Chapter 589: Salvation
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 589: Salvation
Elite cavalry galloped through the city streets.
Aside from the rhythmic thunder of hooves and the metallic rasp of scale armor, not a single stray sound could be heard.
Their path was unobstructed. Soon, the troop crossed the famous Great Bridge, passed through the renowned main thoroughfare, and reached the outskirts of the nation’s most iconic landmark.
Gunpowder smoke drifted through the air; the initial assault had already begun.
Two other units that had arrived earlier were already clashing before the palace gates. The battle had begun in earnest, a race against time. The thick glow of blood and the brilliant radiance of magic illuminated half the sky behind the Imperial Palace.
Suddenly, Muen pulled his reins, bringing his mount to a halt.
He turned his head, looking toward a specific direction.
Amidst this heavy atmosphere where blood and fire burned in unison, he had heard a sound through the chaos.
A familiar sound of crying.
"Count Eller!"
Muen called out to Eller, who was at the front of the formation.
"I am no strategist. I’ll leave the command of the assault to you."
"Young Master Muen... are you not coming with us?"
"I have other important matters to attend to."
Muen reached out and tossed his family crest to Count Eller.
"As for Celicia, just tell her the truth. She won't mind."
"But at a critical moment like this..."
A look of confusion crossed Eller’s square-jawed face.
He knew that this army—and indeed all the forces from the Royal Faction and House Campbell—existed solely to tear open a path for the Princess.
But advancing alone required immense courage.
At a time like this, if Young Master Muen, the person the Princess trusted and relied on most, was absent...
"Don't worry. This is Celicia we're talking about."
Muen’s gaze drifted into the distance. Amidst the swirling chaos, he seemed to accurately pinpoint a certain silver-haired figure. A faint smile touched his lips as he murmured, "She isn't the type to feel uneasy just because someone isn't by her side..."
"..."
Count Eller was momentarily stunned. Then, as if realizing something, he smiled. "I understand. I will deliver the message."
*
"Is that so? So that fellow ran off and won't be back for a while?"
Upon receiving the news from Count Eller, Celicia merely gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. Her cold, beautiful face remained unchanged.
It was as if she had expected this all along.
Even so, the people gathered around her couldn't help but shiver.
It might have been an illusion, but it felt as though the temperature in the room had suddenly plummeted.
"If he’s not coming, then he’s not coming. One less person won't change the outcome."
In the temporary command post, Celicia spread out a map of the Imperial Palace.
"What matters now is deciding where to launch the attack. The enemy is moving fast and will certainly be prepared. If we launch a reckless assault like the one just now, we will only be adding to the casualties in vain."
"What does Your Highness suggest?" asked Count Eller, who was already habitually analyzing the map.
"I believe..."
Celicia extended a slender, pale finger and pointed to a specific location.
"Here is good."
"The West Gate? But that isn't a main entrance. To be honest, it’s quite far from both His Majesty’s bedchamber and the Inner Council Hall. Even if we break through, the enemy will have plenty of time to react..."
Eller frowned. His superior military instincts told him that it was not a good position.
"It is indeed not a good position. However, there is one thing I believe you need to know, Count Eller."
"What is it?"
"It is that... while my brother may be the so-called First Prince, I suspect..."
Celicia looked up, gazing into the depths of the palace, her lips curling into a mocking sneer.
"He doesn't actually have a very detailed understanding of the palace's layout."
*
Muen dismounted and walked alone into a dim alleyway.
The crying grew more distinct.
"Uu... uu..."
It was a sorrowful sound, a whimpering like the wail of a ghost.
It was as ethereal as mist, drifting and indistinct, yet as long-drawn as a dirge for a departed soul, echoing throughout the entire district.
Muen flicked his fingers. Specks of light gathered, forming a brilliant radiance.
The darkness was driven back.
Muen looked up.
He finally saw the source of the crying once more.
A little girl, barely seven or eight years old, was still wearing those same tattered white clothes. Her long hair was disheveled, and through the messy strands, her cute, large eyes were visible—but they had no pupils, only a void of pure white.
She stood in mid-air, held aloft by countless blood-red threads.
Her slender, pale limbs poked out from her oversized robes, but they possessed none of the tenderness or beauty of a child. Instead, they were covered in hideous, terrifying stitch marks.
The blood-red threads emerged from those very scars, winding around the girl layer upon layer like the strings of a puppet.
"As I thought, you're using your cries to trigger the beast blood."
The little girl wasn't crying in a place like this just to wait for Muen; she had another purpose.
Muen followed the direction of the girl’s sightless white eyes. In the dark silhouettes of the city, scattered lights were flickering on. Even though it was the middle of the night, the entire Lower District seemed to be waking up to the sound of her crying.
But this awakening was no blessing.
They were not being gently roused; they were being startled awake by grief, blood, and fire.
Before the old scars could heal, they were being ripped open again, bringing even deeper agony to the people there.
"To pin down our forces, that person really will stop at nothing."
Muen sighed.
At this moment, a large number of people in the Lower District were also mobilizing. Though they didn't have much of a presence, there was actually a decent force in the Lower District that stood on Muen’s side.
That was the Guard Corps under the Lower District Magistrate.
Because of a conflict with a certain Great Noble, that Magistrate had always been a staunch member of the Royal Faction—or rather, a staunch supporter of the Campbells.
Muen would rather take the risk of summoning an emergency unit from outside Belland than use the Guard Corps, precisely because he knew this would happen again.
The enemy's moral floor had long since been buried as deep as the sewers of Belland.
"Of course, I also know that the Guard Corps alone can't fully handle those beast-transformed monsters. But... it's enough if they can hold out for a little while."
Muen walked forward slowly, gradually approaching the little girl. He turned his hands, drawing two pure white blades from his spatial magic device.
The cold wind blowing from the Gulain River tugged at the hem of his clothes.
"Teacher Mela said that as long as the source of the beast blood dies, the distributed blood will naturally lose its vitality. That’s why I’ve been waiting for you to show yourself. I knew you would."
The little girl finally seemed to notice Muen’s approach. She turned her head, her hollow eyes containing nothing.
Yet the arc of his blades, like crescent moons, reflected Muen’s equally sorrowful face.
Ever since he had used the Black Flame to devour a portion of the girl’s soul, Muen felt as if he could empathize with the pain deep within her spirit.
Extreme malice.
Extreme gore.
Extreme despair.
These were things an innocent little girl should never have had to bear.
"And so."
Black flames flickered as one of Muen’s pupils turned pitch-black, resembling a rotating solar corona.
"I have come to save you again."