Chapter 1591 - 102: Savior

Bologue leaned by the window, overlooking the brightly lit Fortress of the Morning Wind. Even though it was already late at night, the soldiers’ work had not ended; they were cleaning up bodies, setting up temporary defenses, and repairing broken defenses... The war between the Fortress of the Morning Wind and the Rebellious Royal Court was not over yet. Before the Land of Eternal Night was completely destroyed, the Night Race still had the possibility of crossing the sea.

"So quiet..."

A soft sigh sounded as Aimou walked over with a plate of cookies and jam, placing the tray on the window ledge. Together with Bologue, she looked into the hazy darkness.

"I thought there’d still be a raging wind here at night."

The endless howling wind swept across the Wind Source Highlands, carrying with it cold and noise, enveloping everyone, leaving only the vast wilderness. But tonight, that restless wind had subsided, and an unusual calm had descended.

"The winds of the Wind Source Highlands are somewhat controllable," Bologue explained to Aimou, "like a natural weather defense. In the old days, the reverse winds could greatly restrict the enemy."

Bologue had heard Palmer recount the glorious history of the Clarks family. Enemies once volleyed arrows towards the Fortress of the Morning Wind, but under the assault of the winds, they deviated from their targets, unable even to touch the high walls. Others sailed along the coastline yet had their sails torn apart by the relentless winds before they could approach the Wind Source Highlands. Even sturdy ships enduring one round after another of washing, the reverse winds from a natural angle thwarted the ships’ advance.

No one can ascend against the wind.

Unfortunately, as the times progressed, sails had long vanished, replaced by boiler-powered ironclad ships. Arrows slowly disappeared from the historical stage, and firearms and ammunition came in strides.

The winds hardly affected these steel objects, at least not as significantly as before.

The powers many had once taken pride in were placed in museum displays amidst the changes of the era.

Bologue added, "But this natural defense can sometimes become a cage that limits oneself."

When the strong winds arise, it not only affects the enemy but also the people of the Clarks family. Outside activities during such gales posed significant risks.

Therefore, tonight the bothersome gusts vanished and in their place came a rare peace. The vast plains were silent, inciting imagination.

"Like the Angry Sea?" Aimou picked up a cookie and dipped it in jam.

"Sort of, the Angry Sea was originally a cage to restrict the Night Race, but now it has become their hiding fortress." Thinking about this gave Bologue a headache, and after pondering, he said, "What do you think of Holt’s proposal? Is it feasible?"

"Are you talking about splitting forces, with him leading the main force to attract the main forces of the Rebellious Royal Court, while we quietly cross the sea to infiltrate?"

Aimou thought deeply for a moment, then shook her head, "Sorry, I can’t analyze it."

"We know too little about the Land of Eternal Night. To be precise, we don’t know the Angry Sea at all. Who knows what we’ll encounter if we infiltrate?"

Nibbling on the cookie like a hamster, Aimou continuously chomped with crunching sounds, "Unless... unless we have a guide familiar with the Land of Eternal Night."

"A guide?"

At the mention of a guide, Bologue’s mind immediately conjured Serey’s face.

Serey, in this world, no one is more suited to be a guide to the Land of Eternal Night than Serey. It was he who imprisoned his kin there, and he personally crafted this isolated prison.

Nowadays, probably neither the Night King nor the Regent King understands the Land of Eternal Night as deeply as Serey does.

Bologue shook his head; Serey’s face had just appeared in his mind and quickly vanished. Bologue did not believe that coward Serey would have the courage to face all this.

Ever since leaving the Undying Club that day, Bologue no longer hoped for anything from Serey. Not out of aversion to this old friend, but just... just disappointment.

"It really makes one’s head ache."

Bologue’s brow nearly knitted into a knot; he knew he didn’t have much time left. The longer they took to destroy the Land of Eternal Night, the more passive their situation became. Not to mention, aside from the enemy of the Rebellious Royal Court, there was also York.

York, his unfortunate team member, had joined just days ago and already experienced countless major events, even personally witnessing the devastation of Gray Stone Town.

Bologue guessed York was currently in the Land of Eternal Night, conducting cruel slaughter. Each time a life vanished by his hand, the seal of the Eyes of Eternal Fury would shatter an inch, until that soaring frenzy of anger broke free, the entire world burning.

"We still have to be wary of another old rival," Bologue murmured, "the Silent Legion, Tyrant Mammon’s personal guard. No one can be sure where these guys will appear from, attacking the battlefield through some Curved Pathway Rift."

With each tier ascension, Bologue gradually realized that the Silent Legion was far from simple as it appeared externally. He once suspected that when the Legion had only one remaining member, their power might surpass the limits of the Alchemy Matrix and reach the legendary Crowned tier.

Mammon, greedy Mammon, ever since the destruction of the Eerie Crossroads, Bologue hadn’t seen the disruptive Devil for some time. But his vigilance against Mammon had not relaxed in the slightest; it had instead grown keener.

Mammon was the one who disrupted Hill’s plans back then. The disaster of the Fall of the Holy City seemed to have been initiated by Mammon too. This bastard, calling himself a businessman, was shrouded in an aura of unknowns.

Unknowns always invoke awe.

By comparison, Beelzebub the Glutton gave Bologue less pressure, or rather Beelzebub was not that mysterious. The powers she possessed had all been revealed to him, not to mention that Overlord Xilin was now engaged in a mortal combat with her.

"Want some?"

Aimou saw Bologue’s troubled expression and proactively reached out with a jam-covered biscuit, offering it to Bologue’s mouth.

Bologue opened his mouth to take a bite, chewing as he asked indistinctly, "Where did you get it?"

"From the kitchen," Aimou said, "I was a bit hungry and wanted a healthy snack, but this was all they had left."

"Alright."

Bologue swallowed the biscuit and shifted his gaze back inside from the window.

Fully armed soldiers hurried along the corridors, while medical staff transported the wounded. The Fortress of the Morning Wind is said to be a base of the Clarks, but it also fulfills many other functions. Over years, it’s grown to resemble a small city-state kingdom.

After the bloody battle, few could sleep soundly tonight.

Upon returning to Wind’s Breath Castle, Bologue encountered the still-discussing crowd—Fuen, Holt, Palmer, Hinda... regarding the next move, they hadn’t reached a consensus. But amidst the persistent debate, Holt’s suggestion gradually gained traction.

"Entice the Rebellious Royal Court’s main forces to create opportunities for the infiltration squad?"

Fuen, arms crossed, contemplated the map on the table, "If that’s the case, you’re bound to engage the Rebellious Royal Court on the sea. Although you’re a Seeker of Glory, under the overwhelming numbers of the Rebellious Royal Court, you’d be forced into a passive position, and they might seize the chance to kill you."

Holt said, "That’s why I need the Clarks’ help, I need a fleet to assist me."

"Fleet?"

Fuen shook his head apologetically, "Sorry, we do have some ships, but their size and armament can’t be considered a fleet."

Given the presence of the Angry Sea, the Clarks rarely faced threats from the sea, not to mention their wind blessing, which could keep enemy ships at bay in old-era wars.

The Clark’s strength primarily projects across the vast Wind Source Highlands, controlling this expansive plateau region through numerous outposts to prevent enemy invasions.

Holt fell silent, when Palmer proposed, "If that’s the case, then why not escalate it into a full-blown war?"

He watched the map, placing several new pieces on it.

"We’ve previously dealt with the Tide Dwellers. These Condensers who have long lived on the sea possess quite an impressive fleet," Palmer analyzed coldly, "No need for landing operations, just continuous bombardment of the Angry Sea to weaken their forces."

"Seekers of Glory won’t die from bombardment," Fuen mercilessly dismissed Palmer’s idea, "Moreover, the Angry Sea is so expansive that even bombardment requires accurate coordinates, and the supernatural phenomenon of the Angry Sea can effectively thwart the bombardment."

The supernatural barrier of the Angry Sea is an absolute curtain, blocking external entry and limiting internal escape.

"I think so too."

Bologue’s voice interjected, everyone looked towards the door as Bologue strode in, Aimou following closely like a little follower.

"This world’s Calamity: Throat of the Abyss. I should have introduced you to that troublesome thing earlier," Bologue placed a blood-red piece onto the map, "It can freely open the Curved Pathway Rift, which means with its help, the Rebellious Royal Court can ambush us at any moment."

"Once a large fleet is mobilized, even if we have many High Tier Condensers, protecting the fleet constantly is impossible. The Rebellious Royal Court is much easier; they wouldn’t need to oppose us, just attack the fleet itself."

Bologue removed the pieces symbolizing the fleet, "Seekers of Glory won’t die, but ships will sink."

Palmer slouched back, feeling defeated, exhaustion written all over his face, "What should we do? Let the situation stalemate like this?"

It was a terrible feeling, almost like roles had reversed, unpleasant.

"I know a path, leading directly to the interior of the Land of Eternal Night without garnering any attention."

Suddenly, a voice interrupted the discussion. Fuen had his fill of people’s whimsical ideas today and just wanted to rest, to relax his taut nerves.

So he looked up, ready to question the feasibility of the plan, only to see an unimaginable face appear before him.

The man had a handsome and delicate face, golden hair brushed back to his head, crowned with silver branches, and a pitch-black suit fully wrapped around him, outlining his muscle’s contours, exuding a strong sense of power.

A similarly black cat emerged from his feet, leaping onto the table and nonchalantly knocking over pieces.

Seeing the stunned and silent faces, Serey frowned, showing the familiar smile from the past, spreading his arms.

"Smile, everyone, am I not welcome?"

Serey said helplessly, "I was once the Savior too."