Brando flew along the Gars River towards Menta. Beneath his feet was the vast Western Forest of Schafflund. From the air, the dark forest of late winter mixed with the dazzling white of snow made it seem as if the world was being covered in silver. This forest was not a remote place. In fact, it was the main road that connected Menta, Orta, Paris, and Schafflund to Abies. There were scattered manors and villages in the forest, and the occasional hunter's hut could be seen in the forest. However, most of them were already deserted. The aura of war condensed in the sky above Tónigel.
Seeing this scene, Brando's heart was calm. The construction of Abies was the culmination of many people's hard work. Amandina and the Roman spent years to turn this barren land into a prosperous place for business.
But compared to the difficulty of construction, destruction often took only a short moment.
Erouine's nobles were not only unable to guide the kingdom forward, but also became the root of its progress. The Royal Faction in his memory had long since ceased to exist. Her Royal Highness hoped that the people could regain the faith of the late king, but in the end, it was only a bubble.
This was not all good. Erouine had returned to the mortal world, and its heroes had even decided the tragic fate of the kingdom.
This experience of starting all over again told him that everything in history was not a coincidence. Everyone involved, including himself, had pushed the course of history, and set it on a path of no return.
But he did not feel anger.
Or rather, his cold emotions suppressed his anger. What he needed was no longer anger, but a thorough cleansing.
He understood that everyone could have done many wrong things, and he was no exception. Neither he nor Princess Gryphine could decide all of this.
But since the nobles had chosen their own fate.
Then they must have expected the outcome of failure.
At that moment, Brando understood that an era had passed, and the Erouine he was familiar with would also be gone forever.
He had completely unfolded his web of laws, and the power of the Sage shrouded the world. It was an aura that was close to that of a god, but it had fused with the origin of this world. This was the power of existence. It was supreme, but it existed everywhere, and no one could detect it. When everyone was searching for the ultimate power, they did not know that they were already in it.
That was the power of the entire world.
In Brando's eyes, the sky above the forest formed a large net that constantly moved closer to the center. It was no longer made of continuous space, but nodes. When he passed through these nodes, the scene on the ground seemed to automatically shrink from far to near to him. To an outsider, it was a point in the sky that continuously leaped forward, forming a straight silver line, like a meteor streaking across the sky, heading towards Fort Menta...
"Dad! Dad! Meteor! "
In the depths of the forest, a young man dressed in wolf skin pointed to the sky and shouted excitedly. Behind him, the middle-aged man with a frown on his face gave him a knock on the head. "How can there be a shooting star in broad daylight? Hurry up!"
"But it's real!" The youth said, holding his head in grievance.
The hunter looked up at the sky. Even in the gloomy snowy sky, the sky above Menta Forest was spotless. There was nothing in the sky. Thick clouds piled up on the horizon, and only palm-sized snowflakes drifted down. He sighed, "This cursed weather. Is Lady Martha blind to let the good suffer and the wicked enjoy? I thought Tónigel would have a moment of peace, but these damned nobles want to take away the last hope of us refugees? "
"Hmph, those nobles are the most despicable. They only dared to do this when the Count is not around. If the Count comes back, they'll be taught a lesson!" The youth said childishly.
His father, however, did not care.
That was just wishful thinking. The nobles stood high and looked far ahead. If they dared to make a move, then they must have absolute confidence. Perhaps the Count was already dead. At the very least, even if the nobles lost, they would only be punished and have to pay for their sins. The king also needed the lords to rule his country. If the princess killed all these people, who would work for her?
Would she choose talents from the commoners? Heh, how could there be any talents among the commoners? They were illiterate. Even he did not believe that he could stand shoulder to shoulder with the nobles, let alone rule this country. The nobles were always in cahoots. What could the Count change? He alone could not challenge the entire world of nobles in Erouine.
The older hunter had long passed the age of hot-bloodedness, and there were even some who looked down on the locals of Trentheim. The locals would boast about their lord as if he was a god in order to gain some pitiful vanity. He had seen it many times. In Bruglas, in Randner, where were the citizens who were not like this? Of course, the Count might really have some powerful aspects, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to turn the tide in Ampere Seale. But to say that he could make the Kirrlutzians bow their heads and gain the favor of the high and mighty Silver Folk was a bit too much of an exaggeration. Even Marshal Darius could not do such a thing. How could his descendants do it? Each generation was worse than the last.
The nobles fought for nothing more than for the purpose of fighting for power and profit. This time, the nobles banded together to deal with the Count of Tónigel because he stood on the wrong side. He had long heard that the count was secretly drooling over the princess' beauty, and could not help but shake his head inwardly. Heroes have a weakness for the charms of beauties, but that did not necessarily mean that he was a hero. Even he could see that the Covardo Royal Family was already on the verge of collapse, and the count was so stubborn and foolish.
He could not help but shake his head, hating himself for being blind and believing the nonsense of his fellow countrymen. He chose to move from Manorville to this place. He should have known that this was a place of trouble and chose to go to the north of Viero. If not for the fact that he was worried that those hateful skeletons would go north.
The resentment in his heart turned into physical action. He kicked his half-grown son's butt and scolded him with the authority of a parent, "Stop talking nonsense and hurry up and leave. If you fall into the hands of those damn rebels, you'll be in for it."
Logically speaking, his son should have been obedient after he kicked him like that. But he didn't expect that this time, the youth seemed to have become stupid. He didn't know that his butt had been hit, and he stood there in a daze without moving.
"What are you standing there for?" The elder hunter snapped. "Are you waiting for death?"
Who would have thought that his son would turn a deaf ear and stare straight ahead as if he had lost his soul.
The elder hunter grew up in the forest. Although he was more familiar with the forests north of Manorville and Braggs, he had been exposed to the legends of the mountain people since he was young. Naturally, he knew that other than prey in the mountains, there were also some creepy places. In the north of Braggs, the forests there had been developed by the locals for thousands of years. Even the most remote places had hunter huts. Even so, there were still rumors of hunters encountering strange things. Every year, a few people would go missing, let alone in a remote place like Tónigel.
He felt his hair stand on end and instinctively reached out to his son, pulling him back by the shoulder as he shouted: "What are you looking at? Get your ass back here!" At the same time, he also looked in that direction.
With one look, the father and son were stunned on the spot.
It was a chaotic scene in the Tree Hall. The screams of the Light Spirits rose and fell one after another.
"Energy conversion to 86 … 77 … 65 … 40 … 33 … 11%. Warp complete. Rematerializing. Valhalla taking root. Recalculating coordinates …"
"Valhalla, be careful!" Monique suddenly screamed.
"Ah …" There was a panicked cry.
"The Odum Stronghold is going to turn incorporeal again! Recalculate the coordinates of the seventh and eighth roots! "
"Rematerialization complete. Mana consumption is over the limit. Warning, the seventh root's mana engine is overheating!"
The light spirits screamed in panic: "That's the prototype that miss Amandina provided, we're dead if it breaks!"
"We're dead!"
"Run!"
"Shut up, you idiots!" Monique was fed up with her brainless companions: "That's not what we need to worry about right now!"
"Inject the coolant!" She shouted.
"Coolant injection complete. Temperature dropping. Mana estimated to be depleted in twenty seconds. Countdown commencing. Twenty, nineteen … ten, nine. The eighth root has taken root. The seventh root has taken root. Odum Fortress is rematerializing. Cutting off mana output …"
"Valhalla warp complete. Cooldown commencing. Recharge estimated to be completed in fifteen minutes."
The tall white-clothed girl finished her report in a flat tone, but her face was a little red. It was obvious that the previous dangerous scene was not completely without impact on her. She then closed her eyes to check the status of the fortress. After confirming that there were no errors, she said: "The fortress is in good condition. There are no abnormalities."
Monica collapsed in front of the control panel under the crystal tower like a puddle of soft mud. The other light spirits in the hall also let out a sound of relief. Then, they all fell to the ground one after another like drunken flies, as if they had just survived a disaster.
… …
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