Translator: CinderTL
The sharp whistle of arrows slicing through the air and the clang of steel on steel never ceased.
Avril leaned against the rough bark of a tree, gasping for breath. The clear, resolute eyes that had once burned with unwavering determination were now clouded with an almost insurmountable fatigue.
Her surface elf squad, under the drow's fierce assault and the interference of their treacherous spells, was being pushed back step by step, their defenses crumbling.
A sickly green acid arrow whizzed past her shoulder pauldron, its corrosive aura making her hair stand on end.
Relying on her battle instincts, honed through countless battles, she abruptly rolled sideways, her longbow instinctively returning fire to drive back the drow mage who had attempted to close the distance.
Yet the movement sent waves of intense weakness and emptiness through her body, nearly causing her to collapse.
If only...
Recalling everything she had endured, the elven girl gritted her teeth, a surge of bitter resentment rising in her heart.
Otherwise, how could this mere encirclement push me to such a desperate state!
As her emotions swirled, she turned and glanced back at the modest wooden cabin half-hidden by vines. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Captain Mela, I will... I will get you out."
As if drawing strength from this conviction, she straightened her spine, suppressing her fatigue. Her eyes sharpened once more as she nocked an arrow, continuing to rally her remaining troops in their near-desperate resistance.
"Concentrate your fire! Suppress the spellcasters on the left!"
However, the drow had clearly recognized her as the core and soul of this party.
In the next instant, a barrage of attacks descended upon her.
Poison-tipped crossbow bolts, twisted shadow tendrils, and scorching abyssal energy—like sharks sensing blood—converged on her.
Avril fought with all her might, her figure struggling like a butterfly in a storm. She narrowly dodged two entangling shadow tendrils and parried a crossbow bolt.
But just as her strength failed and before a new surge could rise, the swiftest, most venomous dark energy ray—like a viper striking—shot straight for her heart.
Its speed and cunning angle left her no chance to dodge.
Is this... the end?
The shadow of death descended, and a flicker of despair crossed Avril's eyes as she resignedly closed her eyes.
"Roland... I'm sorry..."
But the expected agony never came. Instead, a dull yet powerful collision echoed through the air.
Then, a steady, thunderous command boomed across the chaotic battlefield:
"Stop!"
"That voice..."
Avril's eyes snapped open in disbelief.
Before her stood a familiar figure she hadn't seen moments before, a towering presence that had materialized as if from nowhere, shielding her from the fatal strike and all dangers.
Just gazing at that silhouette, the grievances, fears, and the sudden surge of hope from this desperate escape all flooded her heart.
Her nose stung, her eyes welled up uncontrollably, and her voice trembled with emotion.
"Roland!"
Hearing her shaky call from behind, Roland didn't turn. He merely waved his sword slightly backward in a brief, clear gesture—a gesture of reassurance, and of "Leave it to me."
Then, he focused all his attention on the group of drow before him.
The dark elves were on high alert, intimidated by Roland's astonishing speed and his effortless parry of a fatal blow. They gripped their weapons tightly, their crimson eyes filled with caution and uncertainty, and a tense stalemate ensued.
Just as Roland was about to speak and explain the situation, a slight commotion arose within the drow party. A female drow stepped forward, her crimson eyes falling on Roland with a mix of surprise and recognition.
"Mr. Roland?"
Seeing the familiar face, Roland's heart lifted, and the tense atmosphere eased.
"Miss Viconia?"
The appearance of an acquaintance instantly shattered the sword-drawn tension. Roland concisely explained the situation to Viconia. Having received clear instructions from Elder Duralden long ago, Viconia didn't doubt Roland's words. Without hesitation, she nodded decisively and waved her hand, signaling her subordinates to lower their weapons.
"If it is your request, we will naturally comply."
Viconia bowed slightly and gestured toward another female drow beside her.
"I will leave her here and await your command."
With that, Viconia said no more. She turned and led her drow warriors away, melting into the shadows like flowing water as they rushed toward the next battlefield.
Seeing the deadly threat depart, the battered surface elves guarding the houses finally relaxed their tense nerves, nearly collapsing to the ground.
Only then did Roland turn his attention to Avril.
Just as he was about to ask a question, his eyes suddenly sharpened as he sensed something amiss.
Avril was completely enveloped in a dark, oversized cloak. The deep hood concealed most of her face, and even her hands were hidden beneath the dense black fabric, leaving only her exhausted but stubbornly defiant eyes visible.
This attire was a stark contrast to her usual sharp and spirited image.
But what truly alarmed Roland was the state of her aura.
In his Shadow Perception, Avril's aura presented a deeply contradictory state.
The outer layer still radiated the vast and majestic energy glow of a powerful transcendent, as if her power remained intact.
But her core was strangely weak and hollow, like a inflated bubble with a glossy surface but nothing inside, so fragile it seemed it would burst at the slightest touch.
Worse still, this already faint aura was visibly declining at an alarming rate.
Based on Roland's estimation, if this trend continued, the last embers of Avril's transcendent power would be extinguished before long, leaving her completely powerless and ordinary.
Noticing Roland's scrutinizing gaze, Avril instinctively pulled her oversized cloak tighter around herself, shrinking into it like a tightly wrapped zongzi.
Seeing her defensive posture, Roland hesitated no longer and spoke in a deep, concerned voice. "Avril, tell me—what happened?"
His voice carried an undeniable urgency and care.
Avril looked up, and in the shadow of her hood, her weary eyes flickered momentarily before settling into a bitter resignation. She shook her head slightly, her voice muffled by the fabric, carrying a gravelly texture.
"It was Tula."
Only then did Roland pinpoint the source of the faint sense of unfamiliarity he'd sensed earlier.
Avril's voice, once as clear and bright as silver bells, now sounded hoarse and low, carrying a weight of experience far beyond her years.
Roland frowned, about to press her about the change in her voice, but her next words sent a shock through him, momentarily silencing all his questions.
"Stealing divine blessings?" Roland's voice was filled with disbelief.
Even in the ancient texts he had studied, he had never encountered a method that directly stripped a deity of its blessings.
"Yes," Avril nodded gently.
She then recounted how Tula had imprisoned her, threatened her mentor's life, and finally forced her to "surrender" the portion of divine blessing from the Spider Queen Lolth within her.
"This is... absurd," Roland said, taking a deep breath to suppress the swirling thoughts in his mind. He asked in a low voice, "So, this Tula... what was his purpose in stealing these divine blessings?"
"I'm sorry, Roland," Avril's voice was tinged with exhaustion and helplessness. "He never revealed his true intentions to me..."
After a brief exchange confirmed that Avril had no more information about Tula, Roland turned to ask about her plans.
Avril glanced back at the simple wooden cabin half-hidden by vines, her voice low. "My mentor, Mela... she's been imprisoned for too long and is very weak. I must take her out of Eversong Forest first and find a safe place."
Roland nodded gently. "I need to rescue Galvis. Once I find him, I'll meet you as soon as possible."
With their plan settled, Roland turned to the female drow left by the Venconians, explained the situation, and pleaded with her to escort Avril and her group safely out of the combat zone.
The drow agreed without hesitation.
Soon, Avril and her followers, supporting the frail Captain Mela, quietly departed with the drow guide.
Roland silently escorted them for a distance, watching until they were safely led away by the drow without incident. Only then did he relax and prepare to leave.
Avril noticed his movement and called out a warning. "Roland, be careful. I don't know Tula's true intentions, but his power... it's unfathomable."
Roland gave her a knowing look and nodded solemnly.
Without another word, the two parted ways in the dim forest.
As their figures once again merged with the shadows of the environment, moving swiftly along the faint pull of the [ Red String of Fate ], the information Avril had revealed resurfaced in his mind.
"Stealing the divine favor... What exactly is Tula trying to achieve?"
"Could it be... he's delusional enough to try and seize the throne of the gods, to forge a divine persona with his mortal body?"
This thought sent a chill down Roland's spine.
What made him even more wary was that if Tula possessed such terrifying power and ambition, why had he remained hidden while his territory was on the verge of complete collapse?
His gaze swept over the surface elf settlements in the distance, which were being pushed back under the Drow offensive, smoke rising from scattered fires. Roland shook his head slightly, forcibly suppressing the doubts churning in his heart.
"Now is not the time for speculation. The priority is to find Galvis."
With this resolve, he focused his mind, pushed his speed to the limit, and surged forward, following the source of the [ Red String of Fate ].
In the dim secret chamber, Galvis panted heavily.
His once vibrant young face was now deeply furrowed, like parched earth.
His once lustrous hair had become dry and gray, like withered reeds.
Curled on the floor, bathed in the chamber's faint light, he gripped a goose quill with trembling hands and struggled to write on the paper.
The lines were crooked and shaky, the script far from its former fluidity and elegance.
Finally, he wrote the last symbol and, with excruciating slowness, turned the notebook to the title page.
Staring at the blank page, Galvis whispered, his voice raspy and barely recognizable.
"What should I call it... The Hero-King Roland? No... too ordinary..."
"The Roland Saga? Not... not quite right... He... he wasn't some distant legend..."
As his thoughts drifted, the bard's gaze fell upon the smudged and corrected marks, his mind drifting back to the brief but profound time he had spent traveling with Roland.
Those perilous journeys, that steady figure who always remained composed, that... ...light of humanity that never extinguished, even in the face of despair.
Suddenly, a faint, understanding glimmer flashed in his clouded eyes.
"That's right... he... his strength... comes from his will..."
With this realization, Galvis gathered his last reserves of qi force, gripped the pen, and over the chaotic scribbles, he began to write a title, slowly yet with unwavering resolve:
Mortal Hero: Roland's Epic
Having completed this, he seemed to have fulfilled his final wish, a near-liberated peace settling upon his face.
Taking a deep breath, Galvis trembling turned to the end of his notes. Beneath the freshly written words detailing his final adventure, he signed his name:
Galvis.
The pen slipped from his withered fingers, landing with a soft clatter on the floor.
Then came a shallow, fading breath.
(End of the Chapter)
---------------------------
📖 You are reading [248] Chapters behind with [94] Free Chapters available on site.
🔥 Read up to Chapter [656] now, only on ᴄɪɴᴅᴇʀᴛʟ.ᴄᴏᴍ.
📚 Read upto [14,000+] Chapters on Site with [10,900+] Free Chapters!
---------------------------