This night was sleepless for many.
When the earth-shaking roar echoed from the distance, breaking the silence of the night, many people panicked. They didn't even bother to dress properly before rushing out of their houses,anxiously looking around to see what was happening. Then they saw the endless river of light floating in the sky.
For a moment, the entire area outside Twilight Forest fell into chaos.
Ordinary people had no idea what it was, but anyone could see the abnormality. They immediately turned around, ran back to their homes, and pulled their loved ones to try to move to a safe place. The deafening roar that followed, along with the trembling ground, sent people scattering in terror. They didn't even have time to grab their belongings—they just turned and fled, though they didn't know where to go.
The nobles weren't faring much better. While they were far more knowledgeable than ordinary people, this only made them more terrified. Even if they didn't know what kind of spell it was, the scale and size were enough to tell them it was a massive peak-level spell.
It was a once-in-a-century spectacle, but nobles would rather wait a thousand years than experience it once. Unlike the ordinary people's inexplicable panic, these nobles were educated—they understood what it meant.
Everyone knew that mana was the source of all life in this world. Where there was more mana, life thrived; where there was less, it was mostly deserts or Gobi. But magic and magitech also required mana, though it seemed little. With mana being scarce, it would cause destructive effects on other regions. So those who needed large amounts of mana—machines and mages—were mostly concentrated around the mana wellspring, where mana could be drawn infinitely.
Now, a peak-level spell was suddenly cast here. Many nobles didn't first wonder if there were mages powerful enough to cast such magic—they immediately felt bad. Such a powerful spell must consume a lot of mana, and since there was no wellspring here, would the area be completely destroyed?
That was what nobles truly cared about. After all, regions with thin mana were uninhabitable—water sources would dry up, crops couldn't be grown, people would suffer from incurable diseases, and livestock would die one by one, turning the land into a death zone.
So first, the nobles didn't think of fleeing—they immediately sent people to observe the surroundings. They checked if wells still had water, if trees were still alive. After all, the impact of such a powerful magic would be obvious. If there was evidence that the area's mana was about to dry up, they would have to leave immediately to find new homes.
But fortunately, everything seemed normal. Even the reports from those who dared to approach Twilight Forest didn't mention a large number of dead trees. Many nobles breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that despite the unknown, mana hadn't dried up—otherwise, as the center, Twilight Forest would have been the most affected. But now, everything seemed normal?
Normal was good.
Humans are like this—if there's no immediate danger, they don't care about future crises. Just like if all observatories in the world said a meteor would destroy Earth in 150 years, people wouldn't panic—after all, they wouldn't live that long.
So after temporarily calming down, the nobles' innate curiosity resurfaced. They immediately sent people to investigate what had happened. But deep down, many had a bad feeling. After all, the nobles knew that when Wester V personally led the army, some nobles who were already at odds with the king were afraid of being retaliated against, so they had sent people to track the army. They were well aware that the area where the peak magic was cast was not far from the king's army. Could it be…
At the thought, the nobles couldn't help but shiver. Could it be…
Duke Barron stood by the window, his face gloomy and helpless, staring outside. It was already dawn, but he hadn't slept a wink all night. After being stripped of his command, he was placed under house arrest in an inn in the city by Wester V, so he couldn't stay with the army. Even so, Barron still felt nervous and uneasy. He didn't believe Celt's words, and didn't think the king would do anything to him, but an inexplicable sense of anxiety kept spreading in his heart. It even gradually turned into an unknown fear, making Barron feel suffocated.
What exactly happened outside?
Barron wanted to know, just like everyone else. He had seen the dazzling flash, the deafening roar, the violent shaking of the earth, and even the wooden inn he was in was swaying. But Barron remained calm, his hands behind his back, staring calmly at the blurred shadow outside the window.
He wanted to send someone to check, but he had no power—Wester V was small-minded, even if he was wise. The guards watching Barron were his personal guards, so Barron couldn't mobilize them. Of course, with his strength, he could escape, but that would be a naked betrayal.
Just as Barron sighed helplessly, the door was suddenly pushed open with a messy clatter of footsteps.
"Duke Barron! Duke Barron!!"
The guards who had been watching Barron stumbled in, their faces pale and distorted, their panic ruining any military bearing they should have. Barron was surprised—these weren't recruits, but experienced elites, who rarely reacted so much. But now, they looked like toddlers, their faces turning blue.
"What happened? Calm down! Pull yourself together—you're soldiers of Wester!"
"It's all gone! It's all over! We're finished! We're done! Everything's gone!"
Even as Barron shouted, the soldiers didn't seem to regain their composure. They were dazed, not even knowing what they were saying.
"Sir, let's go! Please, sir, let us leave! We have to go!"
"What happened? Speak!"
Barron grabbed one of the soldiers who collapsed at his feet, shouting again. This time, the soldier finally calmed down a bit. He sobbed, wiped his tears, and grabbed Barron's hand.
"Sir, go see for yourself! Go see!"
Despite being shocked by the soldiers' bizarre changes, Barron didn't waste time. He followed the soldier out of the inn. The street was already crowded with people, huddled together, whispering. But Barron had no mood to look—he pushed the civilians aside roughly and hurried out of the city gate.
Then Barron froze in shock.
In front of him, not far away, the earth had completely changed. The black, piled-up soil contrasted sharply with the gray frozen ground under his feet. At first glance, it looked like a huge wound had suddenly been torn open on the earth's surface, revealing the black muscles inside.
But that wasn't the most important thing.
The most important thing was: where were the army?
Barron looked around. Where were the royal army? The thirty thousand royal elites—where were they?
At the thought, Barron shivered. He pushed the soldier leading the way aside and ran toward the blackened ground.
Where are they? Where are the royal army? Did there be a battle?
Barron followed the black scar deeper, his mind completely blank. On this black earth, he saw no signs of battle—no corpses, no discarded weapons, not even horses or flags. Everything seemed to have disappeared, turning into soft soil under his feet.
Just thinking about it made Barron feel nauseous. He even felt the soil under his feet had a slippery, bloody texture.
"Is anyone there? Answer me!!"
Along the way, Barron shouted, but saw no one and heard nothing. His heart sank to the bottom. Though he didn't know what happened, he knew he was about to find out.
At the entrance of Twilight Forest, the peace of the past had returned. Duke Barron stumbled there, and finally saw what he had been hoping to see. But at that moment, Barron wished he had never seen it.
On this charred earth, there was a flat piece of land. Unlike the surrounding mounds, this land was smooth and hard. On it, Barron clearly saw thousands of human figures.
They were thousands of black, human-shaped statues.
Some sat, some lay down, some ran backward, some stretched their arms forward. They looked like statues made of gray dust, but to Barron, they were far more cruel.
He slowed down, walked to the gray figures, and reached out to touch these once-living beings. But the moment his fingers touched them, the fragile figures collapsed, turning into a cloud of dust and disappearing into the earth.
"This… this is…"
Barron was shocked to find his fingers and voice trembling. This shouldn't have happened to him. He was one of the three legion commanders, a general, a qualified commander—he should have kept his composure, never lost his temper. But now, his tolerance seemed to have reached its limit. He knew—he knew—there were thirty thousand troops here last night! Thirty thousand!
Barron slowly turned his head, took a deep breath, and looked toward the entrance of Twilight Forest. Then he widened his eyes in shock.
At the entrance of Twilight Forest, a strange carriage was slowly approaching. It looked like a wooden cage, but with a twist. A man in ragged armor, his hair disheveled, was locked inside, his hands and feet bound with chains, his face completely covered. Two old horses pulled the wooden cart at a leisurely pace. The man inside struggled desperately, twisting his body, trying to escape this damned cage, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free.
Although he couldn't see his face, when Barron saw the ragged armor, his body couldn't help but tremble.
Was that…
Barron didn't need to guess. Around the man's neck was a long white plank, on which his name was written in wild, flowing characters: "Respected and Great King of Wester, His Majesty Borkus."
The tone was respectful, the wording polite.
"Your Majesty!!"
Barron finally couldn't hold it back. He shouted, rushed forward, gritted his teeth, drew his sword, and hacked狠狠 at the wooden cage.
*Clink!*
But Barron didn't succeed. Just as his sword was about to touch the cage, a crisp collision sound rang out. His sword broke in two, and a powerful impact forced him backward. He had to retreat, and only then did he see a maid sitting in the front seat of the carriage, holding a short dagger, blocking his way.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"I am a general of the Kingdom of Wester."
Barron shouted, stepping forward again.
"Let him go at once—this is our king."
"I know that."
The maid retracted her dagger, tidied her clothes, and the various weapons hanging from her body, then turned around to look.
"Isn't it written clearly above?"
"You're treating the king like this…"
"What our master does with his spoils is his own business. And he's your king, but he has nothing to do with us."
The maid obviously didn't care about Barron's words. She answered leisurely, pulling the chain beside her.
*Woo!*
The collar on the chain pulled the king forward, and he crashed heavily into the railing, letting out a muffled roar. Seeing his sovereign treated like this, Barron gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and stared fiercely at the maid. But she didn't seem to feel any threat from his gaze.
"Looks like he's still alive."
The maid glanced at the king, then whipped the two old horses in front of her.
"Then let's continue. This task is heavy."
She turned to Barron, who was standing beside her.
"As for you, general, I hope you don't interfere with my work. Otherwise… I don't think you want to know the consequences."
"What do you want to do to the king?!"
Barron wanted to save the king immediately, but he didn't act rashly. He could feel that although the maid spoke calmly, a cold killing intent was locked firmly on him. As a high-ranking swordsman, Barron could sense how powerful this strength was—it far exceeded his own. He was certain that if he tried again, the dagger the maid was playing with would pierce his heart without a doubt.
"How?!"
Hearing the question, the maid tilted her head, as if recalling something, then answered.
"Well… first, pull him out and parade him around a few cities nearby. According to the master, this is a must-do… as for what happens next, that's up to the master. We servants don't have the right to ask."
She shrugged.
"So, I hope you don't get in the way of my work, general. The master said this isn't free viewing—it's for profit. After all, this is a valuable trophy. It would be a pity not to make money from it. I have to go to two cities today—that's a lot of work… so I'll take my leave now."