Chapter 1347 — Captured

Before the endless radiance of starlight and color, Bertlem felt his consciousness slowly disintegrating, while something that did not belong to him surged swiftly into his soul, corroding and replacing it at a furious pace—for one instant he still remembered his own name, but the next his every conception of himself was drowned deep within a deluge of information, and one instant after that he realized that this body he had occupied for so short a time was already slipping beyond his control.

New organs sprouted from him; flesh and blood reappeared on a surface that had lignified years ago; he opened eyes, one pair after another, and behind each pair seemed to dwell an independent consciousness—countless voices clamored in his mind, finally merging into a vast, chaotic howl, and through that howl he saw a figure vast as a lighthouse descend.

The figure stood before the hill and bent toward this place; she reached out for the earth as a giant might pick up pebbles from a roadside, and Bertlem's last thought was to flee, but his body flung itself willingly into that palm wreathed in violet mist—and then he could no longer hold his spirit together, and lost consciousness like one embracing a gift.

Milmina reached out and scooped up the creature that was part treant, part human, tilting her head to study its body with some curiosity. Its bizarre form fascinated her, but she knew she could not keep this creature in her laboratory—according to the information relayed through the neural network, this was surely the dark priest who had escaped Beyila's "devouring"—and as a source of vital intelligence, it was the Empire's property.

So the Mistress of All Magic could only sigh with regret. Her tower-high body stood tall amid swirling cloud and mist, and now it began to shrink and recede with great speed, before a vast array of runes unfolded at her back; through a complex series of transformations the runes reconnected into chains and rings, suppressing and sealing away once more those powers that would drive mortals mad. Barely a dozen seconds later, the giant form standing within the vortex of mist vanished, leaving only Milmina—a mere two meters and change tall—standing at the gate of the manor, with the unrecognizable Bertlem at her feet.

The former Elder of the Mystic Shade Cult was now a cylindrical mass of vines, chunks of wood, and soft, rotting flesh, with a hideous face embedded at its top and, midway down its length, his second face—along with a third and a fourth.

"...Just one look, and this is what happens..." Milmina muttered resentfully, then casually traced a few runes in the air and connected to the magic-net terminal installed in the manor. "Hello? Hello... yes, this is Mina, front-line researcher. I've just captured that runaway dark priest here... yes, yes, the one who got away from Beyila—tell her she can stop chasing. Hm? The anti-divinity barrier fluctuation here just now? That was during the capture... yes, the surroundings were confirmed in advance, nothing leaked. I know, I know, I'll write the report later, we settled on that procedure before, I understand..."

...

Waves of heat rolled through the forest. The "path of purification" carved by magic cannons and heavy incinerators stretched from Fort Farm all the way to the northern end of the forest barrier, and to the creak and groan of massive wooden limbs in motion, "New Edge Treant Guards" in heavy armor and bearing heavy-fire weapons strode out from the forest, steadily pushing the battle line forward as they continued to pour terrible fire down upon the aberrants and bio-monstrosities scurrying across the scorched earth.

"BOOM!!"

A brilliant orb of light streaked across the sky, and an explosion especially deafening came from the distance: the "Arcane Star" summoned by the Elf Empress Belantia herself crashed down on the horizon at the forest's edge, destroying the last aberrant artillery position still firing energy bolts. With the enemy's heavy long-range fire silenced for good, the armored treant guardians planted their feet firmly at the front of the line.

They spread the branches about their crowns, lowering the alloy plating that resembled flower buds, and vines cascaded down from the canopy; a great host of ranger warriors, armored and armed, descended along these ropes from above and began to reap the enemies remaining on the scorched earth, while covering the engineering corps behind them as it rushed to throw up fortifications and build camps.

A treant guardian of exceptional height and especially thick armor, laden with all manner of auxiliary combat gear, strode to the middle of the position. This awe-inspiring guardian spread the alloy plates about its crown, and a slight, delicate figure poked her head out—long golden hair, skin so pale it was almost translucent, arcane runes flickering across her body, the glow of magic coursing over her skin. She looked down at the ground and saw Belantia standing among several adamantite golems, and a radiant smile broke across her face: "Your Majesty! How are we doing?"

"An extraordinary firepower advance—this forest is ours again," Belantia said, sparing no praise. She looked at the "Commander of the Solin Expeditionary Force" perched atop the treant guardian—this being Berna's public identity in the southern coalition—"Do you need to rest? You've been commanding this enormous army all by yourself..."

"No need—I'm absolutely brimming with energy," Berna said with a brilliant smile, even giving her slender-looking fist a little shake. "This body of mine was specially 'manufactured.' Apart from the necessary 'recuperation,' I hardly need to rest at all."

"Good, then," Belantia said with a nod, and then her gaze was drawn, against her will, past the treant guardian's bulk to the towering shadow lying quietly between the mountains and the plains not far off. "At last... we've come back here..."

"Here..." Berna turned as well, following the direction of the Elf Empress's gaze. She too saw that towering shadow, saw the shattered, collapsed "mountain mass," the ruined palaces and towers tumbled into the valley, the fortress keel jutting skyward like the mangled bones of some colossal beast. The wreckage of the Sunlit Vault was mirrored in the little elf's eyes like a broken mountain range, and this girl so many years from home was suddenly lost in a daze. "The last time I saw it, it was still floating in the sky, so majestic..."

"History must always turn to its next page. All we can do is see to it that civilization is not disgraced, and our forebears not shamed," Belantia said, her tone calm and light as she heard the little elf's lament. "And though the Sunlit Vault has fallen, it still watches over our civilization—from here on, we will make the Vault's main wreckage our base and raise a new 'outpost fortress' on the edge of the wasteland.

"The sanctum's alloy walls and keel will shore up our ramparts and towers; usable structures in the collapse zone will be melted down and recast. Valendian has already set the realm's production facilities working overtime to manufacture components for purification devices. Once the coalition has a firm foothold in the Vault's wreckage, we begin construction of the first 'purification tower' of the barrier wall."

Berna listened quietly as the Silver Empress laid out the plan for the days to come, and already she seemed to see the coalition's warriors stepping once more into the wreck of the fallen sanctum, clearing the tumbled ruins, relighting the extinguished lamps, remodeling the collapsed and toppled corridors, raising new walls at the edge of the ruins—and a stirring she had almost forgotten began to revive deep in her heart. It took her a long while to recall what this feeling was: the excitement and anticipation of centuries ago, when she first crossed the Long Bridge of the Homecomers, first faced the unknown northern world, first set out on the road of adventure.