Chapter 662

Chapter 662: The Crimson Realm

On the Western Continent, lies the Crimson Empire.

Six years have passed since that cataclysmic event that changed the face of the world. After the civil unrest and power struggles within the Imperial Capital, the nation has finally stabilized.

Although the old High Nobility was not completely overthrown, their power and influence have significantly diminished. Under the new emperor’s patronage, many military nobles have risen to high-ranking positions. Most of them come from humble origins and have always been at odds with the High Nobility. In recent years, they have gradually eroded the powers and benefits previously held by the High Nobility.

In response to this situation, the High Nobility had planned to unite against the new regime. However, under the new emperor’s astute political maneuvering, some of the High Nobility were bought off and became representatives in the new noble council. Their power even exceeded what they had before. This led to internal rifts among the nobility, and rebellions that were brewing across various regions were betrayed by these insiders.

Upon receiving the news, the emperor dispatched his troops to suppress the rebellious nobles, reclaiming their lands, wealth, and power. Some of these gains were distributed as rewards to the pacifying forces, thereby securing the support of the military.

However, he did not completely lose his mind and eliminate all the High Nobility. After securing his position, he gradually adopted a conciliatory policy, winning over many of the High Nobility to balance the power at the top and prevent it from tilting too far in one direction.

Thus, after six years, this young emperor in his twenties had firmly grasped control of this vast empire, ensuring his will permeated throughout the land.

With the implementation of the new military merit system, more commoners and noble offspring entered the military, emulating the rise of the empire centuries ago.

This year, another wave of imperial宣讲队伍 (propaganda teams) set out from the Imperial Capital to the provinces. They wore deep red robes, carried legal codes and scepters, and proclaimed the emperor’s will.

Since the ascension of the new emperor, the country’s landscape has undergone significant changes. The oppression and injustices that existed before have been greatly alleviated through the enforcement and trials conducted by the army. Many of the old elite have been brought down, and the nation has begun to flourish anew. Those who had fallen into poverty due to famine and destitution were also enlisted in the military, leading to improved public security.

In the southern metropolis of Seratis,

Eight chestnut horses pulled the carriage forward slowly. The rear of the carriage resembled a stepped structure. Standing atop it was a grand ceremonial official in a luxurious red robe, adorned with a golden crown, shouting loudly.

Around the carriage, soldiers clad in steel armor stood guard. They wore dark red cloaks and held halberds and flags in their hands. The crimson rose pattern fluttered fiercely in the wind.

This ceremonial official from the capital conveyed the emperor’s words and will. His voice, enhanced by extraordinary power, echoed far and wide, drawing residents from all corners of the city.

“To end the millennium of chaos, to expand our territories, to ensure the prosperity of our subjects.”

“We, the subjects of the Crimson Empire, shall wield our swords to cultivate the land and everything else the empire needs!” The official loudly read out the emperor’s words as the carriage moved forward, scattering crimson petals into the air.

The streets of the city were packed with people, adults and children, men and women, merchants, and commoners alike. They watched the orderly and imposing marching formation with admiration and fervor. Some cheered, others conversed, creating a lively and bustling scene. In their eyes, there was reverence and zeal.

Since the new emperor ascended the throne, this religious-like adoration has grown increasingly prevalent. Some of the High Nobility even suspected that this was secretly promoted by the new emperor to consolidate his power.

But it must be said that the timing of the coup was remarkably opportune, and the critical moment of the conjunction of the sun and moon tipped the scales in favor of the Edmond brothers, allowing them to sweep away obstacles and seize the throne with overwhelming force.

This made them seem to possess a divine mandate, which further fueled the spread of public adoration.

On the towering carriage, the splendid ceremonial official continued to shout loudly, his voice like thunder, echoing in all directions.

“So, for the supreme glory of the empire, and for yourselves,”

“Are you willing to launch a total war?”

“Yes!”

The fervent and unified voices overwhelmed everything, and this vast and powerful empire finally ignited like a flame.

—

In the former Ruerna, now the Clancia Province of Lucerne, White Rock County,

Prisoners clad in coarse gray linen clothing worked tirelessly at the mining site, each holding a pickaxe, carefully and laboriously excavating the mountain wall.

The mine produced a brittle wind bell zircon, a transcendent material needed for certain alchemical creations. However, due to its fragile nature, it couldn’t be extracted by force, so miners had to collect it manually.

Under the scorching sun, many mining pits were directly exposed to sunlight, making the working environment quite harsh.

A man in his forties was still bent over, carefully digging out a small piece of wind bell zircon he had found, which was hidden and embedded in the soil and rocks.

The light red soil and rubble gradually peeled away, revealing a stone about the size of a quail’s egg. The man carefully took it out and placed it into a small jar beside him, where it was cushioned with dusty cotton to prevent it from breaking.

“Huff, not easy,” he exhaled, using his dust-covered arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

The man slowly straightened his back, being careful not to strain it. Since the world changed, he had lost his transcendent powers and was now just a vulnerable middle-aged man.

After catching his breath, he picked up the small jar again and looked at the three shiny stones inside, a faint smile appearing on his dark face. It seemed he could afford more steamed buns today.

Looking around, he noticed a figure sitting in the shadow of the mountain wall, then limped over.

“Hey, old Lack, how was your harvest today?” he greeted, leaning against the mountain wall, not minding the pebbles and dust on the ground.

“Not bad, found one,” replied the man called Old Lack, who appeared to be in his fifties, with many wrinkles on his face and somewhat cloudy eyes. He squatted on the ground, half-closed his eyes, and looked at the area bathed in strong sunlight.

“What’s the end of this life?” Old Lack sighed softly.

“Don’t think too much about it, let’s just take it one day at a time,” the middle-aged man next to him advised, holding the jar as if it were a treasure, leaning against the rock wall to rest.

“You’re optimistic, but I can’t be. I’ve been having dreams lately,” Old Lack said wistfully.

“What did you dream about?”

“I dreamed about my youth, when I was about nineteen years old. I was pursuing a beautiful elf maiden at Emanas. She was so beautiful and agile, like the morning dew, making one want to approach and touch her.”

“What happened later? I remember your wife was from the Fenix family, right?”

“Yes, my pursuit failed. Later, I returned to Mozwa and followed my grandfather’s wishes, marrying a daughter of the Fenix family. And now, more than thirty years have passed.”

“But now, I’m alone again, with no wife or children.”

“Moreover, I’m now a prisoner, with all my past wealth and power gone. I can’t find anything worth holding onto that would make me want to continue living.” Old Lack’s voice grew somber.

“When I dreamt of my youth, I felt only deep despair, because I can never go back,” he said, his voice choking up, tears streaming down his face.

The man beside him patted his back gently and said soothingly, “I understand, live well, don’t think too much.”

“No, you don’t understand. At least the Sheria family still has someone left. But we, the Walther family, have no descendants left,” he buried his face in his hands, hot tears mixed with black dust dripping through his fingers.

Sighing, the other man shook his head slightly and remained silent.

They sat there for a while until a soldier carrying a spear walked over.

“Who among you is Witray Sheria?”

“I am,” the man in his forties stood up, supporting himself with the rock wall.

The soldier examined him from top to bottom, then said, “Come with me.”

Witray held the jar and followed the soldier in small steps. In the vast mine, many prisoners sitting in the shadows watched the two walking under the sunlight, their eyes showing a mix of numbness and envy.

They reached a small hut near the edge of the mine. Two heavily armored warriors inspected them before waving them in.

The soldier led Witray into the hut and said, “You have half an hour to talk.”

He placed an old brass clock on the table and stepped out.

Only then did Witray notice another woman in the room. She was in her twenties, wearing a simple white cotton dress, standing by the table.

“Are you… Letis?”

There was hesitation in Witray’s voice; after all, this girl differed quite a bit from his memories.

In his memory, Letis was proud and beautiful, but the girl before him had a weary look with traces of dust in her brows and eyes. She was dressed simply.

“Yes, Uncle Witray,” Letis said with a long-unseen smile on her tired face.

“It’s been a while,” she said softly, then gestured for Witray to sit down.

In the simple hut, rays of sunlight filtered through gaps in the roof, shining onto the table. Dust particles floated slowly in the light, while outside, a few tranquil cicadas chirped, heralding the heat of midsummer.

“How have you been, Letis? Have they treated you well?” Witray asked, looking at the girl before him with concern.

“I’m fine. When the war broke out, I was still at school, and the Clancian military spared me because of that. But the rest of my family…” As she spoke, Letis lowered her head, her voice gradually becoming softer.

“I understand. Some things, I’ve prepared myself for a long time.” Witray comforted the girl in front of him.

“Family wealth has probably vanished, and those friends are likely gone too. Seeing a living relative now is enough for me.” Witray leaned back in his chair and said slowly. This former Magic Sequence 8 master was now emaciated and his skin tanned, no longer showing its former whiteness.

“Are there any other survivors in your family besides you?” Witray asked with concern.

“No one else,” Letis said, lowering her head, tears falling onto her knees.

“Sigh, it’s like this.”

“Perhaps this is punishment.” He sighed.

“How have you been recently? Is life treating you well?” He reached out to comfort his only niece, but seeing the soot on his hand, he slowly pulled it back.

“Now I work in a textile factory in the Glass Province, and it’s not bad,” Letis wiped away her tears and slowly lifted her head.

“Oh, is anyone bullying you?” Witray asked slightly worriedly. After all, with Letis’s appearance, even with slight makeup, she would be a stunning young lady. If the security wasn’t good, that could be…

“It’s fine. No one is bullying me. The Glass Province governs strictly, so no one dares to cause trouble.”

Witray recalled the disciplined soldiers in the mining area, which had once amazed him. Now, he thought, other regions wouldn’t be much different.

“That’s good.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Witray wanted to say something but didn’t know what. He could only silently watch the girl before him, once the family’s treasure.

Recalling a few years ago, Letis was the envy of everyone in the upper echelons of Rourna, a beautiful young lady. Now, she had fallen to working in a textile factory, a stark contrast that he, as an uncle, couldn’t imagine. After all, she was only in her twenties, unlike himself, who had already experienced too much and become more open-minded.

“Can you still cultivate Alchemy and the Extraordinary Sequence?” Witray asked cautiously after a long silence.

“Maybe. Times have changed, and the new cultivation methods are very different. We, who have less-than-stellar reputations, are forbidden from entering the academy to learn, so we can only figure it out ourselves,” Letis said, looking at the patterns on the table. She was currently at Magic Sequence 2, a result of her own private exploration, and it was slow progress.

“It will get better. Take it one step at a time.”

“As long as it’s not officially banned, we’ll eventually figure it out. Then live well, and don’t forget your childhood dreams,” Witray said, his hands fidgeting uneasily, his rough palms rubbing against each other.

In this prisoner mine, all prisoners were forbidden from cultivating. Any gathering of extraordinary magic power would be punished, even if they were once esteemed magic masters, the upper echelons of Rourna.

As they conversed, the brass clock on the table chimed. The soldier standing outside also came in.

“It’s time to leave,” he said indifferently, as if accustomed to such sorrowful scenes that brought tears.

Witray supported himself to stand up, speaking intermittently.

“Live well, marry someone decent in the future. Even if it’s not the Shelia family, as long as you’re safe.”

“You live peacefully, and your uncle will be at ease,” Witray was led by the soldier out of the house.

Letis watched the thin, limping figure in the scorching sun, her eyes filling with liquid.

Not long ago, this uncle was also a prodigy in the family, handsome and suave, considered the future Sequence 9 of Rourna, the pillar of the Shelia family.

But now, everything had faded like a dream, turning into a harsh and painful reality.

(End of Chapter)