Chapter 106 – The Cold Wind Blows Through

Lin Wei caught Duan Yu.

In that moment, it felt as if a cold spear had pierced through his own chest, bringing with it a tearing and freezing pain. This was the effect of their soul connection, and he knew that the pain Duan Yu was enduring was a hundred times more intense than what he was feeling.

This sudden realization made him momentarily dazed, recalling the illusion in the Death Swamp where he had been pierced through the chest by Gungnir, an illusion induced by the Abel Vine’s pollen.

The similarity of the scenes amplified his fear, as if fate had been seized by a hand, and everything was unfolding according to a predetermined path.

Blood gushed out, not bright red, but a flowing dark gold.

His hand reached toward Duan Yu’s wound but hesitated to go further. That was where the heart was—the heart that had been pierced through by the “blessed” strike.

“Why are you injured? Aren’t you an element… You shouldn’t be able to get hurt.” His voice trembled as he wanted to shake the man’s shoulders, desperate for a reassuring answer.

Duan Yu shook his head.

Sandra desperately tried to turn her head to see what was happening on her back, but her massive body made it impossible. Through her soul connection with her master, she felt the overwhelming surge of emotions and let out a low, anxious, and sorrowful cry.

Lin Wei wanted to lay Duan Yu down, to let him lean against him, but Duan Yu shook his head again.

“It’s not over yet.” His pale lips, drained of color, kissed Lin Wei’s forehead.

The sunlight illuminated his silhouette, creating a beauty so breathtaking—it was as if he might vanish in the next moment.

Lin Wei looked over toward the scene, watching the Goddess of Light confront Adrishig, but the old man was gazing in their direction, giving Duan Yu a meaningful look.

The Mage nodded slightly at him and then squeezed Lin Wei’s hand. “Help me.”

“We will resurrect the Holy Spear.”

Lin Wei silently looked at him, as if by doing so, the image before him could be preserved forever.

Finally, he spoke. “Are you leaving me?”

“Sorry.” Blood spread across the white robe, almost merging with the golden runes embroidered on it, like a flower in full bloom.

Lin Wei took the Mage’s left hand and channeled his spiritual energy into the Space Ring.

What appeared between them was a crystal coffin, and within it lay the Golden Holy Spear, broken into three pieces.

“The power of the Holy Spear is his power, and the soul of the Holy Spear is his soul,” Adrishig had said.

Thus, his power should be returned, and his soul should be returned.

The lid of the coffin was pushed open, and the sacred, powerful energy began to emanate. The lingering beliefs of the deceased Mages, hovering in the air, finally found their harbor and sank into the body of the spear, causing its once-dull form to emit a faint glow.

Lin Wei enveloped Duan Yu’s soul with his own, protecting it from dissipating as it gradually left the body and entered the crystal coffin.

Originally, the body was the only resting place for a soul in this world, and no soul could exist without it.

But Lin Wei was a Spirit Channeler, and a Spirit Channeler who had studied the Book of Contracts and the Great Prophecy—these powers combined made the transfer of a soul possible.

As the soul entered, the two broken ends of the Holy Spear underwent an incredible transformation. They extended, stretched, and fused together, like two drops of mercury meeting.

Though the Mage’s gaze remained clear, Lin Wei knew that clarity would soon fade.

“Pick it up,” Duan Yu said. “Kill me.”

Lin Wei reached into the crystal coffin, his hand trembling, as a coldness spread through his entire body.

He tightly gripped the cool handle of the spear and lifted it—he had never held something so heavy before.

From behind came the old man’s voice: “But Your Holiness was not omniscient either. You thought ‘Kui Ling’ was inscribed in Kalaway City, but you didn’t know—”

In the north, where the cold wind howled, in the Valley of Metal.

The last drop of blood fell from the wrist of the white-robed Mage in the Magic Array, and five lights lit up across the continent.

But his body gradually turned transparent, its edges blurring, dissolving into stardust, carried away by the biting cold wind.

He took one last look from the sky at the winding path that led from the human world into the valley, sighed softly, and remembered the woman who had trekked here over a decade ago.

He closed his eyes, and his consciousness faded, entering the embrace of eternal life. No longer bound by appearance, identity, or strength, he became one with the scattered Magic Elements across the continent, merging with the many who had already passed, including the one he had missed all these years.

A similar sacrifice took place in the Floating Sky Capital, where the old gray-robed Mage emitted a light characteristic of burning, but unlike ordinary flames, the light contained complex Magic Runes, resonating with the five Elemental Valleys across the continent.

As his life faded, the runes gathered like falling meteors, descending upon the Goddess, binding her in place, preventing her from moving forward.

Adrishig continued his words: “But you didn’t know he had inscribed the most crucial Magic Array in his own body.”

Behind the Goddess, Longinus pierced through Duan Yu’s chest along the existing wound.

The blood finally found its destination, surging frantically toward the Golden Holy Spear.

An unprecedented light erupted, illuminating the sky in a dazzling brilliance.

Lin Wei looked at the light, even though it was so intense it burned his eyes.

It’s too bright, he thought dazedly. I can’t see him anymore.

He retracted the Holy Spear, the sensation of it sliding through flesh transmitted through the shaft to his hand.

The figure finally became visible, looking at him with a gentle gaze, his eyes red-rimmed.

Go there, don’t look anymore—be good, don’t cry.

The words were transmitted through their soul connection, and the man before him slowly closed his eyes.

His figure suddenly became illusory.

Lin Wei closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his expression was almost cold.

He stepped forward, picked up the man, and placed him in the crystal coffin, closing the lid.

The crystal blocked the elements, and the Mage’s body stopped becoming more illusory.

This man, he thought coldly, is truly without a single redeeming quality. He speaks little, shows no expression, and in the end, he broke his promise. The only thing worth looking at is his face—so stay in the coffin forever, and don’t even think about eternal life.

The black-robed Summoner stepped off the dragon’s back, walking in the void. The high-altitude wind blew fiercely through his hair, and the Holy Spear in his hand still dripped with fresh blood.

The Goddess looked down from above at Adrishig, who was now powerless. “It’s a pity this can only bind me for a moment.”

“But a moment is all that’s needed,” the Bard said, the corners of his lips curving slightly, his pale silver eyes calm and unruffled, with no trace of the previous disbelief or panic.

The Goddess’s brows furrowed slightly. “What are you laughing at?”

Before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by a pause.

She looked down and saw the golden tip of the spear, blazing with light, emerging from her chest.

First the tip, then the shaft, and finally the hilt.

When the end of the spear emerged, crimson blood spurted out, staining her divine robe.

The Goddess turned her head in disbelief, meeting a pair of violet eyes that coldly reflected her image.

—This was the last sight she would ever see.

Adrishig’s voice was almost a sigh. “I laugh because you thought that without Katanaphia, no one could manipulate souls as they pleased.”

The sun had fallen.

The wars, bloodshed, suffering, and struggles of that distant era, a thousand years ago, had finally come to an end.

Lin Wei watched as the light of Longinus gradually dimmed. He looked around and saw that only a dozen or so Mages remained in the sky. Some were silent, while others were crying—tears of both excitement and sorrow.

The crying slowly ceased, and a silent farewell ceremony began.

This battle had taken a heavy toll on the Magic World, but all the enemies had been defeated.

It would take many years for this world to recover from the loss of so many High Mages and Archmages.

The Elemental Storm that had swept across the continent had already begun, and surviving in a world with thinner Magic Elements would be more difficult than before—but the greatest threat and shadow had been lifted, and true freedom awaited them—the freedom they had learned to love from the Chronicles of Time, a freedom they had cherished for a thousand years.

Adrishig’s expression did not lighten in the slightest. He met Lin Wei’s gaze and gave a bitter smile.

“How much did you know?” Lin Wei’s tone was cold and interrogative. “Gungnir—did you really not know?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued, “Old man, and you—you gave us Gungnir and the Book of Contracts, made me learn the Great Prophecy—you had two plans from the very beginning, didn’t you? What did Daniel get from the old man, and what price did he pay—to bring the two of us there?”

Adrishig looked at him but ultimately only said, “…Sorry.”

Lin Wei turned and left without saying another word.

Sandra let out a long cry, circling downward and disappearing into a blue light.

This was the busiest summer the Empire had ever seen.

The residents of the Imperial Capital eagerly discussed the events of the year: His Majesty Gregory, who had just been crowned, sacrificed his life to quell the Elemental Storm, and His Majesty Bolan was crowned.

The coronation ceremony was so rushed that it couldn’t even be held formally, and His Majesty Bolan immediately took over all the Empire’s affairs. Heralds accompanied the army as they set out, and orders from the Empire were delivered one after another to all corners of the land. The “Three Days of Silence” had come to an end.

The Imperial Corps, local lords, and regional governors worked together to ensure that the people could migrate to the central part of the continent, under the protection of The Holy Kingdom, in the shortest time possible.

The Empire opened its long-accumulated treasury without reservation, and temporary towns and residences sprang up overnight. The speed at which gold coins were spent had never been faster. The Minister of Finance’s words, “Only war can consume so much wealth,” were proven true, for this was indeed a war—a war between humanity and the storm.

During this time, all political and commercial activities in the Empire ceased, and all efforts were focused on the crisis. With the Empire’s strong national power as a guarantee, the task was completed within a month—a quarter of the Empire’s land now housed its entire population.

What followed was a long period of adjustment. The Tidis and Lavis families, as the Emperor’s right and left hands, maintained order in the temporary settlements with their armies and skillfully managed resources, ensuring the people’s livelihoods as much as possible in the harsh conditions.

By winter, the Empire, now reduced to a quarter of its size, was running smoothly, and the Imperial Capital, which had suffered the least damage, regained its former prosperity. The social season began, and banquets and balls were frequently held in the castles. The Emperor, known for his warm and approachable demeanor, attended many of these events.

Outside the window, carved with vines and flowers, the cold wind carried scattered snowflakes, but inside the window was a warm and bright hall, the fireplace burning fiercely, illuminating the young and beautiful faces of the noble ladies.

A melodious tune echoed through the hall, and Miss Ferdinand, with her chestnut hair, tugged at her companion’s arm. “Look over there!”

Her companion followed her gaze. “You mean His Majesty? I saw His Majesty a few days ago. He’s truly charming, but he already has an Empress…”

“I’m not talking about His Majesty,” Miss Ferdinand said with a mysterious wink. “You’re from the south, so you wouldn’t know—look, who is that speaking with His Majesty?”

Her companion looked over and her eyes widened slightly. “Who is he?”

“Young Master Tidis, the eldest son of the Tidis family, the future Duke Tidis,” Miss Ferdinand whispered in her ear. “There are so many unmarried ladies in the Imperial Capital hoping to catch his eye.”

Her companion gazed at the man, half in shadow, and murmured, “His eyes, and the way he holds his glass—he’s truly captivating.”

Miss Ferdinand agreed. “Indeed, whether it’s his appearance or his demeanor, he’s flawless—and he’s not yet engaged!”

Her companion was delighted. “So, one of the ladies here might have the good fortune to become his wife?”

“It’s hard to say,” Miss Ferdinand said. “He hasn’t invited any lady to dance, and there are rumors that his heart belongs to a Mage—you must know, this young master lived in the Magic World for a time!”

“Then…”

“But that doesn’t matter,” Miss Ferdinand told her. “Father says our relationship with the Magic World is improving. The first trade has already begun, and the Magic World has sent a group of Mages to help the Empire maintain ‘The Holy Kingdom.’ Perhaps it won’t be long before The Contract is revised, so no one questions Young Master Tidis’s identity as a Mage.”

By the warm fireplace stood high-backed chairs and a delicate table, with crystal glasses half-filled with a pale red liquid.

Bolan raised his glass. “It’s mixed with a bit of Crimson Flower juice. It’s said to have a slight hallucinogenic effect, making people feel very happy—it’s all the rage in the Imperial Capital these days.”

He watched as the young black-haired noble across from him picked up the glass, tilted his head back, and swallowed the liquid, his expression unchanging.

“I don’t feel anything,” Lin Wei said softly, shaking his head.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who didn’t react at all,” Bolan said with a smile in his eyes.

Lin Wei gave a faint smile, so slight it was almost imperceptible. Suddenly, a small long-necked crystal vial appeared in his hand, containing a pale green liquid. If one didn’t look closely, it might as well have been water. He opened the seal and poured a drop into Bolan’s glass. “Try this.”

Bolan took it and sipped.

After just one sip, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and only opened them after a long while, looking at Lin Wei. “Where did you get this—it’s like concentrated Crimson Flower juice, a thousand times stronger.”

Lin Wei added several drops to his own glass, swirled it lightly, and drank it, still showing no change in expression, as if nothing had happened. “Actually, it’s a thousand times diluted version of something else.”

“What could have such an effect?”

“Abel’s Heart,” Lin Wei said indifferently. “A fruit from the Magic World. When diluted to this extent, it has many effects, such as inducing hallucinations, relieving pain, and inducing sleep. But if it’s any stronger, it becomes a deadly poison.”

Bolan looked at the glass, as if he wanted to take another sip, but Lin Wei took it from his hand and replaced it with a new one.

“You can’t drink any more,” the black-haired noble said. “You’ll get addicted.”

Bolan’s glass was now empty, and he looked at Lin Wei with a somewhat helpless smile. “In the entire Imperial Capital, only you would dare treat me this way.”

“The Empire’s laws don’t apply to me for now,” Lin Wei said, sipping from his glass. “Besides, Your Majesty doesn’t seem to mind having a friend.”

Bolan poured himself another drink, and the two of them chatted in this corner like old friends.

“You should consider your marriage,” Bolan said as their crystal glasses clinked softly. Clearly, he had noticed the admiring glances the noble ladies were secretly casting at Lin Wei.

Lin Wei didn’t respond.

The ballroom was bustling with activity, but this corner suddenly fell into a brief silence.

“Never mind that,” Bolan said, looking toward the dance floor. “I heard you’ve been learning the harp for the past six months.”

“Yes,” Lin Wei replied. “I just finished my lessons yesterday.”

Before Bolan could speak, he continued, “I need to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“To a faraway place. I’ll leave tonight.”

Bolan didn’t try to stop him, only asked, “Is it a place you must go?”

Lin Wei nodded.

“Then I wish you all the best,” Bolan said. “When will you return?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Lin Wei said, the firelight casting shifting shadows on the side of his face. His expression was calm. “I might not come back.”

As the event drew to a close, the snow suddenly grew heavier.

A servant draped a black cloak over Lin Wei to protect him from the cold. He walked into the desolate garden, stepping onto the path through the rose garden, where the withered branches of winter roses were covered in a thin layer of snow. He stopped and looked up at the falling snowflakes, which gently touched his forehead.

Bolan watched this scene through the window and suddenly felt a sense of empty loneliness.

The next day, some residents of the Imperial Capital swore they had seen a black beast soaring into the sky on that snowy night, passing through The Holy Kingdom that protected their lives, heading north.