Chapter 608: Act 351 – Requiem I
“Daddy… Daddy… save me…”
The young girl crawled while crying, her small face smeared with a mix of snot and tears, her once white dress now stained black, soaked in a dark red color.
The village outside Brnoan Watchtower was as if painted in blood. The streets, beside the wells, and everywhere in sight were marked with bloodstains. Demons from the River of Sulfur strung up those who could not escape on hooks and dragged them out of their homes, brutally torturing them before hanging them on trees in the village. The little girl screamed for her father, but perhaps her father had already become one of these unfortunate souls.
However, the demons seemed to be toying with this small prey, deriving great pleasure from the girl’s anxiety and fear. They made her struggle through pools of blood and mud, but every time she crawled a little distance, a Hellhound would come up and bite her pale little leg, dragging her back.
The girl screamed and struggled, and nearby little demons laughed uproariously. To them, it was like a feast; they pulled a barely-breathing maiden from a pile of corpses, grasped her flaxen hair with their claws, and then used sharp knives to slice open her chest, extracting her heart amid splattering blood, devouring it greedily.
When the girl witnessed this scene, she was completely paralyzed with fear. As a Hellhound approached her, seemingly losing interest, it bit down on her, shaking its massive head, her lifeless body swaying like a broken doll.
But just at this moment, a gigantic hellish creature, towering like a giant wolf with a huge collar, suddenly raised its head, shaking its ears, its flame-filled eyes revealing a wary expression. A sharp arrow whistled through the night sky from afar, slicing through wind and rain, striking directly into its smoke-filled nostrils, causing the sulfurous creature to emit a cry of agony, its entire body flipping backward.
A Lady Knight rushed out from the rain, her sword gleaming with a cold light. Hate flickered in her eyes as she lifted the Hellhound’s chin with one hand. Flames erupted from the creature’s fur, burning her fingers, but gritting her teeth, she shoved the sword upwards, driving it deep into the hilt.
“Die, demon, go back to your hell!”
The Hellhound let out a mournful wail as a stream of hot, foul blood erupted from its throat wound, splattering Freya’s face.
Then more knights burst forth from the rain, Beth wielding a longbow, taking down the little demons one by one from a distance. These red-skinned devils were barely on par with the black iron, and did not even measure up to the Hellhound Freya had slain.
As the knights passed by Freya, they loudly called out the name of the Lady Knight. But Freya seemed to have lost all her strength, heavily dropping the Hellhound’s corpse to the ground. She then bent down, carefully picking up the little girl, who from neck to chest was a bloody mess, her eyes half-closed, her mouth gasping for breath as she tried to emit a small sound amidst the blood foam and fragments of her innards:
“Sister… it hurts…”
Freya bit her lip tightly, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. This scene felt familiar; it had played out in Buche, in Erluin, and many other places. She had lived through it, suffered the same pain. The flames of war burned across the land, but it would not be the kingdom’s nobles enduring the torment; it would be the common people.
For the past year, it seemed the kingdom had returned to peace, but the same agony repeated again and again. This time, it was the Cruz people and the northern nobles who brought such calamity. Who would it be next time?
Erluin was powerless to change it, just as she was powerless to save the little girl in her arms. Freya felt that she could only weakly watch her die, the girl eventually losing her warmth in her embrace.
“Brendel, what should I do…” Freya softly laid her down, unable to help but murmur.
She turned her head, and Beth had already come up behind the Lady Knight, gently patting her back. “Freya, this is war; you must learn to get used to it,” she sighed in response.
“But when will Erluin end this war?”
“When it becomes strong enough, strong enough that no one can manipulate our fate.”
“One day,” Beth replied resolutely, “the princess will surely do this, no longer relying on those decaying northern nobles.”
Really? Freya couldn’t help but remember what Brendel had once told her, but weren’t the royalists still nobles? Did those nobles truly understand such pain? The more she understood, the darker and deeper history appeared to her, like a giant maw ready to swallow her whole. Yet she recalled the steadfast eyes from the flames of Buche. Why was Brendel always so confident?
The fog that bewildered everyone seemed nonexistent to him. Had he perhaps seen the other side of history, the inevitable conclusion?
The girl stared blankly.
…
The battlefield of Brnoan resembled a burnt frying pan; amidst the charred earth stood sticks far and wide, some still retaining tattered flags. Scattered around were hot, burnt pieces of armor, and everywhere were the mangled bodies of humans—hands, feet, or other parts missing.
The demon offensive had finally subsided, but it left an unparalleled shock in the hearts of the people. The broken soldiers gradually retreated, finally rebuilding a defensive line after retreating nearly four or five miles. The genius of the harbor, Viscount Feng Dogenning, watched the distant pits with clenched teeth. When that batch of northern coalition leaders cried for a retreat, he should have killed them all with a single blow. What a bunch of cowards.
He had the fortune of surviving the battle of Malgauge, though captured and quickly exchanged, leaving him quite embarrassed. Thus, he desperately needed a victory to prove himself. A soldier’s glory lay in advancing, especially in wars like this. Slaying more demons would be the key for future promotions.
But the demons’ attack was terrifying; Viscount Feng Dogenning didn’t know if he had any chance left. Bright fires burned on the horizon, and it felt as though the pouring rain was made of grease, making the flames even more dazzling. The Brnoan Watchtower was finished; he didn’t care how many had died there or who had died; it didn’t matter to him, but he understood that this defensive line was now precarious.
He saw several knights in the White Lion army walking past; those White Lions seemed to be organizing a counterattack. He couldn’t help but spit; this battle was unbearable, not even knowing the enemy’s fighting style. The commanders were a bunch of fools.
Viscount Feng Dogenning couldn’t resist looking up at the sky. His gaze couldn’t penetrate the rain curtain, but he could still see the shadow of Erluin’s Royal First Fleet hanging in mid-air. His gaze was deep, and for a moment he didn’t know what he was thinking.
Earl Yanilasu adjusted his pocket watch for the last time—
The fleet had fully deployed northward toward the stationed demon army, with all cannon ports opened on the ship, like countless dark eyes staring back. The sun had completely sunk below the horizon, with darkness enveloped by the heavy rain, rendering visibility near zero.
Yet in the sky, a thin line of remaining light, mixed with flickering flames, shone through.
This light fell upon the Earl’s resolute face, outlining several straight lines. The middle-aged man turned and glanced at the Cruz people, “Fifteen more minutes.”
Almost all the senior officers of the coalition, Cruz people, and Erluin people, were now gathered on the deck. Under High Priest Wood’s watch, Charles placed a crystal ball in the center, on which the image of Brendel appeared.
At the same time, Brendel was also looking at Wood’s image on the crystal ball placed on a parchment map by Babasha.
“Brendel, in fifteen minutes, the Cruz and Erluin will launch a full-scale attack against the demon army, which is several times larger than that from the River of Sulfur. We will attract their attention for you,” Wood, dressed in the high priest’s robe, said solemnly, “but can you really find a way to dismantle those Flame Gates?”
“I can’t guarantee it,” Brendel replied seriously. “But we both understand what will happen if I don’t succeed, so we must act.”
“I, and you—both have to,” he smiled slightly.
Wood stared deeply at Brendel.
If he could, this was one of the faces he least wanted to see. This plan of Ampere Seale had almost become his nightmare. The situation at the harbor had completely deteriorated; if the northern coalition could not defeat the demons, the Cruz Empire and the Temple of Fire would likely pay a heavy price together.
There were three Flame Gates, and no one knew better than he what this entailed. No, there was perhaps one person who understood at least as well as he did. Wood fixed his gaze on Brendel, puzzled why this young man knew so much about the insider secrets.
As soon as Brendel spoke, the northern nobles erupted:
“Is this guy trying to shirk responsibility?”
“High Priest, if he can’t guarantee it, what’s the point of our desperate charge against the demons here? It’s completely foolish.”
“Is the princess trying to consume the strength of our allies?”
“Or we should wait for reinforcement; the Temple of Fire won’t abandon us.”
Meanwhile, on the other side of the crystal ball, Princess Grifian had also yanked Brendel’s sleeve. She looked at him angrily and asked, “Mister Brendel, you said we should take advantage of the situation.”
“They are demons, Your Highness.”
“I know, but you don’t need to take unnecessary risks,” the princess restrained her anger. “Mister Brendel, we can eventually defeat them! I do not support your acts of personal heroism; while romantic, it is not the right course of action!”
Brendel sighed and gently adjusted the disheveled strands of hair on the princess’s forehead, a move that stunned everyone around. Even the princess herself froze, but Brendel didn’t care. To be honest, he didn’t know if he would live to return from this mission.
From the moment he made his decision, he understood the battle he was about to face.
“Have you ever seen a real demon army, Your Highness?” he asked softly.
…
“Have you seen a real demon army, a bunch of fools?” Wood slowly turned back, anger evident in his voice. The northern nobles, arrogant as they were, still had to bow before the Temple of Fire, and for a moment, everyone fell silent.
“Demons are the arch enemies of order and civilization, Your Highness. They are unruly; though not under the Duskgazer Dragon, they are born of chaos. They exist to tear apart everything; all beautiful and cherished things are their enemies. And their enjoyment is built upon the pain and despair of mortals.”
“The temple fights against the heretics, not to suppress opposing voices. Those who follow the Duskgazer, the chaotic believers, aim to tear apart this world, making our world cease to exist. Yet some individuals here today, some nobles who should bear the responsibility of guiding the populace—foolishly ignore this, which is regrettable.”
“Does anyone remember the demon calamity of the Four Realms? The demons that surged forth from the opened portal destroyed everything; an entire kingdom vanished, nearly all living beings perished. Who came to save them? No one. Even the temple could not do so. Your Highness, have you seen demons treading on the earth, their sulfurous flames burning everything in their wake?”
“I have seen it; at that time, I was not yet a high-ranking official of the temple. Millions of demons descended upon this world, and it took the temple ten years of effort to drive them back to the River of Sulfur.”
“Today, Erluin faces the same fate.”
“Back then, at the borders of Antobru, it was just a crack. And today, there are three complete portals.” Wood spoke quietly, not afraid of disclosing the temple’s secrets, for if today’s events did not conclude well, his political life would end completely and he would become a sinner.
More importantly, the reputation of the Temple of Fire would bear unimaginable blows.
On the other side, Brendel paused, deciding to reveal the truth: “Your Highness, Erluin will become a wasteland. While perhaps one day we can rebuild it, there is still a glimmer of opportunity, isn’t there?”
There were millions of lives at stake; perhaps they had nothing to do with him. He wouldn’t see them endure the agony in flames, wouldn’t witness their painful deaths, and wouldn’t even hear their wails before death.
Everything seemed so unrelated to him. He could still carry out his plans methodically, reshaping this ancient kingdom atop the ruins.
At least Valhalla was still standing, wasn’t it?
Perhaps so. But Brendel couldn’t convince himself to ignore it. He could tell himself not to see it all, but he couldn’t deceive his own innermost feelings.
Everyone was constantly trying to escape, yet within everyone’s heart dwelled the truest self, telling them what is right and what is wrong.
No one is born a hero, but at least now one can still make a desperate gamble. Just like he who had experienced everything understood, there is only one thing in this world that cannot be compensated.
That is regret.
The princess stared at him, bewildered.
“Mister Brendel, you…”
“Your Highness, you said you would believe in me.”
“You…” Princess Grifian bit her lip, struggling slightly, but ultimately let go: “Alright, I understand…”
Brendel nodded at her, then turned back to look at the image of High Priest Wood in the crystal ball. “It seems we have come to an agreement; congratulations, High Priest.”
Wood nodded, but inside he sighed slightly. The High Priest couldn’t help but lower his eyelids; perhaps it was a bit too reckless. He should have never allowed all this to occur from the beginning.
“May Lady Martha in heaven bless us, and may Erluin’s fortune not be exhausted.” He had never wished so deeply for Erluin to continue existing—at least as a Cruz person, and as the High Priest of the temple, today perhaps was the day he wished most earnestly for this country to continue to exist.
Brendel smiled slightly, “Yes, let’s hope the Temple of Fire hasn’t gone too far against the will of the late King Gilt; otherwise, it would be too unfair if I got involved in a bad situation—”
Wood snorted quietly.
…
(PS: While coding, Falo was slaughtering pigs, and I found out I dropped the line! It’s down now! H-pig, come and take your life!) (To be continued. If you like this work, please support me with recommendations or monthly votes on qidian.com; your support is my biggest motivation.)
