Chapter 720: Act 79 – The Lost Name III
In the latter half of the night, a wind seemed to rise in the forest, its sound akin to a pack of wolves running beneath the twilight of mythology, howling through the treetops, creating a rustling noise that invited a murky storm. Peiya had long been accustomed to curling up alone in the shadow of her tent; ever since that upheaval, she dared not sleep lightly, for the nightmares of that day seemed to manifest anew in every dream.
She saw her younger brother walking ahead, covered in blood, followed by a shadow that was dark and unclear—
Half-asleep, the flickering light of the candle suddenly extinguished—only the nobles could afford to light expensive mutton tallow candles in every tent—but when the light vanished abruptly, darkness seemed to stretch out.
The walls of the tent were swallowed by thick darkness, and faint glimmers of light seemed to appear in the distance. The hunter maiden blinked her heavy eyelids and found herself in a shadowy forest. The woods were vague, appearing to have greyish-white phantoms; she heard distant singing and involuntarily looked up, seeing a line of glowing spirits in white robes gliding slowly through the trees.
Some of those spirits wore long robes, some rode warhorses, some held long spears, while others carried banners; each had a distinct face. Some seemed familiar, yet others felt strange, and suddenly she saw a small figure among the group, head bowed—it was her brother Aruta.
“Aruta!” Peiya couldn’t help but scream.
Her heart disregarded everything else, and she immediately ran in that direction. But the forest grew denser, the tangled roots seemed to spring up, tripping her. She lifted her head, despair filling her as she saw her brother’s silhouette moving further away.
“Aruta!”
“Peiya.” A firm voice came from outside the dream.
The hunter maiden felt as if someone had grasped her hand, and the scenery around her swiftly faded, warm light seeping into the darkness from all sides. She suddenly opened her eyes, realizing she was standing in the center of the camp, drenched in cold sweat, her face as pale as paper.
Brendel stood before her, holding her arm; right in front of her was the campfire. Peiya leaned slightly forward, almost as if about to leap into the flames.
“What’s wrong with you?” Brendel frowned; both he and Medisa had seen the hunter maiden dash out of the tent with a vacant expression and charge recklessly toward the fire. If he hadn’t been quick, she would have sustained severe burns by now.
But now he realized she seemed to be sleepwalking.
“Another nightmare?” The hunter maiden awakened every night in fright, and for Brendel, who had to keep watch every night, this was an obvious pattern.
Peiya stared at him blankly, not having reacted right away. Her hair clung to her fully drenched forehead, and her deep brown eyes shimmered with tears, as if she had yet to shake off the remnants of the previous nightmare.
“Sir, Knight?” Peiya hesitated, quickly retracting her hand, lowering her head timidly. “I-I’m sorry.”
Within the strict hierarchy, how could a crude hunter’s daughter like her dare to touch a noble? Nobles were descendants of sages, embodying honor, radiance, and nobility, disdainful of mingling with the lowborn. In some places, commoners who approached nobles were punished; in Rob, commoners within ten feet of a noble carriage faced whipping.
Initially, this was a means of guarding against assassins. But in recent times, it had gradually evolved into a unique privilege.
Brendel paused slightly, then understood. He shook his head, “I said, if it’s because of my noble status, you don’t need to apologize for that. Some people value it because they possess nothing else. They take pride in a title given by society, whereas I have ideals and pursuits to be proud of. Lady Peiya, I kept you in this party simply because you are our guide, and if possible, I will help you find your brother’s whereabouts—”
He spoke so much just to comfort her. Peiya indeed calmed down; she glanced cautiously at the lord, having heard Phillas, Laurena, and other knights refer to him as ‘Lord Earl’. What kind of exalted being was Lord Earl? She couldn’t imagine; the highest official in her shallow-water town was merely an elderly baron.
But this Earl was undoubtedly strange; she had never seen such an unpretentious noble.
“Thank you, Sir Knight; I had another nightmare.”
“What you just went through didn’t seem like a nightmare. What did you see?”
Peiya was somewhat puzzled but recounted her dream.
“White spirits?”
“What’s wrong?” Medisa gently asked as she stood up. Seeing Brendel’s serious expression, she felt something was off.
“This is interesting—” Brendel looked up at the swaying treetops of the pine forest in the wind. Initially, he thought it was sea breeze from the direction of the Sea of Lost Moon, but now it seemed not to be the case.
“Last time I spoke of the knight who lost his heart, Peiya, you are from the Manowell area; have you heard of the legend of the Nameless One?”
“The Nameless One?”
“Ah, well—”
“The Nameless One, the name is a title; a name is like a code, inherently meaningless on its own but a mark from others upon you; the Minren have their dark legends that if someone loses their name, they will drift aimlessly like a lost soul. Simply put, cast away by the civilized world—”
“The elves have a similar saying; people are mutually needed, and if a person loses their proper reputation, their existential value becomes significantly weak.”
“The legend of spirits in the forest has existed for ages…”
Knights who lost their honor were abandoned by people; they fell into darkness, lost themselves, and muttered to themselves day and night. They had long since perished, but their memories lingered in the forest, never dissipating; if someone held confusion in their heart, they would be lured by them.
Hunters often saw the heartless knights in the forest, but that was merely their fear of the unknown.
Brendel gazed at the restless wind above the forest; it seemed strong enough to push the clouds. Yet the darkness behind the clouds remained dim and lifeless, which was illogical—it was not merely wind but a vast unease engulfing everyone’s hearts.
This unease stemmed from the upheaval of the entire world.
Brendel saw a faint blue arc of light on the horizon; he initially thought it was a weak light converging into a skyline just beyond sight, but it now pointed to a singular rational explanation.
The second tide of magic was coming—
How unfortunate.
“Medisa, go wake the others. This forest may not be safe for long. We need to find a way to cross the Sighing Wall before then. Things in the forest may give us some trouble—”
“Lord?”
The camp seemed to come alive. In just a few minutes, the pale blue horizon grew claws in this direction; the wind seemed to awaken, raging violently, stirring countless branches and leaves, coalescing into a black river. Stars of light began to emerge in the forest; that was the signal of rampant magical energy drifting away from the material world.
In a state of disarray, everyone finally gathered. Brendel checked each individual, ensuring no one was left behind, and turned to see Nemeses staring at the horizon with an uncertain expression. “I feel like I’ve seen that before…” she muttered.
Brendel knew she had indeed experienced it, but those memories had probably fragmented into pieces long ago. He wasn’t sure how many memories she retained from that time. But Nemeses seemed to recall something; she turned to look at Brendel: “Brendel, do you know something…?”
“Let’s discuss this later.” Brendel gazed at the forest that seemed to suddenly shake as if it was an active creature; this magical tide was the second recorded wave in history. The sorcerers of the Tower of Stars and Moon documented this tide, which arrived earlier than expected, by about three months.
Though it was unclear what it meant, the outside world was certainly engulfed in extreme panic. The second wave crossed the borders of the lands of order, affecting Erluin, southern Cruz, Erlandta, and some areas bordering the Great Glacier; records noted that many places observed solar eclipses, day turning to night, tides of magical beasts, or similar phenomena.
Brendel was somewhat worried about Antinna and Romaine, but he believed they should be able to handle matters within the territory. For now, the Crusian people should ostensibly be on their side; otherwise, dealing with the Temple of Fire at this juncture wouldn’t be favorable.
“Lord, what should we do now?” a knight approached respectfully to inquire.
Brendel glanced toward the forest.
The dark woods resembled a living being, with the scattered magical energy acting as countless eyes, the swaying tree canopies akin to wild hair. It opened a gaping maw, waiting for uninvited guests to intrude.
But after a short delay, the party still advanced toward the forest. Beyond this ruin lay the Sighing Wall; Brendel understood well what lay in wait there.
But the magic tide was coming too swiftly.
Most tents had been abandoned, as there was no time to pack up. The howling wind swept them into the air, yet no one dared to look back; everyone charged into the forest ahead against the wind. At this moment, someone in the group suddenly exclaimed:
“Oh my, what is that!”
“Ah!” Brendel heard Peiya’s terrified scream and turned to see in the distance a knightly group glowing faintly, slowly advancing through the forest.
He felt as though he had seen that troop before.
……
(PS: Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone on the 14th! Wuwuwuwu, I’ve been busy all day again!) (To be continued. If you like this work, feel free to come to Qidian (qidian.com) to vote with recommendations and monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)
