Chapter 450 - 425: Rusted Knight Order

Chapter 450: Chapter 425: Rusted Knight Order

A violent jolt and a deafening crash swept through the entire cabin.

Like a beetle swatted from the sky by an invisible hand, the Shell Ship slammed into the ground, letting out a tremendous, grating crash.

Although the hull itself was constructed from an exceptionally tough material and didn’t shatter or deform upon impact, the intense weightlessness from the rapid descent, followed by a final, terrifying jolt that felt like it could rearrange their insides, left everyone on board battered and reeling.

Roland desperately clutched a bitt bolted to the deck beside him, barely managing to stay on his feet.

After a moment of ringing in his ears, the surrounding sounds flooded back in like a tidal wave.

There was the faint creaking of stressed metal, the panicked gasps and curses of the Gray Dwarf crew, and the muffled sound of wind from outside the hull.

He quickly shook his head to clear it, his sharp gaze sweeping over those beside him.

Avril was leaning against the railing, her face pale, but she appeared unharmed.

Galvis was rubbing a bruised temple, muttering exclamations in the Elf Language.

As for the others...

After spotting Bronson peeking out from a doorway with Tress on his shoulder and confirming they were both uninjured, Roland immediately strode toward the bridge.

At that moment, Duraga was standing by the central control pillar.

His rugged face was a mask of anguish and fury. His massive hands kept slapping the now-dark pillar, his curses roaring like the bellows of a Dwarf’s forge.

"Dammit! What in the hell is going on? This is cursed!"

Roland walked up to him and asked in a grave voice.

"Duraga, what happened?"

"I don’t know!"

Duraga growled irritably.

"One second we were fine, but right after passing through that damned rift, the core drive just died—like its neck was snapped! It felt like... the Magic Elements suddenly faded, or... something interfered with them!"

He slammed his fist into the Rune Pillar, which let out a dull thud.

"It makes no sense! We had no problems navigating the Star Realm. How could this happen the moment we entered Aiselon...?"

Thanks to his prior "discussions" with the Heartstealer captive, he wasn’t completely ignorant of the Shell Ship’s propulsion system. He knew its core relied on a stable and active magical environment.

’The Magic Elements are fading?’

A sliver of doubt rose in Roland’s mind.

He said no more. An inexplicable, strange feeling prompted him to close his eyes. He took a deep breath and carefully extended his Perception outward like countless invisible probes.

A moment later, in the dark "vision" behind his closed eyelids, a picture of the surrounding magical environment began to form.

However, this image was completely different from anything he had ever known.

The Magic Elements weren’t sparse or absent. On the contrary, their sheer "volume" was staggering. It was like being in a boundless ocean, where every inch of space was saturated with a "seawater" of magic so dense it was impossible to dissolve.

The bizarre part, however, was that these Magic Elements, which should have been lively, vibrant, and in constant flux, were now in a state of near-total stagnation and sluggishness.

They weren’t flowing in an orderly fashion. Instead, they were like clumps of viscous, unmixable gel, or as if they were entangled and bound by countless invisible threads, creating an indescribable sense of obstruction.

’Strange...’

Roland couldn’t help but furrow his brow, the doubt in his mind growing deeper.

’The magical environment here is too strange.’

’The Elements are abundant, but they’ve lost their proper "vitality" and "fluidity." It’s as if some invisible, powerful force has violently interfered, disrupting them, turning what should be a harmonious symphony into a chaotic mess of loose sand, with each grain for itself.’

This bizarre sense of stagnation wasn’t just a perceptual judgment; it brought a dual discomfort, both physical and mental. It was as if the very air had become heavy and foul, making even breathing require extra effort.

’In such an environment, forget about supplying the immense and stable Magic Flow required by a precision construct like the Shell Ship... even...’

He tried to focus his mind and slowly extended a finger.

However, the only response to his call was a tiny cluster of sparks at his fingertip—so faint it was almost imperceptible, looking as if it might flicker out at any moment.

This was a far cry from his time in the Zor Camp, where he could effortlessly summon a stable ball of light.

Roland watched the struggling Spark on his fingertip slowly fade away. He shook his head, his tone laced with gravity.

’Is it this difficult just to cast a Trick...?’

Pushing that doubt aside for the moment, Roland turned to Duraga, who was still inspecting the Rune Pillar with an anguished expression, and asked.

"Can it be fixed?"

Duraga took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His thick fingers traced the dim patterns as he nodded.

"Should be fine. The core structure isn’t damaged. It’s just that the Rune Circuits that draw in Magic Power aren’t adapted to this... stagnant environment. They need to be readjusted and recalibrated so they can ’squeeze’ out some Energy in this godforsaken place."

He paused, a hint of frustration in his voice. ℯℯ𝑙.

"But this is delicate work. It can’t be rushed. I’m afraid it’s going to take some time."

With that, he wasted no more time. He straightened up and barked a few loud commands in the Dwarf tongue. The previously panicked Gray Dwarf crewmen quickly settled down.

Duraga picked out a few crewmen who were clearly skilled craftsmen from his clan, and the group immediately set to work around the central control pillar and several key nodes on the hull.