II

━━━━━━┓༻❁༺┏━━━━━━

Arc II Chapter 13

━━━━━━┛༻❁༺┗━━━━━━

The horses stopped and the cart halted. They arrived. Deeper and deeper, they ventured into the heart of the forest.

They abandoned the light of civilisation. Trails and trampled paths guided them. They led them into the wilderness, into the darkness.

Ancient trees watched them. The centuries made them grow tall.

Lost rays of light pierced the canopy and shadows flickered along their way. The darkness danced, amused by their presence.

Human souls that entered their kingdom, a land long since forgotten by the sands of time, a land cursed by history, a land stained with blood.

But even the darkest forest ended. The night ended, and the sun reclaimed her rightful place. The trees grew sparser and grass replaced them.

Wide open grassland welcomed Aurora and a gentle breeze caressed her cheeks. The wind blew, and a river travelled across the grassland. The stream brought cold water from the mountains and vitalised the land.

Aurora's gaze swept across the ruins, monuments of a glorious past, of a proud metropolis never destined to return.

Ruins covered the plane, desolation, rubble, a desert of crumbling stone and decay, but peace deceived.

Silence and death ruled the city, a city void of life and joy. An ominous aura haunted the ruins. Fear, terror, pain, misery, death maintained an iron grip. The taint of corruption never left. The darkness survived the centuries and even thrived in the shadows.

The chaotic aether irritated her. The elemental imbalance didn't escape her. The dark elements were strong.

This was truly a cursed place, forsaken by the living. This was not a city. This was a tomb, and the rest of the party shared her sentiment.

The ruins unsettled them. Lambert, Iris, Rudolf, Michael, their discomfort was palpable. Even their elven companions declined to comment.

Aurora tugged on Iris's sleeves. “Sister Iris, what is this place?“

Arwing grabbed the word. “This is the ancient city of Valentia. The reason for our expedition.“

━━━━━━┛༻❁༺┗━━━━━━

Lambert hated this place. Everyone hated this place.

The nobles hated this place. The church hated this place. The scholars hated this place. The mages hated this place. The knights hated this place. The soldiers hated this place. The adventurers hated this place. The guild hated this place. The common peasantry hated this place.

Even the spirits hated this place. The distaste was universal. Nobody liked the ruins. They feared the long shadow of Valentia, the darkness that hid beneath the surface.

Valentia was a blight upon the land, a curse born from the sins of their ancestors. The malicious ruins corrupted the aether.

The party advanced through the ruins. They made progress as they encountered little opposition.

The streets were empty, but Lambert distrusted the peace. His glove gripped the hilt of his sword. He maintained his guard and sharpened his senses.

The beasts hid, beast of the more unpleasant kind. They avoided contact during broad daylight. They lurked among the shadows, waiting for the night to emerge.

The nobility and the guild regularly purged the area. Schwarzean knights even slew the infamous dread wyvern and her brood.

The draconian serpent terrorised the land and choose Valentia as her nest. The withered ruins provided an ideal home.

Humans efforts didn't amount to much and failed to reclaim the territory.

The beast population didn't dwindle. Their numbers seemed endless. Their supply infinite.

The threat never ceased, but their stable population made Valentia an excellent hunting ground. The city provided a constant supply of rare ingredients and materials. Leather, fur, sinews, talons, horns, fangs, blood, concentrated mana cores, Valentia had it.

The goods were in high demand and merchants paid well. Alchemists and artisans alike craved for them. Their hunger for resources was never satisfied, and adventurers were happy to oblige.

The brave and greedy scavenged the ruins in search for valuables. Valentia still harboured ancient treasures. The looters tried their best, but even they couldn't take everything.

Expeditions still uncovered relics from the distant past. The knowledge and techniques to produce them were lost to time, but not their reputation. The durability and ductility of Valentian steel was legendary, such was its reputation. The ruins were one of the few remaining sources of true Adamanthril.

Lambert peeked around the corner.

No enemy in sight. No human soul. Only more glorious rubble. The area was clear and their destination close.

The citadel loomed at the horizon, the vestiges of the royal palace. The palace resided above the city, dug into the hill. A fortress of stone and granite. The arsenal beneath descended into the earth, with the deepest levels still unexplored.

Lambert turned. “Lady Arwing, the citadel is in sight.“

“How shall we proceed, Lambert?“

Arwing studied the experienced adventurer. “We trust your judgment.“

Lambert scrutinised his party. He had Rudolf. He had Michael. He had Iris.

He had a defenceless amnesic girl. He had two elven scholars with dubious combat capabilities. His options were limited.

Lambert made his decision. “Michael, you come with me.“

“We will scout the palace. The reports state the area is safe, but we better verify them. Better safe than sorry.“

“I don't want any nasty surprises when we go underground.“ Michael nodded and obeyed.

“Rudolf, Iris, you stay here with the girl and hold the position. Prepare the camp.“ Lambert gazed at the abandoned citadel. The sheer might of the palace impressed even after centuries of neglect.

“I doubt we will clear the arsenal today.“

━━━━━━┛༻❁༺┗━━━━━━