Chapter 71 – Burning

Lin Wei knocked forcefully on the wall, producing a dull sound. There was indeed no room inside. They descended the stairs, where the runes on both sides grew increasingly dense. Finally, the path opened up, leading to a hall-like space.

The hall was vast, and the light from the crystal could only illuminate the area nearby. The first things to catch their eyes were two statue-like figures at the entrance. They were strikingly similar, and upon closer inspection, they appeared to be wearing knight-style helmets and armor, their arms crossed over their chests, each holding a longsword upside down, its tip resting on the ground.

The statues felt cold to the touch, made of metal. As they walked further, passing through an open area, the outline of a massive chair emerged—its size far exceeding that of the Emperor’s throne in the Empire.

As they approached, Lin Wei noticed a small platform in front of the chair, serving as a table with various items placed on it. When he brought the crystal closer to the chair, he was nearly startled.

Sitting on the chair was a skeleton—though “skeleton” wasn’t entirely accurate, as it was covered with a translucent brown substance that seemed to be remnants of flesh.

Lin Wei, wary of potential danger, didn’t touch it directly. He lit another crystal lamp to examine it more carefully. “…Desiccated?”

In some remote regions of the Empire, there was a custom of desiccating corpses, which would result in a similar appearance to the skeleton before them.

“Or burned,” Duan Yu suggested. The two stood close together, examining the corpse that had been there for who knew how long.

“Burned…” Lin Wei’s pupils contracted as he recalled a scene from his past life.

In his previous life, the Empire had used the Forbidden Scroll “Sunfall” to bring down the Floating Sky Capital, sacrificing the life of a high mage of common birth.

“Your Grace,” the mage, with his clear black-and-white eyes, performed the highest salute reserved for a commander. “My family—”

“They will be taken care of with the utmost diligence and provided with wealth that will last them a lifetime,” the Duke, cloaked in black, nodded slightly, his eyes unreadable. “The Empire will remember your name.”

“Thank you,” the high mage took a deep breath, turned around, and his final expression was a sorrowful yet resigned smile. “Its power is immense. In a moment… please remember to step back.”

The scroll unfurled before the mage, glowing with the beautiful hues of a sunset. Under his control, it slowly rose, its light growing brighter. Everyone present instinctively looked up, watching as the scroll ascended higher and higher, disappearing into the sea of clouds.

The elements around the mage began to violently fluctuate. His body trembled and rapidly withered. As a tremendous explosion and light burst forth in the distant sky, his body collapsed to the ground—now nothing more than a skeleton covered in a thin, desiccated layer of skin.

The energy required to activate a Forbidden Scroll was immense, consuming the mage’s entire life.

The Forbidden Spell quickly spread, and the dragons let out rhythmic roars as a five-colored barrier enveloped and protected those present.

The Duke did not step back. Instead, he slowly walked forward, removed his black cloak, and draped it over the mage’s remains. Then, he turned to the members of the Imperial Mage Corps and the dozen or so high-ranking generals of the army.

“The Magic World calls this process ‘burning,'” the young Duke’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a calm strength, each word striking the hearts of the listeners, stirring both unease and fervor. “After the destruction of Kalaway City, their counterattack will begin immediately.”

He paused, scanning the faces before him, then continued, “Sacrifice and glory await us ahead. With my blood, I will nourish the ever-blooming Flaming Rose.”

“Sacrifice and glory await us ahead. With my blood, I will nourish the ever-blooming Flaming Rose.”

“I will burn everything for the Empire, until my last breath.”

The pre-battle oath was spoken in unison, the atmosphere solemn.

“What are you thinking about?” Duan Yu noticed Lin Wei’s brief distraction.

“Nothing,” Lin Wei smiled faintly and shook his head, continuing to examine the desiccated corpse on the chair.

Burning… it did seem similar.

He shone the light to the side. “There are more corpses.”

On either side of the chair stood two more corpses in the same condition, their tattered clothing hanging from their skeletons. They had been hidden in the shadow of the chair’s back.

The two exchanged a glance and simultaneously headed back toward the entrance.

Duan Yu was about the same height as the “statues.” The helmets and armor seemed almost fused together, and when the helmet was removed, it made an unpleasant scraping sound. Lin Wei held up the crystal lamp, revealing a skull with translucent brown flesh beneath the helmet.

The hall’s atmosphere grew even more chilling, but fortunately, the two had enough courage—they returned to the chair, this time focusing on the items on the table. Strangely, there was no dust on the table, which held various mage’s belongings: a crystal ball, blank parchment, and most notably, a slender crystal sword in the center, with a thin black booklet beneath it.

Lin Wei picked up the crystal sword, which shimmered beautifully under the light of the crystal. “Is it useful?”

“You can keep it,” Duan Yu took it from him, examined it briefly, and handed it back. “Its storage capacity is much higher than a crystal ball. After I infuse it with magic, you can activate it with your spiritual power.”

“Good stuff,” Lin Wei smiled and pocketed it, then carefully picked up the black booklet. “There might be something written inside.”

The booklet was well-preserved, looking almost new. Lin Wei opened it to the first page, which was blank. The second page, however, had writing—though not the lengthy explanation they had hoped for, but rather… names.

The characters were written in various forms, but they recognized some of them in the Common Language of the Continent, which Lin Wei knew well!

“Nylan Zek Yucarius,” Lin Wei stared at the line in disbelief. “Donas Tidis!”

“Your family name?” Duan Yu asked.

“Right, but that’s not the most shocking part…” Lin Wei shook his head, pointing to the previous name. “This is the Founding Emperor of the Empire, and then there’s my ancestor—back then, our family wasn’t prominent. He was the leader of the Royal Knight Order.”

Duan Yu read out another name. “Kui Ling and Philsis… the creators of the Magic Academy and the first leader of the Magic Association.”

The other names were written in different scripts, and the most intricate and flowing one Lin Wei had seen in the dream of the Goddess Katanaphia. “This is the elven script.”

“Then the others,” Duan Yu’s finger traced the various scripts, “are the languages of other races… are these records or signatures?”

“Likely signatures,” Lin Wei rubbed his chin anxiously. “I recognize the handwriting of those two—the Empire has preserved their manuscripts.”

Based on the known identities of the four, the other names—were they the leaders of various races?

It seemed they had stumbled upon something monumental.

“But why are these signatures here? There’s no agreement or contract before them…” he wondered.

Flipping to the next page, it was blank. The only thing in the booklet was these signatures, likely penned by the great figures of the Dark Age a thousand years ago.

If these signatures were genuine, it meant that these individuals had reached some secret agreement or consensus. And if these corpses had indeed died from “burning,” then something dozens of times more powerful than a Forbidden Scroll had been activated.

The two examined each item on the table but found no further information. They walked around the hall, discovering a few more corpses but nothing else.

“Could the people who signed these names be these corpses?” Duan Yu looked at Lin Wei. “Did your Founding Emperor…”

Lin Wei understood what he meant and shook his head. “I can’t be sure. The Empire didn’t preserve the remains of Emperor Yucarius I. He abdicated early, and after the Empire was firmly established, it’s said he left the Imperial Capital to ‘travel the world.'”

“The numbers don’t match,” Duan Yu looked at the floor. “And the source of the metal element isn’t here either.”

“But we haven’t seen any passage,” Lin Wei followed Duan Yu’s gaze. “—Is it below?”

The mage nodded.

They walked around the hall once more, confirming there was no way down, and quickly reached a consensus.

Outside, the mermaids watched the silent ship nervously. Suddenly, the ship trembled, and a muffled sound echoed through the water, startling the mermaids. They exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes filled with fear.

Inside the hall, the floor had been cracked into a spiderweb-like pattern by powerful magic, and the cracks continued to spread. During the intervals of the spells, Lin Wei would toss a scroll. One peculiar thing was that Duan Yu’s magic still worked normally, but the Gungnir Spear refused to attack.

After some time, the floor finally gave way, revealing a hollow space below, where golden light flickered. The concentration of the metal element spiked once more. Duan Yu reinforced the magic barrier around Lin Wei and leaped down with him through the hole.

Lin Wei stared in mild shock at the scene before him, then turned to the motionless Gungnir. “Now I know why it wouldn’t attack…”

—It was probably feeling inadequate.

Before them, on a high platform, was a large rectangular crystal case—or more accurately, a crystal coffin, large enough to hold one or two people. But instead of a body, it contained a spear, broken into three pieces—a golden spear.

Even in its shattered state, it radiated a cold, sacred brilliance.

“I feel so small,” Lin Wei murmured, gazing at it. “What about you?”

The two climbed the stone steps to the platform. Duan Yu placed his hand on the crystal and frowned slightly. “It feels familiar.”

“Shall we open it?”

Duan Yu nodded and said to Lin Wei, “The elemental concentration will increase even more. Stay back.”

Lin Wei retreated a good distance and watched as Duan Yu worked.

The crystal coffin wasn’t completely sealed; the lid slid open with a bit of force.

The moment it opened, the ship shook more violently than before. More rubble fell from the hole they had created, and the entire space seemed on the verge of collapse.