Chapter 468 - 441: Imperial Academy

Chapter 468: Chapter 441: Imperial Academy

Although the enemies known as the Ashen Descendants were no match for Roland, he had no intention of delaying, lest any unforeseen complications arise.

With their objective clear, the group no longer hesitated.

At Roland’s concise command, the Gray Dwarves quickly packed the necessary supplies. They carefully secured the important research equipment and the Magic Net Disturbance Detector to the bridge, after which the group boarded the Shell Ship parked outside the Gear Hall.

Similar to when they had crossed the Curtain of Heaven, the runes on the Shell Ship’s surface once again lit up with an eerie purple glow under Duraga’s personal control.

A moment later, the space before the ship’s bow twisted, and a relatively small space-time rift was forcibly torn open.

The Shell Ship emitted a low hum and slowly sailed into the turbulent expanse of shifting light and shadow.

However, unlike their previous free-roaming voyage, the Magic Net Disturbance Detector had a limited range. This meant Duraga and Bronson could only rely on a few relatively clear coordinates they had marked in the vicinity of Rusted Town.

This prevented the Shell Ship from traversing the vast Star Realm at will, restricting it to short-range spatial jumps within the sealed-off Aiselon Continent.

Worse, the coordinates were not precise enough and the energy calculations had discrepancies. As a result, this supposedly "short-range" journey ended up taking even longer than their previous trip across planes from the Eternal Song Forest to Aiselon.

Taking advantage of the rather lengthy voyage, a tall, slender figure flitted over like a butterfly to honey, latching onto Roland as he leaned against the ship’s rail in thought.

"Roland! Quick, tell me! What was it *really* like inside that ancient ruin?"

As the Minstrel fired off a barrage of questions, he produced from seemingly nowhere a thick notebook titled *Mortal Heroes* and a quill pen.

His eyes sparkled as the tip of his pen flew across the page with a scratching sound.

Looking a little resigned, Roland had no choice but to recount his experience in the ruin.

When he mentioned the wristband turning to liquid and covering his entire body, Tress, who was perched on his other shoulder, couldn’t help but chime in, adding in her crisp voice,

"It was so bright! WHOOSH! It wrapped Roland right up, just like a big tin can!"

The little one gesticulated wildly, trying to compensate for Roland’s overly flat description.

"Entropy Ash Core... Seventh Observation Station... Adaptive Base Plate... Wrist Armor... Cool! So cool!"

Galvis muttered in awe as he wrote, his face beaming with the excitement of someone who had just discovered a treasure.

"This will absolutely be one of the greatest Chapters in my epic! The ultimate creation of a lost civilization! I knew following you would give me endless material!"

Just as Roland was getting a headache from Galvis’s endless, probing questions and contemplating an escape, an angelic voice sounded beside him.

"That’s enough, Galvis. Roland just fought a grueling battle and explored a dangerous ruin. The last thing he needs is to satisfy your endless curiosity. He needs to rest."

Interrupted mid-gush, Galvis frowned, his reluctance written all over his face.

However, when he saw that it was Avril—and especially when he met her clear, sharp Elven eyes—he instantly deflated like a popped balloon. He nodded sheepishly, his bravado vanishing in an instant.

"Er... ahem, Miss Avril, you... you’re right. I was being too hasty," he stammered.

Although going through the Corellon crisis together in the Eternal Song Forest had forged a certain bond of camaraderie between Galvis and the Elf Maiden, it wasn’t enough to overcome his deep-seated awe.

Having grown up on legends of the Silver Moon Guard and their Valkyrie-like warriors, the naturally freewheeling Minstrel always felt an ineffable awkwardness and subconscious unease around Avril, as if constantly afraid his own flippancy might offend her.

Thus, under Avril’s watchful gaze, Galvis could only quickly pack away his notebook and quill, and dejectedly retreat from Roland’s side.

However, as he turned toward the cabin, he made sure to angle himself out of Avril’s line of sight. He then shot Roland a series of complex hand gestures and exaggeratedly mouthed a silent message.

"We’ll—con—tin—ue—this—la—ter!"

Watching Galvis’s comical yet persistent display, Roland shook his head in resignation, while Avril couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

The somewhat tense atmosphere eased a little.

Watching Galvis’s dejected figure walk away, Avril finally turned to Roland, the sharpness in her eyes replaced by concern.

"Are you okay? You weren’t hurt in the ruin, were you? Those monsters from before... they didn’t look like easy opponents."

Roland shook his head, flexing his wrists, which remained nimble despite being encased in Armor.

"I’m fine, Avril. I made some discoveries in the ruin, but I also ran into a number of mysteries."

With that, Roland briefly described the events that had transpired in the Big Pit.

As Avril processed this information, he glanced around the steadily cruising Shell Ship and asked,

"Right, where’s Danny? Duraga didn’t just dump him back in Rusted Town because he was too much trouble, did he?"

The Danny that Roland mentioned was the very Alchemist to whom he had extended an olive branch back in the Golden Valley Kingdom.

After meeting up with Duraga and learning what had happened, Roland had immediately sought out the Alchemist to apologize, feeling responsible for indirectly dragging him into the whole series of events.

After all, if not for his involvement, Danny might never have left the relative stability of Golden Ears City, nor would he have been swept up in the conflict between the River Domain nations and the Rock Kingdom.

Then again, on second thought, if Danny had actually remained in Golden Ears City, he likely wouldn’t have survived the cataclysm that engulfed it.

But to Roland’s surprise, Danny was remarkably magnanimous about the whole affair. He even thanked Roland for the invitation, saying it had allowed him to experience an "incredibly fantastic adventure."

However, ever since Duraga gratefully offered him several vials of his own Gray Dwarf blood as research samples—a thank you for the inspiration from a crucial Potion—the Alchemist had become like a man possessed, holing up in his assigned cabin on the Shell Ship day and night.

His obsessive devotion to his research was just like Bronson’s, or Galvis’s when he was lost in a creative fervor.

Hearing Roland’s question, Avril gave the answer he expected.

She tilted her chin slightly, gesturing toward the rear of the vessel.

"Still buried in his ’laboratory,’ tinkering away. The fighting outside was so intense a moment ago that the explosions nearly overturned the ship, but he never once poked his head out."

Her tone was one of resignation, but also of long-standing habit.

The two exchanged a few words about the voyage and their experiences in Rusted Town.

When the topic inevitably turned back to the brutal battle from before, Avril suddenly fell silent. After a moment, she leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the cold ship’s rail, her voice tinged with an unconcealable dejection.

"Roland, am I... useless? I feel like I’m no help at all in a fight..."

Roland paused, taken aback. He turned his head to look at the Elf Maiden beside him.

Avril had always been so full of life and confidence. He had never seen her this disheartened.

He couldn’t help but soften his tone, speaking with conviction.

"What are you talking about? Avril, you did an amazing job."

"If not for you using your Agility to run interference and intercept most of the enemies, things would have been much worse. You broke their offensive rhythm by taking one of them down with a precision shot. I’m afraid Duraga and his people would have suffered irreparable casualties otherwise. You protected everyone."

Hearing Roland’s straightforward praise, the corners of Avril’s mouth curled up subconsciously, but they quickly fell again.

She kept her gaze directed downward, her voice growing even softer.

"But... I still can’t compare to you. What you did just now..."

She recalled the earth-shattering power Roland radiated when he descended upon the battlefield. He had then dispatched those terrifying enemies—the very same ones she had struggled against, needing to exert her full strength just to kill a single one—as if it were child’s play. Her voice was thick with a storm of complex emotions.

It was a mixture of admiration, envy, and an undeniable sense of defeat.

"You’re getting stronger too fast, Roland. So fast... it feels impossible to catch up."

She finally turned to look at Roland, her clear eyes filled with confusion and a hint of powerlessness.

As she said this, the Elf Maiden suddenly trailed off.

In that instant, she understood why Teresa had chosen to leave without a word and set off on her own journey to train.

That feeling of watching a companion’s back recede into the distance, of worrying you’ll become a burden, of desperately wanting to grow stronger yet feeling powerless to do so...

Now, she was beginning to understand.

Seeing the look of defeat and confusion so clearly on the Elf Maiden’s face, Roland subconsciously licked his dry lips, at a loss for how to comfort her.

’He wasn’t good at handling these kinds of delicate emotional issues.’

Silence hung between them for a moment.

Suddenly, Roland seemed to remember something, and a glint appeared in his eyes.

He quickly pulled two map scrolls from his bag.

One was the parchment scroll Bronson had just drawn, which marked the Magic Flow. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

The other was the precious vellum map given to him by Duadeng as a parting gift, depicting the ancient topography of Aiselon.

He spread the two maps side by side on the ship’s rail. His finger traced back and forth across them as his sharp gaze swept over the ancient place names and the Energy nodes Bronson had marked.

His gaze finally settled on a particular area of Duadeng’s map, locking onto an ancient name he had previously circled several times.

The Imperial Academy.

He looked up at the still-despondent Elf Maiden, a confident smile touching his lips as he spoke softly.

"Don’t worry, Avril. A way for you to get stronger... might be right in front of our eyes. I have an idea."

"Huh?"

Pulled from her thoughts, Avril let out a confused grunt and looked at Roland, not understanding.

However, before Roland could explain further, Duraga’s gruff, booming roar—laced with a heavy dose of warning—exploded across the deck like a thunderclap, instantly capturing everyone’s attention.

"Everyone! Grab onto something solid! We’re almost there!"

"Dammit! In this gods-forsaken place, the spatial coordinates are as wobbly as a drunk Dwarf! This landing isn’t going to be nearly as smooth as the last one! Hold on tight!"

The words were barely out of his mouth when...

An intense feeling of weightlessness suddenly struck.

The Shell Ship felt as if it had plummeted from solid ground into an invisible abyss.

The hull let out a cringe-inducing groan of twisting metal, shaking and lurching violently like a toy tossed about by an unseen giant’s hand.

"Aah!"

Tress shrieked, clutching tightly to Roland’s collar.

Avril instinctively grabbed the cold ship’s rail to steady herself.

On deck, the Gray Dwarf sailors scrambled to grab hold of ropes and fixtures, cursing under their breath as they braced themselves.

Amid the chaotic shaking and sense of freefall, the swirling vortex of light and shadow before the Shell Ship abruptly vanished.

The vessel gave a violent shudder, as if it had forced its way through a thin membrane, and then broke free from the unstable spatial rift.

The violent jolting gradually subsided, replaced by an unsettling stillness, as if the ship were mired in a viscous bog.

Outside, the blur of passing scenery was gone. In its place was...

...a pervasive, deep gray fog that seemed to swallow all light. And deep within that fog, looming and massive, was the faint silhouette of a dilapidated complex of buildings, like the skeleton of a slumbering behemoth...

The desolate wasteland they had anticipated was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a far more bizarre and unsettling environment.

The surroundings were eerily silent; even the sound of the wind seemed to have been devoured by the gray fog.