A Pawn of Little Consequence

The light revolving within the crystal pendant was gradually dimming.

A flicker of satisfaction crossed Canghai Guzhou's face. His furrowed brow relaxed as he raised his head to look at the others. "Our liaison lady has sent word. They entered the ruins from the southwest and have already clashed with one of Silverwood Spear's main forces." He stood tall, his dark-red silk outer robe giving off a soft sheen. Every scale of his armor had been polished bright, his belt was spotless, and the gemstone on the hilt of the sword hanging from it glittered.

Ever since becoming the branch's tactical analyst, he had heard countless stories about the country's three great tacticians. All-Seer KUN in particular—the Crown of Silverwood expedition team was the weakest link among the ten Major Guilds, yet under his leadership, it had rarely suffered defeat. People never tired of talking about his miraculous battlefield instincts, but Canghai Guzhou had long since grown sick of it. In his eyes, those people had only made their names because the times favored them.

Like everyone else, he respected Aethelria's first generation of pioneers, but he held their successors in utter contempt, calling them a generation of ignorant fools. Aethelria's barbaric age was over. The future would belong to Chosen Ones like him—those with both talent and solid theoretical knowledge.

As for those so-called "seniors" who chased fame and reputation, they were nothing more than a bunch of people living off past achievements.

When there were no heroes in the age, even children could become famous.

The forest was filled with ancient White Oaks. Legend said these old, dense, towering trees were where the souls of the Numenor Elves came to rest. Their luxuriant branches intertwined, and their trunks seemed to form ancient faces. Beneath their shadows grew patches of glowing pod mimosa and the clover flowers that lived alongside them.

The faint light illuminated many faces.

Everyone was dressed much like him, with a golden dragon spreading its wings embroidered upon their dark-red cloaks. They waited for him to continue. Then a voice abruptly cut in. "What about Silverwood Spear?"

It was as if Canghai Guzhou had been waiting for that question. "Things are proceeding smoothly on Silverwood Spear's side as well. Our inside source reported earlier that that 'Mr. Legend' had led his people into the ruins. Still, that 'Mr. Legend' has quite a keen nose. He seems completely unconcerned about the two main forces at Gorgon Riverbank." With that, he looked at the other man smugly.

Jory's face remained impassive as he argued his case. "Entering the ruins does not necessarily mean they went to Area A2. Our opponent is All-Seer KUN. I suggest we proceed with caution."

Canghai Guzhou frowned and cast an annoyed glance at the old-fashioned knight. The man was fairly old, around forty, gaunt in appearance but resolute in expression. His outer robe was frayed in many places and faded from washing. Three tassel ribbons—one gold and two silver—were embroidered over his left breast. They signified that he had participated in three famous battles since the founding of the Jefflitte Redcoats and earned merit in each. The gold one represented the renowned Battle of the Lions.

That ribbon alone was enough to drive Canghai Guzhou mad with envy. Looking at the knight's long, withered hands, he maliciously wondered whether the man could still hold a sword steady. After the age of thirty-five, a Chosen One's synchronization with Radiant Equipment declined sharply, while their reflexes and energy had already passed their peak. Most Chosen Ones chose to retire at that stage.

The guild had kept Jory because it valued an old hand's experience and steadiness, but Canghai Guzhou saw it as a restraint placed upon himself. He was deeply displeased, which was why he targeted the man at every turn.

"If he isn't going to Area A2, where else would he go? Don't forget, our cannon fodder is heading toward the 'Dragon Knight.' That 'Mr. Legend' doesn't know the truth of the situation. Unless there's another mole among us..." Canghai Guzhou fixed Jory with his eyes and raised his voice. "No one suspects an enemy that does not exist, and in theory, we do not exist. Isn't that right, Mr. Jory?"

Jory shook his head. "Only in theory. But that may not hold true for All-Seer KUN. If he does not take the bait, he could very well deduce our intentions. There are only three routes into the ruins. He could set an ambush along the unavoidable paths, or at least leave scouts behind. I have seen many such cases. For All-Seer KUN, there is no such thing as normal."

Canghai Guzhou chuckled. "You seem to know quite a bit about tactics. Why don't you take command?" Then he sneered maliciously, "I suppose it wasn't cowardice that earned you that gold ribbon in the Lion War? Or has your courage diminished along with your synchronization with Radiant Equipment?"

Most of those present changed expressions at his words. The irreversible decline in synchronization with Radiant Equipment was taboo among Chosen Ones, especially for veterans. Few people would so nakedly tear open another person's wound.

Jory trembled with rage, but he eventually calmed down. He turned around neither humbly nor arrogantly and wiped his hand across the tree trunk. The melting frost left his palm wet. "I am merely advising caution. I have not interfered with your command." He turned his palm outward toward the others. "The temperature will be lower tonight. That thing may appear as well. The situation inside the ruins will be extremely complicated."

"That thing will be helping us," Canghai Guzhou replied without concern. "Enough. I do not wish to waste words. Since you agree as well, we will proceed according to the original plan. Once we avoid Area A2, obtain the item, and withdraw in an orderly manner—if all goes well, that 'Mr. Legend' may not even have realized what happened by the time we return to the Holy Serpent."

Having seen what happened to Jory, no one objected.

Only Jory watched the young man talking so eloquently, then gently shook his head.

More people gradually emerged from the forest. They wore red cloaks and tricorne hats with white tail feathers tucked into them. They looked like Louis XIII's musketeers stepping out of a historical painting.

But these were the true Jefflitte Redcoats—

Fang Heng emerged from the forest with a dejected expression.

Quilod called out to him. "Well? Did you find her?" Fang Heng shook his head. "I asked everyone, but it was no use. She isn't nearby either, unless we expand the search."

"There's no time," Quilod had expected as much, but did not say so. "Silverwood Spear's reinforcements will arrive soon. We need to enter the ruins immediately."

"But what about Miss Miya?"

"Forget about her for now." Quilod handed his backpack back to him. "Ed, she's alone, which means she's a smaller target. Staying outside may actually be safer."

Fang Heng froze for a moment, then could only accept the reasoning and nod gently. He was not truly worried about Miya's safety—this was Aethelria, after all—but he suddenly felt empty inside.

He had thought this would be a rare opportunity to get a little closer to the girl he liked.

The remaining elven structure was a moon-white wall stretching through the woods, tall and upright, covered in wisteria and Virginia creeper leaves. Beneath the vines, exposed marble blocks were fine-textured and gray-white like pottery, their surfaces covered in cracks and weathered by time.

The members of the adventuring party passed beneath the wall one after another. The thick pine needles absorbed their footsteps, leaving no sound behind.

Only Fang Heng stopped and looked up. A thousand years of time seemed reflected upon the wall, as though an ancient echo lingered there.

Scarpe struck the back of his head with a chop. "Move!" Fang Heng could only hang his head and follow the others. Ahead, branches and vines sprawled like tangled claws and fangs, while aerial roots wove into nets beneath the collapsed section of wall.

The others climbed through the gap, which was roughly forty feet high. With Quilod's help, Fang Heng struggled his way up. Normally, such an achievement would have thrilled him for quite some time, but now he looked utterly listless.

Seeing his low spirits, Quilod patted his shoulder from behind and motioned for him to turn around. Fang Heng froze for a moment before he turned back, still panting.

The sight before him was beautiful.

From atop the wall, the forest stretched all the way to the horizon. The dense Sea of Trees joined together, shimmering like a sea of silver under the tranquil moonlight. The long night wind blew as a wall of purple clouds drifted slowly northward. A distinct ridge line marked the horizon, and moonlight flickered in and out behind the clouds.

Fang Heng parted his lips slightly and stared, his thoughts in turmoil.

This was the world he had dreamed of—

He unconsciously stepped forward, and the gloom in his heart vanished. But Scarpe quickly yanked the mad boy back and snapped, "What the hell are you doing? Do you want to die?"

Only then did Fang Heng realize he had nearly walked beneath the gap. Cold sweat broke out across his body, and he turned to Scarpe with a grateful look. The others burst into laughter. "This kid is one of us, Scarpe."

"He is, at least when it comes to being reckless," Scarpe said, shaking her head. "You're all lunatics."

"After all, no one who doesn't yearn for adventure would come to this world, Scarpe."

For once, Scarpe did not refute that answer. Her gaze softened as she looked at the distant forest and sea.

Fang Heng agreed wholeheartedly.

"What a shame Ed doesn't have Magic Adaptability," someone said again.

"Otherwise, he'd definitely become an incredible Combat Artificer!"

Everyone began chattering at once, paying no heed to Silverwood Spear. But joy turned to disaster when someone suddenly shouted, "Careful! People are coming from this side!" The group turned around and saw a small squad from Silverwood Spear appear beyond the northern arcade.

They must have advanced along the northern wall of the ruins and suddenly appeared there. They had clearly spotted Dawnstar's people first. The small squad of Gunslingers at the front raised their weapons and fired. Fang Heng saw two rows of muzzle flashes bloom in the darkness, smoke rising as lead bullets swept over them like a downpour.

Someone fell immediately. Quilod used his greatsword to clang away the bullets headed for Fang Heng while shouting, "Hold steady! Protect the Elementalists and Alchemists!"

Two Dailin Shieldguards carrying massive shields came running over with loud thuds, raising their shields in front of Fang Heng.

The shield faces rang with a chaotic clatter. Fang Heng hurried to reach for his Seventh Style Firearm, but Scarpe dashed over and pressed him down, covering her ears as she shouted, "Don't move around!"

Only then did Fang Heng realize how important he was to the mission, and obediently withdrew his hand.

He turned to look back and saw the long crystal in the Elementalist's hand glowing faintly nearby. Bullets rained down from the wall as archers, crossbowmen, and Gunslingers traded fire with Silverwood Spear under enemy fire. Stone chips flew, smoke billowed, and people fell from time to time.

With the advantage of high ground, the enemy's fire finally thinned out somewhat after a moment.

"Seventy feet!"

Quilod gave the order steadily. The greatsword in his hands was like a ribbon of silver, deflecting the lead bullets with a constant clanging.

The Shieldguard in front of the Elementalist shifted aside, and the latter immediately threw the crystal forward—the long crystal seemed to carry its own momentum, turning into a streak of light as it flew between the two sides. It burst with a bang thirty meters away, and the scattered aether magic formed a vast cloud of mist that blocked both sides' vision.

Both sides were experienced. The shooting stopped almost simultaneously.

A few isolated gunshots still sounded from the other side, but they too quickly fell silent—

Leaving only smoke and dust drifting through the night wind.

"Now, go!" Seeing this, Scarpe shoved Fang Heng from behind and stuffed something into his hand. Fang Heng looked down and found it was a Slow-Fall Construct—a common Magic Device. Its Attribute-less Crystal could be used three times after charging.

"Thanks, Miss Scarpe."

Without wasting words, he unfastened his huge backpack and threw it onto the ground, then put the metal box on his back. Reaching behind himself, he clicked the leather tube and pin on it into the Magic Furnace at his back. He walked briskly to the edge of the wall and glanced down. The wall was even higher on this side, a full fifteen meters.

Fang Heng had never parachuted before.

But he did not feel even the slightest fear. Without hesitation, he stepped forward. Scarpe was about to remind him of some precautions when she saw the guy jump before she could speak.

She had never seen such a daring newcomer before, and gritted her teeth in frustration. "This brat..."

Fang Heng heard only the howling wind. Then there was a soft click behind him, and his body suddenly felt lighter as his descent slowed sharply. He looked back and saw a glider wing spread from the rear of the metal box. The wing was light and thin, like spider silk—but he knew it was actually woven aether magic.

The Magic Furnace on his back was starting to heat up. The indicator on his glove spun like mad, and his magic power fell rapidly. That was the Attribute-less Crystal's greatest flaw—its mana storage was too low, and its output was far from sufficient.

Fortunately, the Slow-Fall Construct was only an ordinary Magic Device. He made it to the ground before the Magic Furnace overloaded.

He hurriedly closed the valve. With a hiss, steam from the coolant burst out, and the scorching gas nearly made him jerk his hand back. Only then did the Core Crystal's temperature begin to stabilize. Looking up, he saw that the other adventuring party members were descending as well, far more calmly than he had.

Scarpe was even carrying an injured man as she slid down through the dense aerial roots. She moved with effortless ease, reaching Fang Heng in a few leaps and casually tossing the huge backpack at him.

Fang Heng hurriedly caught it.

"Don't stop! Head deeper into the ruins!" Scarpe pointed in one direction, where an elven arcade overgrown with vegetation lay submerged beneath a great patch of red iron ferns. Fang Heng nodded and ducked into the thick forest.

A burst of crisp gunfire sounded behind him. He glanced back to see Silverwood Spear's people charging out of the mist, only to be driven back by a volley. Fang Heng did not dare linger. He pushed through the tall feathered fronds of the red iron ferns and rustled deeper into the ruins.

Only after Scarpe saw his figure disappear did she turn back and call for the others to carry away the injured man.

Beyond the dense forest lay a street preserved from ancient times—old, damaged buildings lined both sides, while the roots of towering trees intertwined with moon-white stones. The foliage was luxuriant, and countless aerial roots spread across the ground like a network of pipes, looking somewhat eerie beneath the cold moonlight.

The surroundings were mysterious and silent. Fallen stones lay everywhere, their patterns incomplete. No one knew how much time had passed since anyone last set foot here, leaving the stones covered in moss and spikemoss. Fang Heng scrambled through the ruins on hands and feet. The elven arcade remained to one side of him, and he used it to judge his direction.

A giant bird flapped away from the towering canopy with a harsh caw, startling him. He looked up and saw it was an enormous Taren White-necked Crow, making him curse under his breath.

Ahead was a deep ravine, its bottom filled with broken stones that looked like part of some temple rather than a natural formation. Fang Heng gave it only a glance and did not think much of it. He did not dare linger, walking along the ravine's edge until he found a "bridge" he could cross. It was actually the root of an ancient oak stretching across the chasm like an elven arch bridge.

Fang Heng looked around. The forest was silent both near and far. Several rats moved their plump bodies in the moonlight at the bottom of the ravine. The Taren White-necked Crow had vanished somewhere, leaving only thick tree shadows above him. Vegetation had completely swallowed the ruins; if not for the remaining elven structures, he might have thought he had returned to the forest outside.

Only then did he take off his backpack, pull out a coil of rope, and tie the backpack securely. Then he carefully climbed onto the ancient oak root with the rope and edged his way across. Once he reached the other side, he tugged the rope and hauled his backpack up from the ravine below.

Even that left him sweating profusely. Opening his backpack to inspect it, he found that a set of alchemical glassware had shattered, including an expensive crystal retort. Fang Heng's heart bled at the sight.

He picked out the broken glass and threw it away, then sat down to rest for a while. Just as he was wondering why the others had not caught up, a broad hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. Fang Heng nearly screamed. Turning around, he found the silent Quilod behind him, with Scarpe beside him. He had no idea when they had caught up.

The others were behind the pair, rustling through the ferns nearby as they emerged.

Fang Heng sighed in relief and asked, "How did it go?"

"Silverwood Spear's people didn't follow us," Quilod said, shaking his head.

"What now?" Fang Heng looked around. He had never imagined the ruins would be this large.

Scarpe turned and asked the others, "Did anyone see which direction the Holy Serpent's Gliding Boat crashed?"

"I saw it. Southeast. The Gliding Boat struck a broken tower over there," someone answered.

"I saw it too."

The others chimed in one after another.

Quilod looked toward the mist-shrouded direction. "I know where that is. It isn't far. We can't waste time. Once the Alchemist has rested enough, we move out."

"I'm fine. In fact, I've already rested for a while," Fang Heng replied. "But I have a question."

Quilod looked at him and motioned for him to speak.

Scarpe frowned as she thought it over, then said from the side, "Quilod, Silverwood Spear's appearance was very strange."

Quilod froze briefly, then nodded. "They did react rather quickly." He pondered for a moment, then asked, "So what are you worried about?"

Scarpe shook her head. "I just think there have been far too many accidents tonight."

"I think Silverwood Spear has some objective here," Fang Heng said after thinking for a moment and choosing his words. "Mr. Quilod, why didn't they chase us? I've been wondering since earlier—what exactly is inside these ruins?"