Chapter 15 : Chapter 15
Chapter 15: The Reason for the Fall
Great chunks of bear meat had been skewered on a cleaned iron sword and were sizzling over a hastily built bonfire, crackling with mouthwatering fat.
The little girl squatted beside Cyril, stretching out her hands to absorb the warmth of the flames. The cold had left her face pale, but now some color was finally returning to her cheeks.
“Look, I was getting roast meat for you. That’s why I came back late.”
Cyril wore a stern expression as he explained himself to Caroline.
It was true that he had completely forgotten about Caroline, who had obediently remained exactly where he told her to wait. By the time he went back for her, he found her collapsed beside a bush, asleep right there on the freezing snow.
She had not even noticed when a clump of snow fell from a branch above and nearly buried her.
At the moment, however, Cyril was not worried that Caroline would fall sick again. After all, she had only recently taken Moonreturn Dew. Right now, she could probably dive into the Kuo River and go for a winter swim without any trouble at all.
Cyril skillfully sprinkled on the seasoning and grilled the meat a while longer before slicing off a small piece with the sword, wrapping it in cloth, and handing it to Caroline. Watching this entire sequence of practiced movements made the four-ring mage sitting opposite them twitch at the corners of his eyes.
Since when had noble knights become so proficient in such savage and vulgar methods of eating?
Shouldn’t they be seated at ornate tables, enjoying delicate steaks with silver knives and forks?
And wasn’t this one an elf? Weren’t elves supposed to be nature’s favorites, living on morning dew and flower wine, and—damn it—even smelling sweet when they took a shit?
What in the world was this wild mercenary standing in front of him?
Yet just as he was mentally ranting at Cyril, the youth seemed to notice his stare and looked up, casting him a cold glance. Instantly, all the chaotic thoughts in his head were shoved right back down his throat.
After that, Cyril tore off another piece of cloth and began wiping down the longsword in his hand. Leisurely, he asked Moum:
“If I remember correctly, Mr. Morris, you said you were a four-ring mage?”
The class hierarchy in Road of Radiance was broadly the same across almost all professions. Nearly every class had to pass through Apprentice, then Trainee, then Apprentice-Class, and only after that could a person formally take that class.
For players, everything up to the Trainee stage was preparation for deciding whether or not to commit to that profession.
After graduating from Trainee, one still had a chance to switch career paths. But once one became an Apprentice-Class, that was it—one could only walk that road to the bitter end.
Naturally, the game would not generously refund all the levels one had already spent. Choosing the wrong Apprentice-Class meant falling behind others from the very beginning.
As for the “ring” Moum Morris referred to, that was the mages’ own internal ranking system. Spells were graded by ring, and a four-ring mage meant that the mage had mastered at least three four-ring spells.
A four-ring mage was not especially high-ranked, but at this early point in the game’s timeline, such a person was already far beyond the reach of beginners.
And that, precisely, was what made Cyril feel uneasy.
No matter how mediocre a mage might be, if he could cast four-ring spells, then his mana reserves should still be more than enough to erase an undead vanguard detachment like this one, a group that amounted to little more than trash mobs before a true master of magic.
Cyril had originally assumed that since the soldiers of the Northwind Tower had fought the undead to such a miserable standstill even with a mage assisting them, the mage in question must have been only an apprentice.
But he had never imagined that the one traveling with them would actually be a four-ring mage.
“Yes. By good fortune, I mastered three four-ring spells and was promoted to four-ring mage.” Moum smiled, clearly very pleased with himself.
“And may I ask, rather boldly, what branch of spells you specialize in—”
“Fire— fire spells are not suitable for me. I specialize in water magic.” Moum dragged out the first word strangely before pointing at Mia not far away, who was helping the soldiers process the rest of the Icehide Blue-Striped Bear. “This is my apprentice. She studies water magic under me. Her character is excellent, but as for her talent in magic, it really is somewhat...”
Cyril nodded with utter sincerity. “Yes. I can tell.”
“You know something of spellcraft as well, Sir Vey?” Moum asked.
“Just call me Aiver.” Cyril smiled. “I was fortunate enough to study a little before. It is a road utterly different from the knight’s path, and I admire it very much.”
That was honestly the truth. Shadow Arts, Lightbody Arts, Featherstep—what Rogue would not need spells like those for climbing roofs, sneaking around, and stealing chickens? As for knights, could those fools who only knew how to wave swords and shields while roaring possibly do any of that?
He exchanged a few more casual words with Moum, and only after Caroline finished eating did he get up and walk over to the soldiers and Mia, who had also finished their work.
The camp had basically been stripped bare. Not only had the tents been dismantled, even the fencing had been taken down. He casually grabbed hold of one of the soldiers—it was the swordsman named Lancer.
“I’m asking you,” Cyril said. “Why are you taking the fences with you too? Weren’t they only put up temporarily?”
Lancer answered stiffly, speaking to a knight who looked younger than himself. “They were improved fences brought by Miss Christian. We can’t leave them here.”
“Mr. Vey, these fences are engraved with the fire spell Scorch. They can block magical beasts to some extent...” Mia hurried over to explain.
Cyril understood at once. No wonder the undead had not attacked the camp from the sides earlier, and had chosen instead to press against the two frontal openings. Something like this clearly did not come cheap, but it had definitely proven its worth.
“You designed these? Very good.”
He picked up one of the fence stakes with great interest. Even in his palm, he could feel a faint residual heat.
Mia nodded and murmured a small thank-you, looking somewhat embarrassed.
“It’s early spring. The forest isn’t safe. Why did you come into the woods?”
Cyril asked the question casually, his eyes sweeping over the soldiers before him. They certainly had decent skill, but Cyril did not believe that they would count as first-rate troops within the Northwind Tower. To put it bluntly, they were no more than third-rate.
Frankly speaking, a group like this was not qualified to serve as escorts for two mages—especially when one of those mages was a four-ring mage.
“It was my teacher, Mr. Morris. He was giving me a small examination, to test how well I could apply my spells.”
“Testing spells, and that means coming into a dangerous forest?”
The more Cyril listened, the stranger it sounded. He turned to look toward the four-ring mage, only to find the man pacing anxiously around the camp, grabbing soldiers from time to time and berating them furiously.
Cyril drew in a deep breath.
As one of La Rochelle’s defensive pillars in the Northern Frontier, the Northwind Tower stood at the outer ring of the central region and projected its influence over the entire border. Its importance could not be overstated. One could say that the Northern Frontier with the Northwind Tower and the Northern Frontier without it were two completely different places—just as the history of the game had shown.
In September of Continental Calendar Year 1440, Lovisa and Alderney came under undead siege, yet did not fall.
In March of 1441, the Northwind Tower fell.
In May of that same year, Lovisa was breached, and three months later Alderney also fell.
By August of 1441, La Rochelle had formally lost control over the entire outer frontier and half of the Inner Ring.
No one understood the importance of the Northwind Tower better than La Rochelle itself. That was why its internal security measures were even stricter than those of the two fortress cities on the border. By the time players joined the northern battlefield in large numbers, the Northwind Tower had already fallen.
Naturally, many people had speculated about how exactly it had been taken. But all the theories lacked sufficient evidence and none could be regarded as definitive. Those who knew the truth had long since died in the war.
Perhaps written records existed, but no one had ever been able to see them.
Yet now, Cyril felt he had begun to glimpse the truth. It largely matched the players’ suspicions, but when that truth gradually emerged from the depths, it was even more chilling than their theories had been.
Without showing any sign, he adjusted the grip on the sword at his waist and quietly joined the group preparing to return to the Northwind Tower.
Not forgetting to hand one of the travel packs to Caroline.
“Eat a piece of meat, do a piece of work.”
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