Chapter 626: The Season is Autumn (15)
Chapter 626: The Season is Autumn (15)
A single rumor was burning through the Academy like wildfire.
The contents were hard to believe. The famous ‘Golden Fortress’ had been reduced to a pile of ash by a single assailant.
It was common knowledge that defending a castle was far more advantageous than sieging one. Even those who hadn't studied strategy would agree, provided they possessed even a shallow understanding of warfare.
Naturally, those who heard the news couldn't help but scoff.
No matter how much they thought about it, it made no sense.
What kind of place was Alphenhauser’s ‘Golden Fortress’?
It was a mystical stronghold, a labyrinth teeming with all manner of devices and traps. Even the lowest-ranking sentry on guard duty knew how to channel Aura, and it was a place where several Expert-level knights and high mages resided.
What if they used their spatial advantage to strike all at once?
Even a High Expert or an Archmage couldn't be guaranteed to make it out alive. Furthermore, there was no reason for such high-ranking figures to engage in such a reckless gamble. Thus, Alphenhauser’s ‘Golden Fortress’ was truly worthy of being called invincible.
At least, until this morning arrived.
Unable to withstand the cold dawn air, the ruins collapsed with a heavy thud. White ash drifted through the air, and only the black smoke rising like embers bore witness to the previous night’s tragedy.
The crowd, gathered like flecks of ash themselves, chose silence.
Only minutes ago, they had been doubting the truth of the rumors. But in the face of such undeniable evidence, what use was common sense?
There was only one word coloring their empty minds.
The fall of Alphenhauser.
It wasn't exactly a logical conclusion. After all, only one stronghold had fallen. Alphenhauser’s true power surely ran deeper and stronger than that.
Nevertheless, those who witnessed the carnage couldn't help but envision such a future. It was as if a revelation had descended from the heavens.
The sound of footsteps cut through the silence of the onlookers.
They were high-ranking officials of the Academy. The names of the celebrities arriving one after another began to ripple through the crowd.
Derek, the Skull Collector.
Adriana, the world’s strongest magic bullet user.
Delemore, the Guide of Falling Stars.
Every time a powerhouse whose name echoed across the continent appeared, the agitation within the crowd grew like a wave. Then, suddenly, a man emerged through the dim light of dawn.
“It’s Ian Percus…!”
Following that low gasp, a heavy silence pressed down on the area.
Perhaps it was because the expression of the man with black hair and golden eyes was so grim.
As the man, dressed in his Academy uniform, stepped forward, the crowd naturally parted for him. The burnt remains of Alphenhauser’s Golden Fortress were reflected in his solitary, sunken golden irises, and soon, his gaze shifted downward.
There, the groaning knights of Alphenhauser lay scattered.
“A-Aaagh…!”
“H-Help me… My body… My booooody…!”
Without a single exception, the wounded let out agonizing moans.
Ian stood silently for a moment, taking in the horrific sight, before he began to move again. No one stood in his way.
Even the guards controlling the scene were the same. Though they were strictly managing the onlookers, not a single hand was raised to stop the man.
No one harbored any complaints about this. Although he wore the Academy uniform, his status was incomparable to that of a mere student.
The Divinity of the Empire, the hero who had slain countless enemies of humanity.
The knight whom the bards called the ‘Morning Star’ was this very man.
It was only natural to give special treatment to a special existence. Everyone there knew this fact without needing to be told, and thus, those who saw him cross the cordon showed no signs of surprise.
A fierce-looking middle-aged man with reddish-brown hair was no exception.
“Ian.”
“Professor Derek.”
At Ian’s somewhat weary voice, the man called ‘Derek’ let out a deep, silent sigh. The heavy fatigue in his eyes spoke volumes about his mood.
Derek, the Skull Collector.
A renowned demonic beast hunter, he was a veteran swordsman who had crossed countless lines between life and death. Even a man like Derek seemed pained by the sight before him.
That was how horrific the scene was.
Dozens of knights were wailing. The sight of bodies writhing in agony was enough to inflict mental exhaustion on anyone watching.
What a truly wretched sight.
Ian soon averted his gaze from the carnage. His head was already throbbing painfully; there was no reason to complicate his thoughts further.
He simply voiced a brief question.
“What happened?”
It was a short question, but it contained everything he needed to know.
In truth, Ian knew nothing about this situation. A servant from Alphenhauser had rushed to find him at dawn, and he had come straight here after quickly getting dressed.
Derek began to lay out the desired information with refreshing directness.
“Alphenhauser’s Golden Fortress was attacked last night. Over seventy knights were slaughtered. Most couldn't even put up a proper fight. Even though several Experts and high mages were staying there…”
“The number of intruders?”
“Just one.”
A low sigh escaped Ian’s lips. His complicated state of mind was visible in the way he squeezed his eyes shut.
The assailant was likely a High Expert, or perhaps even someone stronger.
A powerhouse of that caliber wouldn't just appear out of nowhere. If there was a possibility, it would be the forces lurking in the shadows, those who had hidden their tracks for thousands of years.
The culprit was likely the ‘Dark Cult.’
It was just as he reached this unspoken conclusion.
“Aah, aaaaaaaaagh! Kuaaaak! It’s melting, it’s melting… M-My body… Uggh, kurururuk…!”
Crack.
A scream rang out, the man squeezing his lungs so hard his own body twisted unnaturally. Though foam was rising from his mouth, only dark terror resided in the eyes of the man letting out the shriek.
Beyond the edges of the bandages wrapped diagonally across his chest, melted flesh was momentarily visible. And then, there were the sparks of fire flickering to life.
Ian, who had momentarily halted his steps, narrowed his eyes.
“…Burns?”
“They say it won't heal even if dozens of priests pour divine power into it. As you know, the pain of a burn is beyond imagination… Some patients, like that one, are seeing hallucinations.”
Hearing Derek’s kind explanation, Ian’s eyes sank even deeper.
His gaze swept over every inch of the wailing man’s body. The developed muscles, the density of the mana released due to agitation, and various other factors.
The conclusion was reached quickly.
At least an Expert.
Ian’s confusion deepened.
“A swordsman of that level?”
“It could be the result of some forbidden sorcery. Or perhaps it’s the mental shock of being defeated without even being able to resist… Nothing has been clearly revealed yet.”
Swallowing a hum of contemplation, Ian began to walk again.
An ominous foreboding refused to leave him.
This sensation, as if something were tapping on his heart with skeletal fingers.
The members of the Dark Cult he had faced so far had all been formidable foes. Naturally, the enemy this time would not be easy either. Even so, had he ever felt this anxious before?
Why was that?
No matter how much he pondered, no answer came. Or perhaps, he was intentionally looking away.
Even as he thought this, Ian did not stop walking. He was overwhelmed by the feeling that if he stopped now, he would be forced to face something he wasn't ready for.
But that wish was soon thwarted.
By none other than Ian himself.
Ian’s face froze as he silently scanned the faces of the victims. His wide-eyed gaze screamed disbelief in place of his mouth.
Finally, a suffocating cry escaped him.
“Senior Luna…!”
Ian dashed forward and rushed to the side of the fallen woman, praying that his eyes were deceiving him.
Of course, that wish was not granted.
Fair skin like a blank sheet of paper, a pallid complexion, and silver hair that looked as if it were woven from melted pure silver.
Anyone could see it was ‘Senior Luna.’ Though she was only exhaling groans while drenched in cold sweat, and her closed eyelids showed no sign of opening, that fact was unmistakable.
It was a situation Ian found difficult to comprehend.
A direct descendant of Alphenhauser had been struck down?
He knew an incident had occurred, but Ian hadn't expected a problem of this magnitude. And why wouldn't he?
No matter how ignorant Ian was of power dynamics, he knew.
He knew what kind of repercussions the attack on a direct descendant of Alphenhauser at this point in time would bring.
Sienne and Luna had been dispatched as representatives of the Empire to investigate the relics related to the Seven Deadly Sins. Therefore, last night’s attack was not just a strike against Alphenhauser, but a challenge to the Imperial Household itself.
The problem was that the eyes of suspicion could turn anywhere.
The power of the relics of the Seven Deadly Sins was virtually infinite.
It wouldn't be strange if there were forces that wanted to monopolize them. In fact, the information that spies of the Dark Cult had infiltrated the inner circles of various nations was already an open secret.
What if the Holy Kingdom or the Southern United Kingdoms had conspired with the Dark Cult to attack Alphenhauser?
Ian’s back became drenched in cold sweat. This was a situation he could hardly handle.
At the very least, he needed to speak with people like Saintess Retona or the Princess. Just as he hurriedly stood up with that single-minded thought.
Ian’s body froze instantly. A faint trace of terror even appeared on his pale face.
“You’ve finally arrived, Sir Hand Axe Dummy-Dummy… I’m tired of waiting.”
Thump.
The tip of a blunt staff struck the ground. It was a sight completely different from the woman in Ian’s memory.
Sienne Alphenhauser.
A faint smile played on the face of the woman who had always been haughty and composed. It was just that the curve of her lips was so fierce and sharp that it triggered an instinctive wariness.
But even that was only a tiny part of the changes in Sienne.
First to catch the eye was her battered body.
She was dressed as usual, but she couldn't hide her unnatural movements. Her right sleeve was empty, the arm missing from below the shoulder, and her left leg merely dragged along, unable to move properly.
And what about her face?
Yellow pus was seeping from the bandages wrapped tightly around her right eye. Beside the white cloth covering nearly half her face, her silver pupil was burning like a flame.
Filled with hatred and a deep-seated grudge.
She was in a state where movement was impossible without a staff. Or rather, should he say it was a relief she could even use a staff, having been crippled in one arm and one leg?
It was a consideration that reeked of malice.
Ian could only think so with a stunned expression.
Nevertheless, the woman wore a twisted smile. Fierce and hot.
Because extreme rage can sometimes be indistinguishable from ecstasy.
“There is one fact I must tell you.”
That was the beginning.
The new season arrived in the form of a broken woman.
Whispering despair.
Autumn has ended.