Chapter 1037: Act 209 – The Dawn’s Flame X
The void receded like the tide.
The night was deep as water, with the windows open and the curtains dancing like ghosts. The candles had extinguished at some unknown moment, and moonlight poured into the room like silver threads.
“Do you believe her?” After a long silence, Sidney asked.
Brendel was silent. “She didn’t tell a lie.”
But that was all; not telling a lie didn’t mean she had good intentions. A lie didn’t mean one had malicious intent, and the truth could also hide deadly traps behind it.
Both of them were not rookies; they understood this principle in their hearts.
“So, what do you plan to do?”
“Our plan needs to change as well,” Brendel replied. “I will go call Charles and Medephis. Lady Sidney, could you please notify the ladies?”
The saint of the Lion’s Saint Palace nodded.
Outside the window loomed the giant shadows of the imperial capital.
Yet under the shadows thrived not a prosperous soil; since the civil war began, the aura of prosperity had long faded from this thousand-year-old city, leaving only unspoken scars.
The people living here did not understand why the Empire was at war; most of them had never even heard the name Mardos. Although missionaries distributed flyers on the streets every day, and compulsory worship sessions were held each week to proclaim Her Majesty the Queen’s justice and the so-called history.
But that all felt too distant.
They did not understand why they had to get caught up in this whirlpool for an elusive goal. Had the sages made a mistake? How could that be?
The pride of the descendants of the Flame Queen was built upon a stance of justice; how could they inherit the dark empire of the past?
What qualifications did they have?
They did not understand why they had to slaughter each other for all this.
This was a civil war of the Empire, with the blood of the Crusian people flowing.
Every day, someone died—wives lost husbands, parents lost children, and children lost fathers, as well as dear friends of others.
More people disappeared on the battlefield, with no trace left behind.
Some of their kin perished at the hands of the Lionmen from Jotungrund and Toquinin, but the Queen did not grant them corresponding honors, instead dubbing them traitors.
Many were secretly grateful to the Crown Prince and that Earl from Erluin they had never met, as these two avenged them.
Later, these people were dragged out by the witches and hanged for treason.
Life became increasingly difficult.
Many longed for the old days when this imperial capital was rich in resources, and everyone lived well, proud to be citizens of the Empire, without bearing the pain of loss.
And now? The glory was gone, and every day the supplies transported to the capital had to be prioritized for Her Majesty’s celebrations.
The noble circles were still eagerly discussing the upcoming engagement ceremony of the Lady Earl, but at the bottom of this Empire, enthusiasm faded day by day.
Until one day, all voices fell silent.
In the darkness, only silent expressions remained.
The road was watching.
After eight o’clock, shadows began to appear on the dim and deep streets.
They wore different colors: some were the poor, some were tailors, some were candlemakers, cobblers, or butchers, and even low-ranking officials and soldiers.
But their only common trait was their silence.
Like a group of ghosts.
Two city guards who were on watch saw this scene and felt as if they were looking at legendary monsters; they shivered.
“Today there are more people…” one soldier whispered uneasily.
“What about the patrolling cavalry? Why hasn’t anyone come to manage this…?”
“Don’t be ridiculous; would they dare to intervene? Those soft-shell shrimp only dare to bully their own.”
“But, captain…”
“Hush, lower your voice. Have you forgotten about that city gate guard?”
The soldier who spoke felt a chill down his back and instinctively fell silent.
Of course, he remembered that person—still a young man, a bit of an outsider. He merely dispersed the assembly of these people a week ago, and his corpse was found in the woods outside the city.
Since the murderer couldn’t be traced, it ultimately came to nothing.
He had also heard that the number of missing guards had increased recently; although the news spread only privately, the occasional whispers still made him, a low-ranking city guard, feel uneasy.
“Besides,” the captain spoke again, with an angry tone, “what good does it do us to manage this? My brother died in Anzeruta; what happened to him next? The Queen calls them traitors; I absolutely do not believe he betrayed us. And now that damned palace steward wants to investigate me on this pretext; does he think I don’t know he’s trying to arrange a position for his nephew?”
He spat with resentment.
The soldier fell silent.
He wanted to retort, but he didn’t know what to say. Was the captain wrong? What was happening now was indeed a fact.
He even thought that perhaps it would be better to lose this job. The atmosphere in the city grew stranger by the day; one could lose their head because of it any day.
But what would he do without this job? Life was getting harder every day; people were already starving to death in the slums. If he lost his job, how would he support his family?
It was like an inextricable knot, stifling and suffocating.
Why was it like this?
What was wrong with the Empire?
“The Empire is sick…” A man in a long cloak, hiding his face, passed by the two and glanced back at them. His snake-like pupils sent a chill down their spines. It seemed he was quite satisfied with the resentment in the soldiers’ eyes, and after dropping this line, he walked away.
“Madman!” the captain cursed.
The soldier hurriedly grabbed him.
“You don’t need to hold me back; I won’t stoop to the level of such a person,” the captain replied angrily. “Don’t believe his words; even if times are tough, these hooded guys are even less trustworthy.”
The soldier silently watched the direction in which the man had left.
Was the Empire truly sick?
But if the Empire wasn’t sick, how could everything have turned into this?
“Cetty!”
The candlemaker’s daughter heard someone calling her name among the crowd. Turning back, she saw Alser, a handsome young man she was infatuated with.
“Al!”
Cetty finally snapped back to reality from her reverie. She wanted to ask Al if the Empire was really sick; otherwise, why would her brother have died in the south?
Why did there need to be a war?
But she understood that Al didn’t like discussing such matters; he actually despised those missionaries, but he hated all of this even more.
“The ceremony is about to start,” Al waved to her. “This way.”
Cetty quickly nodded and squeezed through the crowd to follow him.
…
“Today… we are here… to end…”
“This all…”
The voice of the speaker came through intermittently.
The crowd gathered more and more, as some individuals in black robes passionately gave speeches, and the agitation swept through the crowd like ripples on water.
Brendel and his group crossed the street, quietly watching all of this.
There were five of them: Charles, Brendel, Medephis, Andrigraphis, and finally Faina, all cloaked in long robes with hoods pulled up, looking quite similar to those speaking in the crowd.
In fact, they had been mistaken for those individuals several times along the way, and the surrounding citizens bowed respectfully to them, which was an unexpected coincidence.
“This is the capital of the Empire; it’s amazing,” Charles exclaimed. “It truly lives up to its reputation. Those guys have quite the knack for rallying people; it’s almost comparable to my charm magic.”
“It wasn’t like this before…” Faina’s expression was not good. Although she was born in Mehotofen, she had learned and grown in this city, and seeing this proud city of the Empire transform into its current state made her feel bad.
“Something is bound to happen,” Charles couldn’t help but shake his head.
Brendel also felt a sense of foreboding, but he found it strange that the city guards and patrolling cavalry remained indifferent. Did the Silver Queen really lose control even beneath her own eyes?
Didn’t she have witches serving her?
“Kill him…”
“This queen’s dog!”
A commotion erupted from the street ahead.
Brendel and the others were momentarily stunned, only to find that the crowd had gathered together, with two people being surrounded and beaten by the surrounding individuals.
“Charles, separate them.”
“My Lord, we don’t need to stir up trouble.”
“They’re blocking our way,” Brendel replied irritably.
Charles shrugged, stretched out his fingers, and recited a spell. An invisible force radiated from his palm, causing the citizens to involuntarily part left and right.
Revealing two individuals trapped in the center, judging by their attire, they appeared to be patrolling cavalry.
One of them was in a relatively good condition, while the other lay on the ground, near death.
Once the red-eyed citizens were pushed apart by Charles, they wanted to rush in again, but upon seeing Brendel and his party, they instinctively halted.
“By the way, who chose this outfit?” Charles couldn’t help but admire. “It’s surprisingly correct.”
“Weren’t you the one who said this robe looks like it’s worn by bad people?”
“Ah,” Charles suddenly realized. “My Lord, so this was your idea.”
Brendel couldn’t be bothered to respond. He approached the two individuals. The injured patrolling knight struggled to stand, yelling at them:
“You damned cultists! I don’t need your pity. You killed Charles; if you have the guts, come kill me!”
“Pfft,” Faina, although in a bad mood, couldn’t help but laugh.
“That poor fellow shares your name,” Brendel teased.
“Shut your crow’s mouth—” Charles, feeling embarrassed, vented his anger on the knight. “Your friend isn’t dead yet.”
“What did you say?”
“I said your friend still has a breath left,” Charles replied irritably. “If you don’t want him to die, just hurry and take him to find a doctor!”
The knight’s expression changed. Forgetting to curse Brendel and the others, he looked at Charles with confusion for a moment before choosing to trust his words and quickly carried his companion and limped away.
Brendel watched the two’s retreating figures, then glanced at the surrounding confused gazes and the faces twisted by hatred, shaking his head.
Faina was right; the capital was not originally like this. He had visited here once in another world.
At that time, it was a prosperous place, albeit filled with excess, but it wasn’t the lifeless state it found itself in now.
What had brought all of this about?
Suddenly, he felt a pang of melancholy.
“What did you say we fight for, Charles?”
“Naturally, we fight for Erluin,” Charles replied as if it were obvious. “What’s wrong with that?”
“The Silver Queen also has her own ideals,” Brendel countered. “What she does isn’t necessarily wrong. However, what then?”
“Facts have proven that what she does is wrong,” Charles answered. “Isn’t everything happening right now the best proof?”
“However, our fight for Erluin has also brought war to Erluin,” Brendel turned to look at this earliest follower of his and asked, “We have never been missing limbs in battle, but others have lost everything in this war. For them, is everything we have done right?”
“Well…”
“This question is really laughable,” Andrigraphis couldn’t help but interject at this moment, sarcastically remarking to Brendel, “If someone has a knife to your neck, do you have time to debate whether the war is right or wrong?”
“Only winners and losers, life and death.”
Indeed, the war for resistance and survival was just.
However, the downfall of Erluin might be a historical inevitability, yet choosing this path did not come without a price paid by many.
Was everything he had done really justifiable?
This question reverberated in Brendel’s heart again and again.
“Brendel,” Faina spoke up at this moment. “This question has the best answer right now.”
Brendel looked at the young lady in confusion.
“Just look at these people, and you’ll understand what everything you’ve done has brought to those who benefited from it. What the Queen has done has brought them what?” Faina replied. “It’s clear as day.”
“My teacher once taught me that the advancement of history and the progress of civilization is to pursue happiness.”
“To protect all of this, people have never hesitated to sacrifice.”
Brendel suddenly felt a glimmer of understanding in his heart.
Perhaps this is the true meaning of the Way of the Golden Flame.
The intention of resistance is not for slaughter and hatred but to pursue and protect something more beautiful.
Cold Fir Territory, Duke Toniger, and Erluin—
Did he have confidence to make this country better?
Yes.
He had confidence.
If so, then he could move forward.
At that moment, a vision suddenly unfolded before Brendel’s eyes, and he saw a scene he once witnessed in Valhalla.
In the light, Martha laid her hand on his shoulder, pointing at his forehead, and said to him:
“I will give you wings made of light, so that you can be called a king.”
“One day, I will bring you glory.”
This was glory—
He raised his head, fully understanding the faith carried by the Sword of Flame.
“Let’s go,” Brendel replied. “Ahead is the Autumn Dew Manor.”
“Let us meet with Her Majesty the Queen—”
