Chapter 114: Let Us Begin Our Last Journey Together (Two-in-One)
The scene in the light curtain changed rapidly.
From a dark alley, after several twists and turns, avoiding those maids on duty outside… they finally arrived at the magnificent palace.
They ran side by side into the back door of the palace, ascending the stairs together.
Minutes later, accompanied by Rast’s gentle goodnight, the lights in the chamber window went out.
As the soul-bound target of the shadow crystal—Akshia, or rather Queen Helen of the Underworld from the Sixth Epoch, returned to her palace.
The images in the light curtain fell silent once again.
Returning to Helen’s unchanged, calm, and peaceful daily routine, which had remained the same for decades.
The playback speed of the images was once again accelerated, adjusted from a one-to-one speed back to several dozens of times the speed.
Such monotonous palace time had already cycled countless times in the light curtain… At this moment, even Mr. Silver was yawning repeatedly.
It had even become bored enough to wander aimlessly in the hall of the Tower of Secrets, chasing its own tail in circles, occasionally playing with its own shadow.
Like a silly cat.
But on the other side of the hall—
Ophelia’s demeanor was entirely different from that of Mr. Silver.
Although she had previously expressed weariness toward such tedious content… at this moment, as she gazed at the scene in the light curtain, her wine-red eyes sparkled with interest.
“Rast…”
Clearly, earlier, this name was mentioned by Ophelia in a nonchalant tone.
However, at this moment, as the young princess spoke this name, there was an inexplicable weight in her words.
No longer with labels like “Sister’s classmate” or “Possible future brother-in-law” that derived meaning from her connection with Hiltina.
Instead, it was recognized as an independent individual, catching the attention of this little swan of the empire.
“Then, let me see.”
“To make my sister change in a way that even I could not achieve…”
“Does it have the weight to match her?”
Ophelia’s words were soft, as if she were speaking to herself, unheard except by a silver weasel.
However, in Mr. Silver’s ears, it sent a slight chill through its heart, causing it to lose interest in playing with its tail for a moment.
“What is little Tina thinking in that little head of hers?”
Mr. Silver’s beastly eyes flashed with suspicion.
Although within the imperial capital, both the royal family and various nobles… evaluated Ophelia as “the little swan of the empire,” “the flawless princess,” “His Majesty Aaron’s most perfect heir,” showering her with generous praises.
As the greatest victim of Ophelia’s magic claws, Mr. Silver knew very well that beneath the lofty and flawless exterior of the little princess lay another side.
Not only was she a white cat-black heart type, but she was also an outright sister complex… it wasn’t just a deep sisterly bond, but a slightly pathological kind.
The previous saying, “to prevent sister from being cuckolded, we need to deal with any potential cheating cat first,” though said in a joking manner by Ophelia, was far from a joke.
And now, Ophelia actually seemed to have developed some interest in Rast himself…
This matter could only be described as terrifying upon further contemplation, terrifying enough that even Mr. Silver dared not delve deeper into it.
It feared someone wanted to silence the weasel.
…
Inside the palace, in a servant-exclusive room.
Candlelights flickered, illuminating Rast’s eyes.
He sat at the desk, calmly writing something with a steel pen.
The distinctly shaped characters were neatly transcribed onto the paper, as if they were printed text.
Beside the desk lay a stack of old books, which Rast occasionally reached out to flip through before continuing to write.
In a corner of the room, on a bookshelf, there were already over a thousand handwritten manuscripts, many of which had been preliminarily compiled into volumes.
Suddenly, Rast paused in his movements, stopping the pen.
He raised his head, sensing something, and looked out at the night sky cloaked in darkness.
In the next moment, a crimson rainbow light pierced through the heavens.
Coming from the horizon, it instantly penetrated the solidified dusk outside the palace…
Then, it stopped right before Rast.
The light revealed its original form, a radiant rainbow bird that seemed to be formed from the sunlight.
The moment it paused at Rast’s fingertips, this shining rainbow bird silently ignited, reflecting a roll of illusory parchment.
[Discovery of the “Graveminder” legend’s traces, the earliest retrieval of the God of d*ath’s relics will be in seven days]
[“Lost Paradise” plan needs to be activated before then]
[Cecil Barzette]
When Rast finished reading and shifted his gaze from the roll of illusory parchment, the parchment ignited silently.
It burned with a blaze like the sun, yet it did not harm Rast in the slightest, leaving nothing but a warmth as pure as being bathed in sunlight.
After a moment, only the sun’s embers remained, scattering into countless light points, drifting into the night sky.
Undoubtedly, this secret letter came from the current leader of the Guardians, Cecil.
Only this “Sun” sequence legendary would take such action, capable of disregarding the vast distance that spanned from the Watchtower to Paradise, over half the continent…
Crossing through that solidified dusk, and also Helen’s realm as the Queen of the Underworld, delivering classified information to Rast in the first instance without anyone noticing.
As expected of the only confirmed human legend of this era.
But…
According to the words of Leader Cecil.
The “Graveminder”
This secret organization, which Cecil hid behind the scenes as the creator of civilization’s tombstones… had witnessed the rise and fall of several eras of civilization.
The first manifestation of the Sixth Epoch also involved a legendary figure.
Unlike Cecil… Cecil has been the absolute leader of the Guardians for hundreds of years, and the only legendary figure of the organization who represents the pinnacle of extraordinary beings in this age.
But the legendary figure of the “Graveminder” was merely the tip of the iceberg of this secret organization that spanned several eras.
To mobilize a legendary figure for a random probe… what level of existence would the leader or even the creator of the “Graveminder” be?
Eighth level? Ninth level?
Demigod? Angel?
Or perhaps… a true deity?
They had witnessed the rise and fall of multiple eras of civilization.
So does that mean the “Graveminder” possibly transcended the Sixth Epoch, existing at the present moment in history as well?
Moreover, among the very few entities Rast knew that could endure across multiple epochs.
Is there any undefined connection between the “Night World” and the “Graveminder”?
Rast—
Rast looked at the fragments of sunlight spilling from his fingertips, slowly adjusting his breathing, exhaling a long sigh.
The layers of these matters seemed too far removed from him at this moment; overthinking had little significance, simply wasting time.
At this moment, what he could do was focus on the “Lost Paradise” plan… the only opportunity to contact the “Graveminder,” to glimpse its hidden presence beneath the mist of history.
Rast adjusted his state and sat back down at the wooden desk.
Then, under the remaining candlelight in the room, he picked up his pen again and wrote several lines of text.
After completing this, Rast shook the bell in the room to summon one of the palace maids.
He approached the bookshelf in the corner of the room, discreetly stroking the spines of several newly compiled manuscripts.
“Please take these volumes as a gift to Her Majesty the Queen.”
As someone who enjoyed Queen Helen’s trust, or rather, favor, Rast naturally held a higher status than ordinary maids in the palace, so it was not surprising for them to help him a little.
Moreover, even setting aside his identity as a confidant of Her Majesty the Queen… Rast’s appearance was impeccable, and his character was gentle, maintaining an excellent relationship with the other maids.
Although the closeness he shared with Her Majesty inevitably led the maids to engage in ambiguous thoughts about him.
Nonetheless, they had no reason to reject this young man’s request.
“Alright.”
“Mr. Rast, you can leave it to me with confidence.”
The maid respectfully nodded, picked up the newly compiled volumes, and quietly left.
…
Between the thrones.
The girl leaned against the throne, her ice-blue hair cascading down, surrounded by the solidified dusk.
She was eating fruit while flipping through the book laid across her knees, much like the countless times Helen had experienced in the past.
Yet, for some reason—
Even though it was a daily routine she had become accustomed to, one she was intimately familiar with.
At this moment, every action of Helen’s exuded a hint of lethargy.
Ever since that outing, which the boy had referred to as a “date” had ended, Rast had taken leave from most of his previous duties as her personal attendant, allowing other maids to take over.
Apart from occasionally borrowing a few old fairy tale books from Helen, he spent the vast majority of his day locked away in his room.
The maids began to suspect that Rast’s self-imposed isolation meant he was ill…
He hadn’t received Her Majesty’s blessing, so he could not possess the kind of eternal immortality that the maids enjoyed, and he would inevitably age and fall sick like an ordinary person.
Such speculation, when it reached the ears of Her Majesty, only made her feel guiltier.
The other maids were unaware, but Helen herself knew… Rast had started isolating himself after that outing with her.
Perhaps it was her own capriciousness and playful nature that led him to become ill during that date.
Helen’s gaze unintentionally wandered beyond the palace, toward the outskirts of the royal city, to the mountains shrouded in lush forests.
The scenery there closely resembled the ending of “Chronicles of Silver Wings.”
It was also the place Rast had promised Helen he would take her again next week as the conclusion of their last outing.
After the previous date ended, she had constantly longed for that place, worrying about the promise made with Rast.
However, if going out to play meant Rast would fall ill… then Helen would rather suppress her yearning and desires, restraining her capriciousness.
She picked up a bunch of grapes from the fruit plate beside her, instinctively wanting to grab something else.
But then, her slender, pale hand paused mid-air—
This fruit plate had been freshly cut by the maids, so it wasn’t prepared thoughtfully like Rast would have done.
These were all trivial matters that Helen had long been accustomed to and no longer felt their existence.
But ever since Rast had stopped being her personal attendant, every detail in her daily life now reminded her of his absence—
Leaving her feeling hollow and lost.
Behind the throne, the maids who had taken over Rast’s service exchanged glances, all seeing the helplessness in each other’s eyes.
The maids could feel the loss in Her Majesty’s heart during this time… she would often be distracted and daydream, spending much of her time gazing towards the direction of the servants’ quarters.
They wished to ease the Queen’s sorrow, but could not discern the exact cause.
Or even if they knew the reason, they felt their hands were tied.
“Your Majesty.”
“This is what Mr. Rast entrusted me to bring to you.”
As soon as the new maid finished speaking, she saw the usually languid and laid-back Queen suddenly rise from her throne.
Her violet eyes sparkled with delight.
Helen, with light footsteps, approached her, taking the stack of newly compiled manuscripts from the nervous maid.
Her ice-blue hair fluttered in the dusk as Helen noticed one book immediately among them: “Chronicles of Silver Wings.”
However, unlike the old edition Helen was familiar with, this book seemed freshly compiled, with its pages smooth, looking brand new.
She couldn’t wait to flip open the new edition of “Chronicles of Silver Wings.”
[Your fairy tale books have been read too many times, many pages are worn and damaged.]
[However, these books from the Golden Age before the Catastrophic Era… are too old, and it’s unlikely to find a new printing of them.]
[These handwritten manuscripts are a gift I’ve prepared for you during this time, I hope Your Majesty won’t be angry.]
The message written on the title page still bore the warmth of the young man’s ink.
Helen eagerly reached out to turn to the fairy tale book.
The stories within were so familiar that she could recite them from memory.
Yet, the neat handwriting between the pages had not completely dried, still carrying a faint scent of ink.
Her fair, delicate fingers gently turned the pages, the soft rustling sound echoing.
This volume of “Chronicles of Silver Wings,” transcribed by Rast, quickly reached the last page.
But right afterwards—
In the next moment, Helen’s violet eyes widened unconsciously.
At the end of “Chronicles of Silver Wings,” between the pages depicting the happy conclusion of Miss Plague Witch and the knight boy, a small note fell silently.
On the note, there were only a few short lines of text.
[Your Majesty:]
[I wonder if you remember the promise we made during our last outing, which we haven’t had time to fulfill.]
[Four days later, at one o’clock in the afternoon]
[Just like the main characters of “Chronicles of Silver Wings,” the knight boy Lyle and the Plague Witch… ]
[Let us begin our last journey together.]
(End of this chapter)
