They only have four hours… It didn’t take long for the level 20 prophet’s words to spread throughout Norland. If they didn’t request military aid and refused to retreat, every warrior in the City of the Unsetting Sun would wind up dead, including the three legends at the helm. Short-term prophecies were rarely inaccurate, so everyone was left dumbstruck.
“Could Rundstedt be planning to destroy the portal?” someone murmured, striking hard at the hearts of those present. Those of Faust had already proved their courage, why were they still so persistent?
Lawrence suddenly snapped awake in the middle of his room, his eyes going wide open as he realised that there was nobody to heal. The roars of Daxdians could be heard approaching from beyond the windows, forcing the old man to drag his exhausted body and get up. A delicate dagger in hand, he stared pointedly at the door; long since drained of mana, he could barely move about. He was no stronger than an ordinary old man, but the dagger would not leave him before his life.
The smell of blood suddenly grew stronger as a crimson mist wafted in from outside.
The golden grains of sand were slowly flowing down in hourglasses all across Norland. Every grain seemed ever so dense.
Only a few minutes into the wait, all of Norland was shocked by news that Bloodthirsty Philip of the Sacred Alliance had left the Fort of Dawn to engage in an ultimate battle against two high-level legends of Daxdus. Everyone was taken aback by this news; it meant that the Emperor had given up his defensive advantage for a potential battle to the death. His loss would be a great blow to the entire Sacred Alliance and possibly to all of Norland.
Some legends pretended to be unfazed, saying that the Dragon Butcher would surely reap enemy lives, but most powerhouses knew that even divine weapons had limited impact on such epic battles.
Within the Church of the Eternal Dragon in Faust, the hourglass in High Priestess Ferlyn’s hands suddenly exploded into pieces and blood streamed from the corners of her eyes. Even she couldn’t influence or even predict the ending of such a battle.
A mere ten minutes later, the battle had come to a conclusion. Philip and his two guards were carried back to the Fort of Dawn, while the two Daxdians had been forced to retreat. One of the two normal legends amongst the enemies had been killed, and the other forced to retreat without the ability to even retrieve his companion's corpse.
This information was received with a burst of cheers, but that quickly died down. The message had omitted the most important part of it all; the seriousness of Philip’s injuries.
As the hundreds of saints tacitly tried to avoid the topic in the Millennial Empire’s teleportation hall, a gentle voice suddenly broke the dead silence, “Everyone, please make way.”
Almost every expert subconsciously stepped aside, looking back in surprise to see a rather petite silhouette disappear into the portal. The Sword Saint of the Millennial Empire had entered the Land of Dusk.
Three hours and three minutes before the prophecy’s end, the Daxdian hordes surrounding the Snowstorm Fortress were completely broken apart. An epic being was forced to retreat while two legends sustained heavy injuries. The soldiers of the Millennial Empire flooded into the dark wilderness.
Three hours before the time of the prophecy, a mysterious woman appeared in the capital of the Millennial Empire and took large strides towards the teleportation hall. The woman was wrapped in a thick cloak from head to toe, only revealing a pair of bottomless eyes. The most memorable part about her was the enormous sword she had strapped horizontally across her back, a metre wide and almost four metres long. The sheathless sword that was disproportionate to her form was held in place by animal skin, but it seemed extremely stable on her back.
Even more surprising was the fact that this woman walked through the Millennial Empire as she liked. She passed through many strategic locations along the way, but nobody stopped her even once. Even the legendary being guarding the portal subconsciously cleared the path for her.
Word quickly spread that Empress Gelan was in the midst of an afternoon nap. Of course, everyone knew that such excuses were only used to avoid meeting certain people. It was just that no one knew exactly who she was trying to avoid.
Two hours and fifty-five minutes before the end of the prophecy, the mysterious woman disappeared into the depths of the dark wilderness. Exactly forty-four minutes later, she had returned to the Millennial Empire and vanished quietly. The only difference seemed to be a few more nicks on her enormous blade, and an ominous aura of death.
“Azuresnow Shrine, she’s—” a saint suddenly closed her mouth halfway through the sentence. There were some names completely forbidden in the Millennial Empire, and the name of the former leader of the Azuresnow Shrine was one of them. It was this very woman that had completely subdued Prince Greyhawk’s army and then his heart, giving birth to Princess Mountainsea.
Empress Gelan hadn’t seen her most beloved son ever since, only his daughter who had once come to visit.
Many saints discussed as to why the former saintess had entered the Land of Dusk, but there was no answer to be found.
As the final moments approached, Faust turned increasingly lively. Earl Goliath and Marquess Sauron caught sight of each other at the Ironblood teleportation gate, both noting that the other was fully armed battle.
“”You want to go too?”” They asked each other simultaneously, then grunting with annoyance, “”Do you want to die?””
Eventually, the two just glowered at each other before walking into the portal shoulder to shoulder. At this point, there was still an hour and fifty minutes before the prophesied time came to pass.
Powerhouses continued to rush towards the City of the Unsetting Sun one after the other, but even considering all of the Sacred Alliance the number of experts able and willing to participate in the war were scarce. Most of those who ended up going could only be called ‘experts’ in ordinary battles, not on the scale of the battlefields of despair, and even then a majority of those going weren’t doing so willingly.
However, not everyone was aware that the fourth and last of the epic-level Daxdians had already been sent retreating.
News travelled slow to the frontlines. Those who fought and killed with all their might had no clue about what was happening, and by now it was too late for any reinforcements to assist. The gathered experts from the other two empires could only rush in if the City of the Unsetting Sun fell, reclaiming it from the depleted Daxdians once more.
At this point, there were 58 minutes to go until the end of the prophecy.
Within the core of the city, a saint’s sword suddenly hit the hard ground. The recoil caused him to gasp in pain, but he forced his arm to move and went into a defensive stance as he wiped away the blood that was covering his eyes. However, his eyes went wide as he realised that there was nobody in front of him. Hastily wiping his eyes once more and scanning around the nearby alleys, he nearly dropped his sword in surprise.
Those of his comrades who survived were the same. They watched in dazed disbelief as the enemy Daxdians ran away, not to their camps but far beyond into the dark wilderness. Finally, a difficult notion sprang up inside their minds: had they just won?
Indeed, the Daxdians were retreating. The City of the Unsetting Sun had succeeded in its defence. However, there was no cheering as every single warrior in the city slumped to the ground. Some were gasping for air, while many others had already entered an eternal repose. These soldiers should have died long ago, but had forced themselves to fight on through sheer power of will until they saw the moment of victory with their own eyes.
Smiles hung on the faces of the dead while tears streamed down the cheeks of the living. The Eternal Glory continued to burn away the harrowing darkness of the world.Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Translated By: Karen
Edited By: Theo
TLC'ed By: OMA