Chapter 430: Act 182 – The Last Moment
“Curious?”
“A little noble from the border, knows the head wolf Echis, understands the spatial rune array of Dallasthale, and carries the gift of the Dragon God along with the Sword of Earth and Mountains—”
“The longsword in your hand, is it the Azure of the Skies?” The elder’s gray-green eyes looked at Brendel, filled with wise amusement.
Brendel’s heart skipped a beat.
“Can a little noble not possess these? That would be a bias.”
“Sometimes you have to admit, bias is also a form of experience,” William chuckled, “But it seems like this might be your secret, so I may have been presumptuous. I’d like to assume that if I apologize, you wouldn’t hold it against an old man like me, would you?”
This playful remark made Brendel smile involuntarily. At the very least, William’s approachable demeanor was several levels above those arrogant Crusian, even though as the leader of the People of Silver, he theoretically had more reason to look down on the People of Black Iron.
But compared to the humility and courtesy of the wizard, the Crusian embassy appeared as pitiable nouveau riche.
“Well, to be honest, I’m more concerned about this.” The elder raised his head to look at the magnificent stone gate and shook his head. “Behind this door surely cannot be the long repose of the Lionheart Sword; everyone has guessed wrong.”
He turned back, a strange color flashing in his gray-green eyes. “But if I’m not mistaken, you know what lies behind this door, right?”
Brendel did not believe that William came here out of curiosity, but he still spoke, “Master Wizard, what is the fundamental principle of magic?”
This question was as simple for William as eating or drinking; without a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “It’s the exchange of mana and law.”
“I’ve heard that the emblem of the Silver Alliance is a silver scale. I wonder if you could tell me the reason for that, Master Wizard?”
A glimmer flashed in William’s eyes. “Equivalent exchange, good lad, I see what you’re after?”
“A little favor would suffice.”
“I understand, you want me to help you fend off that woman, right?” The elder looked towards the other end of the valley. “A bit troublesome, but not impossible to consider.”
Brendel nodded. He had no doubt about why William could guess his thoughts; the wizard leader’s extensive life experience allowed him to perceive many truths.
The elder smiled slightly. “Now that’s a hard bargain, but I think it’s worth it. Now, you can tell me what lies behind this door, can’t you?”
“Valhalla,” Brendel replied.
William was briefly taken aback. “Are you referring to the goddess’s relic spoken of by the Druids?”
Brendel nodded. He wasn’t worried that this legendary wizard leader would meddle in this matter, because in most people’s minds, the significance of Valhalla was merely an ancient spark of fire. Obtaining this spark could immediately elevate one to lordship, but such appeal held little meaning for a wizard at the pinnacle of power.
Besides, Bud was an alliance composed of floating city-states, and the craftsman-wizards of Bud had no concept of territory or need for it.
Moreover, in the camp of Order, this great wizard stood on the same front as him.
“It’s said that there exists an original spark left by Martha in the southern part of Erluin; I’ve only heard vague rumors about it, but I never expected it to be right in the center of the Loop of Trade Winds.” William gazed at the magnificent stone gate and sighed, “Is it truly behind this door?”
Brendel nodded.
“Remarkable,” the elder turned back. “But now I’m even more curious. This is a legend recorded in the Druid’s secret writings; how did you come to know about it?”
Brendel smiled and said nothing.
“I see, it’s a secret again, isn’t it?”
Brendel nodded.
And at that very moment, concurrently in the Hall of Withered Wood within the Green Tower, the Druids anxiously awaited the arrival of the last moment. Outside the hall, lightning flashed and thunder echoed, so frequent that it seemed the sky was raining not water but thunder. Beams of white lightning pierced through the rainy night, illuminating faces.
The howling wolf pack had already entered the upper levels of the Green Tower, and fighting was underway in the marketplace area. The centaur and tree spirit guards had lost the marketplace the night before but reclaimed it at noon yesterday. For over ten hours, both sides engaged in a tug-of-war amongst the vines and branches, but the Druid side ultimately retreated due to insufficient forces.
The wolf pack seemed endless.
The hourglass placed in the center of the hall turned for the last time; each turn took about four hours, but for the Druids, these four hours felt like the longest in their lives. They still had one last chance, but the path to destruction seemed vividly clear to everyone.
A few senior Druids blocked the entrance to the town hall with thorny vines, yet once the town hall fell, the Green Tower would have nothing left to defend but the last area of the Withered Wood Council.
Ordinary citizens fleeing from other areas were anxiously gathering in the last remaining open spaces of the city. Adults held onto children, men comforted women, and a suffocating tension and unease pervaded the air, leaving only the sound of rain to clatter.
In the Hall of Withered Wood.
Initially, the Druids buzzed with discussion, but when a young Druid near the elder turned the hourglass, an eerie silence fell over the hall. Everyone seemed to have said all that they could, or were uncertain about how to proceed, and the discussion abruptly ceased.
“There are a few hours left. If that human youth does not return with news, the spark of the Green Tower will extinguish,” one voice in the hall stated.
“He may already be dead.”
“I object; the spark’s glow still shines. That’s Quinelle’s spark; I recognize it.”
Everyone involuntarily turned to look behind them into the rainy night, where only a single faint green beam of light penetrated the rain curtain, shooting straight into the clouds.
“But the beam hasn’t moved in a long time. Perhaps they’ve encountered trouble; even if they set out now, they wouldn’t be able to reach the center of the Loop of Trade Winds in just a few hours.”
The murmurs of concern erupted once more, only to quiet again with this statement, as the unease in every heart seemed to be kindled, even making the hunchbacked elder frown. Just then, a voice came from outside the hall:
“Perhaps the young man is not dead yet, and may be arriving soon.”
Everyone turned in surprise to see a tall figure stepping out from the rain curtain. He removed the wet cloth draping him, revealing a rugged face; it was the great Druid Andrew, who had ventured into the storm circle and had yet to return.
“Andrew, you’re back?” someone exclaimed in surprise. “We all thought you had returned to the embrace of the forest.”
“I was behind the Wolf’s Pass when the wolf disaster struck, and thus escaped,” Andrew replied. “By the time I realized something was wrong, I transformed into a raven and flew around the forest, only to discover a major crisis. I didn’t dare to be certain at first, but now I can confirm that the young man did not lie—this time, the magic tide is extraordinary.”
“Yes,” the elder nodded, looking at the latter. “However, you must have made other findings during your extended stay in the forest, right?” Andrew’s sudden reappearance brought confidence to everyone, yet under these dire circumstances, the relief was hard to come by. They were eager to hear more good news from this tall great Druid.
Andrew nodded. “I spent some time in the forest to assess the scale of the wolf disaster; however, I don’t think I need to reiterate that everyone has already seen it. I only encountered Quinelle in the forest, which gave me some understanding of the situation.”
“You met that young woman?” Everyone was taken aback.
“No, I mean I encountered Quinelle and rescued a few noble humans along the way, but I did not meet that lord.”
“What’s going on?” someone immediately asked. “Aren’t they together?”
“It seems they ran into some trouble; that lord has already set off alone toward the center of the Loop of Trade Winds.”
“Alone?” The elder frowned. “Can you be sure he has reached the center of the Loop of Trade Winds?”
“No, I can’t,” Andrew shrugged. “I returned here only to bring news because your previous assumptions were inaccurate. Moreover, a few Fenrir offspring with flying capability have appeared; if I don’t return soon, I might run into trouble myself.”
Silence fell over the hall.
“The offspring of the magic wolf…” The elder’s brows furrowed deeply.
“We need to prepare defenses quickly. If flying magical wolves invade from above, the town hall’s defense will be in peril.” Someone immediately reacted. However, their orders did not receive much response; at this moment, everyone seemed somewhat shaken.
The young man was missing; was it worth making one last struggle at this point? It would be better for those promising young people to turn into ravens and fly out while they still could; there weren’t many Fenrir offspring with flying abilities, and every escape mattered.
Just then, another voice came from outside the hall:
“I wonder if any of you still have the mood to meet a guest at this point?”
A guest?
What guest could there be at this time? Everyone was taken aback. “If it’s a guest, please come in,” the elder called out calmly.
Turiman stepped through the rain curtain, holding a silver staff with six runes swirling around it, smiling as he looked at everyone. This scholar stood there with calm composure, as if the wolf disaster outside never existed, or it subtly implied that this person did not belong to this world at all.
(To be continued. For the next chapters, please visit, support the author, and read the official version!)
