her with a sorrowful expression.

"High Priest, has my brother's condition still not improved?"

Capeline asked him this.

He was the High Priest of the Imperial Capital's temple, the leader of all the Empire's clergy, a temple mage of level eighty-nine.

Only then did Shien learn that not every leader of a temple could be called a Pope.

Pope was a title bestowed only upon the clergy member most trusted by the God Race and most revered for their virtue. There could only be one Pope in any given generation.

The current Pope was Yule, the Legendary-tier expert of the Royal Capital's temple, who led all the Kingdom's clergy and held a status equal to the King.

As for the Empire's leader of the clergy, he was merely the High Priest of the Imperial Capital's temple.

This High Priest had been secretly observing Shien ever since he saw him. Only now did he turn to Capeline and let out a bitter laugh.

"My deepest apologies, Your Highness Capeline. As you can see, Prince Harvis is neither injured nor afflicted by a curse. He has been eroded by a vast amount of deathly aura and refined by necromancy into a living dead, half-human and half-corpse. Saving His Highness Harvis would be no different from resurrecting the dead. Not even Pope Yule of the Royal Capital's temple could turn this around, let alone me."

With a