Translator: CinderTL
At dawn the next day, the silent military camp roared to life like a waking beast.
On the wooden platform, Graham stood in full armor, his presence imposing.
The weak voice from the previous day's tent had vanished completely, replaced by his booming, powerful pre-battle declaration that echoed across the entire camp.
"Soldiers! Listen closely! The enemy is entrenched in Crushed Stone Canyon!"
Graham's voice struck like a warhammer, shattering the morning's tranquility.
"They have trampled our earth and slaughtered our kin! Today..."
He took a deep breath, his roar like thunder.
"Either they die, or we perish! For our homeland... crush them!"
After a brief moment of silence, the camp erupted.
Weapons slammed violently against shields, producing a thunderous roar.
"Crush them!"
"For our homeland!"
"Graham!"
Frenzied shouts coalesced into a tidal wave that swept through the entire camp.
Graham's reputation had dispelled the fatigue and fear that had accumulated among the soldiers over days of relentless demonic beast attacks.
Every upturned face burned with the flame of vengeance.
Even the soldiers afflicted with the Crystal Devourer disease, along with the remnants who had followed Jashu yesterday, raised their weapons and roared.
"Now..."
Graham descended from the platform and mounted his horse.
With a long neigh from his steed, he raised his longsword high.
"According to the battle plan issued last night, the entire army marches!"
"As you command!"
At the Knight Academy Dean's order, the soldiers quickly formed ranks under their commanders' commands and marched out of the camp in an orderly procession.
Their momentum was so overwhelming that any outsider would have mistaken them for a triumphant army returning from victory.
But Roland, who knew the truth, was shrouded in a heavy shadow.
Yesterday, besides his final instructions before departure, Graham had revealed a crucial piece of information: the so-called Wolf King might never have existed in this region. The true mastermind behind everything was likely the puppet master pulling the strings of the Church of Truth—the Lich Avril and Vanessa had spoken of.
"The mastermind behind the Church of Truth... a Lich?"
Recalling his encounter at Far Ocean Port, Roland felt a chill of fear mixed with confusion.
He couldn't fathom the Lich's true motives.
The Church of Truth, under its control, had stirred up unrest in both the Golden Valley Kingdom and the River Domain Nations. Was its sole purpose to disrupt order in these two countries?
"Could it be... this Lich harbors a deep-seated grudge against the rulers of these nations?"
He shook his head, pushing these chaotic thoughts aside for the moment. Instead, he turned his attention to Graham's peculiar request from the previous day.
"Why did he want me to destroy that breathing technique?"
Ever since obtaining the Nameless Breathing Technique, Roland had practiced day and night without slackening.
Through his friendship with Graham, he had also gained access to other breathing techniques in the Knight Academy's collection, but he found no fundamental differences among them.
Their cultivation methods were largely similar, with only minor variations.
However, differences between breathing techniques were common and hardly unusual.
"Could the Nameless Breathing Technique be the Graham Family's secret, which is why he's so reluctant to share it? But..."
Unable to find an answer, Roland stopped dwelling on the matter and turned his attention to their current situation.
Graham's near-transparent weakness from yesterday was still fresh in his mind, indicating that his injuries, even if not fatal, were severe.
And then there was Jashu, the other transcendent...
Seeing the assassin's complexion even paler than yesterday, Roland frowned deeply.
Facing a Lich in this condition, especially with the possibility of the Lich having allies, victory would come at a devastating cost, even if they managed to win.
Moreover...
He suppressed the worst-case scenario that had just flashed through his mind.
Seeing the bulk of the army already departed from the camp, Roland turned and headed for his tent.
Lifting the curtain, he found the Purple-Haired Witch, Vanessa, still tirelessly studying the mind flayer's head, as if determined to extract its last secret.
As for Freddy and Mason...
With a large number of junior officers having been drawn away by Graham, the hundreds of soldiers left behind in the camp lacked effective management.
So Avril temporarily conscripted the two of them to handle the camp's tedious daily affairs.
"Tracy..."
Roland gently tapped the small head of the pixie, Tracy, who was currently sprawled on the table, curiously observing Vanessa. He asked in a low voice, "You told me last night that you can now accurately sense the messages of your companions. Is that true?"
"Of course!"
At the question, Tracy immediately withdrew her curious gaze and turned to nod vigorously.
"And they're very close. It'll take only two days—no..."
Tracy paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as her tiny nostrils twitched, as if trying to catch an invisible scent in the air.
After a moment, she continued, "Just one day!"
"One day..."
Roland pondered briefly before immediately beginning to pack his belongings.
Graham's departure, coupled with the Lich's appearance, meant the camp was no longer safe.
Thus, escaping this dangerous Mistland smoothly became an impossible dream.
Rather than passively waiting here for the reinforcements Graham claimed Derek might send, it was better to seize this opportunity to seek another path to survival.
Moreover...
Roland stuffed the remaining concentrated nutrient potions into his belt pouch while rapidly calculating in his mind.
"Even if Derek truly sends reinforcements, how will those armies cross the towering mountain range surrounding the camp?"
"While Tracy's mention of temporal magic remains uncertain, it's worth a try regardless."
"The round trip should take no more than two days. With Vanessa's Negative Energy Protection Potion, wraiths pose no threat, and ordinary demonic beasts are no match for me. As long as I proceed cautiously, such a short journey shouldn't present any significant problems..."
Having reached this conclusion, Roland explained the situation to Vanessa.
To his surprise, the Purple-Haired Witch, usually eager to join in on the excitement, was completely absorbed in studying the mind flayer's head.
Upon hearing Roland's words, she simply waved her hand dismissively and returned to her research.
Seeing this, Roland didn't press the matter further.
The journey to find the pixie's companions was short, so Roland decided to travel light and go alone.
After quickly bidding farewell to Avril in her tent, Mason buried in paperwork, and Freddy patrolling the perimeter, explaining his purpose and approximate return date, he quietly slipped away from the military camp, his figure quickly disappearing into the swirling gray mist.
Guided by the faint, firefly-like glow of Pixie Tracy, Roland traversed the forest.
Tracy's tiny form flitted ahead, then landed on his shoulder, her voice as thin as a mosquito's yet remarkably clear, directing him onward.
The path was far from smooth.
But with Roland's caution and formidable strength, the few demonic beasts that dared to attack were easily slain.
After an unknown amount of time, Tracy suddenly stopped.
"We're almost there, Roland!" Her voice was brimming with unrestrained excitement.
Her butterfly wings fluttered slightly, lifting her higher, and she pointed toward a hazy area that stood out from the surrounding gray desolation.
"Pass through those glowing vines, and you'll reach the Stardust Glade! My home! Can you feel it? That warm, vibrant life energy..."
Roland focused his gaze.
The mist ahead seemed to be blocked and thinned by an invisible force, revealing the outline of an area.
He could indeed sense a faint but distinct energy fluctuation within—like the first ray of sunlight piercing through the winter chill, carrying freshness and vitality, completely out of place in this desolate Mistland.
Nodding slightly, Roland followed Tracy's guidance, continuing forward.
As they neared her home, the tiny pixie grew increasingly lively, chattering incessantly in Roland's ear.
However, as they drew closer, the "warm life energy" Tracy had described failed to intensify as expected.
Instead, an indescribable chill crept up Roland's spine.
The humid, oppressive air seemed to be tainted with a faint, almost imperceptible...
stench of decay.
Tracy also sensed the anomaly.
Her cheerful humming abruptly ceased, her tiny body hovering in midair. The fluttering of her wings slowed noticeably, betraying a hint of hesitation and unease.
"Strange," she murmured, her voice filled with bewilderment.
"The Guardian Vines... why is their light... so dim?"
Roland didn't respond to Tracy's question, only silently tightening his grip on his sword hilt.
When he pushed aside the slightly overgrown bushes, the scene before them drew a small, incredulous cry of despair from Tracy.
Most of the glowing fungi had withered and died, like dusty lanterns. The few remaining specimens flickered with an unhealthy, intermittent spectral light.
On the vines that wrapped around the ancient tree, the starlight that once flowed freely was now covered by large patches of dark purple stains, like mold. In some places, the vines had even turned dry, charred black, and necrotic.
The stream had become murky and viscous, flowing slowly with a faint, fishy odor.
There were no cheerful buzzing sounds, no tinkling laughter in the forest—only a suffocating silence.
Even the wind seemed to have stalled here.
"No... this can't be..."
Tracy's voice was choked with tears, her small body trembling slightly from shock and fear, nearly causing her to fall from the air.
"Stardust Glade... how could it have come to this? My friends... the Pixie Queen..."
She frantically scanned the desolate forest, desperately searching for familiar faces among the silent trees.
Meanwhile, Roland's gaze swept across the blighted glade.
In moments, he spotted a dark, solidified pool at the base of an ancient tree whose bark resembled silver scales.
Sap?
He recognized this sap.
"Tracy."
Roland's voice was low and grave, shattering the suffocating silence.
He slowly drew his longsword, its cold blade gleaming ominously in the dim light.
"It seems your home... is in trouble."
(End of the Chapter)
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