Chapter 233: Act 166 – The Gambler’s Roulette (Part Three)
“No sign of enemies.”
“No enemies on the left side either.”
“No damn skeletons here either—” The shouts echoed through the empty streets. Juliette turned back, a layer of faint light reflecting in her anxious deep green pupils—where did those undead go? The leader of the female mercenary band kept her slender fingers motionless on the hilt of her thin sword, her mind clouded with doubts like a fog that spread until it enveloped everything, leaving everyone searching in vain.
The mercenaries advanced in the darkness, their footsteps crunching softly, and the unknown lurked beneath the silence of the night, gripping every heart with an icy chill. Fear loomed like a shadow over everyone, tightening around their throats without uttering a word. The silence was so profound that a pin drop could be heard, each person vigilantly scanning their surroundings with eyes that gleamed in the dark:
Fearing that the undead, having vanished without a trace, would suddenly emerge from some alley and surround them completely.
They crossed half the district, expecting a deadly confrontation with those bloodthirsty beings along the way, only to find that the enemy seemed to exist solely in their imaginations. The undead from the west gate felt as if they had never been there—was that young noble mistaken? Juliette turned back, the light of the illuminating crystal in her hand penetrating into her pupils, reflecting the pale, colorless face of the boy beside her, who looked malnourished.
“Leader?” the boy asked.
“What is it?”
“Was that noble mistaken?” he whispered. “Did they perhaps circumvent to the north?”
“Impossible,” the mercenary leader categorically denied the notion. “In battle, every second counts; the enemy commander can’t be a fool.”
“But…” He wanted to say more, but then someone shouted ahead, “Leader!”
Both of them froze for a moment, instinctively looking in that direction.
“What is it?”
“Something’s been discovered,” the person shouted. “Come take a look!”
Juliette exchanged a glance with the boy, nodded, and followed. As she rounded the corner, she was stunned—
The long street had completely transformed.
It looked like it had been through a fierce battle; as far as the eye could see, the cobblestones were riddled, almost devoid of any intact pieces, with huge pits everywhere. The cracked stones appeared to have been overturned by some powerful force from below, with some even hurled dozens of meters away. If not for the absence of any elemental disturbances that hinted at the presence of elemental energy, everyone there would have had reason to believe a clash of above-gold caliber had taken place.
Juliette raised her head and saw a two-story building not far away, deeply sunken in, collapsed on one side; it seemed as if the central part had been struck sideways by something, as support beams splintered. That kind of strike must have been at least at the silver level. She gently inhaled, observing the crooked skeletons and human corpses strewn across the pits.
“Who are those people?”
The mercenary leader frowned at the corpses; their clothing resembled that of the poor outside the city. This was easy to explain, but what about the remains of skeletons scattered around the human bodies? After careful observation, she noted the casualty ratio was nearly five to one, meaning there was at least one human corpse for every five skeletons. If the impoverished people outside the city possessed that level of combat prowess—Juliette began to have doubts about how Grudin had survived until now.
The mercenaries all shook their heads.
“What about their weapons?” she asked again.
“There are no weapons,” a mercenary replied.
“No weapons?” Juliette took a deep breath. “Are you trying to tell me that these humans fought the undead barehanded, or were they the people of silver—?”
“Leader, I don’t know if they were the people of silver, but for the first point—I believe so,” the mercenary who had called them replied softly.
Juliette’s eyes flickered. What had happened this night was somewhat beyond her understanding. Just then, the sound of hooves echoed down the street, and everyone looked up to see two or three riders breaking through the mist of the night and stopping in front of them—it was the scouts they had sent out. The leader of the female mercenary band snapped back from her thoughts, raised her head, and asked, “What is it? What have you found?”
“Leader,” the rider replied immediately, “there are sounds of combat toward the city gates.”
Sounds of combat at the city gates?
Does that mean these refugees have actually pushed the undead back?
Everyone stopped, exchanging bewildered glances. Martha was up; what on earth was going on?
…
The light in the darkness was not as simple as white paint on a black canvas. Especially in that deep darkness, the only beam of light seemed to flow with the hope in one’s heart. Although it hadn’t illuminated them, everyone still wished to move toward that glimmering brightness. Even if it were merely an existence imagined within the mind, people were willing to struggle through the darkness toward the light.
Even if leaving a deeper shadow behind, humanity was willing to face the light—
In the darkness, the flame of a torch flickered.
A young girl quietly knelt in front of the torch, the bright red firelight outlining the soft lines of her cheeks; between light and shadow, the beautiful line extending to her neck and under the edges of her face fell into shadow. Her pitch-black eyes reflected the firelight, as if a flickering flame were lit deep within her pupils. She sat quietly, hands resting on her knees, motionless.
As if everything before her had become irrelevant.
With a loud crash, a vine thick enough for two people to embrace suddenly rose from the ground, bringing with it rubble and dirt, arcing toward the white skeletons beneath the night. The dozens of meters long vine swept through the sea of skeletons, making a loud cracking sound, sending countless fragments flying away.
Three tall men, wearing beast-hide robes and with indifferent expressions, stood on the city wall directing these vines, sweeping away the encroaching skeletons as if clearing rubbish time and again. Beside them, beast-like werewolves, even half-crouched, towered over them, gazing with ghostly eyes at the sea of undead below, ready to repel any ambush from the black knights and necromancers hidden among the unruly crowd.
The battle had persisted for nearly an hour—
But finally, a tall werewolf approached the girl, respectfully lowering its head. “Miss Antinna, it seems reinforcements have arrived.”
The noble girl’s eyes flickered. “Who are they?” she asked.
“They seem to be mercenaries.”
She turned her head to glance down at the city wall, then said nothing as she turned back, nodding slightly. Then she gently turned around—seeing the Business Lady completely sprawled over the parapet, her precious bag hugged tightly to her chest, eyes closed in deep slumber. Her long eyelashes hung down like a dense brush, her face flushed red in the glow of the fire, irresistibly adorable—except for the slight part of her lips, which formed an extremely ungracious pool of drool below.
Antinna let out a weary sigh, reaching out to pat the girl’s cheek, slap, slap.
Romaine immediately smacked her lips, instinctively waving her hand while murmuring, “If you want to kill Romaine, please wait until I finish my sleep—”
The noble girl suddenly felt a sense of powerlessness.
“Romaine.”
“I know, I know,” the small Romaine frowned in her sleep. “Please take a turn, next up—”
“…”
…
Juliette was taken aback the first time she saw Antinna; this mature mercenary leader couldn’t help but frown as she watched those oddly dressed figures—werewolves, druids, and the undead from the west were rendered nearly powerless beneath their suppression. Not to mention they had arrived too late; even if they hadn’t, the outcome of the battle here wouldn’t have changed at all. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder who these people were. She didn’t know if they were under that young noble, but if they were, didn’t it imply that he had never believed in her in the first place?
And what about Vurn? That young man surely had some follow-up measures in place.
She took a gentle breath. Although she knew this was quite normal, she still felt a twinge of discomfort. It was as if her determined efforts had been ultimately denied by someone else. Although her mind had long matured and grown resolute, she couldn’t help but harbor some expectations. Especially this night, after witnessing that young man slay Grudin, a flicker of hope ignited within her. She wished it was a turning point in fate.
Not just for herself, but for the entire mercenary band.
In this chaotic world, they drifted about without peace. She hoped that young man would be a lord worth following, someone who could make most of her people feel a sense of belonging. Yet nobles were generally all the same; no matter how unique they seemed, they always spent their days scheming against others, filled with suspicion and distrust toward anyone. Even that young man could not escape this circle. The leader of the female mercenary band swept her fiery red hair behind her ear, feeling a bout of silence settling over her.
But Antinna looked up at the woman who stood nearly a head taller than her, her expression calm and unwavering, as if showing no sign of weakness. So these should be the mercenaries that the Lord had recruited? She thought, and after a moment’s consideration, she began to piece together Brendel’s thoughts. Yet as she watched the other’s every move, a flash of understanding crossed her mind—so that was how it was; she seemed to guess the mercenary leader’s thoughts and spoke, “May I ask who you are?”
Juliette looked at the young girl, feeling a vague pressure despite her younger age. “Hmph, just another noble girl,” the mercenary leader internalized while speaking in a teasing tone: “Juliette, leader of the Mountain Swallow Mercenary Band. We were sent by the Lord. And you are, little girl?”
The probing had begun.
Antinna smiled slightly inwardly but maintained her expression, responding without a change in demeanor, “I am also a subordinate of the Lord, to be precise, I am his chief aide.” She extended her hand. “This is Miss Romaine, she is the Lord’s fiancée.”
The Business Lady yawned, rubbing her sleepy eyes—
Sure enough, a flicker of trepidation and disappointment crossed Juliette’s eyes.
That flicker of disappointment and disgust did not escape the eyes of the noble girl. Indeed, she felt a thought cross her mind that was identical to Juliette’s, yet her expression shifted coldly as she spoke in a chilling tone: “But Miss Juliette, you need not doubt—although I appear here as the Lord’s aide, that does not mean I agree with his methods.” She raised her head, looking at the mercenary leader with a cold expression, “So, Miss Leader, please tell the Lord—”
“If he thinks that a person can remain unaffected and avoid harming others by casting everything aside, I hope he can abandon such naivety. Because while I do not know what kind of person he wishes to become, I do know that a true hero is not a saint who never makes mistakes but a man who dares to take responsibility!”
“Even if a decision is wrong, I hope he understands that a person’s life does not solely belong to them but also to everyone who relies on, cares for, and loves them. Just as I respect the Lord’s decisions, I will never forgive him for abandoning his subordinates—”
“And also, please tell him—” Antinna suddenly paused, her gaze falling into the distance, “In this world, there is no hope or freedom that can be obtained without bloodshed and struggle.”
The girl stopped, her last words reverberating into the distance.
A moment.
Every werewolf on the city wall turned around, gazing at the noble girl, their eyes flickering with an indescribable light.
Juliette stammered, her heart stirred, but looking at the girl, she asked, “What do you mean?”
Antinna did not respond.
A dead silence fell over the city wall—
The leader of the female mercenary band shifted her gaze to Romaine, who simply smiled sweetly at her and asked, “Um, Auntie, does Romaine have a signal arrow?”
Juliette was left speechless.
…
When the signal rose from the west gate, the bright flames illuminated the depths of every participant’s eyes in the city.
Brendel, along with Charles and Xi behind him, halted instantly, as did the mercenaries accompanying them. Everyone subconsciously looked up at that dazzling light, which seemed like a prayer, a blessing, informing everyone on the battlefield. It told them—they had won!
Brendel took a deep breath.
If he were a gambler, then he believed he must be the luckiest one. Because at the moment when the roulette stopped, the pointer of fate unerringly opened the sole door along that unique path. As for what lay beyond the door, perhaps he couldn’t see that far just yet, but he at least knew he had finally won this time.
They had taken the first step from Madara and Grudin.
Yet just then, Charles turned to look at his lord, the young wizard smiled slightly. “So, after the darkness—has the dawn arrived, my Lord?”
“No,” Brendel shook his head as he gazed at the beam of magical light, “It’s just—”
“I have seen the ending.”
…
(PS: The last chapter of the Kingdom of Dust. It took some time to conceive this chapter, so it’s just this one. I’m also taking a break after the outburst to plan for the upcoming plot—better prepare for the double monthly tickets coming soon. Ah… may the round god bless me, GOD IS A GIRL~!”) (To be continued. To find out what happens next, please log in. More chapters await, support the author, support official reading!)
