Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 410 - 409: Night Sky

Nightfall has arrived.

Amidst the ruins of the destroyed village, a blazing bonfire was ignited, using charcoal gathered from the wreckage and wood found nearby as fuel. The warm flames dispelled the chill of the season’s night, and the bright firelight served as a safeguard against attacks from wolves.

Around the blazing bonfire, seventeen surviving villagers gathered together. They stretched their legs and limbs by the fire, warming their stiff joints and driving away the cold accumulated during their days in the cellar, while several fully armed Cecil Soldiers stood guard around the bonfire, using the flames to warm the bread and jerky they carried.

Wright completed the brief nighttime prayer, holding a piece of bread as he walked among the villagers. The villagers stirred for a moment, but after their daytime interactions, they realized this seemingly intimidating giant was actually the kindest and most approachable among the group of unfamiliar soldiers. They quickly settled down and made space for Wright by the fire.

"We’ll rest here for the night, warm up, and fill our bellies. Tomorrow we set out," Wright told the villagers, not minding whether they could understand him or paid attention to what he was saying, "We’ll head towards the southwest, where there is a Cecil frontline camp. Someone there can escort you safely to the south."

The survivors stared at the fire, at their hands and feet, or occasionally poked the flames in front of them with sticks. At first, no one responded to Wright, but after a few seconds, a woman spoke up: "You say you’re Cecil Clan... the ones fighting against Lord Leader?"

"It was your Leader who first started the war," Wright said, then shook his head, "But none of that matters anymore. Your Leader has been defeated, Duke Cecil will become the protector of the southern borders, and you will all become Cecil Clan in the future."

"It makes no difference, it’s all the same..." murmured a gray-haired man nearby, shaking his head, "We... sigh..."

The man’s lack of words left him with nothing but sighs. Wright was accustomed to the tongue-tied villagers and didn’t pay it much mind. He casually glanced around, then saw the little girl sleeping between the woman and the man—the one with bright eyes: "Are you her parents?"

"No, I’m her uncle," the man shook his head, "Her parents died last year, during the famine. I planned to raise Emily for a few years, then send her to the town’s church when she’s older. Who could have guessed... sigh."

Emily—the little girl’s name is Emily.

Wright silently memorized the name. He glanced at the little girl, who perhaps overheard the adults’ conversation, or maybe wasn’t sleeping soundly. She squinted open her eyes as Wright looked at her.

Her eyes shone brightly in the flickering firelight as she blinked for a moment and then remembered who the giant in front of her was. Boldly, she met Wright’s gaze, and shortly after, she grinned—what she was smiling about was anyone’s guess.

Her uncle nervously watched the reckless girl, afraid her actions might offend the Cecil Soldiers and cause trouble: "Emily, why are you laughing?"

The little girl continued to smile: "Big Uncle has a circle of light."

A circle of light?

Wright paused, quickly inspecting himself, and saw the surface of the Cecil-style Armor reflecting the flames: perhaps the little girl mistook the glint of the Armor for something magical.

The woman next to her immediately tensed upon hearing the little girl’s words and hurried to explain: "Sir, please don’t mind, this child’s mind has been a little off since birth..."

"It’s alright, it’s alright," Wright laughed disregarding it, then broke off a piece of his bread and handed it to Emily, "Here, eat this."

The woman quickly interjected: "She has already eaten..."

"Children get hungry easily, they should eat more," Wright waved his hand dismissively, "Our Leader said, children are the future of the land, no child should suffer."

This strange saying left everyone puzzled, as none of them had ever heard a Leader or Knight say such a peculiar thing, but some watching Wright’s actions were intrigued. A young man nearby asked, "...What kind of place is Cecil?"

"It’s an... unimaginable place," Wright thought for a moment, unsure of how to convey his impression of the Cecil Clan. After two years of missionary work on the southern borders, he realized his adjectives were somewhat lacking. "People don’t have to worry about survival, there’s no aristocratic oppression of the civilians, everything in the territory runs according to strict laws, and the enforcers of these laws are vetted officials..."

The people listened blankly. Many of Wright’s words and descriptions seemed hard for them to grasp, but they didn’t dare look away. Seeing this, Wright paused and, after a brief reflection, raised his hand and pointed to the people around him. "You can have your own land and house, and no one has the right to take it illegally. You can work in the factories, and the leader will pay you. You can go to the hospital to cure your sores, and there’s absolutely no one who’ll drive you out of your home. And you..."

Wright looked at the little girl with wide eyes and couldn’t help but smile. "Emily, you can go to school. There are lots of kids your age there, and you’ll make many friends."

"By the three goddesses of fertility, you sound just like the clergymen," an old woman exclaimed, "Isn’t that the place we go after we die?"

Wright was momentarily taken aback and then couldn’t help but laugh. Shaking his head, he began to explain patiently about everything within Cecil.

The dancing firelight shone warmly at close range, gradually cloaking the priest who had lost the Holy Light with a layer of bright and warm glow.

But amidst the jumping firelight, a dissonant shadow suddenly flickered at the edge of Wright’s vision.

On the outskirts of the village ruins, amidst the burned fences and huts, something flitted by.

The Soldiers guarding the bonfire had stopped their conversation at some unknown time. They cautiously laid their hands on the hilt of their ever-present Melting Sword, while a faint glow of magic symbol appeared at the seams of their vambrace.

A Soldier communicated a coded signal to Wright using military hand gestures specific to the army. Lowering his voice, Wright directed the villagers beside him, "Everyone, stay calm—move slowly toward the cellar."

Several Cecil soldiers stood up from beside the bonfire, stretching their bodies as they moved closer to Wright, while the bewildered villagers got up one by one—yet their movements were too large, too conspicuous.

There were faint "thump" sounds from the night sky, followed closely by the shrill whistle of something cutting through the air. An experienced Soldier quickly realized and shouted loudly, "Crossbows! We’re under attack!!"

The Forcefield Shield module was activated instantly, and each Cecil soldier’s vambrace unfurled a semi-transparent shield emitting a faint glow. In the night sky, small, inconspicuous silver points fell onto the translucent energy field screen with a clattering sound. The next second, the light of the Fireball Technique burst forth amidst the ruins, as a scorching fireball slammed heavily onto a Cecil soldier’s Forcefield Shield.

The explosion of the fireball illuminated the surroundings. The villagers around Wright fled in terror and panic-stricken screams erupted, plunging the scene into instant chaos. Amidst the sudden disorder, Cecil soldiers shouted loudly, "Civilians into the cellar! Everyone else find cover and prepare for battle!"

One by one, the attackers emerged from their hiding places, continuously firing crossbows at the Cecil soldiers wielding the barriers and the unarmed, panicked civilians. But due to the difficulty of aiming in the dark, many crossbow bolts flew wide of their mark. They then drew various weapons, shouting as they charged out from all sides.

With the flash from the earlier fireball explosion, Wright instantly discerned the appearance of those attackers—a ragged, seemingly refugee-like band of desperados, in truth donning armor and wielding weapons. Some even wore the surcoat of a Knight and short robes of Spellcasters. Their faces were smeared with dirt, clothes torn, and bloodshot eyes glowering a deep crimson. Charging out while emitting crazed yells, one could hardly imagine they once stood so proud and noble—

They were remnants of the Noble Coalition Army, defeated at Broken Stone Ridge, separated from their units in the pursuit, and turned outlaws in the wilderness.

Even among the frenzied outlaws, Wright spotted two Church Knights clad in church cloaks wielding Longswords, and a Holy Light cleric dressed in a tattered Cleric’s Robe!

Without hesitation, Wright activated the Forcefield Shield of the Magic Transmission Terminal, then drew the Melting Sword he had just been issued not long ago, moving to face those outlaw bandits.

In his mind, information he had heard recently surfaced—

After the Noble Coalition Army’s defeat, the Church Knights and Holy Light clerics mixed within the coalition likewise fled. Many of them were captured by the Cecil Clan in the ensuing fierce pursuit, while some lucky ones escaped the chase, straying from the main forces along the way. Some made their way northwest along wilderness paths, hiding and shaking within the church’s Southern Diocese cathedral—for Cecil’s Army, having just claimed the southern borders, had no time yet to bother that cathedral. Those who failed to cross the wilderness, lingering with other aristocratic Soldiers in the combat zones, turned into bandits.

Cecil’s Army continued to scour the southern borders, hunting down the fleeing aristocratic Soldier Remnants. Meanwhile, news of "Duke Cecil will reclaim the southern borders" spread across the region. Thus, these aristocratic Soldier Remnants wandering the wilderness dared not return to their domains—for their serf or Conscription Soldiers, return was possible as they were originally civilians. By discarding their weapons and donning ragged clothing, they could easily return home or hide within the countryside. But those Transcendent ones, especially those of status and rank... up until now, they have not ceased their activities within the wilderness, starving and desperate.