The sky seemed draped in a heavy black curtain, so dark and oppressive that it was almost suffocating.
The stagnant, sinister atmosphere made it clear that this was no sunrise. Dusk was slowly drawing its veil over the world.
A flock of pitch-black, strange birds plunged down like a streak of shadow, diving straight into the blazing firelight within the village.
A man in silver armor walked along the road, his bearing regal and divine, as if he were both Lord and god. Anyone who saw him could not help lowering their head.
"He looks so impressive. Aren't we still at war? If this were the Consecrated Snowfield, he wouldn't get far before running into Leyndell's patrols."
Trina looked at Moonrithyll walking ahead and whispered to Nolan, who lagged behind yet somehow seemed like the center of the world.
"That's because you've mixed up the roles. The Haligtree Army had no allies, so Leyndell could beat them down as they pleased. The Hornsent don't even have a proper standing army. How could they compare to Leyndell? And the Piercing Army may not be weaker than the Haligtree Army."
Nolan answered quietly.
Because of past rebellion and infighting, the number of soldiers under Messmer had fallen sharply, far below the scale of the forces held by other lords.
But this legion had originally been an elite force assembled by Marika to slaughter the Hornsent. Even after suffering such a decline, it still retained considerable fighting strength.
They were on a broad road in the central-eastern Land of Shadow. Gloomy sunlight filtered through the dense leaves, scattering mottled patches of light and shade.
This world truly felt as though it had been frozen in place.
Early the morning after that night, Moonrithyll had arrived at the door right on time, keeping her promise to greet Nolan and Trina.
From the moment they stepped into Castle Ensis, they had been regarded as "half insiders" of the city.
Dressed in white clothing and white armor, the two of them stood out completely among the black-clad knights.
Compared with Nolan and Trina, Melina and Miquella had it much easier.
They had no particular need to be seen, and existing as spirits was more convenient for them.
One could even say that this way of existing was actually a good thing for Miquella.
His own fighting strength was relatively weak, and how to protect himself in dangerous situations had always been a lingering concern for him.
Last time, it was precisely because he lacked strength that Mohg found an opening, and he ended up dragging Nolan down with him.
Now, however, his identity as a spirit happened to make up for that flaw, allowing him to keep himself safe even in a dangerous environment.
Moonrithyll explained the general state of the Land of Shadow to them. Messmer's army was like the Royal Capital Army in the Lands Between, openly the strongest "lord" on this land.
Aside from Messmer, there were several other "lords" who could not be underestimated.
The most obvious were the Hornsent hiding in Enir-Ilim and Belurat, as well as those scattered throughout the Land of Shadow.
The others were the rot followers at the Church of the Bud in western Scadu Altus, the drakes of Jagged Peak in the southeast, and the Nox of the Cathedral of Manus Metyr in the northeast.
All of them were forces that could not be ignored.
Now that the Hornsent's main stronghold had been flattened by Nolan, the remaining scattered stragglers were nothing to fear.
As for the other factions, they had nothing to do with the mission Marika had given.
So as long as they behaved themselves and stayed quiet, Messmer, the good child who listened to his mother, would not go looking for trouble with them.
Only the drakes were an exception, because those things were the sort of troublemaking beasts that simply deserved a beating.
Those enormous creatures possessed intelligence, but not enough of it. They were cruel by nature, feeding on raw flesh and blood, and their habits were closer to beasts than anything else.
Relying on the protection of the powerful "Frenzied Dragon," those beasts were wildly arrogant, often spreading their wings and swooping down from the mountains.
When they had nothing to do, they would eat people to fill their bellies, and they would often set several houses on fire for sport.
The knights and soldiers who had spent years tempered by war lived with blades at their throats. They were naturally fierce and hot-blooded, and there was no way they would simply tolerate those flying monsters.
Over time, although the two sides had never formally gone to war, a rift had already formed between them. As the years piled up, the hatred between men and dragons only grew deeper.
Some hated them so much that they simply abandoned their humanity, going to the Great Dragon Communion Altar to find the priestess and join the ranks of the dragon slayers.
They would rather turn themselves into hideous magma wyrms than let those vile dragons go unpunished, determined to tear out their sinews and strip their hides to avenge the family and friends buried in dragons' maws.
"...Take the area we're in now, for example. Only a valley and a forest separate us from those reptiles that can only fly at low altitude."
"And because the Great Dragon Communion Altar happens to sit to the south, with an Ancient Dragon personally acting as the priestess and blocking the way, those beasts love coming out from here."
Moonrithyll took a small sip of the fine wine in her hand. In a place where one's life might be lost at any moment, wine was practically a harder currency than runes.
She did not keep such a rare luxury to herself. Instead, she turned around with a smile and handed another flask to Nolan and Trina.
Faced with the female knight's generous kindness, neither of them refused. They shared a flask, savoring the mellow fragrance of the wine.
Moonrithyll stood nearby and quietly watched the harmonious scene, but a complicated feeling rose in her heart.
She sighed softly, her gaze drifting almost imperceptibly toward Her Highness the Princess, who was still sleeping soundly not far away, as if nothing in the outside world had anything to do with her.
This princess truly had a big heart, to be able to sleep so sweetly at such a tense moment.
But at this rate, Caria's Lord Consort might really be lost.
Rellana was already enough to worry about. How was this little princess the same?
At that thought, Moonrithyll could not help shaking her head.
In the entire Carian Royal Family, perhaps only the Queen herself gave anyone peace of mind.
Just as Moonrithyll was sighing inwardly, someone suddenly shouted,
"Look over there, we're finally here! We've let those damned things live long enough. Now we can finally send them back to the Crucible of Life they keep dreaming about!"
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice. After passing through a desolate ruin, they had arrived at the edge of a steep cliff.
Moonrithyll pointed across the cliff, a hint of excitement on her face.
Nolan and Trina followed her gaze and saw, on the dry riverbed below, a village of moderate size split into two parts.
"Unexpectedly peaceful," Trina said, a little surprised. If Moonrithyll had not said anything, she would have thought it was just an ordinary village.
"See those large jars? You should have seen similar things in the dungeon of Tower Settlement, haven't you?"
Moonrithyll pointed at the large jars placed throughout the village.
Trina looked in the direction of Moonrithyll's finger. The jars came in all shapes and sizes. Some were exquisitely made, while others looked rough and crude.
Yet no matter how different they looked on the outside, every one of them gave off a chilling feeling.