Chapter 35: The Aura of a Peerless Master Soars to the Heavens (Part Two)
Dolun Continent, the Kingdom of Elan, in the southern region several thousand kilometers from Colin County.
The Province of Fremz is almost devoid of the kingdom’s inhabitants, for it lies amidst a desert, plagued by high temperatures and perpetual drought. The culprit behind this is the Flame Mountain at the province’s heart. Looking up from its base, one can see a colossal, fiery red tree atop the mountain, its crown piercing the clouds.
At this moment, upon the branches of that giant tree, a miniature palace sits. Inside, two tiny figures, each no larger than a thumb, are seated across from one another, engaged in a game of battle banners. Though diminutive in stature, an aura of immense power radiates from each. Were one to enlarge them, it would reveal that they are two elderly men. One is white-haired and bearded, wearing a pointed wizard’s hat; the other, with red hair and beard, possesses a smooth, youthful face untouched by the marks of age.
The white-haired elder spoke first. “I truly envy you, to possess such longevity. Unlike me—when my lifespan ends, no matter how much power or wealth I have, it is all meaningless. I wonder if I will survive another decade to bargain with you again.”
The red-haired elder replied with a dismissive smile, “It is merely the mountain gazing at the mountain beyond, thinking it is higher. I envy you for your freedom—you may go wherever you please, while I am forever trapped upon this tree, day after day. What meaning is there in a long life if it is spent in confinement?”
“Let us set aside such talk and return to our earlier discussion. Have you considered my proposal?” The white-haired elder laughed, steering the conversation away from fruitless debate, for he now found himself in need.
The red-haired elder was about to refuse as he had intended, when suddenly, a surge of formidable power arose from the north.
Both gazed northward in silence.
“A being of such strength… I wonder if they will hinder my plans or introduce other variables. I had intended to wait, to delay until this old man’s life was spent before executing my scheme. Now, it seems I must hasten,” the red-haired elder thought to himself.
“Very well! I agree. Next year, I will grant Grim Academy twenty more places,” the red-haired elder declared with vigor. He produced twenty medals, laying them out across the table—each a Castelon Flame Medal, like the one Andy possessed, though now shrunk to a fraction of its usual size.
...
North of the Silver Wing Fortress, where the Kingdom of Elan and the Principality of Sain face off, lies a small town. Close to the front lines, its population barely exceeds a thousand.
Due to the policies of the Principality of Sain, the divide between the Gillian and Victoria peoples here is far less pronounced than in the Kingdom of Elan; thus, they live intermingled.
Until half a year ago, when a band of Gillian mercenaries distinguished themselves in battle, their leader was knighted. This overlooked town on the edge of the battlefield thus became the fief of the Gillian Sir.
Francis gazed at the town’s night scenery, his heart tumultuous. None here knew his origins; none could imagine that he was the youth who, a century ago, fled Dolun Continent like a dog.
A hundred years ago, the Gillian independence movement, grand and tumultuous, failed utterly under the wizards’ intervention. As leader of the movement, his father was slain by sorcery in his palace on the third day of his kingship.
Thus, Francis, Gillian Prince, began his exile.
Later, he learned that the Grand Duke of Sain took advantage of the Kingdom of Elan’s depletion from the Gillian independence struggle to declare independence. Francis sought asylum from the Grand Duke, only to be coldly refused.
Helpless, he took his trusted followers and, aboard a small boat bought from fishermen, left Dolun Continent for the vast, unknown sea.
From then on, he embarked on a life of adventure and grandeur...
Now, he had returned. Though his own aptitude left him only a Bronze Wizard, his experience and perspective had vastly broadened. Having survived the brutal battlefields of other planes, he found the wars of Dolun Continent childish by comparison.
Victoria people had always called Gillians ‘natives.’ To Francis, they too were mere natives. In truth, all beings of the Azure Plane were but natives.
A knock sounded at the door. With his permission, a young woman in armor entered. She was his newly recruited hero, Christiane. Upon seeing her, Francis allowed a faint smile. “How goes it?”
“Reporting, Commander, the town’s mining and resource collection are fully operational. The base has produced a total of 527 advanced knight attendants, who are gaining experience and leveling up as mercenaries at the front lines. Seventy-three have been promoted to knights, six to great knights, and one to silver knight. Due to a shortage of magic stones, only eighty novice wizard apprentices have been produced; most are now intermediate, four have advanced, and one has become a bronze wizard.”
Francis listened, dissatisfied. Too slow! His enemies possessed gold-level beings. Unfortunately, establishing the base had consumed vast quantities of magic stones and resources, else he could have grown faster. He planned to seize nearby minor nobles’ territories and use their resources to upgrade his base, so he could mass-produce knights and intermediate wizard apprentices. Soon, he believed, he would possess the strength to rival the Kingdom of Elan or the Principality of Sain.
“And your own progress?” Francis asked Christiane with anticipation.
“I am already a silver wizard. Within half a year, I’ll surely reach gold,” Christiane replied. The answer delighted Francis.
A hero, indeed. The resources spent recruiting her had pained Francis, but now he saw it was well worth it.
Once she reached gold, Francis would fear nothing. Then, whether it be the Kingdom of Elan or the Principality of Sain, both would feel the flames of his vengeance. Amidst fire and blood, he would ascend the throne of Dolun Continent...
He would unite all the continent’s resources and wealth.
Raise armies!
Raise armies!
Raise armies!
Francis was envisioning the future when a surge of unfathomable power erupted from the Kingdom of Elan...
“Damn!” Francis jumped, startled. He hadn’t expected the Kingdom of Elan to possess such hidden cards. Thankfully, he hadn’t rushed in, thinking himself strong enough, only to be crushed.
Francis decided at once—it was best to keep cultivating for another two years. Once he had several gold-level units and a legion of silver, he would sweep the continent in a glorious campaign.
...
In the astral turbulence of the Star Realm, where the mileage from the Azure Plane cannot be measured...
A mountain-sized figure moved feebly through the astral stream. It had a torso and head resembling a human multiplied hundreds of times, but lacked human limbs. Instead, hundreds of tentacles grew from its body. With each sweep, it floated a great distance through the astral currents.
The astral turbulence frequently brought time-space rifts and spatial storms—dangerous enough to deter gold wizards. Yet this creature swam through them like an octopus in water, utterly at ease.
Its name was Kloyf, an exile in the astral turbulence for untold ages, now utterly lost. Aimlessly drifting, drifting—he believed he would do so forever.
Then, a surge of unparalleled power shot up from the Azure Plane...
“Hm?” Kloyf paused, suddenly serious. Vast mental energy shook the astral turbulence.
“Aha, locked on! This is the breath of the Life Plane.” Kloyf’s tentacles trembled in excitement, causing violent ripples in the astral flow.
“This power comes at just the right moment. How shall Kloyf repay you? Perhaps let me chew a little longer when I devour you. Yes, that is a delightful decision.”
Kloyf began drifting toward the direction he sensed, his tentacles calming the turbulence wherever he passed.
Within the astral turbulence, a despairing distance remained to the plane he had sensed. How long it would take Kloyf to reach the source of that power, none could say. But it mattered not—Kloyf had all the time and patience he needed. It was better than endless drifting.
“Colorful Life Plane, here comes Kloyf—”