Chapter 349
Chapter 349
Chapter 349
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 349 – “Lan Qi’s Terrifying Call”
English Translation (Faithful & Context-Rich)
After an unknown amount of time spent fleeing, the blizzards of the Snowfield finally carried Anello to the northernmost city of the Snowfield Province — Bandera City.
The towering city walls were etched with ancient, weathered runes, blending seamlessly with the snow-covered wilderness. Nearby cavalry patrols scanned their surroundings with hawk-like eyes, missing no detail.
Anello pushed forward through the snow, the storm nearly swallowing him whole. The sky was shrouded in gray, only the whirling snowflakes danced in the air.
As he drew closer to the city, the blizzard gradually weakened. The oppressive clouds seemed to retreat from Bandera City, allowing a faint shaft of warm sunlight to fall through a break in the clouds.
The light glimmered like a guide, gilding the edges of the ancient city walls with a golden hue.
Anello’s gaze was caught by this scene. His heartbeat slowly steadied, and the lingering terror within him was gradually replaced by a sense of safety and hope. The city’s protective barrier felt gentle and welcoming, like a harbor of paradise.
When he reached the gate, he no longer looked panicked. As the guards stopped him for inspection, he pulled out a distinctive Imperial military identification tag from beneath his clothes.
The moment the guards saw his credentials, they immediately saluted and respectfully let him pass.
The gate opened slowly, revealing the interior of Bandera City. From the elevated gatehouse, Anello could see the busy streets, bustling markets, and towering buildings — a city full of vitality, completely unlike the silent Snowfield.
He took a deep breath, feeling the suffocating weight in his chest lift. His heartbeat steadied as every cell in his body rejoiced for this moment of respite.
But he knew this was not the end — he had survived for now, but a more important task still awaited him.
The citizens of the city had no idea what had just happened outside their walls. They carried on with their daily lives, laughing in ignorance.
If it weren’t for the fact that High Priest Loren was stationed so close to the Snowfield Province, Anello would have already chosen a few unlucky “sacrifices” from these livestock-like citizens to slaughter — just to present them as proof of guilt to the Cardinal Bishop of Ba’tian.
The closer they got to the city center, the more orderly and solemn the buildings became.
One of the most striking structures stood at the far end of Bandera Square — the Temple of the Order of Annihilation.
Its tall spires soared into the sky, every stone bearing the weight of history.
Anello allowed himself a faint smile when the temple came into view.
Upon entering, he immediately found the Great Deacon of Annihilation stationed there.
The deacon was visibly startled when he saw Anello, then quickly turned joyful.
“Lord Anello, your presence is an honor to the Snowfield Province’s branch of the Order of Annihilation.”
He bowed respectfully.
“Spare me the flattery. I need to see the Governor of Bandera City — immediately.”
Anello’s tone was cold and impatient.
The deacon, surprised by his directness, quickly realized something urgent must have happened. He nodded and gestured toward the temple exit.
“Of course. I will take you to the Governor’s Office.”
The temple’s interior gleamed with gold and white brilliance, but Anello paid it no mind. He followed the deacon down a long corridor and out into the open streets again.
Bandera’s roads were paved with white stone, lined with trees and flowerbeds that somehow thrived even under the province’s frequent snowstorms.
Pedestrians stepped aside as soon as they saw Anello and the deacon pass by.
Anello barely cared for the Snowfield Province citizens. To him, this was a neglected province, practically abandoned during wartime. If not for its distance from the Northern Frontier Province and proximity to the Box Mountain Province, it would have long been wiped out.
The province itself was a mess, riddled with stubborn nobles, and the capital Helrom had been slow to appoint a new governor.
But recently, a newly appointed and strong-handed governor had taken office. Bandera City had even built a new Governor’s Mansion for him in advance, and the city’s former ruler — Viscount Blake Bone — had been imprisoned for treason, awaiting trial in Helrom. The city was now governed by the new governor and several other local lords, turning Bandera into the de facto administrative center of the province.
Soon, Anello and the deacon reached the other end of the city, where a grand, newly constructed building stood — the Snowfield Provincial Governor’s Mansion. Their footsteps echoed on the stone road, carrying a sense of urgency.
They crossed a wide square and ascended the stairs to the mansion, where heroic statues of Imperial champions stood guard around the entrance, as though their spirits still watched over the Empire.
The deacon explained their purpose to the guards, who quickly allowed them inside and notified the officials within.
The massive doors opened, revealing a dazzlingly decorated hall. Luxurious tapestries depicting the various city emblems of the province lined the walls, illuminated by the soft glow of wall lamps.
Anello had not waited long before a middle-aged nobleman descended the wide staircase. He wore a dark brown noble’s coat and looked as if he had been busy with paperwork but had still made time to greet them.
Every guard in the hall saluted the man with deep respect.
“What business brings the Great Deacon to the Governor’s Mansion today?”
This was Viscount Levin Kingston, acting governor of the Snowfield Province. His calm and steady tone invited them inward while he spoke.
“It is not I who comes seeking you — it is our Lord Son of Annihilation who has urgent matters to discuss.”
The deacon introduced Anello succinctly and added, “Lord Anello, this is Viscount Levin Kingston, acting governor of the Snowfield Province. In the governor’s absence, he is authorized to handle all provincial affairs.”
“So it is the Son of Annihilation himself,” Levin said with a look of realization and respect.
“If you have any instructions, you may entrust them to me.”
Anello nodded faintly.
“Viscount Kingston, I need immediate access to the Snowfield Province communication terminal to contact the Northern Front and the capital, Helrom.”
His tone was sharp and emotionless.
“The terminals are currently under military control,” Levin replied, slightly startled but quickly nodding in acknowledgment.
“I have clearance.”
Anello’s icy gaze silenced him.
“Very well. We will make the necessary arrangements immediately. But what has happened that is so urgent you must contact the capital and the front lines personally?”
Levin led them deeper into the mansion as he spoke, his tone now more cautious.
A flicker of wariness crossed Anello’s eyes but quickly faded back into cold detachment.
Levin was a shrewd man — his concern for the safety of the province was natural. Besides, Anello’s mission was to spread the word as widely as possible: High Priest Loren had entered Imperial territory.
“High Priest Loren of the Southern Continent has arrived. I must inform the Imperial high command at once. The rest can wait until after the transmission.”
“Loren? Truly?”
Levin’s brows shot up in shock, but he said no more, only quickening his pace with a solemn expression.
They soon reached the third floor, where the governor’s offices and council rooms were located. The carpeted hallway bore golden crests of the province, and the chandelier light turned the corridor bright as day.
Levin stopped before a large oak door, pushed it open, and revealed a finely furnished office, its shelves lined with books and archival records.
At the center of the room sat a neatly arranged desk, on which rested several precious magitek devices — including the province’s communication terminal.
Levin gestured toward it. “Lord Son of Annihilation, please.”
Anello nodded coldly, then looked meaningfully at Levin and the deacon.
Understanding his intent, they both bowed and closed the door behind them, leaving him alone.
For the first time, Anello allowed his body to relax slightly.
The air carried a faint scent of sandalwood, and the warm light from the lamps gave the room a sense of order and security — exactly what Anello needed after his long flight.
He stepped to the terminal, inserted the encrypted military communication program, and initiated the transmission.
As the signal connected, his heartbeat quickened once again.
Delivering this message — enough to shake the entire Protos Empire — would earn him unparalleled trust and prestige.
The receiver emitted a faint hum, signaling a successful connection.
At last, his mission was about to be completed. All the pressure, all the darkness that had pursued him, seemed to melt away in the sunlight of this moment.
And then —
A calm, almost gentle voice came through the receiver.
“Hello.”
Anello froze.
The voice was not that of a Helrom Defense Ministry officer.
Worse still, he had heard this exact voice — very recently.
A shiver like an electric current shot down his spine, and his hand trembled as though he had been struck by lightning.