Chapter 1320 — Urgency

"Tell the leader of the Wardens that their thousand-year covenant with the world of the living is about to end—begun in fire, ended in fire," Camilla said slowly, reaching up to pull a beast-fang pendant from around her neck. "Take this. It is the last debt owed by the Wardens to the world of the living. This defense line on the ridge certainly cannot hold, but we must delay as long as possible. Then, once those monsters break into the Sea of Red Jade, take this 'debt' and find the ghost who commands the Wardens... and have him set the whole forest ablaze.

"When the great fire burns, all contracts are settled at once."

Morak took the pendant Camilla held out with hesitation. He recalled the ancient legend—recalled the bloody war between the orc ancestors and another ruling race of this land, and the origin of the Warden troops in the Sea of Red Jade. It was said that in ages past this land had been ruled not by orcs but by another, mightier people; that this mighty people had at last declined and been overthrown and supplanted by their former slaves; that the last remnants of them had been driven into the forest and, to survive, had willingly signed a thousand-year covenant with the world of the living, becoming a force sworn to guard the deep woods forever, unable to leave even a single step...

Outsiders ignorant of the truth, and shallow-minded mountain folk, could not tell legend from true history—they might even invert certain details in the tales. But Mountain Braves and Champion Warriors, while preserving their personal valor, were required to know history. Morak knew that behind those ancient legends there was always a traceable basis, and that the "spirits" guarding the Sea of Red Jade truly existed.

Those spirits had longed for freedom for a full thousand years... but was it truly right to release them now? And at the cost of the entire Sea of Red Jade, no less...

Noticing the old orc's hesitation, Camilla showed little surprise. She merely shook her head slightly and raised a hand toward the direction of the Gondo Wasteland: "Do you know what that place is?"

Morak was somewhat at a loss: "Of course I know. That is the Gondo Wasteland."

"No—that will be our future, if we keep hesitating like this," Camilla said coldly. "Lose the Warden troops, and we can build a new order. Lose the Sea of Red Jade, and we can plant a new forest. Even if we lose Red Jade City, we still have a chance to rise again. But if we only keep retreating like this, meeting a legion sworn to destroy us with irresolution, then all that will be left on this land is a wasteland corroded by chaotic mana. Morak, burn the Sea of Red Jade and burn the main force of those aberrations with it. Even if only for a time, we will have postponed the corruption of this land a little—and so long as we buy that little more time..."

She paused for a few seconds here, but soon went on: "We do not fight alone, Morak. Our allies may truly need only a day or two of delay from us."

At last the hesitation in Morak's eyes gradually faded. Meeting Camilla's gaze, the war-marks around his face and neck seemed to take on a faint blood-red glimmer in the darkness: "I understand. All shall be as you wish."

Camilla gave a slight nod. It was as if a weight had suddenly lifted from her heart, and she could not help letting out a long breath. Then she looked toward the north within the dark defense line: "I wonder how things stand at Mosswood... whether they know of our situation here..."

"The Cecil people prepared for this war more thoroughly than we did. So long as their defense line stands, those monsters cannot break into Mosswood," Morak said. "But our communications with the northern regions are cut now, and the several waves of messengers we sent out are all unaccounted for. Even contact with Helmkeep is severed. It will indeed be hard to get word through... I can only hope Chief Wenna can make accurate and timely judgments."

"Wenna is a perceptive woman. She will know what to do at a time like this," Camilla said. "What we must do now is hold out as long as we can."

Morak nodded in the darkness and gave a slight sniff—riding the cold mountain wind of the winter night, that foul stench had grown thick once more.

...

South of Mosswood, on the small triangular plain that led to the central Augurey region, the banner of the Cecil Empire fluttered above a temporary camp. The well-equipped warriors of the expeditionary army were readying vehicles and supplies, preparing to enter that stretch of trackless mountains to the south where all communications had been cut.

But before the ground forces could set out, the most basic reconnaissance had to be completed first.

With a low droning hum, two dragoon aircraft rose from behind the camp, shattering the stillness of the sky in the ambiguous, uncertain night. Like two swift phantoms they crossed the mountain pass and flew toward the distant forests and mountains.

And in the command post on the ground, Bertram Franklin—Grand Duke of the Western Marches and one of the Empire's three Consuls—stood by the tactical table with a face like still water, listening to the crackling interference noise coming from the communications equipment. On the arcane-net terminal beside him, the projection overhead was so severely distorted that it could not be made out at all.

"We still cannot reach the two hub stations at Mingcen Peak and Helmhold—those are already the highest-capacity transmitting and receiving stations within the Ogurei borders," the technical sergeant in charge of the communications equipment shook his head and said to the Grand Consul, who had come to the front lines in person, his face full of worry. "Moreover, the several secondary relay stations nearest to us have sent back no response signal at all. Could they already have..."

"Don't frighten yourself," Baiyu shook his head with a grim expression. "Even if those monsters marched straight in unopposed, they would still have to spend considerable effort climbing over the border mountains of eastern Ogurei, let alone break into Helmhold now—it is only interference. Keep calling; once the interference weakens, perhaps we will receive a signal."

"Yes, sir."

Baiyu Franklin nodded, and immediately afterward a report came from the sentry at the door of the barracks: "Lady Wenna, chieftain of the grey elves, has arrived."

Baiyu was briefly taken aback, then at once nodded. "Show her in."

The door of the barracks opened, and a lady as petite as a child stepped into the room. Catching sight of the Grand Consul standing before the tactical table, a look of astonishment crossed her face.

"Grand Duke Baiyu... I never expected that you would come in person."

"The situation is pressing, and His Majesty ordered me to come to your aid myself. I have brought the mobile corps of Cecil's western military district," Baiyu said with a nod. "There is also another relief force—they will arrive very soon."

(End of this chapter)