Boom! The wall of ice, several meters thick and conjured by Ranni herself, shattered in an instant with a deafening roar. The gale tore the wooden planks of the bridge apart, sending debris raining down into the sea like a storm.
"This... is no ordinary Crucible Knight!"
Throne held his breath, his hands moving frantically as he channeled his magic. He fired a cyan cannonball toward the pier still obscured by flying ice shards.
"Haima Classroom Blast!"
Two violent surges of magic collided, obliterating the pier entirely. The force of the explosion pushed Torrent, already mid-air, forward with a sudden lurch. Plop.
The hooves landed firmly on the deck. Throne tugged the reins to turn the horse, raising his arm toward the churning coastline.
"Farewell!"
Splash—countless stones and shattered wood plunged into the sea. Soon, fish floated belly-up on the surface. The seawater surged back, washing away all traces of the pier.
Little remained to suggest a pier had ever existed here. Cold water droplets drummed against her armor with a dull thud. The Crucible Knight stood like an iron tower, her tree-shaped spear planted firmly in the ground. Clang.
The scars left by the Haima Classroom Burst faded as the seawater washed over them. She remained motionless, watching the small black speck on the horizon until it vanished completely. Only then did she turn.
"Cabine-Ivus, you've performed poorly. You even lost your weapon."
On the narrow road leading to the coast stood another Crucible Knight, holding only a shield.
He didn't argue, his voice flat.
"Lady Siluria, he's strong, and he has that Lunar Princess with him..."
Before he could finish, Siluria raised a hand to silence him. She gestured for him to come closer. The Crucible Knights, having lived for centuries, rarely spoke unless necessary.
Cabine-Ivus understood immediately. He reached into his breastplate and handed over an object—the other half of the fragment. Siluria took it, her palm open for a long moment as if she couldn't quite comprehend it.
"I'm sorry. He took the other half."
Cabine-Ivus confessed without hesitation.
"You know the cost of awakening our King without the complete set."
"I'm sorry, Lady Siluria." Siluria sighed, closing her palm. Blaming him was pointless, but that didn't mean she'd give up. Ordinary Crucible Knights didn't know where the King was, but Siluria understood. Marika was clever, and the Two Fingers were no fools.
Being tasked with this while the Order still existed made it nearly impossible.
"Judging by the direction he left, he's heading to Elphael. I'll report this to our King. His Majesty will be interested. You'll go as well. Ordovis is waiting for you."
Siluria's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
"Yes, I'll depart immediately."
Cabine-Ivus stepped back and vanished into the ice fog. Even without a boat, he'd scale the thousand-bladed cliffs to get it done. The splashing seawater finally stilled. Siluria inhaled the cold air. After so much planning, things had gone awry.
"Caria? How coincidental that they arrived just now."
She turned, her gaze locking onto the five Crucible Knights who had appeared out of nowhere. Clad in similar armor, their stalwart bodies leaned on swords or gripped spears, forming a line that radiated oppressive power. Siluria opened her mouth to speak but stopped. A limping figure had appeared on the cliff. Margit had caught up.
The ruined pier drew a sigh from him. Not only did he owe a favor now, but the Chief Knight had played him again. Then he saw them—six towering figures—and his breath caught in his throat.
"Your Highness, wait!"
The Nights Cavalry reined in behind him. Their horses stamped nervously as the riders froze at the sight below.
"Crucible Knights?"
His voice cracked.
"One could dominate a region, and here stand six?"
The men rubbed their eyes, certain they were hallucinating. These were the legendary sixteen who'd conquered The Lands Between without a single loss under their King's command. Yet the crushing weight in the air—like mountains collapsing and seas boiling—left no doubt.
"How?"
Morgott's cane creaked under his grip. The Crucible Knights had scattered after Godfrey's exile. Unless... unless the King had returned. Waves crashed against the shore, the stench of salt and rotting seaweed cutting through the icy mist. Both forces stood motionless until Siluria took the first step. The others followed.
Six warriors moved like a landslide. Morgott's knuckles whitened around his cane. His lungs burned with each shallow breath. No force in the realm could stop their advance. A single clash would slaughter him and every soldier at his back.
He forced himself to stand rigid as they passed. Siluria's group didn't spare him a glance. Their iron boots crunched through the gravel until—
"Wait."
The boots halted. Siluria tilted her head just enough to catch his profile.
"What is it?"
Backs still turned, Morgott's mind churned. He remembered the letter delivered by another Crucible Knight weeks prior and wrenched the question from his gut.
"Has he... returned?"
"Soon."
Siluria's voice carried no inflection.
"You're asking about the letter."
Morgott nodded. Hatred and longing twisted his words.
"Does he have more to say?"
Siluria closed her eyes. Three heartbeats passed before she spoke.
"Risking your neck proves you're not entirely worthless."
Her gaze locked onto the horizon.
"A regent is still a King. Do what must be done."
The knights marched forward in perfect unison. Their footsteps echoed like war drums before the mist swallowed them whole.
Morgott stood motionless, lips moving silently as he repeated Siluria's words. He whirled suddenly, taking in the shattered remains of The Shaded Castle. Understanding dawned in his golden eyes.
"Your Highness, they're gone."
Pellegrini's voice shook. He'd been holding his breath since the knights appeared.
"I know."
"Then their presence means—"
Morgott's glare cut him off.
"He and his knights answer to no one, least of all the Erdtree. Speculation is pointless, but change comes for The Lands Between."
He exhaled slowly, studying the leaden sky. The silence stretched like a drawn bowstring.
None dared imagine what came next. None could predict where fate would blow them. The curtain had risen, and Morgott felt like driftwood tossed in a storm—directionless, powerless.
"Your Highness, our orders?"
Pellegrini licked cracked lips, dragging them back to the present.
Morgott straightened. The Crucible Knights wanted no further contact. Whatever unfolded between them and Caria was beyond his control now. But the immediate question remained, and for the first time in decades, uncertainty flickered across his face.
What now?
Aside from the fact that there were too many 'surprises', his coming to The Shaded Castle to restore order was merely on the way. He had only intended to take a boat to the north, but now, even the pier was gone. It was too late. After taking such a long detour, he hadn't expected it all to be in vain. Moreover, the commotion at The Shaded Castle could not be concealed.
Once the Council of Six Houses received the news, they would transmit secret orders to the Golden Order Army, which had already passed Ordina, at the fastest possible speed. Many of the knights there had intricate connections with the nobility.
"After seizing the Haligtree Army, they want to find a way to contend with me?"
This annoying thought was very likely to become reality, but Margit was powerless to change it. He turned his head and looked south; the once-prosperous The Shaded Castle had been destroyed, and even the streets outside were ablaze. All prosperity would be reduced to ashes along with the crimes; only the bodies of slaves scattered everywhere were silently accusing.
In an instant, a flicker of shame and disgust flashed across Morgott's face. He suddenly remembered the words the Crucible Knight had left behind.
"Do what a 'King' should do?"
The Morgott was no fool; on the contrary, he was very intelligent. He clearly knew some things, but he had harbored illusions and valued the big picture, so he had been unwilling to act.
The flames before him seemed to have burned away his illusions. His concessions could not earn him understanding; there was only wave after wave of even fiercer betrayal. Touching the Frenzied Flame, creating ominous monsters—next, to protect his own life, would he even sacrifice Leyndell?
"This is what you forced me to do..."
Ruthlessness and determination flashed in his eyes.
Margit had realized it: in some matters, striking ruthlessly was more beneficial than just getting by.
"I will return to Leyndell first. You go tell Erickson to lead the army back to the city, then wait for final orders."
"Yes, Your Highness."
A hint of excitement showed on Pellegrini's face; he could see that Morgott's patience had run out.
The Morgott was never an indecisive person; he had simply often expected too much and been unwilling to expend his trump cards. However, he remembered one more thing.
"Then what about the Carians occupying Mt. Gelmir?"
"There is no time to worry about that. Things have reached this point; I must first break this last layer of shackles before I can face the challenges of the future."
Morgott knew that now was no longer the time to slowly maneuver with these nobles and try to preserve his strength. His eyes were filled with killing intent. Do you really think my blade is not sharp!?
The boundless sea surrounding The Lands Between was rough, with waves often reaching several meters in height. Even when sailing along the coastline, the thirty-meter-long sloop rocked unsteadily. Millicent had vomited straight away, leaning dizzyly against the wall, barely managing to prop herself up with her sword to keep watch over the coerced sailors. The sailors had no choice.
Millicent might get seasick, but the Clayman Ashes standing beside them did not. A few who tried to cause trouble were killed on the spot, and their bodies were thrown into the sea to feed the fish. In the cabin, Throne opened his eyes once again to look at the ceiling.
His injuries were severe, but not that severe, and combined with the potent regenerative power brought by the Devouring Serpent, he had already recovered a portion of his combat strength. But Melina would not allow him to get up, so he could only turn his head helplessly, watching the young girl kneeling beside him.
Melina held the slender-necked Flask of Wondrous Physick, adding the flask of crimson tears into it, while Ranni's projection stood to the side with her arms crossed, a look of disdain on her face.
"Why do you keep staring at the back of my head? It's making it impossible for me to concentrate."
Melina set the bottle down heavily.
"I just find you interesting. You clearly have no aptitude for being a Perfumer, yet you insist on acting so professional."
Here it comes, here it comes. It's time for Ranni to ask for trouble again. Princess, do you have a masochistic streak? Throne muttered in his heart, feeling the violently rocking ship, and drifting into sleepiness. Melina couldn't be bothered to pay her any mind.
While handing over the flask, she said: "You're pointing fingers from the side; are you very knowledgeable about pharmacology? Why don't you do it yourself?"
"I... it's just that Throne doesn't need it, so it would be a futile effort!"
"Don't tell me you don't know how?"
"Impudent! I have read extensively; how could I not know? All the records regarding perfumery in the Grand Library are there!"
"Then try it. I'll treat it as a learning experience."
"I said it already, Throne doesn't need it. This is a waste of time."
"We are on a boat; there is plenty of time. Hurry up and let me see what real potion blending is like."
Melina was unrelenting, leaving Ranni speechless for a moment. Of course, she had read many books on pharmacology, but she had never practiced it. There were no materials here for her to follow the books. Rolling her eyes, she shouted at the man on the wooden rack: "Throne, do you need to drink medicine?"
Very well, you actually want me to smooth things over. Throne thought for a moment. Just as Melina said, there was nothing to do on the boat, so it might be better to let the two of them build their relationship.
He closed his eyes and let out a heavy snore. Throne, how dare you force me into such humiliation! Ranni was so angry her eyes widened. Very well, before it was unintentional offense, but now you are actively forcing my hand, aren't you? But she had no chance to deal with Throne because Melina, who didn't quite understand human hearts, had already closed in on her.
She was already slightly taller than Ranni, and now she was pressed right up against her.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"I want to see what the omnipotent Lunar Princess has to teach me, or is it that you only know how to talk?"
"Nonsense! There is no knowledge in The Lands Between that I do not know."
Ranni said proudly and loudly, then her voice lowered slightly: "It is merely a lack of time to practice, but I certainly know how."
"Reading books without practicing? You just don't have the heart for it, and there is plenty of time."
Melina didn't know what it meant to give someone a way out.
"Who said I have plenty of time? I am very busy every day!"
Melina turned around and pointed at Throne, who was lying not far away: "He said so."
Looking at the 'sleeping' Throne, Ranni immediately clenched her fists, tempted to mount him and pummel him with four punches.
"How, how dare he tell this Melina everything! How can I maintain my dignity in front of her in the future!?"