Chapter 990: Act 163 – Stone of War: Dragon Skin IX
Beneath the undulating mountains and hills of East Mez, shrouded in low-hanging clouds and mist, lies a complex of caves buried deep underground. Countless ruins intertwine within, where numerous beings and the undead thrive, venturing out at night and retreating by day. Ancient legends about them have been passed down through songs and stories in Mez; elders occasionally bring up these spine-chilling tales, which husbands use to admonish their wives and mothers use to scare their children. The terrors of the night and the whispers through the forest dissipate with the summer and autumn winds, lingering for centuries.
This dark power is held solely by a few of the most powerful dark lords—referred to as the ‘Dukes.’ Historically, there have been three such Dukes in Mez. The first was Baron Snowy of Owesen, who wielded dark powers for thirty years before and thirty years after his death. He was once exalted as a saint and was also a profoundly skilled necromancer. He lived a deceitful life until he was unearthed from his grave sixty years posthumously, his bones turned to ash and scattered, with his authority sealed within a crown, stored in the underground prison of Thistle Island, only to be stolen during turbulent times and eventually lost. The second was the infamous witch Ludwig, who had many followers in the Silver Valley Forest, attracting dark-hearted wizards, robbers, and mercenaries into her well-cultivated cult. In those days, it was common knowledge that the day belonged to the Duke, while the night was ruled by the witch queen. Even the gentle breeze that whispered through the trees dared not mention her name; travelers fell silent, and merchants and knights refrained from approaching the forest after dark. This witch ultimately met her end at the hands of the paladin Lud, her heart pierced upon a wooden stake in the Sweet Port Ember Temple, where holy flames burned incessantly. It is said that chilling screams still emanate from within, and the area around the temple is perpetually filled with cold winds, causing passersby to steer clear. Even today, the statue of Paladin Lud stands proud at the Golden Square in Fatan Port, allowing travelers to behold the visage of this heroic knight. The third was the master of Balia, Duke Golden Flame, who possessed power among the living that matched his status in the dark world, leading a life of extreme decadence and selfishness. He was cursed by passersby as the Demon Duke. His favored minister, Victor, was actually Lord Rocklair, a member of the Blood Shepherds. He had publicly provoked the majesty of the Temple of Fire multiple times, ultimately dying on the pyre. After his downfall, none of his close associates escaped unscathed; Victor—Rocklair remains imprisoned in the Empire’s most secure dungeon. His authority is sealed in the underground sanctum of the Great Temple of Owesen, sealed by four saints, with a fire-cherished knight vowing to guard it with his life.
“So-called authority is, in fact, the power of the Dark Jewel.” In the silent depths of the underground world, light beams cascading from above seem like the only source of illumination, the flickering spots dancing in the darkness and shrouding the air in a layer of mist. A white voice echoed in the empty hall, with grains of sand occasionally slipping down from above, but no one paid attention:
“An explorer discovered this treasure in the cavern maze beneath the Hindswood, bringing it out and eventually passing it to a merchant named Rodrian, who later plotted against a high-ranking mage of the Everything Returns Society. The Dark Jewel then came into possession of that mage, who extracted its power using the ancient evil artifact, the Book of Mavicart, crafting a skeletal staff, a ring, and a crown—three treasures that command the undead and are regarded as supreme treasures of the undead world. They were subsequently possessed by the aforementioned three individuals, with the skeletal crown already lost to history, and the purple crystal ring destroyed by Paladin Lud. Only the skeletal staff is sealed beneath the holy sanctum of Owesen.”
So it was a Dark Jewel; Brendel suddenly understood. Like the Ice Jewel, the Dark Jewel is a holy relic of the dark elements and the source of all negative magic, which is why it can command the undead formed under negative magical influence. However, that high-ranking mage from the Everything Returns Society could actually extract power from the Dark Jewel using the Book of Mavicart—the ancient evil artifact—clearly indicated he was no ordinary person, likely a notable figure from the organization’s history.
“Is this what you are after?”
“To be precise, we seek the skeletal staff. I killed that fire-cherished knight, and the skeletal staff is now in the hands of Duke Ambronner.”
“The commander of the White Legion?”
The man nodded.
Brendel suddenly recalled something. “By the way, is Amann’s transformation into an undead related to you?” He inquired, “If Amann can access the Book of Mavicart, he must be a genuine high-ranking member of the Everything Returns Society, but such high-ranking members would never accept an undead. He must have become one afterward.” He paused, casting a deep glance at the man. “You Blood Shepherds have managed to infiltrate the Everything Returns Society?”
The infiltration tactics of the Everything Returns Society, as seen in Amber Sword, are unparalleled. An organization with such strong infiltration capabilities would naturally not lag in counter-infiltration efforts, perhaps even surpassing it, making it hard not to be astonished.
“Infiltration? That’s not quite correct,” the man replied with remarkable self-awareness. “Tempting Amann was merely my personal action; that man seeks eternal immortality. I saw through his ambition and was able to convince him to join us.” A cold smile spread across her pale features: “Eternal immortality—only a madperson would pursue such a thing. A rational person would never chase after something so ethereal.”
The Black Rose of Broamente is said to embody immortality and eternity; to hear such words from a dark noble in Madara intrigued Brendel. “I see. No wonder Andisha recognized him, but they didn’t seem to get along well back then. Amann didn’t join the Blood Shepherds?”
“He had no interest in the Blood Shepherds. That man is truly a selfish worm. Everything he does is for his own benefit; he lives only for himself and cannot comprehend our pursuits. We would never accept someone like him,” the man said indifferently.
“What about you? You tempted him for the Book of Mavicart, didn’t you?”
“Indeed, I exchanged the secret of eternal immortality for the hope of acquiring a counterfeit of the Book of Mavicart from him.” She glanced at him with her golden gaze, “To my knowledge, that high-ranking mage of the Everything Returns Society originally extracted the power of the Dark Jewel using a counterfeit of the Book of Mavicart.”
“You seem rather obsessed with the power of the Dark Jewel—” Brendel asked, confused. “Wait a moment, you said the high-ranking mage of the Everything Returns Society used a counterfeit of the Book of Mavicart to extract the Dark Jewel’s power, and you want a counterfeit from Amann. Have you already found the Dark Jewel?”
The flames of gold flickered in the man’s eyes, but she didn’t answer that question.
“It seems you guessed correctly, Brendel. She not only found the Dark Jewel but it appears the Dark Jewel is most likely right here—in this hall,” Bai Jia interjected with a smile.
Bai suddenly turned around, glaring fiercely at the lady knight, but understanding that it would do no good, she let out a light sigh. “Yes, I’m confident that I have found the Dark Jewel.”
Brendel and Bai Jia exchanged glances, both surprised to see the astonishment in each other’s eyes. The Dark Jewel had disappeared after the high-ranking mage of the Everything Returns Society, and even the three treasures made from the power extracted from it had passed through three different people over several centuries. After another hundred years, the skeletal crown vanished without a trace, and the purple crystal ring was utterly destroyed. To his astonishment, this woman harbored such ambition, aiming not for the three treasures but directly for the Dark Jewel itself.
Moreover, from her words, she seemed to have been planning this long before, at least earlier than the time when he traversed here.
This woman’s schemes were far too deep and calm. Had they not known her too well, perhaps this time she would not have suffered such a great loss.
“If I am not mistaken, the Dark Jewel should have been acquired by Roslin’s wife,” Bai continued, “but at that time, the power within the Jewel inexplicably left it and flowed into her body, akin to the blood of a god. This can only be the work of the Blood Shepherds; given that you suspect Glasse is a Blood Shepherd, I believe it supports my theory. I think a high-ranking member of the Blood Shepherds extracted the power from the Dark Jewel, creating a pure god’s blood, while Roslin’s wife was probably just an intermediate-level believer of the Blood Shepherds— a deity’s envoy, an experimental subject.”
“Dark God’s blood,” Brendel suddenly stated.
Bai glanced at him. “Did you see it from Andisha?”
Brendel remained silent, merely nodding slightly.
“That should relate to the Dark Jewel, but it’s not pure; it likely derived from Glasse’s experiment as a secondary product. In this world, there exists only one true emissary of the Dark God, and that is her,” Bai scoffed. “Her power is so pure and potent. Otherwise, do you think the Temple of Fire would merely imprison her? Being burned on the pyre is her only fate.”
“Is this the true reason you are here?” Brendel asked, turning to Roslin, who stood quietly by. The pale light illuminated the flickering bones, casting deep shadows in the gaps between them. The golden flames in the empty eye sockets burned brightly, showing no response to their conversation. He did not know if it could hear their words, but this knight surely loved his wife dearly, else he would not have sacrificed his honor and everything, even enduring endless pain in death to guard her.
This is true noble and sincere love, transcending life and death, rising above all in this world.
Yet beautiful things are often easily exploited by evil, just like what lies before them. Brendel stared at the undead knight for a long moment, then turned to Bai and asked: “Do you intend to trade with it, to take the power of the Dark Jewel from its wife’s body?”
“Do you mean to stop me?”
“Shouldn’t I?” Brendel retorted.
Bai smiled coldly. “But if I do not take the Dark God’s blood away, that poor woman’s soul will be eternally sealed here, enduring suffering and torment, while Sir Roslin—a righteous and noble knight—must exist in the very state he despised most in life, surviving in this dark underworld, silently guarding, yet without the ability to see his beloved face. Two pure souls are forever bound here, day after day, year after year, with only darkness to endure.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Medephis, who had been listening with confusion, asked, unable to comprehend such mortal attachments. To him, there were only hunters and prey, masters and servants; nothing else mattered—except for food. He devoted all the beauty of his life to death and loyalty, and Brendel only needed a glance to make him willingly perish.
However, Brendel and Bai Jia fell into silence.
“My lord, there are many forces in this world. As long as you abandon principles, they are within easy reach. For someone like me, there is no difference between the powers of the Dark Jewel, the Book of Mavicart, or any other power. I will ultimately gain strength and commit evils in this world; it does not matter how I obtain that power. The current outcome is already the best result; why then be fixed by tradition? Besides, only by persuading Roslin can you take that stone slab out of here safely; it’s a win-win deal for both of us, isn’t it?”
Bai’s voice resonated in the dark underground, like a devilish whisper filled with captivating allure.
“Since you know I will kill you, why pursue this?” Brendel asked coldly.
The flames burned fiercely in Bai’s eyes, and she smiled, revealing her sharp white teeth. “I don’t believe in inevitability. As long as there exists a glimmer of opportunity, it’s worth my utmost effort.”
“Then why should I grant you this chance to turn the tables?” Brendel continued. “Unlike you, I am a cautious person, eager to keep everything under my control.”
Bai fell silent, seeming to trust that Brendel would ultimately change his mind. Then, at that moment, a deep and aged voice echoed from the darkness:
“Let her come forward, young man.”
All three turned their heads simultaneously; the tall, pale skeletal knight’s golden flames danced in its eye sockets. It creaked as it turned to face Bai, a hollow and weathered voice emanating from its chest. “You say you can lift the curse on Glasse, releasing her from this endless suffering?”
This was not a mindless undead—
“Sir Roslin—” Brendel was the first to react. He hurriedly spoke to stop her. This woman was far too terrifying; although she did not seem to be lying, who could guarantee it? But the skeleton knight merely waved him off gently, interrupting him. “I have been listening for a long time. You three are quite familiar with my life; would you care to sit and hear what this old man has to say?”
Brendel and Bai Jia exchanged stunned glances. Bai offered no response, her gaze flickered as if deep in thought. Finally, Brendel nodded and replied, “Please go ahead.”
The undead knight fell silent for a moment, and its deep voice echoed in the darkness: “I was born in the countryside of Granou. Throughout my life, I have seen many people and many things; some memories I recall, while others have slipped my mind. But for the present me, they all remain only endless pain and torment. My love for Glasse has now become nothing but an oath and a binding; the feelings belonging to humanity are long gone. Yet amidst the darkness, a thought often flashes in my mind—I wish to see her once more. Once this thought takes root, it cannot be suppressed—”
“I no longer know if this is love, but I only wish to see her, young man. I have experienced more in my life than perhaps you have, yet at this moment, I do not dare to boast before you. I simply wish to ask if you could grant the wish of an old man.”
“I devoted my life to Martha, yet never saw the light—”
The sigh in the darkness felt like sand in the wind; after the grains scattered, only endless desolation remained.
Brendel and Bai Jia fell into deep contemplation, unable to find their voices for a long time. “I devoted my life to Martha, yet never saw the light”—but as fellow seekers of ideals, might they also meet such an end one day? In this world, does giving truly yield rewards, or are such notions merely kind lies and comfort, whispers shared among the despairing in darkness?
What if this darkness had never known light?
“Then let me ignite this spark—” an uncontrollable thought arose silently in Brendel’s mind.
Bai remained concealed in their shadows, silent as ever. Yet Brendel knew she had succeeded. He let out a sigh; some things in this world may be wrong, yet one is compelled to act because the force named humanity, alongside the brilliance of reason, shines even in darkness. “Perhaps what we need is not cold, hard correctness, elder sister,” he softly remarked to Bai Jia.
Bai remained unresponsive.
In that moment, she suddenly recalled the Empire named Mardos.
