Ch.403The Final Resistance: Myers Highlands (3)

Despite the sun being directly overhead, a chill swept through the air.

The wind seemed to take on a physical form, and soon an eerie aura of death began to seep out from somewhere.

Gray-black mists bubbled up like foam, gradually taking on human shapes. Simon chanted a spell, creating a hemispherical barrier to protect his party members from these messengers of death.

Saaaa….

How dense.

If an ordinary person were to step outside this barrier, they would instantly become paralyzed and turn into a host for the revenants.

-…Mission…-

“A mission, is it?”

Despite the passage of so much time, that voice came through with startling clarity.

Countless overlapping voices cried out for their mission.

It was pitiful and sorrowful, yet unwavering. Even after tens of thousands of years, they were still guarding this land.

Victor realized that their spirit, their will, and their resolve were still alive and breathing.

“What mission do you serve?”

As he asked, the specters answered.

-The people… weak and ignorant civilians… we must protect them… we swore and resolved to do so…-

“Since when?”

-Since we knelt beneath the Emperor’s throne… We are the Empire’s servants and blades… the Emperor’s hammer and fortress… His subjects must be protected by us…-

“The ancient Empire has fallen. The subjects you were meant to protect have departed according to heaven’s mandate. Knowing this, why do you still remain as sentinels in this land?”

-We made an oath… a bond that would never be broken…-

“Look around you. Your fortress has finally fallen…”

-We were not defeated!!!-

Suddenly, the thunderous voices of the specters filled the fortress.

Had Victor not been inside the barrier when he heard their roaring voices—comparable to thunder and lightning—even he would surely have staggered. It was a cold shout that would have made mortal souls flee in terror had they heard it.

-We did not fall even after 160 attacks!!! We held out until the final escape ship left the dock! Who dares call us defeated? Who dares brand us traitors and heretics? We remained as legends through our fight! Unconquered until the very end… Indomitable lords of the fortress! That is who we are!-

They cried out in anguish.

Honor bound them, and duty chained them. Unless those chains could be broken, even by a god, it would be impossible to send them to where they belonged.

“Army of specters, be at peace. Your sacrifice that saved 230 million lives remains an inspiration even after tens of thousands of years. I have come here to free your bound souls.”

Victor spoke thus as he stepped outside the barrier, drawing his Purifier sword and invoking divine power.

-Impossible…-

“It is possible. For I am the Lord of Fervor. I have come from the heavens to return the remnants of the old Empire to ash and dust, to unite humanity once more. The Sun has come. My blade shall fall not upon the pitiful common folk but upon the necks of tyrants. This is a promise to humanity, like that of the First Ascendant.”

As intense light poured from the sword, the spectral army slowly began to crumble. The time of rest had finally come for those who had carried a contract that should have been fulfilled at their deaths long ago.

“I know that not a single member of the 1173 Corps survived. Yet you still guard this land. This is no longer the fulfillment of duty, but merely the lingering resentment of the dead. In the name of the old Empire, by the authority of all humanity, and finally as the Creator of the world and Lord of Fervor, I command you: your dedication is at an end.”

-Ah…-

A deep sigh echoed hollowly. But Victor knew it contained not despair, but a glimmer of hope finally released.

Slowly, the figures dispersed. The grudges and resentments of the cursed dead were purified, and at last their spirits were saved from the ravages of war, ascending toward the heavens.

-Has the Empire fallen?-

“Yes. In the end, they could not prevail.”

-Then it is time for us to depart as well.-

Victor nodded.

In a remarkably normal and even tone, impossible to associate with a specter, the ghost wearing a marshal’s insignia spoke.

He had remained until the very end and fought to the last.

No enemy had ever driven his unit to defeat; his only defeat had been in the battle against himself. And now, it was time for him too to join his fallen subordinates in heaven.

-May the Empire be eternal.-

With those words, the marshal vanished, and finally only crumbling fortresses remained on the hillside.

Gradually, birdsong could be heard, and the dark aura lifted. Grasses began to sway and lie down in the wind, and sunlight once again illuminated the earth. The place that had been a fortress of specters for 51,204 years was finally purified, reduced to nothing more than collapsed ruins.

“Ah… it’s over.”

The dead must go to the world of the dead.

Isn’t it because of death that humans cherish their limited lives all the more? Even in modern times, with countless methods to achieve immortality, no one has invented a way to overcome death itself.

“Let’s head back now. Our work here is done.”

Victor raised his Purifier and said as he lightly sliced through a wall.

The same wall that had withstood his full-powered strikes just hours ago now cut like soft tofu with a casual slash—proof that the specters had been clinging to the fortress they had created.

The Iron Walker party mounted their horses and left the ruined fortress.

No longer would the mournful cries of specters be heard from that hill.

*

“Everywhere I go, it’s enlightenment this, ascension that. I feel like I’ve become a human purification machine.”

“Isn’t that right? Gods are meant to correct human mistakes.”

“But mistakes should have their limits. How am I supposed to fix a world that’s been utterly wrecked for 50,000 years?”

In the captain’s quarters of the Sky Warden, some rather crude language was being exchanged.

One might question whether such vulgar words should come from the mouth of one who would soon rise above the Emperor, but anyone who understood that these words described the Era of Eclipse would not take issue with it.

If you took a god who hadn’t even lived thirty years and asked him to purify resentments and grudges that had festered for 51,204 years, even a drunkard in the marketplace would claim it unconscionable and try to break the skull of anyone suggesting such a thing.

Victor’s achievements thus far were already worthy of historical record, and to demand more would be beyond human decency. Of course, he was no longer human, but he still retained human sensibilities.

He moistened his throat with apple brandy, appeased his bored palate with cheese on crackers, and then spoke.

“Still, I feel like things are gradually improving. How should I put it… After purifying 76 billion vengeful spirits before, this time was relatively easier.”

“I suppose so. They were all soldiers’ spirits, so apart from the numbers, there wasn’t much difference.”

“No, this one actually felt stronger.”

“Really?”

Simon’s wrinkles smoothed out at Victor’s claim that 1.5 million resolute spirits were stronger than 76 billion vengeful ones. Not being directly involved, Simon could only judge by numbers, and Victor had inadvertently pointed out this limitation.

“At the Mountain of Flowers, it was… how should I say… more diffuse? Faint? Like an incredibly strong wind blowing—overwhelming but not particularly dangerous. This time, it was like being surrounded on all sides… the chilling hostility of conversing with an enemy general in the middle of hostile territory.”

“…”

“Sorry, I can’t seem to find the perfect analogy. I’m not a professional exorcist.”

“No, it’s fine. That comparison is sufficient.”

Simply put, it was the difference between common soldiers and elite forces. There was a clear distinction even after death between those who reluctantly fought and became vengeful spirits and elite soldiers determined to hold the line even beyond death.

Since the circumstances were fundamentally different, a one-to-one comparison would be disrespectful to either side, but Victor couldn’t help but rate the spirit of the 1.5 million higher than that of the 76 billion.

For someone who would soon become the ruler of the world, such soldiers were precisely what he needed most.