Chapter 365: A Sword from the Past

In his brief forty-odd years of life, Raymond Aron had hobnobbed with dukes and kings in lavish salons and fought for his life against demons on the Abyssal Battlefield, but he had never experienced anything so bizarre.

’What did I do? What did *she* do? How did my sword just end up in her hand?’

"In denial?" The Moon Elf seemed to have anticipated his reaction, but she didn’t care. "There is much you haven’t seen. I have lived far, far longer than you."

Using Time Stop, a top-tier form of Arcane Magic, against a Chief Judge was admittedly overkill, but Jilannis didn’t care. Her only concern was the sword; nothing else mattered. Therefore, taking it by force was the most efficient method.

"Compared to the transgressions you’ve committed here, being disarmed is the lightest of punishments." Since Time Stop was supposed to affect everyone, even Ron didn’t understand how Jilannis had done it, but the result was plain to see. "Aron, take your men and leave, lest I be forced to dig a mass grave for you."

"The Archbishop will not let this rest." Aron wasn’t overly concerned about his lost weapon; his mission was what mattered. "Pergrande has stolen classified intelligence. If I cannot complete my mission, they will certainly send someone stronger next time."

"Then why not have your Archbishop come here himself," Ron snorted. "If he’s willing to answer all of my questions in person, I would be more than happy to arrange a meeting between him and Miss Pergrande."

"My Lord Chief Judge, why are you wasting your breath on them?" Kolzim could no longer hold back. He broke into a gallop and charged straight for Jilannis, his followers close behind. "Let’s just kill them all! We have far greater numbers!"

’She’s just one Elf. What difference does it make if she’s a Mage or a Sword Saint? Once the Centaurs charge, it’ll all be over!’

’So Kolzim thought.’ His strong, heavy body rose and fell with his gallop. The thought of this beautiful Elf groveling beneath his iron hooves, begging for mercy—or better yet, being smashed to smithereens by the impact of his body—filled Kolzim with an uncontrollable excitement. In this state, he felt like he could fly!

And then, he really did fly.

His body, wounded just moments ago in the fight with Zandia, grew more and more distant. His clansmen who had charged with him were in the same predicament. As Kolzim and the others looked at each other, they were stunned to discover that not a single one of their heads was still attached to its torso!

And what filled Kolzim with even greater despair as his vision faded was that the Chief Judge of the Molten Iron Barrier was actually turning his horse around, preparing to leave with his men!

’This wasn’t what we agreed to!’ The Centaur wanted to curse, to demand an explanation, but to his terror, he could no longer even control his own tongue.

Six fey-like heads tumbled into the snow, their massive bodies collapsing in their wake. Only after they had stained the snow crimson for several meters around did "Silence" in Jilannis’s hand slowly begin to weep beads of blood, as if the sword itself were wounded.

"I thought you didn’t like to kill," Ron said, glancing at the Moon Elf. She just shrugged. "Centaurs are considered a Spirit Type, Ron."

’He knew she’d use that excuse.’

"They’re... all dead?" After a long moment, once the contingent from the Molten Iron Barrier had departed as unceremoniously as they had arrived, Zandia, the sole remaining leader of the Centaur Clan, slowly came to her senses. She struggled to stand, wanting to go and confirm it herself, but her injuries sent her collapsing back to the ground. "What just happened?"

"Only what you wished for has come to pass. From now on, you’ll no longer have a ’Regent’ lording it over you." Jilannis ran her finger along the sword’s blade. The blood froze to her touch, and with a flick of her knuckle, the ice shattered and fell to the ground. "And I’ve gotten this sword. Silence? Hmph..."

"What’s the story behind this sword?" Ron asked, looking at the Moon Elf as she gazed fondly at the longsword in her hand. "It wouldn’t happen to be that Bright Gemstone, would it?"

’There was only one empty socket left on the amethyst slab; the Bright Gemstone was gone. He wondered if it was inside this sword.’

"What Bright Gemstone?" Jilannis looked blank for a moment before realizing what Ron meant. "No, it’s not that. This sword isn’t my creation, nor does it belong to me—it was my teacher’s personal sword."

"He was the dean of an academy. I studied under him for over thirty years before I came of age. He was my very first master." Seeing Ron’s confusion, she elaborated, "Later, the rise of the Laine Clan caused considerable chaos. I lost contact with him and never saw him again. To think that after several centuries, I would stumble upon his sword here."

Jilannis showed the plain, unadorned longsword to Ron. Aside from the standard Enchantment runes on the blade, a total of four words in the Elf Language—two on each side—caught his attention.

One side of the blade was engraved with "Truth" and "Accuracy," while the other side was engraved with "Depth" and "Professionalism."

"This was the creed he lived by his entire life as a researcher," Jilannis said. "I suppose it’s fitting that those zealots named the sword ’Silence.’ Its first master was certainly not a talkative man."

"Perhaps that’s why he was never famous," Jilannis added, a sad smile touching her lips. "Outsiders have likely never heard of him, even though he was universally respected by those within his field."

"After I received the patronage of the Laine Imperial Family, I had hoped to use the opportunity to repay his kindness, but he had vanished without a trace... alas..."

"At least you managed to recover something of his. And with an Elf’s lifespan, meeting again might not be impossible." Listening to this Grand Mage—herself already a legend—recount tales from an even more distant past made Ron think of his own mentors, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. But they had other things to do now. "Victoria, take Miss Zandia and her clanspeople and get them settled. We have a more important figure to pay a visit to."

"We need to ask our Lady Bishop: what secrets did she steal that would make her former comrades-in-arms hunt her down like this?"