30. Crocune, May You Stay Strong

By the time Governor Haton arrived at the battlefield with the garrison from Nathraxas Hold, the fighting had entered its final, grim conclusion.

The Petrified Forest... no, there was no Petrified Forest left.

The place of origin for the Eredar, as remembered by the old governor, had been reduced to a sea of fire. Those trees, twisted into strange shapes by elemental forces, could not withstand the ravages of fel fire. The terrain at the very heart of the forest had been blasted into a jagged rift, where visible fel energy churned and rose like magma. The colossal remains of demons lay half-buried within, and the terrifying, acrid stench of sulfur turned the place into a living hell.

Shattered demons still scrambled across the battlefield, being hunted down and slaughtered by vengeful Eredar warriors. The broken demons occasionally tried to resist, but with their morale utterly shattered, even the most ferocious among them could no longer mount a meaningful attack.

"Heaven help us... heaven help us..." Governor Haton murmured, seated atop his war talbuk, staring at the scene.

Not even in his wildest nightmares could he have imagined such a war. As they advanced toward the area where the soldiers had been resting, the path was choked with the mingled bones of demons and the fallen. Many defenders remained in their combat stances, propping themselves up with their weapons, eyes wide with fury, though their heroic souls had long since departed their shells.

They had burned themselves out.

An exhausted Jaid was leading a few talbuk riders in gathering the remains of the warriors. Seeing Governor Haton arrive, the rugged Krokuun plains rider let tears fall down his battle-scarred face. As the commander of the Krokuun outriders, he felt he had failed his father. After the succession of bloody battles, less than one-sixth of the cavalry that had followed him into the Petrified Forest remained. It was as if he had personally led the bravest warriors of Krokuun into the abyss.

Worst of all, he had survived.

Governor Haton sighed. He dismounted his talbuk and placed a hand on his foster son's shoulder. No words were exchanged, yet everything was understood. Jaid wiped his eyes and handed a blood-stained bag to the governor. It was filled with the Hearts of Argus left behind by the fallen. The pendants and rings radiated the lingering scent of smoke and death from the war, making them appear particularly ominous.

Yet, having been imbued and erupted with the power of the world at least once, these simple artifacts now radiated an undeniable brilliance. The power of the Argus world-soul had been released through these conduits, and the residual energy had altered the very physical properties of the items.

Haton pulled out a ring to examine it. The holy stone fragment embedded within now resembled a crystal reflecting starlight, having fused completely with the celestial gold band, which showed signs of melting. More importantly, the aura contained within the ring was heavy and sharp—an intensity that finally gave it the stature of a true artifact. Given the legendary outcome of this battle, calling this bag of legacies "Eredar Relics" was fitting.

"Where is Diakum?" Haton asked his foster son, carefully wiping the blood from the ring. "I must speak with him."

"The Brigadier is resting. In truth, he fell into a coma after slaying the Doomlord Kazzak at the end of the battle. Captain Nari is attending to him." Jaid looked toward the edge of the battlefield at the fleeing demons. His eyes were filled with hatred and murderous intent. He snatched a jeweled saber from a fallen defender, swung onto his talbuk, and said in a hoarse voice, "I have a duty to fulfill, Father. My 'demon-slaying quota' for today is not yet met; I need thirty more demon heads before I can rest. I will not accompany you."

"Very well. Be careful, child. Take the soldiers with you." Haton handed over the soldiers he had brought. "These are recruits. You must take the time to temper them."

"They shall have a battle first! If they survive, they will be veterans." The cavalry captain's reply was cold, as if the boisterous plainsman had completely transformed into a cold-blooded war maniac. Yet, the veterans under his command showed no resistance, even nodding in agreement. They clearly believed this harsh selection process was in line with the rules of the Hand of Argus.

Haton watched his foster son depart with the warriors. Escorted by a few guards, he crossed the silent, solemn battlefield and finally reached the vicinity of the "Fel Magma Pool" that had become a rift. He soon found Captain Nari in the area filled with wounded soldiers.

Tramon, the Blademaster of the Five Titans, stood guard by Dick’s side. The Brigadier was still unconscious, and Haton was shocked by the severity of his wounds upon approaching. Beyond the burns from the fel fire and the impact injuries from the explosion, Dick's already sturdy body seemed to have "swollen" further. His skin was scorching hot, his expression one of agony.

Haton hurriedly called upon the elements to heal him, but in this holy forest, completely destroyed by Kazzak’s suicidal detonation, even the lingering elemental power had become weak and obscure.

"Dick did not suffer fatal wounds, Governor. There is no need for such worry," Nari said, gasping for breath while sitting on a nearby rock. She dropped her damaged sapphire hand-cannon and explained, "Dick is unconscious because he bore the infusion of the world’s power for too long. That energy is not meant for mortals to hold. His mind is exhausted, and he needs rest. Please, rest assured; Imira just checked on him and told me that the Light protects Brigadier Dick. He is healthier than the other wounded on this field. If you have energy to spare, perhaps you should go help the priests and shamans treat the others."

"Your losses..." The Governor nodded, standing up to ask softly.

Nari shook her head. "Few warriors died directly from demon attacks. Most of the fallen died because they could not withstand the infusion of the world's power, exhausting their lives and burning themselves out. The blessing bestowed by the World Soul was too powerful; we were driving it with our lives. But perhaps this is not a bad thing... Argus watches over us, and I believe our World Soul will take good care of those heroic souls. In truth, to return one's soul to the world in such a way during this war is not a terrible outcome for us."

"Do not harbor such thoughts!" Governor Haton rebuked her. "You must persevere no matter what. Do not seek death until the very last moment; that is not the Eredar tradition... I know the soldiers need rest, but orders have arrived from the Mac'Aree region. Admiral Sfurax's fleet will soon reach the Krokuun coast, and we are to evacuate with them. This land... now that the excavation of the holy stones and the forging of the Hearts of Argus have come to an end, there is no longer any value in holding it. The civilians have already been evacuated. We are the last of the Krokuun to leave."

"We are abandoning it?" Nari sighed but did not argue. With Argus under a full-scale demonic invasion, there was indeed little sense in allocating precious military forces to hold a frontier like Krokuun. She silently accepted the order but made one request: she wanted Governor Haton to take the shamans to find a hidden place within the complex cave structures where the holy stones were kept, to lay the fallen of the Hand of Argus to rest. She did not want the warriors' remains to be desecrated by demons after they retreated.

Such a reasonable request was granted. Several shaman elders immediately set out to find a suitable "resting place." With the help of the highly active and battle-hungry elemental forces, finding an appropriate area was not difficult.

Haton leaned down and used his long sleeve to wipe the blood from Dick's face. He looked at the child he had adopted and watched grow up. Honestly, he had never expected the average-talented Dick to achieve great things, but it had been proven that individual destiny, beyond personal effort, also depended on the development of the era. The age of catastrophe on Argus seemed to have become a stage for warriors, and the courage, strength, and leadership shown by rising stars like Dick proved that his child definitely had the makings of an outstanding hero.

"Krokuun will be proud of you, child. And this useless old man is proud as well." With a sense of relief, the Governor stood up and headed toward the infirmary. On the way, he saw the exhausted twins and several scarred arcanists processing the head of the Doomlord Kazzak.

The massive demon head sat there like a grotesque sculpture. Its ugly face seemed to retain the rage and fury from the moment of its decapitation. One of its giant black horns had been broken off, but the fragments, still echoing with power, had been recovered by the soldiers. According to the twins and the arcanists, such legendary materials could be used to forge high-level magical instruments. The twins suggested using this demigod horn to forge a weapon for Brigadier Dick to commemorate his glorious deeds in Krokuun.

This proposal was met with agreement from the other arcanists. The Eredar had long held such traditions; much like the notorious practice of phrenology, they believed that the power of enemies or elders could strengthen the holder through this form of "inheritance." Of course, Kazzak’s defeated head would be purified with arcane arts and taken back to Mac'Aree as proof to boost morale.

Haton looked at the damned Destroyer of Worlds with disgust and spat in its direction to express his disdain. The Governor’s hatred had a reason. This cursed demon had completed its "final retaliation" before death; the nearby shattered rift and the churning fel magma within were the result of its last strike against Krokuun. He had already reached a pessimistic conclusion by listening to the elements: this fel pool would become a center of pollution for Krokuun, eventually turning the entire plain and mountain range into a barren wasteland. Even in death, a demigod-level demon remained a disaster for the world it fell upon.

"Don't get up, child. Lie down. Let me heal you." Governor Haton did not stand on ceremony. He crouched beside a wounded soldier, calling upon water elementals to soothe the young person's body, which was suffering from fel burns, and asked gently, "Are you a veteran?"

"No, Governor. I am just a recruit. I arrived three days ago; I was a shepherd before." The girl gripped the Heart of Argus on her chest and answered with some shame, "My combat skills are poor. Although I fought with all my might, even with the help of the World Soul, I only slew seven demons before being knocked down by an Ereduin. Such a result makes me ashamed to admit I am a veteran of the 'Hand of Argus.' They say... the captain who died in battle told me that a recruit must claim at least thirty demon heads in one battle to be recognized for courage and strength by their peers. I am sorry, Governor. I have disappointed you, Brigadier Diakum, and our homeland."

"No, child, you have done well. These plains we love will be proud of your courage." Haton said softly, "Do not fret over what has passed. You should recover now. The demon spawn's heads are right there; you will have enough time to earn your honors. War is never easy. I wish you victory on the coming battlefields, but do not forget where we came from and where we are going. Child, your sword should fight for your firm morals and faith. Just like Diakum... take him as your example. He is the example for us all."

***

Dick woke up a day later.

When he opened his eyes, he felt dizzy and his head was pounding. The faint pain in his body was nothing, but the twitching in his brain felt exactly like the fatigue that comes from overworking one's mind. This would not recover in a day or two; after all, his character card already bore the glaring negative statuses of [Soul Weakness] and [Self-Discipline]. The former was due to the immense mental pressure of bearing the limit infusion of the world's power, and the latter was from the exhaustion of his holy energy after repeatedly using high-level techniques like Divine Shield and Lay on Hands, which required massive concentrations of holy power. This meant he could not engage demons in close combat for a while, which was a pity.

However, when Dick sat up from his bed, he suddenly noticed several new, notable entries on his character card:

Name: Diakum Zastins
Rank: Mortal -> Legendary · Critical (You have undergone a rigorous trial; you are but a step away from becoming a legend in both physiological and social terms.)
Primary Attributes (Unlocked due to impending promotion):
Stamina: Current Rank · Limit.
Strength: Current Rank · Perfect (requires completion of promotion to increase further).
Agility: Current Rank · Upper (please increase as soon as possible).
Spirit: Current Rank · Upper.
Intelligence: Current Rank · Middle (Not a necessary requirement for the [Vindicator] class, but essential for the [Priest] class promotion).
Force Path:
Holy Light Affinity · Upper, meets promotion requirements.
Radiant Energy Pool · Limit, space for improvement exists.

Strength Advice:
[Vindicator class has met the requirements for Legendary promotion, but progress in the Priest class is insufficient. To maximize combat effectiveness, please improve the comprehensive quality of the Priest class as soon as possible to ensure dual-class promotion.
Hint!
After becoming a Legend, the third class slot will be unlocked.
After becoming a Legend, the Legendary/Hero class slot will be unlocked.
Please prepare in advance.]

"Hiss..."

After reading the prompt information, Dick gasped. On one hand, he was surprised that his character card had such an intelligent attribute display; on the other, was his intelligence really only "Middle"? That couldn't be right! Was he a moron? That was impossible; he clearly felt he was quite smart... there must be a problem somewhere!

But surveying his current "Strength Report," there were quite a few items he could improve. Since he was in the [Self-Discipline] state and unfit for melee combat with demons, he might as well use the remaining time to practice his spellcasting abilities.

Thinking this, he endured his headache and left the room. The familiar stone corridor signaled that he had returned to Nathraxas Hold. He and Jaid had grown up here; he knew the place well. It was late at night. Dick walked along the wall, leaning on it, and saw Captain Nari standing on the castle balcony, gazing into the distance. She looked lost, staring into the night without a word.

"What are you looking at?" he said softly. "As an elite ranger, you can't even detect someone approaching from behind?"

"If you were a demon, you would already have a crystallized explosive arrow in your head. I have three more of such weapons hidden on me," Nari said, waving a hidden, small jeweled hand-crossbow. "How do you feel? Imira and Governor Haton both said you should rest. They said you almost burned yourself out."

"I'm alright. A bit better than dead, but I shouldn't complain because I'm still alive." Dick stepped up to the massive stone railing of the balcony. He followed Nari's gaze. From this high point of the castle on the Krokuun ridge, one could faintly see the Petrified Forest at the other end of the Krokuun plains. Even in the dead of night, eerie dark green light flickered there, like the bonfire of an evil force.

"This place is finished," Nari said hoarsely. "Fel energy is spreading from there. The elements cannot purify it, and the Light cannot either. Kazzak’s explosion injected fel energy into the magma of the mantle, making the world scream. That polluted magma is constantly rushing out of the rift, and we... we cannot stop it!"

"So, you think all of this is meaningless?" Dick immediately understood the reason for Nari’s low spirits. He sighed and said softly, "You think we sacrificed so many people, held that place for ten full days, killed so many demons, and even slew a fel demigod, yet such a glorious victory could not protect our land—just like the civilian rescue we are conducting across the world right now. You think no matter how many demons we kill, Argus will eventually fall, and we will still have to embark on an exile into the stars. You think it's all meaningless, right?"

"I joined the Assassin's Court to protect the people, Dick, but I failed! I fought with all my might, but I could only watch as our homeland fell into the hands of the enemy." Nari's fingers tightened on the masonry. She said, "Can such a tragic outcome really be called a victory? Perhaps... perhaps Xal'atath was right?"

"Hey, Natrezim hiding in Nari's soul, come out and talk!" Dick reached out and tapped the Ranger Captain on the head, joking. This made Nari glare at him in anger. The young Ranger Captain felt she was speaking from the heart, but this damn Brigadier kept making light of it.

"If it was all meaningless, why didn't we just surrender from the start?" Dick smiled and said, "I have something I haven't told you because I was worried about the pressure... Argus gave us far more than just a simple artifact, the Heart of Argus. Nari, when you received the blessing that day, you also carried a fragment of the world-soul's will. During your brief rests these past few days, haven't you dreamed of things that happened in Argus's past? That is the resonance of the world's memories. It means the fragment of the world-soul's will is merging with your soul. Do not deny it; I have spoken to others, and I have confirmed you all have similar situations. That is the brand of the World Soul in our minds and souls. Unless we die, that fragment of will cannot be completely stripped away."

"Huh?" Nari touched her forehead subconsciously. She looked at Dick curiously. Dick did not keep her waiting; he gently told her about his contract with Argus. Their experiences of fighting and living through life-and-death situations had already surpassed that of ordinary friends. This was a relationship worthy of entrusting secrets.

Upon learning that the Argus World Soul was using the Eredar's spirit to preserve its own mind and prevent itself from being completely polluted into a monster by fel energy, all the decadence in Nari's eyes vanished. She finally understood why the two Triumvirates insisted on sending the people into the stars. She realized that this was by no means just a flight for personal survival or the current situation. This difficult choice was not weak at all.

"We must protect our people. Each of them is important, because every Eredar is allowed to carry a small fragment of their homeland's world-soul will when they leave the world," Dick looked up at the sea of stars. "You are the same, and so am I. One day, we will return! We will return the treasure we preserved with our lives to our world to help Her break free from misfortune and disaster. I told you this so you would know that all of this has meaning, little Nari! Every fellow countryman we help survive gives our world a greater hope for recovery in the future. We are doing the right thing! Keep your mind firm, just like the oath you took when you joined the Assassin's Court. Every person is worth our utmost effort to protect. It will be hard, Nari. After we step into the stars, every day will be difficult, and every day will be a test of our minds. The people need leaders to guide them through the dark quagmires filled with thorns. That is the meaning of the Fire-Bearer's existence. You will become a Fire-Bearer! You are destined to be a protector and a leader; fate has chosen you."

"You know, the tone you're using now sounds exactly like those mystical prophets, right?" Nari complained. "Just like the way Velen speaks, unfathomable."

"That's because I'm a priest," Dick took out his priest badge and flicked it, making Nari's eyes widen. Good heavens, she had been through life and death with Dick so many times, yet she never knew he actually had a priest identity; she had always thought he was joking about being a priest.

"How's my eloquence?" Dick asked with a smile. Nari pouted and said, "Quite average. I can only say... want to go for a walk? This may be our last night in Krokuun."

*Pop.*

A crisp flick to the forehead made the ranger cry out in pain, followed by Dick walking away slowly with his hands behind his back. He whispered, "The legal age for marriage for an Eredar is 300, and the age at which one is permitted to have intimate contact with the opposite sex is 200, and you are only a hundred-something, little girl. Don't think about those things, and don't expect to send me to prison through some terrible effort of yours... I am a Vindicator; I know these things inside out! Go rest. We have to travel across the sea tomorrow."

"Pfft, boring. What age are we in to still hold onto those old-fashioned laws? Velen abolished those regulations that hindered population growth thousands of years ago."

Amidst Nari's complaints, Dick hummed and stepped into the staircase leading to the depths of the castle. He intended to talk to Governor Haton about tomorrow's transfer, but he unexpectedly encountered the Governor in the castle library, sorting through ancient texts. The latter was pushing a cart, placing the parchment and stone tablets he had collected into it. These were precious pieces of knowledge to be taken away, which could be used in the future to describe the customs of the world of Argus to the children.

"Are you crying?" Dick said softly. "In my memory, you are very strong."

"Nonsense! I’ve spent my whole life in Krokuun, and I intended to die here. Now I have to say goodbye to my homeland... what's wrong with me crying? Do I not have that right?" Haton scolded angrily.

Dick apologized carefully and stepped forward to help the Governor pack the books. As they left the library, Governor Haton touched the altar he had found during archaeological work several years ago, left behind by the Eredar of the ancient era when they performed sacrifices. He stroked the rough rock and did not speak for a long time. Finally, under Dick's gaze, the Governor patted the ancient stone as if patting and comforting a sleeping child.

He said softly, "Be strong... we will return."

"Yes, may this land, these rocks, and the singing elements be as strong as the people," Dick also reached out to leave his comfort on the altar. He pressed his forehead against it and whispered, "Wait for the reunion in the future, Krokuun, my homeland. Good night."