Chapter 200: Transformation
The path to the inner fortress has always been busy. Definus, his face smeared with blood, led the way, flanked by three rows of troops who remained afraid.
Russell and his entourage were followed by Calia and Aella, Asharin, and the siblings Scilio and Weizen, as well as Lexi and Roscell. Roscell had a dark expression on his face.
As they set up camp, he recalled Russell’s narrative from the previous night.
‘Father drove a northern city into turmoil?”
The consequences of the northern cities sliding into disorder were obvious. Those cities are like teeth. Or perhaps they should be called fences, palisades, or breakwaters.
Their goal was to keep out whatever lied beyond, which was certain. The Awnhilnar Mountains, a realm of mystery and wilderness, had sent many mortals away, leaving them to mark the difference between valor and folly with their tombstones.
There were locations on the globe where the ley lines, or channels via which the Earth’s magical forces flowed, expressed themselves more directly. Such places included the Awnhilnar Mountains, Lake Kholeborn, and the Sea of Oblivion.
Aside from the ley lines that flowed through or under them, these locales all had an abnormally high concentration of magical energy. Wherever there was magical energy, there were demons and monsters.
The big cities of the north were like teeth, as they were the first line of defense against these beasts. By unleashing chaos on these cities, slaughtering their people, and depleting their defenses, you were allowing demonic expansion into the territories to the south and center.
If the northern cities collapsed, the gums would be exposed, and the rest of the land would follow. The demons and monsters may not make it all the way to the continent’s center or south, but cartographers will most likely have to redraw the northern borders.
Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people would be killed or displaced, resulting in anarchy. It was something the Empire couldn’t afford, especially given its current state of weakness.
‘Why did father give such an order? What was his purpose?’
Roscell was aware that his father, Count Jayvir, had been a vociferous supporter of the Prince, contributing funds from his holdings and cities to the Prince’s cause.
He was aware that his father had long aspired to enter core politics but had been unable to do so, owing primarily to his own personality.
If Roscell had to characterize his father, he’d compare him to a snake attempting to swallow a watermelon. He was crafty and ruthless, but he also had a propensity to overdo himself by attempting to swallow anything too large for his mouth. He was too little to wrap himself around the watermelon and crush it, so he slithered around it instead.
Roscell noticed the man strolling ahead of him. Russell was a man with a clearly noticeable physique.
He had been present when Russell faced Definus in the inn. He had watched as Definus, a magician who appeared to be so terrifying and powerful, was unable to lay a hand on Russell, who had beaten him senselessly.
Roscell had witnessed something shocking. Russell’s strikes had beaten the magician, who had always been by his father Jayvir since he was a child, now had blood dripping from his cheek after being struck by Russell.
He observed the soldiers walking beside them. They were men with no place in this duel of titans. The strength of their armor and helmets was no longer sufficient to instill confidence in their capacity to protect themselves.
They had witnessed Russell, a man who could wield and dispel magic at will, up close, and it was difficult not to lose their fighting spirit after that.
The knights that escorted them were no better at concealing their uneasiness, fidgeting with the hilts of their swords. They, too, were knights, and as such, they could appreciate Russell’s abilities.
The ease with which he had cut through Definus’ spell with a single swing of his axe was astounding. Magic was something you evaded or countered before it was cast, not something you confronted front-on.
But that was exactly what Russell had done, as simply as a child could break a stick. It evoked equal parts wonder and dread.
Asharin and Aellasis walked in the back of the company, behind Roscell and the knights.
Asharin had numerous questions for Aellasis, but most of them were ones that Aellasis couldn’t answer yet.
For example, Aellasis had no idea why all of the dragons had vanished or why the dragonkin had emerged. As she got older, the memories and powers that had been passed down to her fell into bits, and those facts were not among them.
That was why Asharin had asked to join, and she was now traveling with Russell’s company towards Brasilt’s inner city.
The gates to the inner keep were already open. The number of soldiers that joined them as they marched towards the vast hall increased.
Scilio and Weizen watched the swelling number of soldiers with concern. There were knights among them, and some of them possessed a level and quantity of magical energy that indicated they would be difficult to overcome.
Russell’s group came to a standstill in the Great Hall. The vast hall was designed like a rotunda. The doors to the big hall banged shut, and the clamor subsided.
Russell peered around the hall, at the soldiers behind pillars and against the walls, as well as the knights standing in front of them.
A throne was placed on a dais at the far end of the hall. It was elaborate, as befitted a count’s stronghold, even if the keep itself was not as vast as one might think. Count Jayvir sat on the throne, wearing full armor.
It was odd to see him wearing armor. Brasilt was not in a good geographical location to build an army, nor was it a good site to hold a defensive posture.
But there he was, seated on his throne with his helmet resting on his arm.
He was a man in his late sixties who handled himself beautifully. His white hair was perfectly combed, and his beard, which stretched from his sideburns to his chin, gave him a dignified look.
But his eyes were the most stunning feature about him. They were like snakes’s eyes, implying that his ability to maintain his position as lord of a big city for almost forty years was not due to chance.
Jayvir examined Russell’s group, which had been presented to him by Definus.
At first glance, they appeared to be a diverse group.
The man in the foreground, the woman beside him, the girl with the peculiar hair color, the tall woman, the siblings who looked so similar, and the dark elf.
He opened his mouth to talk.
“What is the meaning of this, Definus?”
“M, My apologies, Lord Count.”
Definus collapsed to his knees, unable to offer any protection. Jayvir turned away from Definus, his gaze roaming across the assemblage.
Russell spoke before he could.
“Was it you who ordered the destruction of Zahard’s lands, old man?”
“You insolent whelp!”
“How dare he!”
At Russell’s comments, the knights who had been lingering around drew their weapons. For a while, the hall was filled with the sounds of steel grinding on steel.
Russell stood motionless as the ten guards and over 150 troops glared at him. He cracked his neck from side to side.
“This has been a long time coming. Let’s get this over with.
“You won’t ask why. Why did I do these things?”
“It’s a trivial reason.”
“A trivial reason.”
Russell and Jayvir locked gazes. Jayvir smiled. The smile was chilly, like a snake’s.
“I’ve been looking into your activities since I learned you had entered my city. You’ve gotten your foot in the door of several major events in the past year.”
Russell did not respond. Jayvir continued to speak as if he didn’t expect a response.
“It’s a strange thing. Nobody has ever asked me why I want to relocate closer to the Empire’s center. They simply try to stop me, or they approach and ask for help.”
Jayvir extended his hand, and a servant who had been standing behind him moved forward and brought him a goblet. Jayvir examined the scarlet liquid in the transparent glass goblet, swirling it.
“That’s because they know too. The mysterious allure of power and strength. It makes everything better. Better women, friends, leaders, and individuals.”
“Father.”
Roscell stepped forward. The other soldiers only just noticed Roscell standing in the middle of the hall.
“Roscell. Why are you there?”
“I have a question.”
“Ask it.”
“What did the Prince promise you?”
Jayvir gazed at his son with an unreadable expression. His son, now in his forties, had not yet challenged him for the title of lord, preferring to remain by his side as his vassal.
He had assigned Roscell responsibilities when he traveled to the Imperial capital, but Roscell showed no sign of wanting to cultivate the power to overthrow Jayvir.
Jayvir felt both happy and frustrated by this. He understood the two emotions were diametrically opposed, but that’s how he felt.
He was getting older, and his body wasn’t what it once was. The magical force he had spent his life creating was slipping away, and his vitality was dwindling.
“He promised to turn back time.”
“Time?”
“The time I lost. My youth. Call it whatever you want.”
Jayvir brought the cup to his lips and concentrated his gaze on Russell. His lips twisted slightly.
“I would do anything for that.”
He brought the mug to his lips and drank. Russell moved with lightning speed, pulling his axe and longsword and hurling them at Jayvir at the same instant.
Nobody had seen Russell move. The knights, who had been closest to Jayvir, could only widen their eyes and brace themselves.
Russell felt something approaching him quickly in the vast expanse of time. He noticed a familiar magical force and aura and looked up.
Clang-!
The soldiers collapsed to the ground, covering their ears. The knights were able to raise their magical defenses in time to avoid harm.
Russell, who was knocked back by the hit, looked up. Across from him, buried in the hall wall, was the figure who had confronted his attack head-on, screaming.
“Kuaaaagh!”
“Are you mad?”
He was obviously not in his right mind. Russell’s eyes widened as he watched the magical energy blast from his body.
“He’s going berserk.”
“Kaaagh!”
Livenbus, who had lost his mind, charged at Russell again. But without the skills and movements he had possessed before, he was no match for him.
Russell, who had instantly severed his neck and waist, turned his head and looked at the throne where Jayvir was sitting.
The knights and soldiers were in confusion, murmuring among themselves. After all, a monster-like creature had suddenly appeared behind the count and attacked Russell.
“Lord Count?”
Someone chatted with Jayvir. He sat on his throne, his head low. The glass cup in his right hand had fallen.
The goblet shattered, making a faint, tinkling sound. Jayvir gently lifted his head. His eyes started to glow red, and it spread.
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