Chapter 1254 - 1253: "Healing

Chapter 1254: Chapter 1253: "Healing

The ancient city ruins stood wordless in the wind, dust from the wasteland whipped up and carried along by the gusts, slamming and howling between those twisted, weathered buildings and rusted pipes and steel beams. At the very center of the former Magic Nexus Station site, the earth looked as though a vast chunk of flesh had been gouged away, leaving only a black pit set into the cracked ground. A clump of radiance was slowly surging at the bottom of the pit, and deep within that radiance lay the space delineated by The Deep Blue Webway.

It was a colossal power system existing in parallel with the entire planet, an "internal circulation network" formed by the world within the Magic Power–suffused universe. Mortal beings of this age still knew very little about it; yet in Fyrna and Lelena’s eyes, this vast, enigmatic Deep Blue Webway held few secrets at all.

A low, muffled muttering traveled along with the wind. Fyrna lifted her head and saw two aberrations, gory titans of flesh, appearing at the edge of the great pit. Their steps were staggering, their bodies covered in dark red "mud" that swelled and contracted, writhed in a deeply unsettling way. Every few seconds their bodies gave a slight shudder—the mindless chaotic monsters seemed to still be resisting the control of an outside will, yet their resistance was clearly of no avail.

A Treant with deep brown, twisted branches stood beside these two monsters. His crown of branches was contorted into a coiled, knotted state, dead twigs tangled together into a structure roughly resembling a brain. Tiny points of light continuously flickered through that ravine-ridden "brain," and violent psychic pulses radiated out from it, suppressing the two aberrations’ instinctive urge to rebel.

"...Truly ugly things," Fyrna said offhandedly as she turned back, words full of disgust yet her expression unusually calm.

"Get the Rune Stones ready!" another Treant shouted loudly nearby, and immediately the tangled roots spread all around the great pit began to rustle and writhe. Moments later, an enormous black cube was being conveyed to the pit’s edge by the wriggling vines and roots, and then brought to the two aberrations currently under control.

It was a pitch-black block with edges of about two meters, its shape quite regular and its surface faintly gleaming with a metallic sheen. It seemed to be made from multiple magic materials, intricately processed. Within each of its faces one could see Magic Symbols emitting a faint glow, constantly emerging and shifting. The restless, turbulent Magic Power of the wasteland periodically interacted with those symbols; at every moment, lines of scrambled light and shadow would radiate from one vertex of the cube and gradually dissipate into the stone’s depths.

If an outsider were to see it, they would probably find it hard to believe that such a precise thing had been "produced" in a wasteland like this.

Yet even so, the Twin Elves still seemed not quite satisfied with this "Rune Stone." Lelena stared at that massive cube for a long while before finally shaking her head with a sigh. "Ah, shoddy work."

"As long as it’s usable," Fyrna said with a smile. "For them to produce such a device in an environment like this is already no easy feat."

As they spoke, the handover of the Rune Stone had already been completed. The two ferocious, twisted aberration Giants lifted the enormous black cube from the writhing vines—the thing was clearly extremely heavy, to the point that even those mighty aberrations had to work together to hold it steadily. Then the Treant standing at the pit’s edge issued a command. The bodies of the two aberrations shuddered slightly in unison, they let out a voiceless roar, and at last they took their ponderous steps, slowly walking toward the "door" at the bottom of the pit.

In that moment, even the Twin Elves, who had maintained an air of effortless detachment throughout, could not help but fix their attention on the Rune Stone. Their gaze followed the two aberrations as they stepped slowly toward the "door," followed that massive black cube whose interior symbols kept drifting about. They watched as the thing drew closer, bit by bit, to the pit’s bottom, as the blue radiance from The Deep Blue Webway shone through the door and fell upon the surface of the Rune Stone.

In the next instant, the heavy black cube suddenly seemed to "come alive." All the Magic Symbols within flared at the same time, countless lines that had previously been hidden snapped together in flashing connections, and dozens of complex magic circles were activated and reconfigured within a thousandth of a second. The air crackled; the pure energy in The Deep Blue Webway seemed to have torn through the equilibrium structures around the "door." With a blinding burst of sparks, the two aberrations bearing the Rune Stone were turned into blazing torches in an instant, burned violently, and scattered to ash.

But the now-activated Rune Stone had thus dropped smoothly into the deepest part of the pit, into the space where The Deep Blue Webway lay—the surface of the "door" rippled in expanding circles, and in the wavering light the surrounding Treants could only see that hard-won magical device tumbling into a certain stream of light, shining as it fell, and vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye.

Lelena raised her head and looked toward Archbishop Bolken, who was likewise intently watching the pit’s bottom. A faint smile appeared on her face. "The Rune Stone has been placed, Archbishop."

"...Good. Counting the experimental one before this, we now have two control nodes," Bolken said in a low, rasping voice after a brief silence. "Next, we still have a hundred that need to be placed."

"The first step is always the hardest, Your Excellency Archbishop," Fyrna spoke with a smile. "We’ve already gathered sufficient data and tested the new method of opening the door. From here on, the pace of installing Rune Stones will only grow faster—of course, I mean within the wasteland."

"Yes... within the wasteland... But the nodes we intend to control are not confined to this damned great walls," Bolken’s yellow-brown eyes locked firmly on the Twin Elves before him. "We must ensure that at least seventy percent of the Rune Stones can take effect, and the valid nodes we can find inside the wasteland barely reach half that number—you understand what I mean."

"Of course. You will have your opportunity, but to seize that opportunity, you will still need to build up more strength," Lelena said coolly. "As for the current phase, our primary goal is to install Rune Stones at every node that can be controlled within the great walls. That way, regardless of whether our later operations go smoothly, we will already hold a power vast enough to turn the situation on its head."

Bolken looked at the "elves" before him for a long moment before speaking in a low voice. "Let’s hope everything proves as easy as you say."

...

The howling polar wind battered the thick city walls, yet under the starry night sky the Adventurer Camp was ablaze with light. Teams returning from completed missions were heading to the administration center to settle the rewards and "promotion points" for their hard work. The engineering crews responsible for expanding the camp drove along the main avenue, road surfaces rumbling under construction vehicles shipped directly from the Loren Continent. The roar of Magic-Powered Engines mingled with voices echoing through the streets and alleys—these were sounds that rose every day in this newly built town. Modir had lived here for quite some time now and had long since grown accustomed to them.

"This is a very curious place," the Great Adventurer sat by the window of his small cabin, speaking with feeling to Gawain seated opposite him. "This land is barren—one could even say that danger starts the moment you step beyond the gate. There is every kind of perilous thing on the wasteland; survival is the foremost challenge that everyone must face. Yet on the other hand, these Sanctuaries built upon the wasteland are brimming with vitality, even more so than many towns of similar size on the Loren Continent—they have a stronger ’feeling of being alive.’ People pour all their hopes for survival, for the future, and for safety into these sturdy walls, and time and again they set out from here, striving to wrest civilization back from the wilds... Whenever I think of this, I am profoundly moved.

"But in reality, more than half of the people who moved you are here just to strike it rich, and some are here because of alliance missions," Amber was toying with a little vortex of Shadow Sand Dust in her hand as she spoke casually. "Aside from the volunteers from the Sacred Dragon Kingdom and some of the support troops, the only ones who truly care about ’civilization’ and ’the future’ are those dragons born and raised in Talronde—this is their home planet, not anyone else’s."

The Great Adventurer laughed and shook his head slightly: "If a cause is great and full of glory, and countless people have made huge sacrifices for it, then why should we dig into whether every name behind that cause is a flawless ’saint’? As I see it, these people came here from far away, risked their lives to push back the border of the safe zone, and are rebuilding cities and factories. A magnificent civilization gains the hope of rising again because of them—so no matter what brought them here, the chronicles of history should give them a place."

Gawain looked at Modir with some surprise: "I thought you were only obsessed with adventure. I didn’t expect you to have such deep thoughts."

"It’s my honor to receive your praise," Modir said at once, then scratched his slightly messy white hair. "These don’t really count as any profound insights. It’s just that after living here for a while, I’ve come to understand these adventurers and their way of life a bit better... I’ve recorded all my experiences here in a notebook I carry on me, planning to hand it to someone trustworthy when I leave. That way, even if one day I forget everything that happened here again, the things I’ve witnessed and pondered can still be passed down..."

"A wise move—but if everything goes well, you might not even need that arrangement," Gawain smiled, then turned his head to Amber. "How’s the preparation?"

Amber raised a finger and swayed it in midair; the dust coiled and danced around her fingertip as though alive. "All set."

Gawain nodded and looked at Victoria Wilder, who had been sitting silently at the side. She lifted her head almost at the same moment; the face that was usually cold as ice now unavoidably showed a trace of worry. "Is Amber’s method really effective?"

"Let me put it this way: I can’t guarantee a hundred percent that I can sever the connection between your old ancestor and the Lady of Night’s Divine Kingdom. That thing involves gods, after all—it’s not something I can handle just because I stole a bit of sand from the Lady Night’s place. But I can guarantee that at least it won’t get worse—and in theory, I can at least stabilize this Great Adventurer’s body to a certain degree. Even if he’s still sliding toward ’that side’, the process will be greatly slowed. That way, we at least get some breathing room, don’t we?"

When the moment finally came, Amber did not speak with her usual overblown confidence and slapdash guarantees. Instead, she straightforwardly laid out the limits of her ability and the potential less-than-perfect outcomes. This frank "disclaimer" didn’t make Victoria suspicious; oddly enough, it made the ruler of the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range feel relieved.

A measured promise is more reassuring than flowery self-aggrandizement—especially when it comes from Amber. Victoria knew this Minister of Intelligence well; among the Empire’s upper echelons there was a rule of thumb: when Amber casually assures you, "This is solid," that’s when you must start planning for how to handle the fallout. But when she shows a cautious face and says she’s only fifty percent sure, it means she really does have at least fifty percent confidence.

Gawain’s gaze swept over Victoria and Modir, then finally settled on Amber. He exhaled softly and nodded to her. "Then let’s begin."

Amber nodded. With the prior experience of making Modir "cooperate," this time she didn’t bother with extra chatter. Her perception and control over Shadow Sand Dust quietly activated, and in an instant, Modir Vealt transformed in her eyes once again into that bizarre figure whose half body was made of flowing dust...

Gawain and Victoria watched all this intently, nervous, yet they couldn’t see the "truth" that only Amber could perceive. To them, Amber was simply standing quietly beside Modir, raising her hand into the air near the old Mage. Some indistinct grayish-white dust surged and coiled around Modir, spinning like a mist that hovered between illusion and reality—the entire process lasted several minutes, and outsiders had no way of telling what mystery lay within it.

If they hadn’t already established a certain level of mutual understanding, if Gawain were still going by the impression from when they’d first met, he would absolutely be suspecting at this point that this so-called Shadow Assault Goose was just putting up a bunch of light-and-shadow special effects to fool him—just so she could trick Victoria into treating her to drinks later...

Just then, Amber suddenly withdrew her hand, and the Shadow Sand Dust that had been flickering in the air vanished. She clapped her hands and breathed out, a smile spreading across her face. "All right, done."

"It’s over already?" The first to speak was Modir himself. He still didn’t feel any changes in his body and only looked in puzzlement at Amber, who seemed as if she’d just exerted a great deal of effort. He then lowered his head to glance at himself. "I still don’t feel anything..."

"You won’t feel anything—just like you didn’t feel anything wrong with your body over the past six centuries. That ’mutated’ power has completely become part of your life, inseparable like your breathing and heartbeat. Anything I do to you naturally takes that into account, so of course you won’t feel it," Amber looked at the Great Adventurer with an expression of "I totally get this" as she explained. "If you really felt some abnormal change in your body, that would be the real bad news."

Hearing this, Modir actually tensed up a little. "...And if I do feel some abnormal change in my body, what happens?"

Amber blurted it out almost without thinking: "I’d grab hold of Victoria’s leg and beg her to go easy on me—and best if she gives me another chance..."

Modir: "...?"

"Don’t mind her, she’s always like this," Gawain could tell from Amber’s runaway mouth that her little operation had definitely gone smoothly. He let out a breath of relief, and a smile appeared on his face as well. "Stand up and move around a bit. Make sure there’s no discomfort, and then we’ll continue discussing what’s going on with you."

"Mm, I feel pretty good..." Modir nodded. Speaking as he stood, he flexed his joints a little. But just as the Great Adventurer was about to say something more, his expression suddenly changed. His eyes went wide, staring fixedly in a certain direction.

Seeing this, Amber shot up at once, dropped to a sliding kneel, and skidded straight toward Victoria...