Chapter 148: Act 81 – The Turbulence and the Story of Fish (Part 3)
The battle seemed to end as soon as it began.
Aike could almost be certain that those individuals cloaked in black robes had at least the strength of high silver, but he had anticipated the event’s occurrence without being able to foresee its outcome—
He was nearly convinced that Cabut and the others would be bloodied on the spot when his emotions surged, and he couldn’t help but draw his sword to intervene.
However, the elderly man with white hair who stepped out from behind Cabut merely waved his hand, and several grayish beams flickered for a moment—those figures he had regarded as nightmares were reduced to a pile of dust.
The young man gaped, momentarily unsure if he was dreaming.
As the old man cast his spell, the sacred runes of earth faintly manifested on his palm—a wizard wielding elemental power—Aike, despite his limited experience, knew there were no more than ten such individuals in the entire Erluin. Among these ten, some were illustrious high wizards, others were lords, and the rest included the masters of the Black Tower and the Council of Stars and Moons.
Who was he?
Then he saw Cabut bowing respectfully and saying to the old man, “Master Livwz, thank you for your efforts.”
This sentence was like a clap of thunder, leaving Aike frozen in a motion that had been charged with urgency moments before. In Erluin, there were many called Livwz, but only one was entitled to be addressed as a master.
Livwz? Hardwilla? Gemel.
Erluin’s chief court wizard, a veteran who had assisted Anzen VII through three dynasties.
Aike’s mind grew muddled; he simply couldn’t comprehend why such a significant person would appear in this remote location. Moreover, it seemed he was here to help them.
“Th-this…” The young man stammered, pointing at the elderly man, “Y-you are…”
The old man nodded, acknowledging his guess, and replied, “This is a long story, Mr. Aike. Let Knight Cabut take us to a safe place, and I will explain in detail.”
“Knight… Cabut?” Aike looked at Cabut, feeling as if the world had turned upside down.
…
Brendel and his group climbed the silent mountains to the east, the footsteps of their fifteen-strong team rustling through the dense thicket like an invisible long snake gliding through the pitch-blackness; but looking back, the sight of occasional flickering lights in the forest below revealed that what once was a brightly lit camp was now left with only a few glowing embers in the darkness.
“Our horses are still in the camp, Brendel.”
This was already the third time Roman had asked this; Brendel knew how much she cared for her little steed and couldn’t help but smile and shake his head.
“They’ll return, right, Brendel?” The business lady’s eyes reflected the distant firelight, shimmering brightly; she turned her head back, lifting her pale chin to ask.
She understood Brendel’s implication.
But Roman was still just a soft-hearted young girl. Although she knew she and her aunt were not particularly welcomed among the villagers, the land that nurtured her was undeniably her hometown.
Therefore, she was still willing to assist Freya in rebuilding Buche—
“Only Lady Martha would know for sure,” Brendel replied. Whether the Grey Wolf Mercenary Corps would follow in the footsteps of history did not lie in his hands but in whether he could sway the views of the Maned Wolf, Macaro.
“But they must have sensed this was a trap; they should be on guard—” Roman asked, “Brendel, aren’t you the one who said Macaro is a clever guy?”
“Too clever, in fact.” Brendel knew that before Macaro became a free mercenary, this Maned Wolf was known for his cunning; he had been the chief strategist of the royal reformists. If not for the political struggle eleven years ago, he wouldn’t have fallen to this state.
“So they’re calculating each other, then,” Antinna inquired.
“Pretty much.”
“I really don’t understand what their motive is.” The noble maiden couldn’t help but propose another hypothesis, “Could there really be some secret in this forest that is enticing enough?”
Brendel smiled; there was a secret, but it wasn’t compelling enough. Besides, the parties fighting probably didn’t care about that; they were concerned with something else.
His smile caught Antinna’s attention, and the young girl immediately asked, “You know something, don’t you, my lord?”
Brendel nodded.
“A few days ago, we saw that young man; do you remember?” he said, “His real name should be Aike Lantonrand Ophelia.”
“That name sounds familiar.”
“Naturally, you must have heard of Kano Lantonrand Ophelia.”
Roman and the other mercenaries were fine; however, the noble maiden couldn’t help but cough violently after hearing that, and it took her a while before she turned pale and asked breathlessly, “The Duke of Lantonrand?”
“Aike is also of noble rank, Count Meluack, and that is a title with territory.” Brendel narrowed his eyes, “But he probably doesn’t even know that himself.”
“This is…” Antinna couldn’t help but ask, “Does it have anything to do with the political struggle eleven years ago? By the way, didn’t the Duke of Lantonrand’s son go missing long ago—”
She abruptly stopped, looking at Brendel with a strange expression.
“My lord, how do you know this so well?”
“An open secret.” Brendel said casually.
“So, this means…”
“Still an open secret; Erluin is no longer the Erluin of the past; its leadership has decayed to a point unworthy of repair. In fact, it is already beyond saving.” Brendel looked at the noble maiden, intending to make a statement in front of her.
“Not just us who realize this; mark my words, Miss Antinna. In less than three months, this country will fall apart. What you see now is merely its temporary struggle before collapse.”
Though these words might not yet sound like treason in this world, the ambition they contained was still evident.
“Is the Corvado dynasty still salvageable?” Antinna asked, still thinking of the name that once brought glory to Erluin.
“Perhaps so.” Brendel thought of the regent princess.
“What should we do, my lord?” Antinna interrupted his thoughts and asked quietly.
“For now, we need to find the Philosopher’s Stone.” Brendel looked at the distant rolling hills—the mountains intertwined, forming different dark silhouettes against the night—but the young man’s gaze seemed to penetrate these obstacles, as if he had already seen the target, and he answered succinctly and powerfully.
The young man led the group up to the mountain top; the wind struck his face, suddenly increasing in intensity, as if a moving stream of air was howling down from the southern mountain pass, sweeping through the forest and lifting his cloak.
Brendel sniffed the scent in the wind; he stared at the dark and silent valley on the other side of the slope, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes, which quickly morphed into realization: “Sure enough, it’s here. It seems these fellows aren’t joking around when it comes to key matters—”
And as others heard his exclamation, they all turned their gazes toward him.
“Do you see that valley below?”
“Is there a problem?” Roman asked curiously.
“Um…” Brendel extended his hand from under the cloak, pointing his finger at the valley—but looking in the direction he was indicating, everyone saw only a layer of dark carpet formed by the forest along the mountainside. The young man turned his head back, a glint of light shining in his eyes, “Have you heard of an altar?”
“An altar?”
“If we’re talking about altars,” Roman replied seriously, “When I was younger, I saw the altar in the Temple of Fire with my aunt; was it like that?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then you must have heard of a ‘nest,’ right?”
Everyone fell silent, which was natural.
“There should be a nest in that valley.”
“What?”
The mercenary captain behind him jumped; everyone knew that a nest was a nation’s potential for war. But few understood that besides artificial biological nests, wild nests within a hundred miles were dangerous forbidden zones—in fact, humans often paid a great price to purify a nest.
“What level of nest is it?” he immediately asked.
“Don’t panic,” Brendel signaled him to be quiet. He looked at the entire valley, pausing for a moment. “That is an Order altar; if I’m not mistaken, it’s the Sanctuary of Truth.”
“An Order altar?”
“Have you heard of the Gate of Heaven?”
The mercenaries sucked in a cold breath. The Lubis mercenaries came from the knightly nation of Grey, knowing perfectly well what that term symbolized. The Husher explained quietly to the confused Antinna and Roman, “The Angel.”
Antinna gasped, looking at Brendel, incredulous; the knightly nation of Grey had less than one-fifth the land area of Erluin, yet its combat strength was unrivaled among the forces of the Holy Light, and that was precisely because it possessed two of the finest legions on the Vaunte continent.
The Templar Crusaders and the Glories of the Throne Legion.
In the last holy war, as the subordinate force of the Temple of Fire, Erluin had certainly suffered at the hands of these two armies.
Husher had his own doubts as he looked at him, stuttering as he asked, “My lord, are you saying there’s a Gate of Heaven in the valley?”
Brendel immediately shook his head. What a joke, if there were really a Gate of Heaven in the valley, it wouldn’t be discovered by him; the Gate of Heaven, also known as the Stairway of Angels, birthed creatures known as the most powerful combatants of the forces of light, the Throne Angels. Moreover, any area within a hundred miles of a Gate of Heaven would manifest extraordinary celestial signs. Such an obvious anomaly would not go unnoticed unless the local Temple of Fire had descended into madness; otherwise, he would never be able to partake.
“No, below is merely an Order altar similar to the Gate of Heaven,” Brendel replied.
“Similar?” The mercenary captain was taken aback; although he was a legendary gathering of the most extraordinary mercenaries in history, he wasn’t a well-versed scholar. Most of the great biological nests in this world were controlled by the powers that be or local nobles, and few common people had the opportunity to learn about them.
“You mean that’s a nest under the protection of Lady Martha?” Antinna, however, quickly grasped Brendel’s meaning.
Brendel was caught off guard; even though he had that concept firmly in mind, he couldn’t resist using the terminology he was accustomed to in the game. It could only be said that when it came to quests and plot dynamics, Sue’s persona always dictated the lead.
He smiled wryly and nodded.
“In that case, that’s a significant discovery,” Husher immediately said. Since wild nests were exceedingly difficult to purify, transforming a nest contaminated by magic often took not a single day but sometimes even years, stretching out to ten or twenty years.
However, a biological nest under the protection of Martha was different; that was a gift bestowed upon the world by the divine, and the order creatures born there would naturally be allies of wise beings. Usually, the controller of the nest would only need to pay daily maintenance and minimal rewards to obtain powerful armies from the Order altar.
Thus, in any country, as long as one reported any Order altar to the Temple of Fire, they would almost instantly be rewarded with a territory that produced rich resources, roughly equivalent to three to four knight territories in size.
Moreover, that territory would be hereditary and irreplaceable.
Thinking of this, Antinna, usually calm, now had glimmering eyes as she looked at Brendel.
But Brendel waved his hand, “You’re overthinking it; that’s merely an abandoned altar.”
“Abandoned?” Antinna was stunned but quickly followed up with a question, “How do you know, my lord?”
Brendel, however, did not answer. He had long known that there was an Order altar in this direction; he just wasn’t clear on the specific location. With his experience, it wouldn’t be possible to determine that so close; if he had, he might have wasted all his prior living.
He had once joined the knightly nation of Grey as a player and continued to be so until just before arriving in this world. Therefore, he was very familiar with the sacred and serene aura that should permeate an area around an Order altar.
Moreover, not long ago, a prompt screen had popped up in his field of vision, indicating that he had entered the range of a “sanctuary.”
As for why he knew it was “abandoned,” hadn’t the strategy guide made that clear?
…
The group descended into the valley, having seemingly been cut off from all other sounds along the mountainside they slid down. The valley was eerily silent, devoid of even the insects’ chirps most prevalent during summer.
Walking through the dark forest lit only by starlight, the ground of the valley showed no obvious paths; the group traversed the rugged, moss-covered terrain, looking around while occasionally catching glimpses of glowing lights flickering in the darkness.
Those were fireflies, or perhaps just the eyes of animals.
Antinna and Roman had traveled at night before, so though they were tense, they weren’t overly fearful. The Lubis mercenaries were at ease; if legendary mercenaries who had seen life and death would have feared the dark, it would have been quite laughable.
Yet, the environment here indeed felt somewhat abnormal.
“This altar is not something I discovered, actually,” Brendel said, as through the dim starlight, he spotted some artificially carved rock fragments emerging from the ground in the forest, where roots intertwining were covered with moss.
(PS: The plot and the pain are still a concern.) (To be continued; for more, please log in for additional chapters, support the author, and support legal reading!)
