Chapter 898: Act 74 – Millennial Convergence IV
“Below the Anzeruta Mountains lies an ancient Dwarven kingdom, a branch of the Broken Sword Mountain range. This kingdom accidentally breached a massive beehive while digging tunnels, and after that, the underground became filled with monsters. The kingdom subsequently fell, and the remaining Dwarves migrated westward, leading to the loss of the map to the underground kingdom. Now, that dark labyrinth is fraught with dangers and traversing it requires unimaginable risks. Even disregarding these difficulties, it would not be possible for the Dwarves to excavate a passage connecting these lost tunnels from the hard rock layers in a matter of months,” answered Nemeses.
Upon Nemeses’s reminder, Brendel recalled the matter as well. He was not as familiar with Cruz as he was with Erluin, hence his inquiry.
After hearing about the strange incidents involving Earl Ji’en, he was first inclined to suspect these nobles were playing some kind of conspiracy, but soon thought of what trick the Lionmen of Toquinin had played to bypass Lokos—just as the Broken Sword Mountain fortress had historically attacked the Empire. It was a premonition that had long been lurking in his mind, but after discussing it, he realized there was no likelihood of it. His thoughts, which had started to clarify, returned to chaos, and he had to pause to wait for further intelligence.
Twenty minutes later, the first batch of gargoyles sent to Valgris finally returned. Medisa approached him holding the manifestation crystal she had disassembled from one of the gargoyles and hesitated before speaking, “My Lord…”
“What is it?”
Medisa slightly shook her head. Unlike Charles’s flippancy, this Silver Elf Princess never made grand claims or guarantees. She simply handed the crystalline artifact to Brendel, “Please take a look yourself, My Lord.”
Brendel received the manifestation crystal—this recording crystal was not uncommon in Vaunte, but it was far from ordinary. It could record sound images lasting three to five minutes and preserve them for years or even decades. The Bud people dared to place them on every gargoyle, evidencing the riches of the mages. He infused it with magic, and the crystal emitted a soft glow, presenting the scenes the gargoyle had seen soaring through the skies. In the images, the forest looked like a thick carpet, with patches of differing shades marking farmland scattered with red-roofed houses, barns, windmills, or other structures.
No one spoke. Nemeses and Brendel recognized that this was the countryside of Valgris, a sight of imperial pastoral beauty, but they soon saw something eerie—the gargoyle flying above the town found the red roofs becoming denser. Several roads, like veins, crossed a bustling market, yet in this enormous town, there were no pedestrians on the streets, and even the dense groves showed no flocks of birds, resembling a ghost town. They went on to discover odd things in Valgris’s square—what looked like scattered granules of sand. Brendel carefully discerned that these were indeed humans or similar beings, but they stood eerily motionless in the square, like statues.
“What’s going on?” Charles exclaimed, “Is it possible that a sudden monster attack occurred near Valgris? Has the entire area been assaulted by Gorgon Dragons or petrifying lizards?”
Brendel shook his head. Gorgon Dragons were not social creatures; they mostly acted alone outside of mating seasons, and petrifying lizards had very strong territorial instincts, unlikely to recklessly invade human territory. It was improbable that these two types of monsters had transformed a human town into a ghostly place. The only possibility was that this was an organized assault, and he already had a suspect in mind. He turned his gaze to Nemeses and saw the same suspicion reflected in her dark eyes.
“It must be the Minions of the Serpent Queen, the cursed ones for eternity.”
“Medusas,” Charles gasped, “Aren’t they underground in Jotungrund? How could they easily surface?”
Indeed, underground dwellers would not easily venture into the surface world. They would have to traverse through the massive beehive above the ‘dome,’ cross the underground cavity areas in the ‘subsurface’ and subterranean waterlogged riverways—a long and dangerous journey. Tagib and his kin had once walked this path, and countless Troglodytes had died along the way from various fates, magical beasts, and, most horrifyingly, diseases and starvation. Yet it had proven that if necessary, they were still bold enough to attempt such a venture; it was a unique trait of the denizens of the deep.
“I remember,” Brendel pondered aloud, “the inhabitants of Jotungrund also worship the Goddess of the Earth, right?”
“That’s impossible!” Charles replied, somewhat astonished. “The underground inhabitants worship the goddess above, while those above worship the goddess below. Though the two beliefs have the same origin, that was a millennium ago. Since the Great Schism, Dwarves and Lionmen on the surface have ceased to interact with the underground Dwarves and other races. How could they come together? Moreover, is there even enough time for them to establish contact?”
Before the Great Schism, both the surface and underground worshiped the same goddess, but since the War of the Saints and various issues surrounding faith, the current Hallowed Temple of Earth no longer resembled its former self. The three sacred relics once housed in the temple located in the Broken Sword Mountains had all gone missing. After that, many sects that originally worshiped the Goddess of Earth became embroiled in conflict. The two most significant factions—Toquinin and Jotungrund—had long parted ways, which had occurred a millennium ago.
Brendel was well aware of this, but at this moment, a darker thought circled in his mind: what were the Lionmen waiting for on the other side of Lokos—the fortress of the Broken Sword Mountains?
He looked to Nemeses, who was frowning slightly yet nodded at him.
“What are the chances?” he asked, alluding.
“If the attackers are indeed from Jotungrund, then the Lionmen’s strange behavior is likely over eight out of ten connected to it,” the Lady Knight answered calmly.
Everyone fell silent, calculating if the Gold-maned Lionmen of Toquinin united with the underground residents of Jotungrund to launch a flanking attack on Lokos—the fortress of the Broken Sword Mountains—whether this defensive line could hold. “Lokos—the fortress of the Broken Sword Mountains is likely in danger.” Even Charles was startled to hear himself say it. Despite considering himself knowledgeable, understanding the Empire’s strength came from detailed data, analysis, and rational deliberation, akin to a formidable Cruz golden eagle woven from feathers, sophisticated to the finest detail, yet its sharp claws and beak emphasized its true might.
Lokos—the fortress of the Broken Sword Mountains had long been a defensive line carefully maintained by the Empire. It stood amidst towering mountain ranges, with its frosts and snows forming its sturdiness, and the jagged rocks serving as its blades. The severe climate told tales of its mercilessness and indifference; it was an insurmountable natural barrier. Even if the Lionmen could seize one or two fortresses within, claiming to breach the entire defensive line was a frivolous joke in anyone’s mind.
Yet this statement seemed unusually calm in Brendel and Nemeses’s ears; it was something they had anticipated. The shock brought by the first and second attacks was utterly different. They had witnessed the impregnable line fall in history, making them oddly composed now. “Although it’s mere conjecture, we must prepare for the worst. We must assume everything is true. Where is Jotungrund’s army now, how large is it, and what are the loss estimations for Lokos—the fortress of the Broken Sword Mountains? We must reassess everything, especially the imminent threat—the army of Jotungrund that annihilated Earl Orkans’ forces—do they know of our existence? We must first confirm the danger surrounding us.” Brendel considered and replied accordingly.
Nemeses looked at him and nodded in agreement.
Charles glanced at his lord with astonishment, “By Martha, my Lord, I almost thought you graduated from the Royal Knight Academy! These are the mercenary’s knowledge. When did you learn this from Juliette?”
That compliment hit the mark, and Brendel couldn’t help but chuckle, “There’s much you don’t know.”
“It must be so; otherwise, why would you be the Lord, and I just a little follower?” Charles teased lightly, unconcerned.
Medisa stifled a laugh beside them, then asked, “My Lord, what should we do next?”
“First, call everyone here. This is a significant matter; they need to be informed.”
“Otherwise, that Duke’s daughter will say you don’t respect them again,” Medisa replied with a smile, “acting unilaterally and obstinately.”
“Indeed, I’m almost tired of her,” Brendel sighed, pretending to be helpless.
The little princess couldn’t help but giggle.
…
“Get the hell out! Damn bastards!”
Rogers shouted furiously, stabbing a Troglodyte in the chest with his sword before kicking it down the stairs with his boot. But due to his excessive force, he couldn’t even pull out his sword and could only watch it tumble down into the dark corridor along with that disgusting creature. In that brief moment, he saw a flicker of light flash in the darkness and, feeling alarmed, quickly ducked down. With two thuds, two spears lodged into the doorframe above his head, their tails still quivering. He was startled and hurriedly stepped back to close the door, then dragged over a cabinet and bed to barricade it tightly.
A moment later, there came two heavy crashing sounds against the door, followed by a shrill, piercing scream.
Rogers finally sighed in relief, bloodied and turning around to glance at the three others left in the empty room—just four remained out of twelve. Since the Nidwen era, the Cruz royalty had planted spies throughout the Empire, and they were the inner court knights stationed at the Hilarat Manor. Their task was not to participate in local defense; the monsters were purely a random encounter that had plagued them, overpowering them overnight and forcing them to flee into this farm for safety.
Yet in reality, everyone understood that this so-called safety might not last much longer.
A tall man with curly hair was leaving a window. As he lowered the curtain, the light in the room dimmed immediately. Then he shrugged to the others, “Wow, they’ve surrounded us outside. Seems like they plan to make us pay. Rogers, you’ve killed quite a few of those creepy things, so I reckon they don’t plan to let you off lightly. Any last words? If I miraculously survive, I can help engrave them on your tombstone—”
“Lord Rogers, Zecu is already beyond saving,” a female knight in one corner said, looking up from her blood-soaked companion with sorrow. The knight she held had a deep wound visible to the bone on his chest. It was not fatal, but the real fatal injury was at the back of his head, where she supported him while blood trickled down like a stream along her hand.
“Pray for him, Nasha,” Rogers sighed.
The only person in the room who remained silent was a young man in a robe, who was focused on placing the parchment he held into the fire in the middle of the room. He kept his head low, and the dark depths of his eyes only reflected the bright flames. It was as if this task was a matter of great sanctity to him.
Rogers glanced at this young man and shook his head before asking the others, “What was that? Did you see clearly?”
“Have you heard? It’s said to be a meteor—hey, too bad I didn’t get to make a wish,” the tall man continued, “but we encountered these Troglodytes halfway. I suspect there’s some connection here since these creatures typically wouldn’t emerge on the surface.”
Rogers remained silent for a moment before confidently saying, “I feel this matter is not that simple. We must find a way to notify Her Majesty.”
The female knight silently whispered prayers for her companion’s soul, and only then did the young man who was burning documents raise his head to glance at the others, succinctly replying, “Impossible.”
“Impossible?” Rogers stared at this comrade, who was the most outstanding wizard among them. No matter the circumstances, he could always relay magical messages.
The young man remained quiet, only extending his fingers. Everyone saw a flicker of flame appear between his fingertips, but it was fleeting, leaving behind faint gold and crimson lines that soon vanished into the air.
“What’s going on?” the tall man exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief, “Did your spells fail? That can’t be, Kew, you’re the best.”
The young man glanced at them and replied, “Magic destabilized.”
“What do you mean?” Rogers frowned.
“Something is interfering with the laws.”
“What is it?”
“More powerful spells, artifacts, or some unknown entities,” the boy replied.
Rogers’s expression grew serious, “If all these coincidences align, it’s likely not a coincidence. Kew, Nasha, Trevor, we might be facing the worst situation.”
“What situation could be worse than the current one?” the tall man asked.
Before he could finish his sentence, a heavy crashing noise came from outside the door, followed by a sharp crack. A crack appeared in the wooden door. The tall man stared blankly in that direction, and the others shot him irritated glances, prompting him to shrug helplessly, “Alright, I’m the harbinger of bad luck; forget I said anything!”
Rogers, meanwhile, unbuckled his sword from the severely injured knight and addressed the others, “We have to attempt a breakout. Her Majesty is waiting for our news.”
Saying this, he drew his sword.
…
Brendel’s orders began to come through one by one; the perimeter of the embassy was first expanded, with gargoyles continually flying overhead to guard against the possible existence of Jotungrund’s army. However, the wide-open hills and forest regions surrounding the embassy showed no signs of abnormalities. Brendel further expanded the search range and dispatched young cavalry from the White Lion Guard to Valgris and Leafwood Avenue. His efforts did not go to waste, as soon enough, these scouts uncovered valuable intelligence.
The cavalry avoided main roads, entering the Valgris and Leafwood Avenue regions along the winding countryside paths. They encountered no Jotungrund soldiers, but as they passed near a village called Tuya close to Valgris, they happened upon a small squad of Troglodytes besieging a nearby farm. The captain of the scouts, a cadet from the Royal Knight Academy, quickly decided that there were likely survivors within the manor and immediately led his men to repel the Troglodytes and rescue those inside.
Brendel soon met these individuals.
They were a group of four—three men and one woman—brought before Brendel by the scouting cavalry, looking somewhat disheveled. These people dressed like the most ordinary gentlemen of the Empire, donning thick woolen coats, feathered hats, and deerskin boots, but their expressions displayed great resolve. Though stained with blood and dirt, two of them bore significant injuries, they showed no signs of fear or confusion, merely fatigue. It was only upon a second glance that Brendel noticed they all bore long swords. While their sword styles varied greatly, their grips were quite standard—neither resembling the ostentatious shows of nobility nor the disciplined postures of soldiers, but akin to knights of the inner court.
Brendel thought for a moment and quickly understood their identities. He could not help but feel a sense of luck for his scouts, having brought back a few spies from the Cruz royal family. Upon reflection, he realized that only these highly skilled court knights could survive in such a sudden assault and make it this far.
As Brendel assessed these inner court knights, Rogers was simultaneously evaluating this Lord Earl. To put it accurately, he recognized the man—on the contrary, he was very much aware of the Earl’s identity and origins, even including everything that transpired from the Black Sword Barrier until the man’s arrival. In fact, the news of Erluin’s embassy reaching here was precisely sent by him, sealed in a letter with a sevenfold flame emblem, stamped with the seal of Hilarat Manor and delivered to the White Rose Garden.
In the earlier battle, he had initially thought he was doomed, but unexpectedly, at the last moment, these Cruz scouts had saved him. Upon seeing those oddly dressed cavalrymen, he understood their identities, but prior to meeting Brendel, he had only heard of this Earl from rumors. He hadn’t anticipated that the leader of the Erluin embassy would be so young, so young that it inevitably sparked some doubt within him—did the Erluin people really trust someone so young with the role of leading the embassy?
He suddenly began to understand the reasons behind the series of troubles this Earl had caused earlier.
With such thoughts, Rogers and several of his colleagues slightly bowed to Brendel, a knightly gesture not concerning social hierarchy but merely a show of gratitude for the assistance provided by the Erluin people.
……
