Chapter 231: Meeting The Thirteen

The interior of the pavilion possessed the standard militaristic arrangements expected of a military command post, though there was something distinctly more solemn about the atmosphere within.

Maps and parchment were spread across several wooden stands, weapon racks lined the walls, banners bearing unfamiliar insignias hung from the supporting poles, and the warm glow of oil lamps illuminated the faces of those gathered around the central table.

At the center of the pavilion stretched a large circular table around which thirteen people were seated.

Regaleon looked across them and immediately noticed something peculiar.

Every single one of them gave off powerful and unique fluctuations. They were not ordinary fluctuations either; rather, they possessed the distinct characteristics of Etheryeans.

And that realization alone was enough to shock him.

During his observations of the garrison, Regaleon had to admit that he had not encountered a single soldier or knight who appeared to be a cultivator or practitioner of Aetheric practices. Because of this, the silver-haired Knight had reinforced his earlier belief that he was truly witnessing events from the distant past.

According to the history widely known in Valoria, humanity had never known about the existence of cultivation or Soul Essence until the sudden appearance of the Ascension Altar aeons ago.

It was because of that enigmatic monument that Valoria had been able to develop itself into the civilization it was today. Through the Ascension Altar, the citizens of the kingdom began awakening various relics, granting humanity access to powers that had previously been completely beyond their understanding.

The first relics awakened were those associated with knighthood, assassination, alchemy, and other similar disciplines. It was because of these that the Great Houses were sometimes referred to as the pioneers or forerunners of modern cultivation.

They had been among the first to understand the nature of Soul Essence, the first to develop methods of utilizing their awakened relics, and the first to establish cultivation practices that later generations would refine and expand upon.

It was also because of their exalted status and prestige that the Great Houses were treated almost like gods by lesser cultivators and less privileged citizens.

Their names carried enormous weight, their bloodlines were revered, their techniques were coveted and their descendants were regarded as inheritors of an ancient superiority that ordinary people could only admire from afar.

Yet, judging by what he was seeing now, Regaleon could at least see some truth in the histories he had learned.

The world around him seemed primitive compared to modern Valoria because he was witnessing with his own eyes the dawn of civilization as his people knew it.

And that, Regaleon had to admit, was one hell of a privilege.

To witness the foundations upon which an entire civilization would eventually be built was something few people could ever experience.

Once more, Regaleon could not help but be astonished by the magnificence of the Reliquary.

Whoever had constructed such a place had somehow preserved moments from the distant past with such extraordinary precision that he could now stand within them and observe them as though they were happening before his eyes.

Yet there was something else that caught his attention.

Besides the unique fluctuations that gave away their identities as Etheryeans, Regaleon detected another peculiarity.

Strangely enough, their armour and weapons were all Soul Essences. But that was not even the greatest anomaly that bewildered him.

What truly bewildered Regaleon was the fact that the design of their armour was identical to his own.

It sounded absurd... Perhaps even impossible. Yet the more closely Regaleon examined them, the more convinced he became that there truly was no meaningful difference between his Armour and theirs.

Whenever he manifested his Soul Essence, it took the form of a full-body knight’s armour.

A helm protected his head, while a gorget covered his neck. Pauldrons guarded his shoulders, vambraces protected his forearms, and gauntlets enclosed his hands. A cuirass covered his chest and abdomen, while cuisses, greaves, and sabatons completed the armour from his waist down to his feet.

But that alone was hardly unusual.

Most knightly Soul Essences naturally possessed similar components. Armour was armour, after all.

There were only so many ways a protective relic could be designed while maintaining its fundamental purpose.

What truly confused Regaleon was that their armours were practically the same as his own, whether in terms of construction or in terms of appearance. In fact, they were so similar that even the shade of gold covering his armour was replicated upon theirs.

The same rich golden colour, the same metallic sheen, and the same imposing silhouette. The similarities were uncanny.

Had it been only a single person who possessed such armour, Regaleon might have simply chalked it up to coincidence.

After all, there were circumstances in which two cultivators could possess similarities between their Soul Essences. Perhaps two people could awaken relics belonging to the same general category or manifest weapons that happened to resemble one another.

Such coincidences, while unusual, were not impossible.

But this was not one person. It was all thirteen.

Every single individual seated around that table possessed armour that shared the same design and characteristics as his own.

It was almost as though they had all received their armour from the same creator. But that was impossible.

This is because based on everything Regaleon knew, Soul Essences were not created; they were manifested.

A cultivator did not manufacture their Soul Essence like an ordinary weapon. Instead, the Soul Essence emerged from the connection between the individual’s soul and the relic with which they were attuned.

In simpler terms, Soul Essences were literally spiritual manifestations forced into the shape of an instrument so that their essence could manifest within the physical world.

That was why they were called Soul Essences.

They were expressions of the soul itself and because of this disposition, no two Soul Essences of the same kind were ever truly identical.

No two swords were completely alike, no two cauldrons were identical and no two bows, staffs, armours, or other relics possessed precisely the same nature.

It was simply the law of nature.

Yet what Regaleon was witnessing seemed to violate that very principle.

At this point, the silver-haired Knight had to admit that he was experiencing a whole lot of inconsistencies.

However, it was not merely the similarities between their Soul Essences and his own that astonished him.

It was also the fact that he seemed to be looking at thirteen different versions of himself.

For starters, every knight gathered within the pavilion possessed the same silver hair as Regaleon.

Their hair was lustrous and bright, catching the golden light filtering through the pavilion’s clerestory openings and reflecting it with an almost metallic brilliance.

They also possessed the same golden eyes.

If an outsider were to see all thirteen of them standing together, they could easily mistake them for siblings as the resemblance was uncanny. So uncanny, in fact, that Regaleon was beginning to question his own birth.

For a brief moment, he even wondered whether Valdric was truly his father.

The thought was ridiculous. He knew this.

Yet standing before thirteen people who looked so remarkably similar to him made the possibility difficult to ignore.

Still, despite their extraordinary resemblance, each person gathered within the room possessed their own physiological variations that made them distinguishable from the others.

Some were women, while others were men.

Among the men, some were short and bulky, while others were tall or broad-shouldered. Some possessed leaner physiques, while others carried the heavier builds of warriors accustomed to prolonged combat.

The women were similarly diverse.

Some were petite, while others possessed more developed physiques.

Their individual features differed enough that Regaleon could distinguish them despite their shared silver hair, golden eyes, and remarkably similar armour.

They truly were different in terms of physiological structure. But that still did not mean that everything he was seeing was ordinary.

In fact, the opposite was true.

Regaleon remained silent as he studied them, his mind attempting to reconcile one impossibility after another.

It seemed that the group had been in the midst of a conversation, but they stopped the moment the knight carrying the parchment entered the pavilion.

All eyes immediately turned toward him.

"What is the meaning of this?"

A bulky silver-haired knight spoke first.

His voice was gruff and hoarse, sounding like rough stone dragged across iron, while his sharp eyes narrowed at the intruding knight.

"Don’t you know that this isn’t a place that you can enter anyhow?"

His voice hardened. "How dare you?"

The kneeling knight visibly trembled beneath the weight of the man’s words. Before he could respond, however, the soft voice of another silver-haired woman interrupted.

"Calm down, Valeon."

Her tone was gentle, yet there was authority beneath it.

"It isn’t as though he is unaware of the protocol. If he has interrupted us despite knowing that, then it means there must be something important that requires our attention."

Valeon, the bulky silver-haired man who had spoken earlier, gave no response. He simply relaxed back against his seat and turned his head away.

The woman then looked toward the kneeling knight.

"Tell us. What message do you have for us?"

The kneeling knight immediately retrieved the parchment he had been holding and raised it with both hands, his head remaining bowed.

"My lady, it is a letter from the battalion stationed in the east."

"The east?" Another silver-haired man raised his brows curiously. "Isn’t that where the First Battalion is centered to fight against the Devils?"

"It is," the woman replied.

Her expression then became slightly more solemn as she added.

"Sir Talen was placed in charge of the Battalion, and he has since set out a week ago to face the Horde of Devils. But we have yet to receive any feedback."

Her gaze fell upon the parchment.

"Perhaps this might be a report on what is happening on the Frontline."

The moment she said this, she gestured toward the kneeling knight. He immediately rose and approached her, keeping his head lowered as he extended the parchment with both hands.

The woman reached out and accepted it.

Regaleon watched the exchange in silence, his golden eyes remaining fixed upon the parchment.

The Horde of Devils?

The First Battalion?

Sir Talen?

The eastern Frontline?

They were all things that he has never heard of before but the way with which they were discussed showed that they were important to the knights gathered within this room.

Regaleon stepped closer. Whatever this memory was, he wanted to know what happened next...