Chapter 196: Land of Dragons (Part 3)
On the cracked and desolate ground, a solitary young woman stood beside the deceased priest, her black hair gently swaying in the wind. Above her, the sky rumbled with purple lightning. Through the dead trees nearby, you could vaguely see in the far distance, a bizarre storm swirling over a wasteland, with some flickering golden light dancing amidst it.
The roar of a massive beast echoed, accompanied by the sound of iron hooves trampling the cracked earth, gradually approaching from that direction.
I turned my head.
Suddenly, several beast-riding clerics burst through the trees at breakneck speed, halting just a short distance away. The leading man looked haggard, his robe somewhat dirty. He was taken aback at the sight before him, his gaze quickly scanning a few corpses before locking onto my face.
“You are…”
At that moment, someone beside him spoke up, “Wait, black hair and black eyes… an underage girl…”
“Y-You… no, you are…” The man’s eyes widened suddenly. “You are Silvya?!”
“Yes, definitely can’t be wrong…”
“Silvya!”
Before I knew it, they had confirmed my identity on their own. They hurriedly dismounted their beasts and rushed toward me, their expressions turning extremely excited. The leading man was the first to reach me, bowing along with the five clerics behind him.
“Silvya!” His tone was invigorating, “You’ve finally arrived! It’s like the deities are blessing us… On behalf of all members of the Faith Organization resisting the heretics with their lives, I extend our sincerest respect to you!”
“You are…”
Looking at their unfamiliar, flushed faces, I suddenly recalled Jeffrey Priest’s last actions, and my heart sank with understanding.
“You are from the Land of Dragons…”
“We are clerics of the Faith Organization stationed at the ruins! Silvya, please, you must come with me to the battlefield!”
After the formalities, there was no time for polite chit-chat. The man, who looked around forty, was so excited upon seeing me that he acted like a child. His voice cried out with fervor, eyes glistening with a tinge of madness, overwhelmed with excitement to the point of tears, his voice trembling.
“The Land of Dragons is about to open, and the demons trapped inside will soon emerge! All the remaining clerics and warriors from the Church are over there… this is the last battle! Those two damned heretics, we fought desperately… but we are too powerless to stop them—”
His eyes were red as he choked on his words and tightly grasped my hand. “Silvya, we have no time left; this is our last chance… otherwise… if the heretics succeed…”
He was at a loss for words, his face full of urgency and pleading.
The Land of Dragons was about to open…
My heart abruptly sank, and I could no longer hesitate. Quickly, I told the cleric, “Lead the way,” and strode towards the Horned Horse, the clerics hurriedly following. After a few strides, I hesitated and turned back to look.
Behind me were the corpse of Jeffrey Priest and those three young clerics.
They had no breath left.
“Silvya…”
Seeing me stop, the man thought I was hesitant or worried; he anxiously shouted my name, likely wanting to say something.
I waved my hand and pointed at the bodies behind me, murmuring, “It was them. They gave their all to bring me here.”
The clerics looked over, then fell silent.
This was the teleportation node they had just established. When they came before, they merely glanced, but witnessing the state of the corpses, they probably understood how their companions had transported me.
“That’s Jeffrey Priest…”
“Little Oxy, I knew him…”
Among the clerics, some recognized the deceased, while others might have been friends. There was a look of sadness on their faces, but more, it was an understanding and unabashed respect from the heart.
They were the same kind of people, born for the same faith.
“Jeffrey Priest and the others… used themselves as a medium…”
“But the ancient and mighty divine powers are far beyond what mortal bodies can withstand… they are remarkable heroes.”
As they spoke, the clerics collectively turned around, their right fists pounding their chests, paying the highest tribute to the already deceased.
“Salute to the heroes!”
Salute to the heroes…
I silently recited in my heart, mimicking their actions.
From Silgaya all the way here, countless people, countless warriors, fought for glory, for faith, to protect the millions of citizens of the Western Continent…
In the end, they all became such heroes.
Dead heroes.
Such heroes, even if they lied to me or intended to hide something, those matters became trivial in light of their deeds.
I only hope there will be fewer heroes like this in the future.
The moment of silent mourning didn’t last long; beyond the salute, there was no time for anything more solemn. We didn’t even have time to collect the bodies. As the clerics once again mounted their beasts, I took the outstretched arm of the leading cleric and got onto the Horned Horse behind him, gripping the bl**d-stained hem of his robe, taking a deep breath to calm my restless emotions.
In my pitch-black eyes, there shone an unwavering determination.
“Ha—”
The cleric urged the Horned Horse to move forward, the iron hooves pounding as they galloped over the cracked earth, racing through the dead trees.
The wind howled in my ears as thick branches intertwined high above, ancient and decaying wooden houses perched between the trees, some even hanging from the branches. Most of the houses had collapsed, with blackened, corrupt substances clinging to them, looking ancient beyond recall.
Yet, even so, seeing these withering behemoths still standing tall after thousands of years, and the countless strange old houses still visible, I could still imagine the grand scenes of this ruin in its prosperous days.
They say this was once home to fairies.
In this world, it was supposed to be so much more colorful, as described in many enchanting novels: fairies, dragons, and various other mysterious races. If they could coexist peacefully, what a marvelous prospect it would be!
But war tears apart all beautiful hopes, and those races were ultimately buried by history. After hundreds of years, the only ones who remain in this world are the “humans,” the victors.
Even so, the war continues.
When will it end?
Perhaps it may never be possible.
But…
What I can do, if I give it my all, perhaps I could change something.
Even just a little.
Change something…
To see things gradually improve.
That would be enough.
Thud, thud, thud…
The galloping Horned Horse rushed through the vast dead woods, its sturdy hooves stepping into the marshes covered in shallow grass, splashing through dirty puddles. The covered marsh wasn’t very large, and soon after we skirted a mud pit, a verdant expanse of grassland appeared in our sight.
