Chapter 664: Act 26 – The Evil Alliance
The changing of the seasons slowly revolved outside the Ampere Seale harbor, and the increasingly dense forests began to cloak the green hills. The excavation work outside the harbor could not completely conceal the news; ever since Bud, the artisan wizard, had left, rumors about the Azure Spear had continued to spread.
“What a troublesome autumn.”
Wood rubbed his temples as he stared at a sheet of letter paper on the mahogany table. The paper was pure white, a high-quality product from the eastern forests of Cruz, neighboring the Clover Fields. One corner of the letter still retained a faint scent of charred material, a distinct mark left by flame magic. Before it was erased, this mark should have been that of four pairs of soaring eagles, representing the Temple of Fire—or perhaps better said, the highest level of confidential documents of the Cruz Empire.
He raised his head and sat quietly at the mahogany table, his gaze lost in thought as he stared at the wall opposite him. Then suddenly, a golden flame ignited in the hands of the former High Priest of the temple, and with a gentle flick, the charred letter turned to ashes.
Wood carefully tidied the remnants of the ashes on the table before straightening up and adjusting his golden priestly robe. The information on the confidential letter confirmed the rumors circulating in the harbor over the past few days, but more importantly, he had already learned everything from the young Earl of Toniger.
The Erluin people did not intend to conceal this from him, or at least not to cover up the superficial facts—indeed, the Azure Spear existed in Ampere Seale. But this was meaningless, as the Bud people had already transported it away.
Wood’s expression shifted as he repeatedly pondered the information contained in this incident. It was unclear whether it was the resolve of the young princess of Erluin or the remarkable shrewdness of the young earl, but the benefits they had gained from the Bud people by exchanging the Azure Spear had become quite apparent.
He couldn’t help but turn his gaze toward the window. Outside, the shallow red roofs of the harbor rose and fell like waves, while lush green vines dangled from the glass, splitting the sunlight that fell on the mahogany table into peculiar shapes.
This was indeed a vibrant city, but now it no longer belonged to the Temple of Fire.
In truth, Wood did not feel much about this matter; the temple had made a mistake and should pay the price for it. The key was that at least this kingdom still believed in the path of golden flames, and its people had not deviated from their reverence for the Temple of Fire. Wood had never really attached much importance to worldly gains.
But what truly concerned him was the inner circle of the temple—no, it should be said the high-level officials of the empire who coveted the Azure Spear. Greed could blind one’s heart, especially for those nobles. Even he himself was a victim of this.
However, the wording in the letter indicated that His Majesty the Emperor himself might also have had some inclination. After all, it was the Azure Spear, the most famous weapon in the Azure Poem—once it reached this level, it was something he could no longer change. When he held the position of High Priest, he might have been able to think of some ways, but now it was beyond his capacity to worry about; all he could do was hope that the power holders within the Temple of Fire would be more rational and recognize the true teachings of the Flame King.
He sighed, took off his High Priest’s cap, and put it on his head before opening the door. The knights loyal to the temple had already been waiting outside. His deputy—no longer the previous monk Gaeus—had since been replaced by a more shrewd officer since taking on the liaison between the Temple of Fire and the Erluin royal family. This person must have come from the empire’s core diplomatic agency, as Wood could tell at a glance from his dressing habits and gestures—his name was Peter, and he was extremely slick. As soon as he spotted Wood, he immediately bowed deeply, revealing his shiny bald head, and respectfully greeted, “High Priest, is it about the Sacred Sword Odrefice?”
Wood glanced at him as if trying to see through the man, then replied casually, “This is a secret of the temple; if necessary, I will inform you.”
“I understand.” Peter replied with a smile.
Wood turned back; the fragments of the Sacred Sword Odrefice, lost by Williams in the Battle of Ampere Seale, were not particularly important in themselves. The temple had agreed to exchange a new type of frigate for the remnants of the sacred sword with Brendel, but the key lay in the will and soul of the sacred sword.
The identity of the Earl of Toniger was quite special, with shadows of Silver Elves and Dragonkin behind him, making it very tricky for the high-ranking officials of the temple. Furthermore, the other party did not seem inclined to join the empire, so the opinions among the higher-ups were divided: one side believed they should heed the Flame King’s choices, while the other side was much more aggressive.
This was another dilemma.
Many years of being aloof had made the Temple of Fire somewhat arrogant and indifferent toward external affairs; some elders even had thoughts of assassination, not to mention how ridiculous it would be to assassinate a noble under the protection of the Temple of Fire. What truly angered Wood was that these people seemed to have forgotten the teachings of the sages.
To choose between the empire and the truth was no problem for the Temple of Fire a hundred years ago. Since the Cruz Reformation, although the cohesion of the empire had been increasing, the weight of the monarchy had grown day by day, threatening the very existence of Cruz.
Ironically, some people were completely unaware of this issue.
Today, Wood was to meet with the representatives of the northern nobles, who still lingered in the Ampere Seale harbor. Although matters under the table were becoming increasingly pressing, for those remaining in Erluin, the priority remained war.
Regarding the war with the Golden-maned Toquinin, he wondered whether the Crown Prince had prepared himself thoroughly. Though he had sworn intently at the time of his promise, the Siphai family had already suffered greatly in this war. Moreover, as a puppet themselves, how much authority they possessed remained to be seen.
The temple would certainly not invest much energy into a wager that was bound to fail. Wood could only hope that the Crown Prince also understood this. Fortunately, he was a clever guy and would not be overly naïve.
He stepped out accompanied by his deputy, but at that moment, a servant approached and bowed, “High Priest, there is a special visitor.”
“A special visitor?”
Wood paused.
Bald Peter had already stepped forward to shoo the servant away, “Can’t you see the High Priest has important matters to attend to? Any visitors, as long as they are not guests of the empire, let them wait—”
Wood interrupted him, raising a hand to stop him, “Is it a guest from the empire?”
Peter froze.
“Yes,” the servant replied dutifully.
“Let them wait; I will be there shortly.” Wood pondered for a moment, furrowing his brow as he answered.
Before he could finish his sentence, a serious woman’s voice rang out, “No need, High Priest Wood. You know my habits; we have arrived.”
Upon hearing that voice, Wood was taken aback. He looked up and saw the woman of great renown from the empire—
She had actually come.
…
Unlike the sunny weather around Ampere Seale, the climate grew dreary and rainy once crossing the vast Vlada Forest in the north into the Peydarsong region. The continuous heavy rain had caused the Maji River to swell, and the roads around Magitan had become muddy and difficult to traverse.
Amid the pouring rain, a black coach, ghostly like, jostled through the trees. A corner of the curtain at the coach window was lifted, revealing a pair of eyes like that of a dead fish, vaguely lightening as they stared motionlessly at the gloomy scenery outside.
The dark clouds seemed to be swirling like a shroud, hanging densely above the forest. Though it was noon, the sky appeared dim.
“What is the commander of the Azure Legion doing in Ampere Seale? Declaring war against Erluin?” a raspy voice inquired, then coldly chuckled, as if finding the jest quite amusing.
The cold laughter from within the carriage sent shivers down one’s spine. After a moment, another voice chimed in, “It’s probably about the northern war.”
“If you think so, you’re not far from the gallows. The Cruz people do not need to divide their attention over a mere Toquinin; they suffered a great loss in the battle at Ampere Seale and certainly do not want to leave the Bud people with any handles,” said the third speaker, whose voice was steady, serious, and filled with authority.
As soon as he spoke, the others fell silent.
“The Temple of Fire has lost face and substance in Ampere Seale. On the surface, they didn’t get anything good from us, but in truth, the ultimate winners are neither us nor them.” There was a pause. “Erluin has an illustrious princess.”
“Duke,” someone finally dared to interject, “Are you saying we’ve drawn the attention of the Temple of Fire?”
“Very likely; the Cruz cannot have failed to notice the discrepancies. Do you really think you can pull it off without a hitch?” the authoritative voice replied.
“What should we do then?”
No one answered, and a sudden silence fell within the carriage, save for the creaking sounds as it swayed. After a while, the raspy voice finally spoke again, “We just need to find a way to delay things—”
“So that’s our purpose in coming here.”
The imposing voice replied.
At this point, the carriage finally stopped during its journey, revealing a dark fortress through the rain curtain ahead. Soldiers shouted from the ramparts, but their voices were hard to discern through the downpour. Finally, the carriage door opened, and a cloaked swordsman jumped down.
The swordsman lifted his head; his bearded face under the hood looked like that of Anlek or perhaps a wandering knight from the north, but if Brendel were present, he would certainly recognize this person’s name.
The Eagle Swordsman, Dejyar.
“Open the gates quickly; we are the most esteemed guests of your earl.” He shouted.
“Who are you?” a soldier’s questioning voice came from the ramparts.
“We are the allies he most wishes to see; go tell him that if he doesn’t want to be hanged by the princess, he should immediately open the door and let us in!” Dejyar answered proudly.
This exchange was extraordinarily rude, but just as the soldiers were about to erupt, the Eagle Swordsman threw something far and wide onto the ramparts. He watched it draw a beautiful parabolic arc through the rain before landing inside the castle and shouted, “Take this to Rendener; he will understand!”
“Go on, fool!”
…(To be continued. If you like this work, please consider supporting it with a recommendation or monthly vote at Qidian (qidian.com); your support is my greatest motivation.)
