Chapter 670: Act 32 – Another Chance III
Veronika’s eyes widened as she fell from the air, watching the lady knight strike at her with another sword, but badly injured, she was unable to evade. She couldn’t help but close her eyes, her heart turned cold.
But a startled cry replaced the gruesome scene that everyone braced themselves to witness.
Before everyone’s gaze, a sky-blue spear firmly blocked Laurena’s sword. The lady knight immediately realized that her opponent had reinforcements and instinctively tried to withdraw her sword, but the next moment, she was astonished to find herself unable to move.
“How could this happen!”
Laurena was taken aback; since learning the technique of the Flash Sword, she had never encountered anything like this. She realized she wasn’t under some magic rendering her immobile, but rather that the space she’d once controlled so easily had suddenly become obscure before her, and even the sword that should be able to move freely seemed to be ensnared in a layer of frozen stillness.
She gaped, raising her head to look at the ponytailed girl standing before her.
Xi stood silently, gripping the sky-blue spear and coldly staring at her.
Another girl at the pinnacle of gold. Although Laurena had long known of Brendel’s strength, she had never dreamed that such a genius would be hidden in mere Toniger, as if all the monsters of Erluin had converged here.
At that moment, a cold voice arrived: “The Flash Sword utilizes spatial motion to directly inflict damage; thus, under an invincible fate, even the effect of spatial motion is reduced to less than ten percent. It’s indeed a case of one thing overcoming another.”
Hearing this voice, Delphine, who stood behind all the knights, instantly changed her expression.
“Earl of Toniger.” The woman seemed to grit her teeth as she uttered this name.
She instinctively wanted to retreat, but the voice called out first: “Charles.”
As soon as the words fell, an invisible shackle descended out of nowhere, landing on every Crusian present. Then a somewhat cold voice echoed in the ears of these knights:
“The law of space, solidify.”
With this voice, Brendel’s figure had already stepped out from the crowd. He moved through the masses and caught Veronika, fallen from the air, lifting his head coldly to stare at the Chancellor’s Daughter of the Crusian:
“Madam, it seems we have met before at the Loop of Trade Winds, haven’t we?”
“Did Veronika send you to inform me that the Crusians are preparing to declare war on Erluin?”
“If that’s the case, I am always ready.”
As soon as Brendel spoke, there was an uproar around him.
…
The Elyudeniel Palace was shrouded in a mist year-round, the empty onyx hall reflecting a dim blue glow on its dark floor, which was as dark as a mirror, reflecting the 120 skull columns of the dead stacked in an upward gothic dome of piled bones.
Here, it is said that the breath of the living would freeze into glass-like ice crystals in an instant, eternally enveloping the great hall in a chilling frost, the ‘hunger wail’ weaving through the pillars sounded like the mad ramblings floating above the arches.
The residents of the Quiet Bay believed that the ‘hunger wail’ came from the shrieks of the corpse creatures that crawled out of the abyss. The Vaunte often thought that the breath of the dead would create wind, thus it lingered endlessly. However, in fact, such a natural phenomenon existed long before the founding of Madara.
(Note: Today, the bay between northern Erluin and Saint Ausoor)
Amid the faint whispers of the wind, the dark knights cloaked in black traversed between the pillars, the metallic hooks at the ends of their cloaks clanging as they were dragged along. These dark courtiers passed by those large spiritual spider mothers lurking beside the columns of the dead, under the watch of their four pairs of lantern-like glowing eyes, and stood in two rows at the hall’s center, silent as a unit.
Instalung stood at the back of the hall, side by side with Tagus, observing this scene with interest. Unlike most of the ancient, decrepit undead that looked as though their lives had burned out long ago, he had a wide range of knowledge. He knew of the customs of the ancient kingdom across from the black Brahmandor rose, recognized the radiant culture of the Crusians, and was even aware that the black knights were often misrepresented in mortal literature as undead beings clad in armor—quite contrary to most widespread tales. The black knights of Hel, even in Madara, were a particularly unique kind of undead. Their territories mostly lay close to the Sea of the Undead Moon, maintaining their aloof yet elegant habits from life, their oaths engraved onto their armor, the flame of their souls swirling around the obsessions of the living, driven by the fire of vengeance—that is the origins of the black knights.
Their stubbornness was notorious even in Madara; though people often claimed obstinacy was akin to the corrupt bones of Madara, the black knights were exceptionally unyielding. The living knights adhered to their doctrines, while these deceased knights were forever bound by oaths and curses.
Instalung thought they could tentatively be called ‘the Madara within Madara.’ He watched the scene with a mocking expression, completely out of sync with the stern-faced Tagus beside him.
A buzzing voice echoed in the hall: “In the name of the eternally dark moon and the black flower, King of the Supreme Dark Nation, Loki’s staff bearer, please accept the fealty and tribute from the lords of the East.”
This voice seemed to stretch the vast hall even further, reaching deep into the other end but awaited a long time without response. Above the hall, the sovereign on the throne waited a moment before softly responding with a hum.
The black knights bowed their heads.
“Cheers to His Majesty’s grandeur; with even the domain of the Sea of the Undead Moon now yielding, the unification of the dark nation has nearly come within reach after a thousand years. Besides that woman Alwahite who still has no idea what she is plotting, only the land of spiders remains, Tagus, the Undead Moon gradually rises, and to participate in such a history is truly something to anticipate,” Instalung couldn’t help but whisper to his companion as he watched the black knights bowing.
“Anticipation is not an emotion a dead person should have,” Tagus replied blandly, hardly changing expression. As the noblest branch of the Manlein family of vampires, he was allowed to wear a gold-trimmed black aristocratic robe in this hall, making his position alongside the insignificant Instalung seem rather ridiculous. “Madara has begun to act in accordance with the will of the Mercury Staff, as if it were a curse rather than a goal. The world of the living is nothing but fleeting decay in the eyes of the eternally dead; to me, only time, truth, and dust hold value.”
“That’s why the outside world calls us unyielding skeletons.”
“But the good show has just begun, Tagus. Today’s arrival of the black knights is merely an appetizer.” Instalung showed no embarrassment due to his lowly status; instead, he was quite excited. “Just wait and watch, His Majesty has summoned the blood staff back; it must be due to something good happening.”
Tagus said nothing, but he already knew what had occurred. A week ago, in the territory to the west of Madara, near Erluin Kingdom, two dark nobles were successively attacked by humans, one vampire castle turned nearly to ash, leaving behind a great deal of scorched ‘purification’ traces, with hardly any undead creature managing to escape.
This meant that at least one knightly order of the Temple of Fire had infiltrated Madara’s territory.
The occurrence of such an event at this time gave him a strong sense of conspiracy. Although such incidents weren’t rare on the border between Erluin and Madara, with humans responding to the Temple’s call and the undead predating on each other’s territories, there often were knights privately forming armies to invade one another’s lands.
Yet since the ascension of King Obergo VI of Erluin, Madara had shifted from defense to offense, gradually seizing the initiative in the war.
However, times have changed; the treaty between the Erluinese and Madara had just turned a year old, and it was said that the human kingdom was currently mired in a civil war, evidently not inclined to initiate warfare at this moment.
So who exactly was stirring trouble in the waters here left much room for doubt.
The indifferent vampire squinted his one remaining eye, raising his head to see, just as Instalung had said, the dark lord who had once dealt the Erluinese a painful lesson at Karasu, the ‘blood staff’—the Necromancer King Jugger slowly stepped into the center of the hall.
“Your Majesty, I bring somewhat unwelcome news today.”
“Those lowly humans are once again provoking your majesty’s authority on Madara’s territory.”
“The pain from a year ago seems to have faded from the memories of those obstinate noble humans.”
“Today, I am here to request your permission to bring them new terror.”
Jugger’s hoarse voice echoed under the arches of the Elyudeniel Palace, while Tagus and Instalung narrowed their eyes slightly.
…
Brendel tossed the letter from Delphine lightly in front of her. He scrutinized the woman; in fact, he had already met her at the Loop of Trade Winds, but at that time he only caught a distant glance, far less detailed than today’s inspection.
He had to admit that her beauty was indeed enough to make anyone swoon; among all the women he had seen, only Princess Grifian could match her.
But compared to the malevolent heart of this woman, Her Majesty the Princess appeared innocent as a child.
“Miss Delphine, though I don’t know how I offended you there, you don’t need to go to such lengths to take revenge on me, do you… Lord Veronika sent you to deliver this message, by the way, it seems you Crusians don’t intend to wage war against us Erluinese but rather seek something from me—”
He paused, unable to resist lightly mocking: “If she knew you were coming to me with such conditions, she probably wouldn’t be pleased.”
The Chancellor’s Daughter remained silent, coldly staring at him, her eyes filled with a venomous resentment like that of a hissing snake. This made Brendel frown; he never imagined how he had offended her to cause such a deep-seated animosity.
Fortunately, he didn’t need her to speak. Taking a glance at the letter, he already knew its contents. He raised his head, silently calculating this was about that historical event.
The play staged by the Blood Staff had happened in history before. He originally thought that because history had been thoroughly changed, it would never happen again, yet unexpectedly, that unfortunate Necromancer King had brought this trouble right to his doorstep.
However, Brendel squinted, having little concern.
At the moment, he saw an unexpected opportunity. It was a rarity to encounter a familiar historical event; such good fortune would likely not come by again.
… (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please consider voting for it on Qidian (qidian.com); your support is my greatest motivation.)
