Chapter 371: Act 128 – The Tides
The Loop of Trade Winds trembled with a major upheaval that afternoon, shaking the entire Green Tower.
But upheaval is not necessarily a good thing—
The Council of Druids became tense overnight, and the small town itself was awash with undercurrents. That day and night, mysterious guests from the Cruz Empire’s embassy visited Erluin and the inn where personnel from the Temple of Fire stayed—meanwhile, whispers of rumors began circulating in private.
One gossip pointed out that the large-scale magical reaction that occurred a year ago in Shubli should at least be regarded as a sign of the awakening of a mythical holy sword. Some claimed it was Eke’s Lionheart Sword, and the rumor spread that the Erluin people had mastered the method of entering the Loop of Trade Winds to seize the holy sword.
However, another rumor indicated that the secret lay in the hands of a young Erluin, who had a severe conflict with the Cruz Empire that afternoon and was rescued by the Druids.
This second piece of information piqued the interest of onlookers, as the powerful Cruz Empire had suffered a setback at the hands of a single Erluin. The implications alone could spark speculation from any busybody.
Meanwhile, a mercenary group of lion-mane warriors from the mountainous regions received news that a legendary sword, long-contested by the Lionmane Empire and the Dwarves, had reappeared in the world and was reportedly in the possession of a young man.
Another account claimed that the Cruz Empire clashed with that young man in an attempt to seize the sword.
More news spread rapidly among various taverns, with absurd rumors even claiming that Erluin had already allied with the sanctuary forces. In short, all kinds of gossip flew about like wings, some true, some false, perhaps not all believable.
But sometimes a conspiracy doesn’t require your belief, as people are always willing to selflessly pass on those strange tidings.
In just one night, the Green Tower began to emanate a restless atmosphere due to the upheaval in the Loop of Trade Winds.
Brendel was unaware that everything around him was quietly changing because he had already left the town area of the Green Tower at the moment the Loop of Trade Winds began to change, accompanied by two Great Druids into the Council of Dead Wood.
At that moment, the Council of Dead Wood had received confirmed information—
The Loop of Trade Winds had undergone a tremendous change; a passageway wide enough to span several dozen kilometers had opened on the outer edge of the cloud wall, seemingly for the first time opening its doors to travelers beyond the Druids.
But what changes were occurring in the heart of the mountains, no one knew. After the mist receded, the depths of the Karanjar Mountain range had turned into a perilous area, with monstrous activities within the fog growing more frequent.
In fact, the Druids had already lost several observation points to date.
The front lines were collapsing.
The situation seemed to have become tense.
At least a hundred Elder-tier Druids gathered in the square dedicated to the Goddess Niah, and from far and near, the branches were laden with transformed gray crows, creating a thick presence that almost covered half the sky.
A sense of imminent storm filled the Council of Dead Wood.
All elite forces were out.
Brendel lifted his head to glance at the dark red sky that formed after evening at the Green Tower; countless ravens circled high above six ancient trees, densely filling the air.
From this vantage point, more Druids in leaf cloaks climbed along the vine paths between ancient woods, forming an undulating green dragon.
Yes—
Thousands of Druids were rushing in from similar settlements in the Black Forest near the Green Tower, a clear warning to everyone that war was imminent.
The outcome appeared to hinge on this moment.
For the first time in a hundred years, the Druids of Duke Toniger’s Southlands were spilling out.
“Everyone—!”
“Monsters seem to be pouring out,” a Druid Elder’s voice was loud as thunder, sounding like lightning and thunder amidst a storm. He reported, “Our brothers and sisters at the forefront cannot withstand their attack and are retreating to the rear line.”
“I see from the sky that the monsters in the forest resemble a black ocean, the dark edge cascading through the woods, already engulfing the thorny barriers and rose walls, numerous areas of the Loop of Trade Winds.” Another Druid flew down from a tree, transformed from a gray crow into a human figure, and spoke loudly.
“We must launch a counterattack immediately!”
“We must stop these monsters!”
“They will destroy all forward observation points; our hundreds of years of efforts in the Black Forest will be in vain!” A roar of anger rose among the Druids.
The Grand Elder tapped his staff on the ground, the crisp clash quieting the somewhat chaotic scene:
“How many monsters are there?” the Elder asked.
“Countless.” The initial Druid replied.
Countless.
Brendel stood behind the tall Great Druid, unnoticed at the moment, and he withdrew his gaze from the blood-red evening sky, looking down at the twinkling lights of the town area below the Green Tower.
The town area in the air seemed so distant from the Council of Dead Wood, leaving only a dazzling array of lights. He certainly didn’t know what was happening there, but the Druid’s response stirred a memory within him.
Countless.
Brendel slightly raised his eyelids, watching a leaf drift from overhead. He reached out his hand to catch it, then flipped it over, watching as the leaf slowly fell into the encroaching darkness.
Drifting down into an seemingly endless black abyss.
“Lord,” the Great Druid of the gray crows glanced at the young lord’s action, somewhat displeased by his absent-mindedness: “What do you think of the current changes in the Loop of Trade Winds?”
“May I ask a question?” Brendel raised his head, looking at him.
At that moment, the Grand Elder happened to hear their conversation, thought for a moment, rolled up his sleeves, raised his staff, took a step back, and nodded slightly to Brendel: “Please—”
The scene fell silent, as if people only then noticed the presence of a human.
“Who is that young man?”
“Seems to be a guest of the council.”
“But he appears to be just a human.”
“Seems like he is a relative of Lady Funiya.”
“I see.” A murmur arose among the Druids.
But what is he doing here?
Brendel did not decline the Grand Elder’s gesture; on the contrary, he stepped forward, raised his head to look at the reporting Druid Elder, and asked, “Where are the monsters coming from?”
The Druid Elder paused: “From the mist.”
“Coming in continuously?”
“Continuously.”
“Uncountable?”
“Uncountable.” The other hesitated, confused by why Brendel was asking like this.
“The Monster Tide,” Brendel confirmed, as memories seemed to converge; the experiences of two timelines merged into one:
“With the rise of the crescent moon, the first monster tide will last for seven long nights. The wilting of the flower buds signifies the decay of life, wolves howl and run beneath the moon, as if heralding disaster; thus, the first calamity of civilization is the wolf’s bane.”
“This is the wolf’s bane,” Brendel replied, “The monsters you see are black wolves.”
Wolf’s bane.
The Druids’ expressions changed, a chatter erupted; the wolf’s bane was a calamity that foretold turmoil in the world, but how could it relate to the changes in the Loop of Trade Winds?
“The anomaly of the Loop of Trade Winds is already linked to the great monster tide; wolf’s bane is merely a beginning, yet a beginning can be just as deadly—the monster tide will soon sweep past here, ravaging the entire Loop of Trade Winds.”
“And then they will lay dormant until the great monster tide truly arrives, resurfacing and bringing destruction to the world.”
As Brendel spoke, his thoughts seemed to drift back to that inspiring era in the game—the great monster tide brought forth the onset of chaos, ancient empires teetered on the brink, and the flames of civilization flickered like a candle in the wind.
This was the core of the second chapter—war and chaos.
However, star-like heroes surged in Vaunte, igniting flickering flames across the land; he could almost see banners struggling to move forward amidst the flames—the Valkyries Freya, Duke Aljanga, the running wolf Valde, the King of Fury Kainan—all heroes from different eras and nations emerged one by one, leading players and their people through the darkness.
Yet, long swords plowed through blood-soaked lands, flames consumed the pale thorns, wave after wave of passionate battles; it seemed as though the warm essence that had yet to fully fade from their chests had still remained, keeping civilization standing.
Brendel felt that past glory; it was the wolf’s bane that happened in the waning roars of the year.
And this was the wolf’s bane occurring at the beginning of the year of the sword, creatures lurking in the shadows were about to sweep from the Black Forest, devastating all order in their wake.
Brendel had not experienced this war, but he knew that others had, and he empathized.
Then the young lord turned and calmly spoke: “Their direction?”
No one knew.
But after a moment of silence, a gray crow descended from the sky, landing in the center of the square and transforming into a young Druid. The young Druid surveyed everyone with a serious expression and said:
“The monster tide has swept past the rose walls and is now headed toward the Green Tower.”
His voice echoed throughout the square.
The Druids fell silent.
This time, everyone realized the severity of the situation.
“Is there any way?” the Grand Elder asked.
“Ensure that the seeds of fire at the Green Tower do not extinguish, ensure as many seeds of fire exist as possible,” Brendel replied, “Besides that, I need to enter the center of the Loop of Trade Winds once.”
“At this time?” The gray crow glanced at him.
“For seven long nights, you will face the darkest aspect of chaotic forces, the sun will no longer rise; this is eternal night.” Brendel asked, “Can the Green Tower hold out until then?”
“This is the only way, to ignite the holy fire of Valhalla.” He continued.
Valhalla.
The Druids paused slightly.
“Can it be done?” the Grand Elder looked at him, asking.
“I need someone to help.” Brendel replied.
……(To be continued, for more chapters and the continuing story, please log on and support the author, support legitimate reading!)
