Chapter 1057: Act 229 – Princess Gloriana
The desolate night wind swept through the riverside woods like the ghostly fingers of a specter, making the leaves tremble. The sounds of birds and insects went silent, leaving only the rustling noise, like invisible footsteps wandering through the forest. The air carried a thick scent of blood; the battle on the main road—or rather, the one-sided massacre—had passed for quite some time. Finally, a shadow separated itself from behind a standing tree trunk. She cautiously approached the roadside and stared blankly at the site where the battle had transpired.
She never imagined that things would evolve to this extent. She had thought that the cultists would take that annoying woman away, leaving her to stand by without needing to intervene, and that everything would go according to her expectations.
But she witnessed an earth-shattering scene. To this day, she still didn’t know whether that cold-blooded monster who killed everyone was actually the Merchant Miss, who usually seemed a bit foolish and contemptible.
Who exactly was that being?
Delphine took a deep breath, the thick metallic scent rushing into her nostrils, prompting a wave of nausea to rise within her.
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to forget about it.
But even though she was trying to maintain her composure and the overall direction of events wasn’t too surprising to her, for some reason, her hands trembled slightly. She was afraid, an emotion rarely seen on her.
Since taking actual control of her family, Delphine thought she wouldn’t fear anything anymore; she buried any overly soft and unnecessary feelings long ago. Men were cold, but she was even more resolute and ruthless than they were.
Revenge was no different.
There was not a soul in sight on the main road—
The Chancellor’s Daughter slowly walked to the side of the road, where dark red, foul-smelling blood flowed like a stream at her feet, presenting a scene that could only be witnessed in a slaughterhouse.
Only the scattered bodies remained in the dust—more accurately, they should be called body parts: eyeballs, half a head, opened chests, and disconnected hands and feet, as if an outdoor butcher’s shop had been set up. The parts that once belonged to humanity were now dismembered and scattered about like rotten meat, pooling in a mixture of blood and sand, saturating the earth with a deep crimson hue, as if a rain of blood had fallen, and the ground was covered in bloody mud.
The air was thick with a strong stench of decay, reminiscent of a warehouse used for storing salted fish.
Delphine bent down, one hand pressing against her chest near her collarbone, finally retching. After a long while, she stood up with a pale face, swaying slightly, her mind clouded, uncertain whether her choices were right or wrong.
She stood frozen at the roadside for a while before resolutely turning around and walking into the Cat and Whiskers Inn.
“No matter what, that monster should have already entered the Imperial Capital, and I still need to finish the remaining tasks,” she thought.
The aura of Gaia’s divine blood had long dissipated in the inn, with only some residual glowing materials left on the ground and tables. Delphine carefully avoided those substances as she looked toward a statue in the center of the hall.
Cetty seemed to still retain the final appearance from when she was alive—eyes wide open, every minute expression on her face, every wrinkle in her clothing appeared lifelike.
It looked like the pinnacle work of a carving master who had poured his entire life’s energy into it.
In fact, in some remote areas, certain evil wizards indeed preferred to use living people as statues. The darkest of them even liked to collect beautiful maidens to complete this work.
Delphine silently gazed at the statue, unable to confirm whether it was alive or dead, but that didn’t matter. She came to a corner of the hall, retrieved a hammer from underneath the fireplace, and with all her strength, she heaved the hammer toward Cetty’s statue.
Regardless of whether it was dead or alive, one solid strike would prevent even the greatest wizard from reassembling the shattered statue, especially when the statue had once been a living person.
However, the anticipated scenario did not unfold. Just as the hammer, accompanied by a rushing wind, was about to make contact with the statue’s surface, the hammerhead suddenly exploded without warning. The Chancellor’s Daughter, wielding the hammer, seemed to crash into a rampaging dragon and was hurled back, crashing heavily against the wall on one side of the hall.
She let out a muffled cry before sliding down from the wall. She lifted her head, but before she could speak, blood spurted from her mouth.
She covered her mouth with her hand, instantly staining her fingers red.
Delphine, bleeding from her mouth and nose, looked around in panic and saw a mature woman exuding confidence walking in from outside. She gazed at the witch’s attire with disbelief, a flicker of oddly familiar recognition flashing in her eyes.
She felt as if she had seen this woman somewhere before.
“Where is Romaine?” the woman immediately asked as she entered, her tone icy.
“I don’t know…”
Delphine hadn’t finished speaking when she felt an invisible force tighten around her throat, lifting her off the ground. By the time she realized what was happening, her feet were off the ground, and waves of suffocation began to envelop her, nearly drowning her.
“No… it’s not me…”
The Chancellor’s Daughter rolled her eyes, gasping for breath like an asphyxiated goldfish. She tightened her hands around her throat, kicking futilely in the air.
She never expected that the first one to return was not Brendel, but a witch she had never seen before. Moreover, she didn’t anticipate that the woman would not give her a chance to defend herself, attacking her with the intent to kill immediately.
She had always been self-confident in her beauty and accustomed to the natural charm strangers felt towards her. Yet, even the most stunning appearance and body turned into an empty shell without a soul. She finally began to feel fear; the terror of death was so profound and vivid that warmth flooded her inner thigh, a wetness spreading down her slender legs.
A strange odor soon filled the hall.
But at that moment, Delphine pushed aside these trivial concerns. Her vision blurred with golden stars, and only one thought occupied her mind: No, I cannot die; I must survive!
The witch, however, paid no heed to her response, muttering incantations, seemingly reciting a lengthy spell. Although Delphine did not know magic, she was aware of certain mysterious means. In that final moment, clarity struck her mind as if divine inspiration had come. Exhaustedly, she shouted:
“I know you…”
“You’re Princess Gloriana…”
“I… I saw you at the Evergreen Festival thirteen years ago…”
The mature woman paused slightly, and the grip around Delphine’s throat loosened. Delphine, falling to the ground, felt the wetness beneath her from her accident, the cold sensation causing her immense shame and anger.
Even when nearly burned to a crisp, she had never felt this desperate.
She instinctively lowered her head in submission, not daring to look at the other.
But the woman took a moment to quietly regard her before speaking: “You are Nidwen’s granddaughter.”
Delphine did not nod, nor did she dare deny it, tacitly admitting it.
“Where is Romaine?” the woman asked again.
“She… she went to Rustra.”
“My niece, although careless, wouldn’t choose this time to go to Rustra.”
“There are cultists using divine blood to scheme against us. I hid in the kitchen and escaped an attack. Romaine killed everyone, then went to Rustra. I couldn’t keep up with her,” Delphine answered, half-truthfully. Of course, she wouldn’t dare speak the whole truth, yet she feared being exposed and couldn’t help but make soft clicking sounds with her teeth.
Seeing her disheveled state, the woman didn’t expose the half-truth lie but countered, “Romaine would kill?”
Delphine tightly clutched her wet skirt, her hands almost devoid of color: “I don’t know; she… she seems like a different person.”
“A different person?”
“Changed… unrecognizably, she seems to not know us at all, insisting on referring to us as mortals. I… I feel that is not her at all.” Delphine spoke in a low voice, not daring to hide the truth.
The woman fell silent for a moment, her expression unreadable. Suddenly, she raised her hand. Just as the Chancellor’s Daughter trembled, thinking the woman intended to kill her, she was astonished to see the statue standing in the center of the hall vanish into thin air.
The woman turned back to look at her: “You go find Brendel and tell him everything that happened here. Let him come find me.”
At that moment, Delphine truly felt fear. For some reason, she was unwilling to meet Brendel now. Noticing her hesitation, the woman sneered: “Only now do you think of fear? You’re far inferior to your grandfather. But you need not be afraid; just tell Brendel the truth and say who instructed you to find him.”
“Princess Gloriana?”
“No,” the woman shook her head. “It’s my other identity, Knudell, the follower of the Blind Maiden of Misa, the Witch of Fate. Tell him that the main star of the Harp constellation I previously showed him was merely an illusion. The Witch of Fate wields a domain of charm; deceiving hearts is an easy task.”
She paused before continuing, “If he still doesn’t believe, tell him I’m Romaine’s aunt, with firsthand knowledge of his childhood bedwetting, and if he wishes to marry my niece, he must first get past me; do you understand?”
“L-Lord?” The Chancellor’s Daughter nearly choked.
“Do you find it strange? This is a matter of life and death for noble honor. You should understand this, so he won’t do anything to you before he meets me.”
Delphine’s mind was a swirl of oddities.
…
“Crack—”
For a moment, Brendel felt as if his innards had shifted positions. He heavily crashed into a stone pillar, but the hard rock could not stop his momentum. The pillar crashed down, causing the hall to shake, collapsing half of it in an instant.
He fell like a shooting star among the mixed debris, the only thing he could do was hold tightly to the unconscious Medisa, until he crashed against a wall again. The force from behind made him feel as if all the bones in his body were dislocated.
However, he didn’t have time to breathe easy before he switched positions with the Silver Elf Princess, struggling to shield her beneath him. Moments later, the broken ceiling came crashing down, rubble mixed with mud pouring down and heavily pressing upon him.
With just that single hit, Brendel noticed that his displayed life points on the screen had decreased significantly. When he had witnessed the presence of the dragon and its two subordinates in the Evergreen corridor, he hadn’t felt the terrifying might of his opponents; only when facing them did this stark difference reveal itself.
The saintly domain, a field that no mortal had reached since the war against the saints, showcased the pride of both the Golden and Silver peoples in the looming fearsome gap.
An unreasonable crushing.
Brendel spat blood, staining the Silver Princess’s chest red, but he couldn’t be bothered. The Blade of Flame in his hand flashed forward, slashing a path beneath the crumbling ruins. Before the mud completely buried them, he shot out like a fleeting light.
Gwendolyn noticed Brendel’s movement right away. In fact, she barely moved; the entire Cavalry Headquarters and nearly a mile around it lay under the coverage of her law’s lines, like a giant web spun by a spider mother. Every minute twitch of the threads in that web responded truthfully to her perception.
She hesitated momentarily before relinquishing her urge to pursue the Nightmarish Queen. Although this rare Nightmare Mother was important, it paled in comparison to the young man before her.
At this moment, she was filled with immense anger; this Myad was truly more problematic than helpful. She had repeatedly advised him to avoid unnecessary troubles and merely subdue the patrolling cavalry in the city, yet he still acted recklessly, provoking the Nightmare Mother and costing his life.
Losing twelve high priests did not faze her, but the Nightmare Mother was a rare treasure the Tree Shepherds had painstakingly found on the battlefield of the Final War.
“What a pity,” Gwendolyn thought, raising her hand, preparing to cast her web, but hesitated. She couldn’t bear to abandon the Nightmare Mother and instead retracted her hand, lightly stroking a crystal embedded in her chest, which suddenly emitted a faint glow.
“Andisha, the Nightmare Mother has escaped. Put aside your other tasks and go find it.”
“My Lady, Myad…?”
“You don’t need to worry about that fool. Be careful; the Nightmare Mother seems to have been startled by something. When you find it, do not act recklessly. Inform me when you arrive.”
There was a brief silence on the other end of the crystal before the reply came: “Understood, My Lady.”
The Dragon Queen then returned to her senses. She had long been aware of Brendel’s identity as a traveling mage and was not worried about him suddenly disappearing from her perception. The Silver Queen and the mortals around her could do nothing against the Divine People, but that didn’t mean the Golden people were the same.
The former Chunximan and Odin were not invincible, and although the means by which travel mages utilized energy were mysterious, they were not without traces. Under the coverage of the web of laws, that young man was still unable to escape detection.
However, as she meticulously searched the extensive web she had cast, the expression on her face suddenly froze unnaturally.
She was astonished to discover that Brendel had truly vanished completely from her perception, as if he had never existed.
“Damn it, what’s going on?”
